Chapter 9

Luna

No matter what had happened with Bash at le Désir Mystique earlier, I simply could not let myself believe that his prediction of Joshua was correct. I kept trying to convince myself that what he had done with the lights and the fireplace had all been some kind of elaborate illusion. That there was some natural explanation for it. But a small voice inside said that he had shown me genuine power. And the sleeping potion had actually worked. Perhaps there truly were things I couldn’t rationalize or explain away.

If I was being truly honest with myself, there was something unsettling about Bash that I just couldn’t put my finger on. Something about him made me shiver with fear, and yet I found myself drawn to him in a way I didn’t understand. It was like… like I was becoming addicted to being close to him. Even though it might be bad for me, I kept going back, time and time again.

I reminded myself that he had helped me with my intruder issue and with my insomnia. He was becoming a genuine friend; a friend I desperately needed, since Kayla had been so busy with her new work project. It was unlike her. She’d never been pulled away to work for so long. But I supposed I should be happy to see that she was getting serious about her career.

But Bash…

There was a memory, just flickering on the edge of my consciousness. Something about the dreams I had been having, the dark and devious things that had flooded my nightmares that made me think of him. The dreams were as disturbing as they were erotic. My core clenched at the mere memory.

Blades running over my skin, pricking my flesh until my blood ran in crimson rivulets. The feel of a tongue lapping up the droplets before making their way to my aching clit. Ropes and chains and twisted toys, giving me pleasure and pain in equal measure. I truly couldn’t tell if it was revulsion or arousal that made me shiver at the memory.

And all through it, a voice guided me.

Ma chère. He calls me that. It’s his voice.

I knew I was reading too much into it. It was simply the fact that he used that particular pet name whenever we spoke. That’s all it was.

Right?

Shaking my head, I paid no more heed to the swirling dark fantasies that had plagued me these past two weeks. I needed to focus on something more positive, more productive. Like my surprise for Joshua tonight. My heart skipped a beat as I thought about my plans and preparation. I wanted so badly for this to work, for him to prove once and for all that all my fears were wrong. I just needed him to show me he was still in love with me. That he still wanted me. That I was enough.

It had been nearly two weeks since I had seen him, only having exchanged a few text messages and phone calls here and there because of his hectic work schedule. That would all change tonight. I had decided to take a leap of faith and called his office. They assured me he was not scheduled to work this evening and had no meetings on his schedule. It was the perfect opportunity to surprise him with dinner.

I spent over an hour preparing his favorite meal. After applying the finishing touches to my hair and makeup, and a short car ride later, I stood in front of his house, my heart in my throat. Dressed to the nines — or my version of it — in a flowing dress that made my tits look amazing, and a pair of fuck-me-pumps, with ruby red lips to match, I was ready to remind Joshua of the good thing he had. Even the fact that it had begun to rain could not ruin my good mood.

I pulled the spare key from my purse. I never used it, but this was the perfect opportunity to do so. I slid the key into the lock and opened the door, excitement fluttering in my belly like butterflies.

I stepped inside the foyer, my lips parting to call out to the man I had loved for years…

Just in time to see Joshua pushing a woman up against the wall, thrusting and grunting his way to orgasm, buried to the hilt inside none other than… Kayla.

Words failed.

Butterflies turned to daggers.

Pain shot through my body, from the lurching of my stomach to the stabbing pain in my heart.

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t even breathe.

Tears clouded my vision just as rage began to boil within me, turning my stomach sour.

The casserole dish fell from my hands, shattering on the floor in an explosion of cheese, sauce, and lasagna noodles.

“Oh, fuck!” Joshua swore.

“Luna!” Kayla called out — but it was too late.

It was all too late.

My hands slipped against the steering wheel, made slick by the blood that poured from the cuts on my hands from shards of broken crockery. What kind of idiot walks in on her boyfriend and best friend fucking up against a wall, drops a casserole dish and then fucking tries to clean up the mess?!? ?

There had to be something wrong with me. How could he do this to me? What had I done to deserve this???

My sobs echoed in the small cabin of my car as I drove through the pouring rain. I could barely see, even with the wipers on full blast, though my tears and the smearing mascara in my eyes had more to do with that than anything else.

Swiping at my cheeks, the metallic scent of my blood filled my nostrils. Anything was better than the scent of that perfume. It seemed to chase me somehow, like an unrelenting specter, mocking the memory of my love for Joshua.

How damn stupid was I to not recognize it!? Fucking gardenias. Of course.

That’s why I couldn’t get the scent out of my nostrils. Because it was fucking Kayla’s perfume. I was smelling her , not the perfume from Joshua’s shirts. The two were one and the same. Through my pain and heartbreak, that tiny kernel of rage began to take deeper root. My fucking best friend since seventh grade, who could have models on her arm at the drop of a hat, and she had to steal MY fucking boyfriend!? How stupid was I, to let that happen?

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I cried, banging my bleeding hand on the steering wheel, letting the pain fuel my anger. Anything to hold the heartbreak at bay. I could feel it waiting like a monster in the shadows, waiting to pounce. I knew that if it did, it would break me for good.

I turned down this road and that, making my way to the street down on the lower end of the French Quarter. I knew the destination by heart now.

It was the only place I could go. The only place I had left. The only place I could feel safe.

Who else did I have??

And who else could I trust?

Only Bash. He’d proven his friendship time and time again, even in the brief span I’d known him. He was my only true friend now. My only anchor in the storm of emotion that threatened to capsize me.

I pulled in front of the store, barely missing the car in front of me, and definitely hitting the curb as I threw it into park. Stumbling out of the driver’s seat, the heel of my shoe snapped as it stuck into the grate in the pavement below. I fell to the ground, the cars still driving past me like I was beneath their notice. Then again, wasn’t that the truth??

Poor Luna Landry. Idiot extraordinaire. Pay no attention while she cries into the pavement on her hands and knees.

My hands stung as pieces of dirt and debris embedded themselves into the cuts in my palm. Even the stinging pain could not faze me. Nothing hurt worse than the betrayal of the two people I had loved most. Nothing compared to that. I clung to my hatred and rage like a lifeline, using it to keep me sane. I was lost, otherwise.

I stumbled, crawling my way to the sidewalk, and carefully pulled myself to my feet. My eyes stung as the mascara smeared into them.

I couldn’t even manage a word as I unsteadily entered le Désir Mystique.

“Welcome to le Désir Mystique. How may I — Luna ?” Bash’s voice called. As soon as the sound of his voice reached my ears, I crumbled. Hearing the concern, the genuine caring in his voice stripped away the protective anger I clung to, leaving only the pain. Covering my face with my hands, my body shook with sobs.

I could feel his presence in front of me, yet he did not touch me.

“Who did this to you? Tell me who, and I swear I will make them suffer.” His voice was unlike I’d ever heard from him, hard as iron and dark as midnight, revealing the sinister nature that had seemed to lurk just beneath the surface of his entire being from the day I had first met him. I knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he would make good on that promise.

“He… he cheated,” I sobbed, looking up at him through blurry, tear soaked eyes.

“He did.” His tone was simple agreement, as if he were relieved I had finally discovered something he had already known. And I supposed he had known, since the very first day I walked into his shop.

He took my hands in his, turning them palm up as he inspected the wounds that were left there. His thumbs rubbed the blood away, and then, without warning, he pressed his nails into the cuts, pressing until more blood pooled into the palms of my hands.

“Bash — ahh!” I half-screamed, the shock of pain jolting me. I tried to pull my hands away, but he held firm, his eyes like shadowed pits as he stared down at me.

“Take the pain, ma chère . Take it and let it replace the pain in your heart.”?

“Ow! You’re hurting me, Bash. Stop it!” Still, his hands held mine in an iron grip, refusing to let go.

“I said, take the pain. Accept it. Let it burn away everything else. The weak feel heartbreak. The pitiful feel betrayal and rejection. But the strong embrace pain, and become stronger still. The powerful find vengeance for the wrongs done to them.” His voice was as iron-hard as his hands, still digging into my palms, setting my cuts ablaze with pain. Somehow, it seemed to clear my head slightly; to give me something to focus on.

“I don’t… I don’t want to be weak, Bash. I don’t want to be pitiful. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want to feel at all. How do I do it? How do I become strong when I feel so broken? I need… I need…”

“Tell me.” His sinister voice called to something deep inside of me, urging me to meet his gaze. “Tell me now. Tell me all.”?

“Help me be strong. Help me be powerful. Make me not hurt anymore. I’ll do anything, Bash. Anything,” I pled with him. And I meant every word. Bash was the only one I could trust. The only one who hadn’t lied to me. Not once.

“Do you truly mean it? Do you mean it with every fiber of your being?” His green eyes bore into mine, holding me captive. And that captivity felt like home.

I nodded.

“Say the words, ma chère ,” he whispered darkly.

“I mean it. I mean it. Take it all away. My pain, my heartbreak, my weakness. I don’t want them any more. I don’t want to think. Please, Bash. Please!” Tears ran down my face as I begged him to believe me.

With a dark smile, he finally answered.

“Come with me.”?

He led me to the back of his shop. I barely noticed the flick of his wrist or the click of the door locking without being touched. Not that it mattered now. I believed in his magic. And all I wanted was for him to take it away.