Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) (11 page)

“We’ve got to get him out of there,” Jason pleaded.

“All right, all right, I’m going in.”

Jason walked her to the entrance of the bar, a set of double doors painted a shiny black.  As soon as she stepped inside she heard a voice call out, “We’re closed!”

She didn’t respond, however.  She was speechless. 

Brick arches framed a cherry wood bar polished to a high shine and with matching stools that gleamed.  Rows of liquor were neatly mounted on shelves in front of a mirror that could barely be seen.  A small stage with instruments was opposite the bar, and instead of small, round tables interspersed in the sitting area, long rectangular tables lined the room.  The arches, the rich color of the tables and the soft buttery light of the fixtures created an ambience that was anything but representative of a dive bar.  To the contrary, it was meticulous, architecturally interesting and inviting.  And perhaps the most important credit she could add to its lengthy list was that it didn’t reek of grease, beer and vomit.  It smelled of pine and leather. 

Her eyes scanned the inviting space, searching for both Dane and the owner. 

“Please, buddy, just let me go,” she heard a voice say.  But she didn’t see anyone right away.  It wasn’t until she circled around the front of the bar that she realized there was another section on the opposite side.  There, she saw a plump man in his late forties pinned to the wall of liquor and Dane perched on a stool facing him on the other side of the gleaming cherry wood bar, an almost empty bottle with a small amount of brown liquid left inside it clutched in one hand.

“Dane,” she said his name.  His head tu
rned toward her, a look of shock playing across his features before a goofy grin spread his lips.

“Oh hey Arianna, I’m so glad you could make it,” he said, his voice thickened and slurred by alcohol. 

“Dane, what’re you doing?” she said and approached him slowly, as if he were a feral animal.  She lowered her voice.  “Why are you using your powers like this, letting people see?” she asked through her teeth and volleyed a glance toward the owner. 

“I won’t say anything, Miss, please, just take him and go,” the man begged.

Annoyed with Dane, her power came to her quickly.  She raised her hand and felt a weak resistance pushing against her flow of energy, Dane’s will trying to wrestle hers. 

She bit the inside of her cheek and blasted back at him, toppling his force with ease.  Then, with a flick of her wrist, she released the man from Dane’s hold. 

“Ooh, you’re so tough,” Dane said to her and sounded like a thirteen year-old boy.  “Run along,
Collin,
” he taunted and addressed the bartender. 

“Could you please
give us a moment alone, Collin?” Arianna cleared her throat and asked after shooting Dane an irate look.

“Sure, sure,” the man agreed
.

Gripping his upper arm lightly
before he hurried out of sight, Arianna turned Collin so that he faced her.  “Please,” she begged.  “Don’t call the police.  I’ll have him out of here as soon as possible.”

“I-I won’t, I swear,” Collin replied, his eyes darting nervously. 

Despite the bartender’s jumpy behavior, she believed he would stay true to his word and not call the police, if for no reason other than pure fear. 

As soon as Collin was out of sight, she whirled and trained her gaze on Dane. 
“What is the matter with you?” she hissed.  “Have you lost your mind?”

Dane spun on his stool and tried to focus his bleary eyes on her.  “Where’s Desmond?  I don’t see him here.  You actually left without him?”
His hazel gaze was unfocused, his words snide.

“No, he’s not here, but you are, and using your powers on innocent people, no less.  Innocent people who will tell their friends and family about what you did,” she lectured.  

“Ah c’mon, if that guy tells anyone they’re gonna think he’s nuts.  You and I both know that,” he said, his words tripping over one another.  “I’m not concerned about them.”  He raised the bottle he held to his lips and swallowed the last dregs.  He slammed the magnum onto the bar and said, “Ah!” theatrically. 

“All right, you’re finished, I get it. Are you ready to leave now?” she addressed him as if she were speaking to willful child. 

“No, actually, I’m not,” Dane hiccupped and answered.  “We’re finally alone, and I am glad ‘cause we never get to just hang anymore, ya know?”

“
What do you mean? We
han
g all the time,” she imitated how he’d drawled the word “hang”.

“No, no we don’t,” he shook his head adamantly. 

“Yes we do,” she answered and felt like a sister engaging her petulant brother in an annoying war of yes-no. 

“No, no, no.  You are wrong, A-Bomb.  Wrongity
, wrong, wrong.” He pointed at her.  “You are never allowed to be alone.  ’Cuz
he
is always with you.”

“He is always with me,” she repeated.  “He
, as in . . . ,” she rolled her hand forward to jog Dane’s mind.  “Are you going to tell me or am I supposed to guess?”

“Oh c’m
on.  You know who!  The overgrown Ken doll, that’s who.  Mr. Golden Boy.  Mr. Probably-Makes-Farts-That-Sound-Like-Harps. 
Desmond
,” he spat the name, finally. 

Arianna bristled.  This was not how she envisioned the scenario playing out.  Des
mond was a subject that was off-limits.  Dane was a good guy, when he wasn’t stinking drunk and behaving belligerently.  She kept reminding herself of that as comments that included many four-letter words rattled around in her brain. 

She took a deep breath to calm herself then said, “Okay, yes, he’s with me a lot.  Can we go now?”

“A lot?  Try
all
the freaking time
.  It’s like he’s your keeper,” he goaded. 

Grinding her molars, she swallowed down her rising temper.  “You and I both know he’s not my keeper,” she said with calm she did not feel.  “Come on, it’s late and I want to get back
home.”

“Yup!  You
need to run home. 
Desmond
is probably pacing the floor worried sick about his little pet.”

Annoyance was growing increasingly difficult to rein in.  “Okay, Dane.  You made your point.  You think Desmond owns me.  Now, let’s go,” she said sternly and leveled a steely gaze his way. 

Dane smiled, his deep dimples flashing not with impishness, but with spite.  He straightened his posture and stood, and for a moment, Arianna believed he was actually cooperating, that she’d gotten through to him.  But instead of making his way toward her, he tottered in place for several seconds. 

“This whole Desmond thing just makes me crazy,” he said and scrubbed his face with both hands.  “I just don’t understand why you’re with him after what he did to you.  I’m sorry, I don’t,” he said and splayed his arms at his sides before allowing them to land against his thighs with a slap. 

Dane was entering territory she didn’t feel comfortable treading on herself.  If he was going where she thought he was going with his line of thinking, Arianna wanted to stop the conversation before it began.  “Enough, Dane.  Just stop right there, okay.”

“No, don’t
worry; I’m not bringing up the whole Amitt thing.  That’s not what I’m getting at.  But for the record, I was there for you when you went through that.”

“It wasn’t him, remember?”
she said firmly.

“
Yeah, details.  Whatever.  But your heart thought it was.  And I was there for you.”

“And I thanked you for that.”

He licked his teeth.  “You did.”  He took a wobbly step toward her.  “You thanked me.  And now we all have Desmond to thank for our predicament,” he bobbed his head and blurted with self-righteousness born of inebriation.  He smiled proudly then continued.  “He got himself caught and let Darius come here and track you.  All of this that’s going on now, all the lives that’ve been lost, they’re his fault not yours.  And Golden Boy lets you beat yourself up day in and day out.”  He made a clicking sound with his tongue.  “What a guy, letting his woman take the blame for his shit!” he mocked.  “Don’t think I don’t see it.  ‘Cause I do.  I may be me and all, but I see everything.”  He held her with his glassy gaze for a moment.  Then he lowered his voice, speaking to her intimately.  “I would have died first before I ever let Darius find you.”

His words were a jumbled mess, slurred and sloppy.  But from what she could make of it, he was blaming Desmond for going to his father, Agnon’s lair and getting ca
ptured.  He believed Desmond had been lured too easily into a trap that set into motion Darius finding her. 

“So you’re saying this, all that’s happened with Darius, is Desmond’s fault?” she asked to be clear.  “Him leaving to go to his father when he sensed his death and getting caught, having his powers drained, all of it was his fault.  He should have known better?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dane said defiantly. 

Arianna tipped her chin and stared at the ceiling for a moment as she tried her best to harness the tempestuous rise of anger bubbling inside her.  “Talk about blaming the victim!” she sneered.  “Wow.  You’ve got some pair of balls to say that.
  You know damn well none of this is his fault.  You’re drunk and being an asshole,” she said more for her benefit than his, to remind herself that it was the alcohol talking, she hoped. 

Unexpectedly, he closed the distance between them. 
His brow gathered as he spoke.  “I may be drunk and I may be an asshole, but I love you Arianna,” he shocked her by saying. 

“Dane, no,” she sucked in a breath, unable to say anything further.  Her mind was swimming laps around the crazy tree.  Desmond was right.  He’d known all along.  Everyone had known.  Except her.

Her mouth went dry and the room felt as if the temperature had warmed by at least twenty degrees.  Her T-shirt strained against the deep breaths she took.  Sweat gathered between her shoulder blades and trickled to the small of her waist. 

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” he continued in a soft voice. 

“Dane don’t—” she tried to stop him from going on, but he moved closer, his chest nearly touching hers, the strong, sweet yet sour smell of alcohol invading her nostrils.  He raised his hands and dragged his knuckles down the side of her face with dexterity that betrayed his clumsy shambling.

“I love you,” he said again.

Arianna lifted both hands, placing both on his chest, pushing him back slightly.  Her breathing kicked up a notch, sanding the walls of her throat.  “Dane, stop.  Don’t,” she said, her voice thin and raspy.

A mixture of worry and dread thundered in her ears.  This moment should never be happening.  He shouldn’t have feeling
s for her.  She saw him as a brother, not a potential lover.  She did not know what to say, how to act.  But he was advancing, and likely reading her dumbstruck inarticulateness as her being overwhelmed by confusing emotions. 

Undaunted, he placed his
fingers atop hers and stroked the soft topside of her hands with the pads of his thumbs.  “And I know you have feelings for me.  I know it.  I can feel it,” he said and confirmed what she feared.  “I felt it when Desmond was gone, when you thought he’d betrayed you.”

“No, Dane, I was hurt and confused,” she started
but he talked over her.

“You flirted with me.  You know you did,” he said tenderly, the room feeling as if it swayed along with him, along with the soft slanting of his words.  “You don’t need to be
afraid or ashamed. You don’t need to hide.  He’s not here.  I can take care of you.”  His face was inching closer to hers, with every word he spoke.  She needed to stop this madness now. 

“I don’t
have feelings for you, Dane,” she turned her head and exclaimed just as his lips were about to brush hers.  “You’re wrong, you’re wrong about all of it.  I love Desmond.”

Dane reared his head back as if he’d been slapped.  His cheeks were banded with ribbons of deep pink and his expression was wounded. 
She hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, but hadn’t seen another way out, one that would end without him kissing her.  Still, clobbering him over the head with bluntness didn’t feel right either.

“Dane, I’m sorry,” she said and reached out a hand to grab his wrist.  He twisted and shook off her grip, flinging his hand overhead before crossing both behind his neck. 

“Oh man, that was some cold shit, even for you, Arianna,” he cried then laughed maniacally.  “Damn!”  He was pacing and clearly agitated. 

“Just stop, o
kay.  Will you please just stop?”

“For what, so you can tell me you feel nothing for me and that Desmond is the one you love?  No thanks.  I got that message loud and clear already,” he growled. 

“Come on, Dane, don’t be like that.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I panicked.  You dropped big news on me, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

He stopped moving for a second and stared at the hardwood floor he walked upon, his gaze distant and thoughtful.  “Huh!  Sounds about right.  You panicked and blasted me.  That’s typical of you, don’t you think.” His words dripped with acid.