****
Only a few minutes passed before the roar of Marcus's black mustang caught her attention. She stood up from her seat, dropping a few dollars on the table and walking toward the door. Several cops in the restaurant pinned her with their stares, her appearance ridiculous at best. She looked like she had taken a bath in blood and forgotten to dry off.
She slipped out into the night, pulling off her black t-shirt and slipping out of her shoes and pants before opening the door to the car. In nothing more than a white tank top, her bra and panties, she got in. His eyes moved along her, his hand reaching out to take hers.
"Are you okay? Fucking cops. You go outside to help someone and they drag you the fuck downtown without letting you wash off?"
"I'm fine." She leaned back, covering her face with her hands as she fought back tears. With a shaky breath, she gathered herself and reached down to bunch up her clothes and move them to the floorboard in the back seat. "I'm sorry about the car if anything gets on it."
"Hush. Don't worry about that shit. Tell me what happened. I called Paul. He'll be by tomorrow to work with you on whatever you need."
"I don't want to talk about it, Marcus. Tomorrow I'll fill you in." She squeezed his large hand, releasing it and turning to look out the window as he put the car in reverse. She pulled her legs up, tucking her knees to her chest and resting her forehead on her thighs.
"They didn't hurt you did they? They didn't touch you, right?"
"No. I'm just tired. A long night at the club, then watching someone I cared about bleed..." She paused, warm tears spilling over onto her cheeks as her voice broke. "... he was just a kid. He didn't deserve that shit."
"Katie. You know the world we live in, baby." His hand rubbed her back slowly, the sensation comforting as she fought through the horror of watching Adam die over and over again in her head.
"That doesn't make it any easier." She looked up, wiping at her eyes with the palms of her hands, trying not to smear blood on her face.
Marcus reached back and pulled at his shirt, the black cotton tee slipping over his head. He extended it to her. "Use this."
She took it and pressed the soft material to her face, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.
"Awwww fuck, Kate." He laughed and she chuckled, her tears slowing as he moved his hand from her back onto her arm.
"How likely are they to pin this on me? They wanted it to be me so bad. I could feel it in the air. They were digging and suggesting. I hate those fuckers."
"It would be easy if it were you." He shrugged, moving his hands to hold the steering wheel, his arms locked, thick muscles bunching up.
"I know. I just wish I could be normal. Have a normal life without being worried all the time about who's behind me waiting to slit my throat or bust me for something I didn't do."
Marcus glanced over at her, his hand reaching to brush the back of her hair. "You want to go home with me tonight? Stay with me and let me hold you?"
"No, that doesn't help. Just makes me think about things I can't have."
"Kate."
"I don't want to have this conversation. I just spent the night being interviewed for gunning down a teenage boy that was in love with me. I'm not talking about your commitment issues and my unwillingness to accept an open relationship. Not happening."
"Fair enough. You sure you want to go home?"
"More than sure." She turned to look back out the window, not wanting to cry in front of him again. They had enough hurt between the two of them that they didn't need to hurt each other again. They would never be anything and she was honestly good with that, but on a night like this one... how badly she wanted companionship, a man to hold her who loved her. Someone to protect her from the world, from the cops... from herself.
They pulled up to the club, Kate reaching back to grab her stuff. She dug her keys from her pants pocket and opened the door.
"You want to get dressed first?"
"No. I'm just going up to the apartment. No one will pay me much attention."
Marcus turned and looked out toward the street, tons of people moving about. "You're kidding me right? It's packed out here. There are people everywhere. The number of horny men outweighs the number of fish in the sea. You're not getting out like that."
"Good night, my friend. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. We can go over the numbers and make orders for the next two weeks. Don't let me forget Mardi Gras is upon us. Let's stock up for that."
"Kate. I'm serious. I'm as hard as a rock because you're in your fucking panties in my car. You're not shaking your ass in front of Bourbon Street."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her fingers brushing over his thigh and by his erection. A smile lifted her lips as sadness beckoned her to pale away from anything warm.
"You're not my daddy and you don't care enough to be more than an occasional lover, so you don't get a say in what I do." She kissed his cheek again and got out of the car, the growl following her of no concern at all. They would fuck when she needed him or he needed her. It was their arrangement, or his rather.
He made his bed with her and now he could lie in it - alone.