7
Audra
“He did what?”
I put my hand in the water stream to check its temperature. The bath filled slowly. I left the bathroom so Zahira wouldn’t hear it over the line.
“Right there in a room full of dead animals,” I said. It was late evening. I had just gotten home, and the sun was just going down. Late nights weren’t unusual. The Strickland lot was so big that we had decided to stagger the shipping over a few days. The smaller things; the books, rolled up rugs and smaller furniture pieces came first. The taxidermy would take a lot more care and time transporting, especially the ones with more than one piece.
The woman I’d mistakenly called Mrs. Strickland—her name was actually Silvia Guzman—had been right about the records. It seemed he had to some degree kept up with personal cataloging. That made my job so much easier. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. I had been back to the house a couple more times, but I had thankfully missed Levi when I was there.
“No points for atmosphere,” she quipped.
“His hand was right on that spot; you know the back of your neck?” I said, “He was pulling my hair.”
“You let him?”
“I… I didn’t stop him,” I said. She laughed.
“What else would you let him do?” she asked.
“Nothing weird,” I said vaguely. I walked back into the bathroom and checked the water temperature. Too hot.
“Mm-hmm, you say that now, but next time you see him, you’ll be begging him to drag you across the floor by your hair and spit in your mouth.”
“I don’t even know the guy, Zahira; I’m not about to jump in the sack with him.”
He’d already offered once, and I had politely declined. No, I’d run away, but more or less the same thing.
“Why not?” she asked. I turned the water off.
“Excuse me?”
“Why not? Were you attracted to him?”
“No,” I lied. “I mean, he was alright.”
“What did he look like?”
“Like a guy? I wasn’t looking that close.” Another lie. “He was tall, kind of big. He had some tattoos.”
“Tattoos? So, nothing like Brandon. He’s perfect. Go for it.”
“No. I can’t. He’s the consignor of the lot I’m appraising at the auction house.”
“You’re saying that like you’re a shrink and he’s your patient. There aren’t real rules against getting involved with him are there?”
Officially, no there weren’t. I could do it, but just because I could, didn’t mean I should. I wanted to. I wanted to the minute he’d suggested it with Debbie. I’d never been part of a threesome before, but maybe the experience was enriching. I just wanted him. He was right. When he had had his hand around my wrist, I hadn’t wanted him to let go, not really. I was afraid of what he might do, but I was a little curious too. And wet. I was so wet when I finally drove back to San Francisco.
What would he have done if his mom hadn’t walked in on us? I’d been kissed before, enough times to know what a good kiss felt like and what a bad one felt like. The one he’d given me was definitely in the top three. Top two that I had ever received in my life. Okay, number one. It was the best.
“I just don’t want to make things complicated,” I said. She told me I was making excuses. I walked out of the bathroom to grab a toy to toss in the bath. The bath was for the cats, not for me. Hecate loved taking baths, but Hephaestus just tolerated it. He would cry and complain, but he never got violent.
“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Spending the night in my studio,” she said. I waited for her to tell me she had a date, but she didn’t. She was free very few nights a week. I pounced on whatever free time she had for us to hang out. Between my work hours and hers, we logged hundreds of minutes a week over the phone.
It was a Friday night. She was working, and I was shampooing my cats. Aren’t your twenties supposed to be the most exciting decade of your life? Allegedly.
I told her I’d call her the next day and hung up. I lifted my cat into the tub. I used baby shampoo on them. Hephaestus was nowhere in sight. He was probably hiding. I lifted her out and swaddled her in a towel.
The doorbell rang.
“Who’s that, Hecate?” I asked her, walking towards the door. I lived alone. If the cats weren’t there, I would talk to myself, regardless. They didn’t know what the fuck I was saying when I would talk, but that was what made them such good listeners.
I pulled the door open. I didn’t know who exactly I thought it would be. Maybe one of my neighbors? Amazon? I hadn’t ordered anything lately. The only thing I’d received in the past week was a box from my mother that I’d put off opening. The cats had made it a scratching post.
Of all the people it could have been, I hadn’t expected Levi Strickland. The shaved head, the deep, penetrating eyes, the beautiful mouth, tanned skin. Yeah, it was him. He was in a white button-down shirt and belted slacks.
Maybe if I closed the door and opened it again, he wouldn’t be there anymore. It was worth a try. I closed the door, but he stopped it with one strong arm. I backed away letting him push it open.
He walked in and closed the door behind him. Well shit, now I knew how I would react when I was under attack. I would die. Hecate wriggling in my hold snapped me out of it. I let her go, bunching the towel in my hands.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why haven’t I seen you at the house?” he asked.
“The lot’s being shipped; I don’t have to come anymore. Why are you here?”
“Don’t play dumb, Audra. You’re a smart girl, we both know the answer to that question.”
Didn’t people say speak of the devil, and he would appear? There he was; Beelzebub. For a second, I didn’t know what the hell to do. What the hell did he expect me to do? Just strip and let him ravish me? It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, I was just a little offended that he didn’t bother being the least bit delicate about it. I was still a chick. I liked to be wooed. I could do the caveman thing too, but at least take me out a couple of times first.
The doorbell rang again, re-engaging my faculties. I tried to go get it, but he was closer than me. He turned and opened it. Okay, you can show up unannounced, that’s one thing, but this? When did this become our apartment? I came up behind him and tugged on the door for him to let me see who was there to see me. Me, not us. He was talking to them, but I couldn’t see who it was. His body blocked them. I noticed the back of his head. Was that a tattoo?
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Levi was saying. I pulled on the door to make him let go. A confused and enraged Brandon was standing at the door about to say something to Levi before he saw me.
“Audra, who is this guy?” he asked me.
“Brandon, I told you not to come back here,” I said, officially over it. I walked back into the house. I’d been fielding his texts and calls since I had told him it was over that morning with Zahira over text message. Was he here to call me a bitch? Maybe he had, I just hadn’t read the text.
What happened to my Friday night? Didn’t either of them have anything better to do? After bathing the cats, I was going to get some work done. Not Strickland’s work. My mother had taken steps to make sure I appreciated the arts—visual and otherwise. She was an opera voice coach back in New York.
She’d had me in art classes since I was old enough to finger paint: drawing, painting, sculpture, calligraphy, everything. The calligraphy was all that had stuck. I could murder typography but couldn’t do a still life to save my life. Zahira had convinced me to use that for something. Some occasions called for beautiful writing. I had written literally hundreds of wedding invitations on commission but whatever paid the rent and vet fees. Her biggest tattoo, across her shoulder blades, was a quote from Anna Karenina which I had designed for her in gothic script.
“Audra, you can’t just-. What the fuck man?” I turned. Levi was standing between Brandon and me. His back was to me, but the air felt heavy the way it did when he and his brother were staring each other down. I didn’t want to see Brandon, but I also didn’t want to see him get his teeth knocked in.
“Brandon, I need you to leave. You and I have nothing to discuss,” I said gently. I walked over to them, standing between the two. I could feel Levi behind me as I looked at Brandon. His eyes kept darting between me and the man behind me.
“Who is this?” he asked menacingly. It took me out for a second; he had never been this mad. His voice was dripping with venom. What usually happened in these situations was he would beg me to take him back, say he was sorry, and cry. He wasn’t just mad, I realized, he was jealous.
“Are you really going to make her ask you again? Get out.”
So, kicking people out was something Levi was just good at. His voice was threatening. It was like he was asking Brandon to try to stay here longer than the next ten seconds. To try and see what happened.
“Audra?” Brandon demanded.
Levi barreled past me and grabbed him.
“Levi, don’t,” I said. I didn’t want a fight. “Brandon, just leave, okay? Levi… just, wait here,” I said, wanting to deal with them one at a time.
I walked Brandon to the door, stepping outside with him and holding the door closed.
“Are you and that dude together?” he demanded.
“That’s none of your business, Brandon. You and I are not.”
“Was it when we were still together?” he demanded. Oh, he wanted to play that game? I wasn’t going to bite.
“I told you this was the last time. I’m done.”
He dragged his eyes up and down my frame. I was in a tank top and sweatpants; I was spending the night at home. My hair was up, and my makeup was gone. I had no reason to feel self-conscious. He was the one at his ex’s house begging for another chance after repeatedly being told to fuck off.
“So what, that’s it? After two years this is what you’re going to do?”
“I said it was over and I was serious. Brandon, I’ve given you two years, and it was truly two more than you deserved.”
“You’re not going to hear me out?”
The doorknob flew from my grasp. Levi appeared in the frame glaring at Brandon. Obviously, we’d taken too long.
“Not again. Leave,” I said to Brandon. He looked at Levi. Both were silent, but they must have communicated something. It was just like when he and his brother were staring down in Jackson Strickland’s house. Brandon said he would be back and without looking at me again walked away. I sighed. Had I just taken the stairs instead of the elevator? Sure felt like it. I was tired. I was done. Who were all these men in my house and could they all just fuck off? I walked back into the apartment. Levi followed me.
“Oh no, you have to leave too,” I told him.
“Who was that?”
“He was- nobody you need to concern yourself with,” I said, stopping myself from telling him. “I need you to leave.”
“Is he stalking you? Is he harassing you?”
“No, you are,” I said walking away from him. I was doing something before he showed up. The water was probably cold. I went to the bathroom and checked it. Frigid. I pulled the plug to start draining it. Where was Hephaestus? It was feeding time already; Hecate would start up soon.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He sounded close, in the bathroom with me. I started filling the bath up again.
“I was trying to groom my cats, before you showed up,” I grumbled. I left the room to look for Hephaestus. He was going to be so mad. I checked my bedroom, and there he was, a kitty lump in the middle of my bed, under the comforter. I lifted it and saw him looking up at me, in a way I’d describe as dolefully.
I carefully lifted him and held him against my chest. He was meowing in protest.
“Give me the cat,” Levi suddenly said. Hephaestus was wriggling in my arms. I felt the tips of his claws against my skin.
“No,” I said automatically. Levi was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up like he was going into surgery. Hephaestus leaped from my grasp.
“Go check the water temperature,” he said. No, I wanted to say again. I watched as he approached my skittish cat. He let Hephaestus rub his face in his hand before he gently picked him up. What was happening?
“Is the bath ready?” he asked.
I went into the bathroom and turned the water off.
“Hold his chest and scruff,” he instructed me. He knelt by the tub and lowered a mewling Hephaestus into the tub. I followed his instructions as he efficiently soaped the cat up and rinsed him off. I did this often; he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, it was just stuff I didn’t realize he knew. I’d never had a partner grooming my cats before. When he gently pressed Hephaestus’s paw pads to clean around his claws, I knew he had done this before.
“You have a cat?” I asked. He lifted Hephaestus out of the tub. I grabbed a towel and took him, patting him dry.
“No. We had them in the house growing up. My sister likes these bald ones too,” he said. He scratched Hephaestus under the chin.
I heard Hecate at my feet. It was food time. She meowed at me plaintively before walking over to their empty food bowls. I put Hephaestus down and went into the kitchen. I pulled their food out of the fridge and picked the bowls up to fill them. I felt Levi’s eyes on me the whole time. I didn’t like it. He was too quiet—like he was up to something. I’d rather he did anything but watch me silently like that.
“Did you want something?” I asked, out of everything I could have asked. For instance; why are you here, how do you know where I live, why haven’t you tried to kiss me yet?
“What did I tell you about being shy?” he snapped. “You know exactly what I want because you want it too.”
“Did you and Debbie fall out or something?” I asked sounding bolder than I felt. “There are professionals you can call to help you with those particular problems.” He didn’t say it and didn’t have to. I knew what he wanted. He could have been less gross about it, though.
“You’re hesitating, and I want to expedite this anyway I can.”
“Sorry, buddy. No dice,” I said.
“You aren’t doing yourself any favors denying yourself what you want. What I can give you,” he said.
“Maybe, but it’s killing you, right? Please leave my home. Don’t come back again.” I turned to walk away from him.
“Stop,” he barked. I did, before realizing I had and started again. “Stop,” he said again. I looked at him.
“Come here.” I stopped myself before I could start moving toward him.
“No,” I said. He paused before he walked towards me. Long angry strides. Well, it’s been a great twenty-six years, was this how I died? He held me by the back of my neck again, making me look up at him. I expected him to kiss my lips, but he went for my neck instead, sucking, and using his teeth. It made me hotter than I wanted to admit.
“Stop it,” I said breathlessly. He didn’t. His hands held me still. One of them reached up into my hair and pulled it free, so it tumbled down my shoulders. “Stop,” I said again weakly. I wanted and didn’t want him to at the same time.
He backed away from me slowly. I swallowed looking at his dark face.
“That is the last time I’m letting you refuse yourself,” he said ominously.
He turned around without another word and left.