Chapter 18
1476 Words
18
“Wow, you’re a mess.” Lilith sat down on the empty barstool next to a swaying Samantha and waved at the bartender. “Water, Brendan.”
“No…” Sam slurred. “More deers.”
“What?”
She tried to grab the half-empty bottle of whisky, but only managed to vaguely wave in the right direction. “Deers.”
Lilith sighed as she pulled the bottle out of reach. “I don’t think so.”
“But…”
“Did she drink all this by herself?” Lilith asked Brendan as he placed a glass of water down in front of Sam.
“I’m afraid so, Miss Lilith.” He pulled a face, like he had just bitten in an imaginary lemon. “She bought the bottle.”
“Of course. Refund her the money and put it on my tab.”
“No!” Sam tried to focus her eyes on Lilith, hiccuping comically. “I’m… I can pay for… Myself.”
“Bold statement. Here.” She pressed the glass of water in Sam’s hand. “Drink.”
“Hmm…” A little reluctantly, she attempted to take a sip but her numb lips let the water escape. She wiped her mouth and then wiped the back of her hand. “Look.”
“At?”
Sam held up her arm. “You could tap my veins like a beer keg.”
“Right… So, I take it your meeting with Catalina didn’t go well?”
“Who?”
“Catalina.”
“Catalina,” Sam slurred. “Oh, her. She’s hot.”
Lilith sighed impatiently. “Did she tell you anything about Tomas or Ian?”
The world spun a little as Samantha laid her head on the bar. “She wants to drink my blood, but I need it in my body. I can’t let her drink me.”
“Did she scare you? Is that why you’re wasted?”
Sam hiccuped. “I’m going to drink soooo much. I wasn’t allowed to do that when I was… When I was on duty, you know?”
“I wonder why.”
“All the rulessss… I worked so hard, my whole life to catch the baddies. Samantha, do this. Samantha, do that. Samantha get me coffee. Samantha, fill out this paperwork.” She nodded off for a second before jolting back up, her cheeks flushed. “It took sooo long to become a detective. Then they just tossed me out like trash.”
“What does that have to do with Catalina?
“It’s alwaaays the same. People just use me.” She lifted her head, a cardboard coaster stuck to her cheek. “Why is she divorcing me?”
“What?”
“Am I a bad wife? Does she no longer love me?”
“Love is really not my field of expertise. Is that what this is about? Your wife?”
“She moved out today.”
Lilith awkwardly patted Sam’s shoulder, a well-meant attempt to cheer her up. “I think it’s time to go home. I’ll take you.”
“Home,” Sam mumbled. She wasn’t too sure what that meant anymore.
“Yes, home. We’ll grab a taxi outside.”
“Taxi,” Sam slurred. “That’s a funny word. Taxi… Taaaaxi.”
“A cab.”
She looked up at Lilith, a goofy smile dancing around her lips. “You’re pretty.”
That stunned the other woman for just a second. “Excuse me?”
“So pretty,” Sam admitted in her drunken haze. “I like your eyes. That’s how I remember your name.”
“What?”
“Eyes that lie. Lie-lith. Lilith,” she mumbled, reiterating the memory trick she’d put in place.
“Eyes that lie?”
“Yes, it’s a little donkey bridge.”
“Excuse me?”
“A little donkey bridge. That’s what they call it in Dutch.”
“What? No, no, I’m not talking about the donkey bridge. My eyes lie?”
If she hadn’t been so drunk, Sam could’ve seen the hurt flash through the mentioned piercing blue eyes, but her observation skills were dulled by the copious amounts of whisky coursing through her veins.
Sam waved a finger in front of Lilith’s face. “Do you like… hot dogs?”
“Humans…” She firmly grabbed Sam by the elbow. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Don’t forget my dog!”
“I won’t forget Demon Bite.”
Bickering and bantering, the two exchanged the Drunken Turnip for the cool outside. The fresh air helped clear some of Sam’s haze, long enough for her to see the sense in going home and climbing into the taxi.
She fell asleep before the driver even set up and slept awkwardly in her seat for the entire ride. It wasn’t until they pulled up in her driveway that she jolted awake and wiped some drool from her chin.
“What? Where are we?”
“Home,” Lilith supplied. She fished a couple of bills from somewhere and held them out to the driver. “Wait here for me and I’ll double that tip.”
“Will do, Ma’am.”
“Come on, Sam.”
With a click, the seat buckle came undone and Samantha swung the door open, narrowly avoiding tumbling out of the car. She swayed up the stone path to the front door, her keys jangling as she tried to find the right one.
“Honestly.” Lilith sighed as she took the keys from Sam and with one motion, she unlocked the door and let it swing into the dark hallway. A familiar dark greeted them, but once the light was on, it illuminated a different sight.
Still in a daze, Sam stumbled into her house, passing the bare coatholder and an empty cabinet, still with the doors open. The big mirror and rug were gone, the lonely painting in the hallway was crooked, and as Lilith followed Sam into the kitchen, they found the table missing and most of the cupboards cleared out.
Lilith frowned as she put the hellhound down. “Were you robbed?”
“No, I told you. Melissa moved out.” She rummaged through the cupboards for a glass, but only found a couple of mugs. She rolled her eyes and just drank straight from the tap, wetting her face and hair in the process.
“And your wife— ex-wife took all your stuff?”
Sam shrugged. “We bought most of it together.”
“But—”
“I don’t care.” She returned from the sink, her face dripping, and sat down on the remaining high chairs at the kitchen island where she kicked off her shoes. “None of that stuff matters.”
“Okay…”
“I’m tired.” She looked around, taking in the barren state of the house. Melissa was gone and she was left with the remnants of their battlefield. A kitchen with barely any equipment, a living room with a missing couch. Any life they breathed into the walls was gone and just as Melissa had become a stranger, so had her home.
Saddened, she looked up at Lilith, the drunken haze replaced with a brief moment of clarity.
“It’s really over, isn’t it? She’s gone. Really gone… I thought…” Sam sighed deeply, her head sinking back on the stone surface of the island. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”
A hand found her shoulder. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“Hmm…”
“Come on.”
With a nudge, Lilith managed to peel Sam away from the kitchen and steer her upstairs. The staircase creaked from the foreign weight, introducing unfamiliar noises into the echoing hall.
“Where’s your bedroom?” Lilith asked.
“Here,” Sam mumbled, stumbling over the threshold into the empty bedroom. A double bed with one pillow, the universal symbol of loneliness.
She tried to undress, but ended up tangled in the sleeves of her jacket. She struggled against the fabric until deciding she didn’t care and just collapsing on her bed.
“Humans are so useless,” Lilith muttered, but despite that, she reached out to help.
The two women wrestled with the clothing until Sam was left in her undershirt and her slip. If she was sober, she’d have been embarrassed to be this naked near the young woman, but she barely registered it. She slipped under the covers and pulled them up to her chin, welcoming the warmth.
“Ahhh.”
Lilith fumbled awkwardly with Sam’s jacket, trying to fold it neatly, before throwing it over a lone chair. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, yeah?”
“Hmm…”
“Right. Goodnight.”
Before she reached the hallway, Samantha sat back up, some of the drunken haze worn off. “Lilith?”
“… Yes?”
“I don’t want to be by myself,” she admitted softly. “Could you… Could you stay?”
The woman hesitated.
Sam’s voice quivered. “Please?”
Finally, Lilith nodded. “Okay.”
A sad smile tugged on Sam’s lips. “Thanks…”
“Do you…” Lilith scratched her neck. “Do you have a guest room or something?”
For a moment, Sam contemplated asking the young woman to stay but she wasn’t ready to have someone sleep in her bed that wasn’t Melissa, platonic or not. She waved in the direction of the back of the house. “Guest room is down the hall.”
“Okay. I’ll just let the taxi know, but I’ll stay,” she promised.
“Hmm-hmm.”
She lay back down and listened to Lilith’s footsteps as she descended the stairs and passed through the hall. She heard the click of the lock, the vague conversation outside, and then the reassuring return. The door of the guest room thudded softly shut and Sam relaxed slightly, knowing she wasn’t completely alone.
The foot of the bed dipped and a faint blue glow illuminated the room. With a soft whine, the hellhound puppy curled into a ball near Sam’s leg and yawned adorably.
“Cheeky,” Sam muttered. “You’re supposed to sleep in the study.”
Despite that, she made no attempt to chase the pup away. She welcomed the company and with a tender feeling in her chest, she reached out to stroke the dog’s head.
“Good girl. I guess you can stay tonight.”
With the wind howling around the house, Samantha finally closed her eyes and embraced her first real night as a divorcée.
- Writer
