Veil of Crimson

Is It Magic, Or Is It Voodoo?

I’m sitting in a bar about half an hour later. I was lucky enough to get some clothes that a hotel guest has left behind one time and never returned to get them. I’m not sure if it can be labelled as clothing, to be honest. That’s how little skin it covers.

I’m not the kind of woman who wears dresses often. And now I’m sipping on my third Sazerac, barely able to move in a tiny red cocktail dress that squeezes my every curve. It’s a wonder I didn’t get mistaken for a hooker yet.

I stare at the neatly ornamented orange peel, swimming inside the mixture of alcohol, knowing that drowning my sadness in a glass is a bad idea. But what does one actually do, when they catch their fiancé f*****g another woman?

I scrunch my face as the image flashes my mind. I feel disgusted to the bottom of my gut. I can’t believe I judged him so poorly. I’m usually a good judge of character. I guess love is really blind.

Leaning my head against my hand, I grab the slice of orange that’s stuck on the edge of the glass, starting to stir the content with it. Then, I put it against my mouth, sucking the juice out, before biting into it. I put the peel aside only to realize that someone’s watching me.

I know better than to be obvious, so I wait a while before casually looking around the bar. Even if the person watching me is sitting literally two bar chairs away from me. As I turn my head back forward, I take a look at him with the side of my eye, never pinning my gaze directly on him.

Damn. Hottie alarm. He’s sitting there in an expensive looking suit, his brown hair neatly parted on the side, but looking a little messy, so he doesn’t come off as completely unapproachable. He’s drinking scotch, almost making me scoff at the sight. Of course. What else would a business man like him order? He doesn’t look like he belongs in this bar. He’s way too polished for it.

I sip on my drink calmly, keeping my gaze fixated forward. I don’t let it waver in his direction even for a moment, despite being tempted to take a closer look at that handsome face. You can imagine my surprise as he suddenly lifts himself up and sits down right next to me, making me panic.

“Love is too young to know what conscience is;

Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?” he speaks up in a low, kind of raspy voice. I don’t know why I do it, but I turn my head against him, despite everything inside me screaming not to.

“Seriously? What makes you think I’m in the mood for poetry?” I ask him a little too defensively. But the moment I meet his blue-eyed gaze, something inside me twitches. God. Damn. That’s one fine fellow. Not letting him know that, of course. I’m sure he’s aware of the fact how good-looking he is.

A small smile starts playing around his lips. “You know, you’re the first woman to ever ask me that,” he replies, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. I stare at him, starting to get a little annoyed. I blink in surprise, realizing that his looks aren’t deceiving. He’s exactly who I think he is. Another womanizer preying on his next victim.

“I hope you’re enjoying it,” I remark, turning back to the bartender and waving him over. “Another Sazerac!” I demand, making him glance at the half-empty glass in front of me. He looks like he doesn’t want to get me another drink until I finish this one.

I groan to myself, grabbing the glass and gulping the rest of its content in one take. As I put it back down, I look at the bartender again, who sighs to himself. “Right away, darlin’,” he lets me know dryly, clearly not happy about how much I’m drinking.

He doesn’t have to worry about me, he’s not my mother. I have no one to worry about me, really. At least not right here. “I’m never enjoying myself when such a pretty lady clearly has a rough day behind her,” the man beside me speaks up again.

I glare at him openly, really not in the mood to have someone hitting on me. Not after I was just cheated on. I don’t even want to see any men right now. Though I know it’s impossible, but still. No testosterone around me, because it’s suffocating me. “That’s none of your business. Now leave me alone, I want to mourn in peace,” I inform him.

As I turn my gaze back forward, he places his hand dangerously next to mine. It makes my eye twitch. I might have some alcohol in my system already, but I’m still trained to kick nosy asses like his. Not in minidresses though, but I think I’m drunk enough to be able to manage.

He doesn’t say anything until I get another drink. “One for me, too, please,” he then tells the bartender, who sends him a nasty look. Like he couldn’t have said that earlier, when I ordered. He still jumps right into character, putting a polite smile on his face.

“Right away, sir,” he tells him, then disappears to the other side of the counter. I don’t look at the man, but I can tell he has his eyes glued on me. I can see where his head is turned and I can literally feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. Can’t he just back off, damn it?

“Who is he? It looks like he needs a lesson on how to be a decent fiancé,” he remarks, making me freeze. I clench my left hand. I still haven’t taken the ring off. I intended to sell it, but I needed to have a drink first. Or five.

I can’t help but look at him. This one is good at reading people, too. What does he do for a living? Salesman? No, that’s Armani. There’s no way an ordinary salesman would be able to afford that. Unless he’s working in the trading market. “He needs a lesson on how to keep his d**k inside his pants,” I then remark, not really sure why I’m telling him that.

A lump appears inside my throat and I have to force myself not to let my emotions get the best of me. Just pretend you’re on the job, El. You’re a stone. That’s right. Nothing can get to you if you distance yourself from it enough. “Give me his name and he’s a dead man,” the man suddenly says, making me freeze.

I reach behind my belt instinctively, only to realize that I don’t have my gun on me. He notices the movement, making him smirk in a triumphant way. He tilts his head curiously, studying me like he’s trying to see into my head. I don’t like it.

“Well, well. A policewoman. Just as I thought,” he remarks, smiling at the bartender as he places the Sazerac in front of him. Then, he pulls out a hundred dollar bill and pushes it over the counter. “You can keep all the change. I think someone just called you from down the bar. People are thirsty,” he tells him.

The bartender stares at it for a moment, before taking it and heading away from us. I stare at the exchange in shock, glancing at the man in surprise. There’s no way he’s doing anything legal to have that kind of money. “Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?” I hear myself asking.

He smiles at me, clearly amused by my reaction. “Relax, darling,” he says, before suddenly leaning closer, making me freeze, but the alcohol doesn’t let my instincts react. I stay still as he whispers into my ear: “I don’t bite. Well, maybe a little.”

As he moves away, a strange heat travels through my body like he’s hypnotized me or something. I shake my head, trying to clear it up. “You know what? I have no idea who you are and you have no idea who I am. Let’s just keep it like that,” I tell him, before grabbing my drink.

I throw my head backwards, emptying the entire glass. I shudder again as I place it back on the counter. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. You look like you’re in desperate need of a cheer-up party. I promise I’ll keep my fangs to myself,” he tells me, flashing a full smile at me now.

I notice how perfectly white his teeth are. They literally make my eyes hurt. I stare at him for a moment longer, shaking my head at myself. Or at him, I’m not sure anymore. “I’m not the type of girl you’re hunting for. I don’t do one night stands,” I turn him down, not knowing why I’m still sitting there.

He chuckles in response, shaking his head. There’s something about him … I don’t know. It’s pulling me towards him like magic. You’re in New Orleans, El, it’s not magic, it’s voodoo. “Oh, you got this completely the wrong way. I don’t hunt. People come to me willingly,” he lets me know.

I frown in confusion, then shake my head, sighing in defeat. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say here, but it doesn’t make any sense. And frankly, I’m too drunk to think about it,” I let him know. He seems amused at my reaction. “Bye, stranger. Thanks for the drink,” I then add, deciding to get the hell out of here, before he makes me change my mind.

The longer I’m staying here, the more he looks like a snack. I’m starting to understand why ‘people come to him willingly’, like he just put it. I turn around on the chair, brushing my knees against his in the process. Oof. I shouldn’t have done that.

I glance at him for a moment, noticing the look that he gives me. Like he’s already won. Oh, no. Hell, no. I’m not getting cheated on and having a one night stand in the same evening. Nope, nope, nope. I hop off the chair clumsily, stumbling a little.

Before I know it, he’s turned in the same direction as me, his arm holding me steady. Everything inside me is tingling as I feel his big hand on my abdomen. Holy f*****g s**t, he’s good. “Careful there. No need to make yourself bleed,” he murmurs into my ear.

I free myself from his grasp, putting some safe distance between us before turning around with a defiant gaze. I’m not giving in. Period. “I’m fine. Have a nice evening, stranger,” I tell him, not knowing why it makes me smile. He seems amused at my greeting.

He raises his hand at me. “Bye, beautiful. Be safe,” he greets me back. I linger there a moment longer, shaking my head at myself before finally managing to glue myself off the spot and walk out of the bar with my feet all wobbly.

I’m not sure why, but the interaction with this dude has left me somewhere between annoyed and giddy. My expression keeps shifting all the way to the hotel. Frown, smile, frown, smile. Back and forth like I’m going crazy. If there’s anyone watching me, I’m sure they think I’m ready to go to the madhouse.

As I lock the room, I’m once again shaking my head at myself. I can’t believe one smooth-talking guy made me turn like that. It hasn’t even been three hours since I caught my fiancé with his d**k inside another woman.

I glance at the diamond on my finger, letting out a frustrated sigh. He never loved me, did he? It makes my lower lip tremble in defeat and all my defenses crumble. I end up sobbing as I’m pacing up and down the room, trying to get the damn ring off my finger.

The moment I finally succeed, I throw it to the ground angrily, shaking my head in disbelief. If I could, I’d release all my rage at it. But really, how do you hurt a piece of jewelry? No, I’m going to the pawn shop tomorrow. Then, I’m going apartment hunting. I can’t afford this hotel for long.

I pick the ring up and put it next to my gun. No one’s going to look for it here, in case I have a break in. Yes, I’m being paranoid. I shudder all of a sudden, feeling like I’m being watched. It’s a strange feeling. I can’t shake it off, no matter how hard I try.

I’m just tearing the dress off me, barely managing to pull it over my head because it’s so tiny. I’m left standing in my underwear, looking through the balcony door in worry. I opened it in order to let some fresh air in, but … I don’t really feel safe anymore.

I walk over to it, glancing outside to check if there’s anyone standing at the balcony. I shake my head at myself as I realize I’m alone. Of course, I’m just imagining things. Who would climb nine stories to come scare the crap out of me?

I close the door with a sigh, then pull the curtains together, in order to close myself away from the outside world. Still, I can’t shake that strange feeling off even as I go take a bath. Must be the alcohol. I shouldn’t have drunk that much. That’s not how a responsible detective behaves.

The silence inside the room is almost eerie, as I get out of the bathroom. And what makes me panic is the fact that it’s completely dark. I don’t remember turning the light off. I feel around the wall for a switch, almost crying out in relief as I find it. But as I use it, nothing happens. Oh. Great. The lights went out.

I shake my head at my paranoia and somehow drag myself to bed. It’s okay, I’ll live through one night of darkness. I’m going to bed anyway. However, I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m not alone in here. Not even as I already manage to lull myself to sleep.