The Full Moon Speakeasy

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Troubled Mind

They agreed to go to the Full Moon Speakeasy. If she couldn’t go home and have some privacy, at least she could have a drink and hopefully sit alone to think. She didn’t like the idea of being around so many people, but she knew it was better than being alone with Noah, which would surely distract her and pull her into him again before she had time to reach her own conclusions; or walking home and ending up dead or worse by the rival gang. She had many questions about those guys as well, but they could wait for another day. 

The doorman didn’t bother with a password of course when he saw Noah, letting the two of them in and only muttering evening, Lupo as they passed. Getting into the club, Noah walked her to a booth that didn’t have any around it and was set to the side where it wasn’t in direct line of sight of others. “This is my booth. You can sit here as long as you like. No one will bother you but the bartender, and even if you want him away, you just tell him to piss off. Alright?” he told her softly, to which she nodded. “I’ll leave you alone. If you want me, just tell the bartender or really any guy you see. They’ll come get me. Just please don’t leave the club itself. Okay?”

“Alright,” Luci agreed. 

Noah hesitated but kissed the top of her head before pivoting on a heel, adjusting his coat and moving out into the crowds. Before she could relax, the bartender was over to her. “What can I get you, Miss?” 

“Oh, uhmm. I’m not sure. I haven’t really drank much before the last couple days,” she admitted. 

He nodded, giving her a kind smile. She quite liked how friendly his light brown eyes were and how charming his well groomed mustache was. “Well, do you prefer something refreshing or decadent?” 

“Refreshing,” she answered after though. 

“Sweet or dry?” 

She thought for a moment. “A little sweet, but not too terribly.”

He winked at her and walked off. After just a minute, he returned with a familiar looking drink in a stemmed glass. “This is a French seventy-five. Gin, champagne, sugar, and lemon. Enjoy.” 

It was the same drink she had at Noah’s apartment, her heart panging a little. She thanked him and waited for him to walk off before taking a long sip. It was just as divine as she remembered, so crisp and refreshing. After allowing herself to enjoy it for a little while, she took in a deep breath and relaxed back into the suede cushion. 

She didn’t bother trying to organize her thoughts and emotions at first, she allowed them to run rampant in hopes her mind would tire out and submit to make the process easier. Werewolves. Gangs. Drinking. Bootleggers. The rivals. Fate. Soulmates. Destiny. Lord. Was she ever going to be able to wrap her head around it all, or was she just going to have to accept it at face value and through herself into it? To stop questioning and only accept. It seemed against her nature; Luci had always been curious and stubborn. She was the type of person who needed to know how things worked in order to accept them. But the issue at hand was werewolves and fate, not math problems or science. The supernatural and divinity were far above her, so was it even right for her to question it? She had no idea. Picking up her drink, she downed a good bit more of them. Maybe she would drink until the thoughts ceased and she was only left with acceptance. If only it were that easy. 

There was the distinct sound of someone sitting down. Peering up, Luci was faced with Thelma. Of course, she looked as glamorous as she could. Her blonde hair in glossy, elegant waves, her lips painted a dark shade of brown, and wearing yet another fine beaded dress of silver and white. Her arms were crossed and one perfectly plucked brow arched. “I told you to stay away from Noah. I told you it was only going to cause you trouble. I told you—”

Her harsh, snarky words caught in her throat. Thelma’s eyes were locked onto Lucille’s. She guessed that her friend could see the tears pooled in them that still hadn’t left. In fact, they had multiplied and were starting to slip down her cheeks as Thelma gave her a proper tongue lashing. Lucille brushed the tears away and nodded. “I know I should have stayed away, Thelma. I get that now. But I think you know as well as I do that once you know this club, it’s already too late to walk away.” 

Thelma’s face softened and her gaze became cryptic. Her shoulders dropped and mouth twitched. Then, she stood and move around the table and scooted in to sit next to Lucille. “Tell me what’s going on,” she said gently. 

It was taking all of her not to break out in full sobs then. Busying herself by sipping her drink, she waited for the urge to cry to fully pass before she even thought about talking. Lucille knew that there wasn’t any point in hiding anything from Thelma, assuming she knew everything too since she was dating Emil. “I think it was on the surface hard to accept Noah because he was not just a gangster, but a boss. I don’t even have a way to wrap my head around the fact they are werewolves. And then to top all of it off, to find out I’m a fated mate to this guy I barely know sounds insane—  but I feel it, I really do. And while that should be excited, I know he’s engaged to Imelda. And that it’s the two of them that are supposed to save everyone. I barely know the guy and I feel selfish for not just liking him, but having this ethereal sort of bond with him, when I know it’s only going to get in the way of what he needs to do for the pack or whatever… It’s all just a mess. I feel like I haven’t even had time to breathe let alone process it. I don’t even know if there is processing all this.”

Things fell silent for a few moments before Thelma breathed, “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t know all that. I just thought you liked the guy. I was trying to look out for you, but I see I’ve been a real jerk.”

“You can say that again,” Lucille muttered, though she tried to force a smile to show she didn’t really mean it. 

Thelma gave a weak smile back and squeezed Lucille’s hand. “Well, if I can tell you anything, is that I get it. I get the confusion… I’m Emil’s mate,” she admitted. Lucille’s eyes widened but then her body relaxed. Even though it was crazy to think they were both fated to wolves, it was relieving to Lucille to know she had someone to experience it with. “And I will tell you that the closer you and Noah get, the easier it will get. Trust me. At a certain closeness, it all just snaps into place and you stop needing a reason because you just… get it. I don’t know if I know how to explain it.” She took in a deep breath. “But, that’s a hot mess with Imelda.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucille muttered.

“This requires a drink. Bartender!” Thelma called. 

Lucille turned and hugged Thelma tightly, and she returned the embrace. It was so lovely to have her friend back, and to have her in her corner. They would talk through it together and make the most of it like they always had with everything.