InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 9: Subterfuge ❯ Secrets and Lies ( Chapter 59 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

' Shouldn't we try to stop her?'

Uttering a longsuffering sigh, Evan hesitantly followed Valerie across the living room toward the glass doors that led to the back yard and the pool.  'I just did,' he pointed out, which was rather stupid, in his estimation since his youkai voice was there at the time and therefore ought to have known that he'd already tried to stop her.  'She's got a one track mind,' he pointed out, 'kinda like a pit bull . . . but way hotter . . .'

'I dare you to tell her that you just compared her to a dog.'

'Nice try, ha  ha . . . I'm not nearly that stupid.  V'd chew me up and spit me out and not leave a damn thing for the vultures.'

'Which might be kind of enjoyable, don't you think?'

'. . . Probably.'  Digging his hands deep into the pockets of the faded, ragged, ripped old jeans, he shuffled forward a few steps then quickly darted around her, leaning against the door that she'd just reached for and pasting a wide grin on his face.  "Y'know, V, I was thinking . . ."

"Why do those words in particular send shivers of fear straight down my spine?" she muttered, pinning him with a dark look that only got darker when she noticed his shit-eating grin.

He chuckled.  "Now, now, put the bitch away until you've heard what I have to say," he coaxed.

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest but tapped her foot impatiently.  "I'll show you the bitch, Roka," she warned through clenched teeth.

The chuckle escalated into a round of laughter.  "I can only hope," he teased.

She narrowed her eyes but didn't budge otherwise.

Evan curbed his amusement since she looked like she was pondering new and interesting ways to dispose of dead bodies, preferably his.  "Well, it just so happens that I know someone who might be able to help me out.  I mean, he's been around for an ass' age, so I figure he's probably run across a gypsy at one time or another, right?  Why don't I give him a ring-a-ding, and then you won't have to worry your gorgeous little mind over that contract, hmm?"

Valerie rolled her eyes and uttered a terse 'hrumph'.  "What do you take me for, Roka?  And why are you talking to me like you're some sort of schmaltzy used car salesman?"

"Now, now, baby—" he crooned, unable to stop the grin that resurfaced on his face.

Heaving a sigh, she looked like she was about ready to clobber him.  Why was it that he just couldn't seem to help himself when it came to goading her?  'One of life's little mysteries . . .'

'You're really sick, Evan.  Know that?  Sick.'

He chuckled.

"I am so not your baby.  I'm your attorney."  She drew out the word 'attorney' and emphasized every syllable with the dual-pinched-finger-bob.

"You're a little stressed out today, aren't you?" he asked with a show of concern that she simply wasn't buying. "Tell me what The hEvan can do for you."

The arms crossed over her chest again.  "You can show me that damned contract, rocker-boy."

Evan sighed, seeing no way around it but dreading her reaction since he didn't have to be a brain surgeon to know that she wasn't going to like it in the least.  "I got you; I got you.  No need to be tetchy . . ."

"Tetchy?" she echoed, cocking an eyebrow to underline her question.

He batted his eyes at her.  "Yes, tetchy, as in, touched in the hea—"

The eyes narrowed again.  "You really don't want to finish that, do you?" she warned.

"Nope, nope, I guess I don't," he said despite his grin.

"I didn't think so.  Now out of my way, or I swear on all that's holy, I'll make you rue the day you were born."

"You'd do that?" he countered quietly, enjoying the little game of words more than he probably ought to.

"With a smile on my face," she assured him.

He sighed.  Did it really matter?  Considering she wasn't about to give up, it was only a matter of time before she actually saw the stinking contract, anyway, and there wasn't much he could do about it at this point, even if he wanted to since it was well beyond a done deal.  Pausing a moment to cast her a pleading sort of look, he finally, hesitantly stepped aside and waved a hand in the direction of the door.

She didn't look like she trusted him.  In fact, if he was reading her expression correctly, she was trying to decide whether or not he could be trusted.  He didn't move to block her again, and she opened the door and stepped outside onto the patio.  For the briefest of moments, he considered high-tailing it to the front door and getting the hell out of Dodge, but in the end, he followed her, mostly because he'd missed having her around, and even if she was furious with him, he'd take that, given that the alternative was no V at all.

The rhythmic splashing in the pool drew Valerie's attention, and she stopped, waiting for Violca to finish her lap.  The irritation in her aura spiked, and Evan winced inwardly.  No doubt about it, Valerie really wasn't going to give the girl a chance.  He figured that Violca's proximity to him had already tainted Valerie's opinion, and he hadn't meant to do that.

At least Violca was wearing a swim suit today.  Granted, it was a very skimpy pink string bikini, but at least it was something.  The first couple days after her arrival, Evan had to insist that she wear one when she was outside since she wasn't inclined to put one on.  When he'd heard himself chastising her for her desire to go skinny dipping, he'd very nearly lost his temper since he did want her to wear something but he didn't appreciate that he was starting to sound like some uptight old bastard . . . or like Cain . . .

"Violca . . . Violca!  Come here for a minute, please," he called in German, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the sounds she was making in the pool.

She stood up and instantly smiled at him, only sparing a cursory glance at Valerie as she scrambled out of the pool.

"She has the contract?" Valerie asked under her breath as she leaned slightly toward Evan.

"Uh, well, you could say that," he muttered back.

The girl in question grabbed a fluffy white towel off the nearby chair and hurried over to Evan as she patted herself dry.  "You want me now, yes?" she asked, her eyes bright as she gazed up at him.

"N-No," he replied, unconsciously taking a step back when Violca moved in closer to him.

Valerie cleared her throat very pointedly, drawing Violca's attention at last.  She gave Valerie a very critical once-over and must've decided that Valerie wasn't too bad, because she smiled when she looked at Evan again.  "This is your sister?" she asked hopefully.

"My . . .?  No, she's not," he said, glancing at Valerie.  She looked irritated, likely because she couldn't understand a word that they were saying.  "She's my attorney, and she wants to see the contract."

Violca nodded and smiled, her eyes flashing to Valerie.  "The contract?" she asked.

Valerie reluctantly glanced at Evan.  "What did she say?"

"She asked if you want to see the contract," he told her.

"Would you tell her that I'd like for her to go get it?" Valerie said.

Evan sighed.  "W-Well . . ."

Violca giggled and quickly whipped around, catching the length of her long hair and pulling it neatly over her shoulder.  Valerie's eyes widened then narrowed as a hot wash of color flooded her cheeks when she got a good look at Violca's back—and the contract that had been tattooed onto the girl's skin along with his scrawled signature just above her ass.  Sucking in her breath sharply, Valerie looked like she was about two seconds from committing some form of homicide, though whether Evan or Violca was the intended victim, Evan wasn't sure, and without giving it a second thought, he grasped the girl's shoulders and stepped away from Valerie before the attorney completely lost her cool.

It took her a minute to rein in her shock, and when she finally did, Valerie forced a very tight, very thin smile and opened her mouth but must've realized that Violca didn't understand much English, because she held up one finger to indicate that Violca wait there while she grabbed Evan's arm and dragged him a few feet away.  "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," she gritted out quietly, sparing a glance back Violca.

"I swear to God that there's a good reason for it," Evan said, holding up his hands in a submissive sort of gesture that Valerie summarily ignored.

"I highly doubt it, Roka," she snapped.  "Why the hell is it printed on her back?"

"Because it's not a standard contract," he insisted.  "I told you, right?  If I renege on it, there's a curse involved!"

"Yeah, yeah, parts, parts," she scoffed, waving off his worries with a flick of her delicate hand.  "Like I care if that part of you shrivels up and dies!  You signed her back?"

"Not exactly," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to think of a good way to explain it.  He couldn't, so he tried the next best thing: the truth.  "I thought I was giving her an autograph."

Valerie snorted as her expression grew even more foreboding.  She stood still for several moments then pivoted on her heel and stomped back toward the mansion.

"Where are you going?" Evan called after her.  Irrational fear shot through him: something to do with the all-too-vivid memory of her absence still too fresh in his mind.

Valerie didn't stop moving as she yanked open the door and started to go inside.  "I'm getting a cup of tea before I give in to the urge to kill you," she snapped.

The adrenaline rush that had accompanied the overwhelming fear started to recede, leaving Evan feeling a little light headed and so relieved that he thought that he might well collapse.  It was all right as long as she wasn't leaving, he decided.  Even still, he was loathe to let her out of his sight, and with that in mind, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled off after her . . .


Standing in the middle of Evan's living room with the girl—Evan had introduced her as 'Violca'—beside her, her back facing Evan as though she were a visual aid, and he was sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands dangling limply between, trying to convince her through his actions that he really wasn't at fault for this little misadventure.  Too bad she wasn't buying.

Pointing to the second clause of the contract with the telescoping rod that she'd found in her attaché case, Valerie simply raised an eyebrow at Evan in silent question.

Evan frowned at the girl's back and opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it closed once more when Valerie narrowed her gaze at him.  "I want to know what it really says," she warned since she didn't really trust him to tell her the truth about it.

He nodded like a good little boy and cleared his throat.  "Right, sure," he said, his nodding growing a bit more emphatic, apparently believing that she wasn't going to like whatever he had to say.  "Love to, V, but . . ."

"But?" she echoed when he trailed off, impatiently tapping her foot.

"Bu-u-u-ut," he went on, his voice taking on an unmistakably apologetic kind of reluctance and covering about four octaves in the statement of one, one syllable word, "the . . . bikini . . . is . . . tied . . . over . . . it . . ."

Valerie rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, effectively shifting the pointer at Evan like a fencing sword.  It moved so fast that it whistled in the air before coming to an abrupt stop inches away from his nose.  "Read it anyway, Roka," she barked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied quickly, jerking back just a little when she managed to flick the end of his nose with the tip of the pointer.  "It just says that . . ." He trailed off with a grimace then rubbed his nose when she flicked him again.  "That she will grant me use of her body in return for being under my . . . care . . ."

The pointer fell onto the coffee table then the floor with a loud clatter.  Valerie smashed her hands over her face in an entirely defeated sort of way.  It took her a few minutes to wrap her head around exactly what he'd said, and when she finally did, she let her hands fall away as she pinned Evan with the most formidable glower as she could manage.  He grimaced and shrank back a little, scratching the back of his neck as he gave her a pathetic little shrug.  "Is that right?" she finally asked in a deadly quiet tone.

Sensing her absolute displeasure, Evan stood and stepped over the coffee table to pull Violca to the side.  He said something to her in German, and the girl shot Valerie a nervous little glance, but she nodded at Evan and made for the stairs as quickly as she could go.

"What did you say to her?" Valerie demanded as Violca took the steps, two at a time.

Evan sighed as he slowly turned to face her once more.  "I told her to go get some clothes on," he replied.

"You're telling me that the old gypsy woman gave you her daughter as your own personal sex slave?" she demanded.  "Do you have any idea at all how much trouble you're in?"

"Kind of," he drawled, drawing out the words in an entirely reluctant sort of way, casting her a completely disgruntled sort of scowl.  "V, I didn't—"

"You didn't know," she cut him off, sarcasm thick in her tone.  "You never know!  These things just happen to you, right?  Do you have any idea at all just how fast Judge Lister is going to throw the entire library at you if and when he finds out about this?  You won't be looking at a little jail time; you'll be looking at a hell of a lot of it, and considering Lister hates you already, you'll be lucky if you're not charged with criminal sexual misconduct, too—labeled as a sexual predator—"

"Predator?  I'm harmless!" he insisted.

"Save it for the jury, Roka!  Not to mention the charges for that contract, itself . . ." She rubbed her face in a vain effort to calm her soaring temper.  It didn't work.

"Charges for the contract?" he challenged.  "Why?"

"Because, Einstein," she shot back acerbically, shoving him aside as she snatched up her purse to rifle through it for the Advil that she knew was inside, "it's been illegal for one person to own another in this country for a very, very, very long fucking time!"

"Oh . . . Yeah, that . . ."

Stopping long enough to toss back the pills she'd dumped into her hand, she swallowed hard to force them down and rubbed her forehead furiously.  "I knew you were stupid, but I didn't know you were stupid, and, oh, my God, you're even stupider than stupid has a right to be . . .!" she half-groaned, half-snarled.

Draping his hands on his hips, he snorted indelicately and shook his head.  "So just what are you trying to say, V?" he challenged.

She froze for about five seconds before letting her hands drop as she swung her head to the side to pin him with a fulminating glower.  "I don't care what that so-called contract said, Roka!  If you sleep with that girl, you're going to fry in hell!"  Then she bit her lip as though something else had occurred to her, and she pursed her lips, grinding her teeth together slowly as she regarded him in unabashed suspicion.  "You've already slept with her, haven't you, you man-whore?" she finally asked, her voice deceptively calm.

"I haven't!" he insisted just as his youkai nudged him inwardly.  Expression full of righteous indignation melted away, only to shift into a momentary flash of nervous guilt before he managed to blank his features once more, Evan shrugged.  "Not really, anyway," he muttered under his breath as he turned away.

". . . Not really?" she echoed, her tone taking on that slightly higher, almost screechy quality.  "What does that mean?"

Evan snorted and wrinkled his nose, waving his hands as though the gesture would make her forget what she wanted to know.   "What does it matter?" he countered.  "I can't go back in time and demand that she not wake me up with a blowjob!  And it wasn't my fault, just for the record!"

"How can that not be your fault?"

"I was sleeping!  Sleeping!  How was I supposed to know that she'd figured out how to pick door locks?" he hollered back.

"You're not really going to stand there and make excuses, are you?" she growled, eyes flashing, skin mottled in blotches of pinkish-red and crimson.

"Aw, come on!" he snapped, rounding on her with a thorough scowl that she summarily ignored.

"She can't stay here with you!" Valerie insisted.  It wouldn't have surprised Evan if she'd started stomping her foot, she looked so petulant.  She didn't.

"You think I didn't try to find somewhere else for her to stay?" he shot back.

"Obviously not hard enough!" she retorted.

"Yeah, well, I read what that fucking contract says, didn't I?  I don't have a goddamn choice!"

"Please!  I leave you alone for a few weeks, and you go out of your way to get into as much trouble as you possibly can!"

"Yeah, like you were actually working all that time," he growled.  "I know damn well that you weren't!"

"Shut the hell up, you jackass!  I was busy, working on your case—you remember?  The one that is going to land you in prison for awhile?"

"You spent the week with Mighty Morphin Midget Merrywether, having boring sex and talking about boring stuff and doing boring whatever it is you do, so what's the big deal?"

"What does it matter to you, what we did or didn't do?" she challenged, the air around her fairly crackling as her anger surged higher and hotter.  "And it's Marvin, you ass!  This isn't about us, anyway!"

Evan stopped short as the implications of Valerie's words sank in.  Slowly turning to face her, he shook his head, eyes narrowing as his brain slowed to a crawl then ceased to function, altogether.  Stuck on what she'd said, or at least the meaning behind it all, he opened his mouth and closed it again.  He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, and he flinched as he struggled to blank his features.  "You . . . You did," he said, unable to hide the disbelief, the utter incredulity that he felt.

The painful scarlet flush that exploded on her skin was answer enough, as far as Evan was concerned.  Suddenly, he needed to get the hell out of there, needed to put some distance between himself and her.  Unable to look her in the eye, unable to do much of anything but shake his head in a completely lost sort of way, he felt as though the floor had started to wobble under him, as though someone had reached out with invisible hands: one clenching his gut, the other slowly, slowly choking him . . .

"You're such an ass," she mumbled, but there was something lacking in her voice.  As though all of her anger had been abruptly yanked away from her, she was left with a weariness that spoke volumes.  "I just want to beat on you," she went on, her words completely at odds with the lack of viable emotion behind them.

Evan blinked and forced a small smile as he shoved aside the unwelcome ache that had settled in his gut.  "O-Okay," he said, taking a step toward her, holding his hands up at his sides in a definite show of surrender.

Valerie let out a deep breath and shook her head, raising her fists, thumping them against Evan's chest a few times.  It wasn't hard enough to move him.  It wasn't even hard enough to make a sound.  "What am I going to do with you?" she whispered, lifting her chin, her eyes unnaturally bright as she stared at him, looking for answers to questions that she didn't even realize that she was asking, and he understood.  The somber tilt of her frown, the tightness around her eyes . . . She couldn't tell him anything at all because those things that were eating away at him were the same things that she didn't understand herself.

She wasn't questioning him about Violca anymore, was she?  The questions she was asking were about him—about them, and she was doing what she did best: hiding her own feelings behind something—anything—else so that she didn't have to tell herself the truth, and the thing was, Evan had a feeling that Valerie didn't even realize what she was doing, that she'd been living that way for so long that it had somehow become second nature to her . . .

. . . And in the span of that one fleeting moment, he'd seen something else, too, hadn't he?  Maybe she didn't see it.  Hell, maybe she didn't even know, but he did.  For just a moment, she'd felt guilty, hadn't she?  He didn't know if she felt bad because she'd upset him or if she felt bad for what she'd done over the week with Marvin.  As far as he was concerned, he'd take whatever he could get.