4. Blakely
“You’re here,”my twin says, her voice cracking with emotion as she wipes away tears.
We decided not to book a hotel for our stay, but after yesterday’s trial, I needed some time alone to gather my thoughts.
Seeing him brought memories I adore and want to forget at the same time. His mere presence sent my heart into a wild frenzy.
He is different. His eyes lost their softness and now hold a hardened look, while the new tattoos on his neck and hands are impossible to miss.
“I told you over the phone I’d be coming back for a few days.” My voice trembles with emotion.
“Yeah, but knowing it and actually seeing you are two completely different things.” God, I missed her.
She comes to see me in Paris as much as her job and days off allow her, but it’s not enough. I had to learn to live without my other half, but I forgot she had to do the same.
God, have I been selfish to leave like that?People would say it’s not healthy to be like that with their siblings, but none of them share a twin bond. Because of our high IQ and the fact that we skipped grades, people were either older or bullied us because we were different.
While we both studied in England, I started law school at the age of fifteen and managed to complete my studies and graduate by the time I turned eighteen. On the other hand, Bailey began medical school at fifteen and graduated at nineteen.
And it was the best thing that ever happened to us. It has always been us against everyone. My brother was our rock when we came back home from school, sobbing from the bullying we faced. But he is 10 years older and was away most of the time because of the military. He still is, and even though we’re close to him, the relationship is not the same.
“I missed you too, Peanut,” I say, using the nickname Aidan gave her when she was younger. She was fascinated with peanuts and feeding elephants. I know she loathes the nickname, but I can feel a lump in my throat, and I don’t want to ruin the moment.
“So, what’s new with you since the last time I saw you?” I raise my eyebrow. She’s playing with her bracelet. I know she’s hiding something.
“Oh, nothing new. You know,” she answers, lifting her shoulders, “the hospital takes most of my time.”
“Sooo, no man on the horizon?” At the sound of my question, her face flushes with embarrassment. I KNEW IT.
“Baby sis?” I tease her.
“Don’t baby sis me, for fuck’s sake. You were born literally one minute before me,” she fires back.
“Still counts, though. Now, answer the question. And do not lie to me. Your cheeks turned the same shade as the bright red lipstick I have on.” She sighs, sounding heavy with resignation, knowing that I won’t let it go. She’s seeing someone, and I’m determined to know who and why she didn’t say anything about it.
“Fine. I’m seeing this guy from work. It’s nothing serious. He just got divorced, and we’re just having some fun,” she explains.
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me you’re having a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship with him? You? The lover of love?” I’m speechless.
My sister had one relationship after Jay, and it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. I know she’s been hurt like I’ve been. But knowing she’s literally having several one-night stands with the same guy surprises me. Aye, because it’s several one-night stands for me if there’s no romantic relationship.
“Shut up. Aye, I am, and so what? Everybody needs relief sometimes, and he’s not unpleasant to the eyes. You should try it. Some guys can do this thing with their tongue —” I cut her off, not wanting to hear about any guy’s tongue tricks.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything. I’m glad you’re happy, that’s all.” A smile forms on my lips. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to wait to meet him? That’s a legit question. Don’t give me that look.” My grin grows wider, knowing full well that she is itching to punch me.
Before Emilie comes into view, I hear her shouts. “Let’s gooo bitchesss. Get your pretty arses dressed up. We’re going out tonight!” Her eyes dart back and forth between us, searching for any sign of a reaction to her outburst. “Hush, don’t give me that look. We’re going out whether you like it or not. We’ve been working our arses off for days now on ‘You-Know-Who’s’ case, and before that, it has been nonstop.” Her references to Harry Potter in any situation amaze me each time. “Plus,” she adds, “you can’t deprive me of men in kilts. I want to know for myself if the legend is true.”
“Wait, what legend are you talking about?” I ask.
Bailey laughs under her breath.
My question is apparently funny, but I still have no clue what she’s talking about.
“Blake,” my sister says like I”m five years old. “You know THE legend.” Now it’s Emilie’s turn to laugh. “I know you’ve been away for years now, but c’mon. Men. Kilt. She wants to know if they wear underwear beneath their kilts or if they’re completely naked,” she adds.
“Oooh, okay, now I feel dumb. But at the same time, what you said wasn’t clear.” I pout like a kid.
“Clear enough for me,” Em says. “Now, hop hop. I want you to put on your sexiest outfits. Bailey, do you have any alcohol in here?”
“There”s vodka and tequila under the sink.” Emilie’s eyes widen, followed by a dramatic gasp at Bailey’s response.
“You criminal,” she says to Bailey. “Who puts alcohol under a sink? Don’t worry, baby. Tata Emilie is here to rescue you.” She lifts the bottle into her arms. My laughter is so intense that tears stream down my face, and Bailey clutches her sides in amusement.
“Did you really need to call yourself auntie while talking to the alcohol?” I ask, still amused.
“I swear, you French people have a problem with alcohol,” jokes Bailey.
“And you haven’t seen her with her wine yet,” I add.
“I can hear you both, smartass. Now, go get ready while Mama prepares shots,” she says, pushing us towards the bedrooms. And like the obedient soldiers that we are, we go get ready even if my want to chill is stronger tonight. But Emilie deserves a good night of fun after the crazy months we’ve had.
We arrive at the Dust Club around 11 p.m. The music is thumping through the door, already vibrating through my body. We pass the security with no issues. I guess being three young women does the trick. This place is new to me, and even though I wasn’t a party girl before, it looks like a fresh new building.
The smell of alcohol fills my nostrils once we’re inside. The music dominates the room, and the beautifully crafted decor catches my eye, making this club stand out from the few others I have visited. A lounge is on the right, with dark, velvety sofas and round tables in the middle. The bar counter is classy with dark marble on the top and what I guess are dark green velvet bar stools. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying their time. This is exactly the kind of atmosphere I would opt for if I had a nightclub, and the colours are exactly what I would have picked for my own house.
Deep green. Like… Nope, I’m not going there.
It’s weird to say, but it feels… safe.
Someone is pushing me, and I hear a muffled ‘Sorry’ when Emilie takes me by the arm and tries to speak in my ear over the music.
“Let’s go find a place to sit. Or we can go to the bar. This bartender is yummy.”
I chuckle. We head towards the bar when the bartender notices us. No need to try to have his attention now, I guess. Emilie put on her provocative ‘fuck me’ eyes, and that works like a charm. Each. Time.
“What can I get for you ladies?” he asks, his gaze fixed on Emilie.
“Ladies, uh. I like that,” she coos.
“I’ll have a gin and lemonade with a slice of lime, please,” says Bailey.
“What kind of blended whisky do you have?” He looks at me like I’m from another planet.
“A woman who likes whisky,” he says with admiration, “is a woman who’s not afraid to break some hearts.” His smile is bright. “But to answer your question, I have Monkey Shoulder, JB, Clansmen, the Famous Grouse —” I stop him.
“I’ll take the Famous Grouse, please.” He nods, and I add, “Without ice.” He turns towards Emilie.
“And for you, beautiful?” The tension between them is ridiculous, seriously. She’ll probably bang him in the back room and forget about him tomorrow, knowing her.
“I’ll have a Cape Cod, please.” She glances in our direction as though she can sense our eyes fixed upon her. “What? It’s a classic. You can never go wrong with a cranberry vodka.”
I can’t help but shake my head in amusement as we take the newly vacant seats around the bar. The drinks come quickly, and I sigh as I take my first sip. Which earns me a disapproving look.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You drank,” says Bailey accusingly, as if it was enough for me to understand. She elaborates. “What about our toast?” I shake my head.
“Seriously, Bai? You’ve been too accustomed to the French culture.” My tone is tinged with amusement rather than annoyance. “Okay, let’s do it. What are we toasting to?” I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“To your return!” Bailey shouts, lifting her glass.
“To getting laid,” adds Emilie, with her drink already in the air, waiting for me to finish.
I lift my glass and add, “To family.”
“Slàinte Mhath!” We shout in unison.
Despite my initial reticence, going out tonight was definitely the right decision. I forgot how it was to be 26 years old. And it feels really good.
We order a second drink and catch up. I am not a light drinker, but I feel good. Relaxed. The music gets louder, and I already anticipate covering my ears when the DJ plays ‘Get Low’ by Lil Jon and The East Side Boyz.
“OH MY GOOOD!” yells Em, standing from her stool. “GIRLLLLS, I love this song. We need to go to the dance floor.” I exchange a look with Bailey, already knowing it’s no use for us to refuse.
I’ve known Emilie for a while now, and her love for this music has been unwavering since day one.
Together, we make our way towards the dance floor, the sound of the music getting louder. I move to the beat, lifting my arms above my head. I sense the weight of stares on me, but I keep moving, my hips following the flow of the music. Closing my eyes, I let the beats flow in my veins, guiding my steps. A few songs have already played when I open my eyes to see Bailey standing with someone I don’t recognise, presumably one of her friends, and she seems to be engrossed in their conversation. As for Emilie, she has her tongue deep inside a guy’s throat, not far from me.
The feeling of being observed comes back, stronger this time, as if invisible eyes are branding my back.
I look around me but see nothing. My job has made me aware of my surroundings, and I always listen to my gut.
It’s probably the alcohol and the slutty dress Emilie made you wear. Stop being paranoid.
A new song starts, and I’m swept away by the feeling of warm hands wrapped around my curvy waist. I feel his head fall onto the top of mine and his warm breath tickling my ear. He’s a bit taller than me but shorter than the average guy around us, which is not much, knowing that I’m at the limit of 5’.
It’s slow, not in rhythm with the music,but I don’t care.I rarely let strangers near me, let alone put their hands on me. I mean, they usually end up at the hospital if they do that without notice.
What can I say?I’ve learned the hard way. But it’s nice to let go for once.
I can feel his warm, alcohol-laced breath on my cheek as he speaks.
“You wanna get out of here, beautiful?” His words are slurs by the alcohol. I turn to face him. He’s cute. If you like the blondie type of guy with dark eyes and built like he drinks helium instead of milk for breakfast. I’m sure he’s the type of guy a lot of women would want tonight, but I’m more of the green-eyed type of girl.
The memory of Aidan’s piercing forest-green eyes floods my mind for the second time tonight.
Ugh, what’s my problem? He hurt you, remember? One look at him and a tornado of feelings comes crashing over me.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m here with my girls tonight,” I reply.
“You sure? I have no doubt I can give you exactly what you’re looking for.” He raises his eyebrows in an attempt to be seductive. Yeah, he’s not my type at all.
“Thanks again, but I’m good.” I smile at him, hoping that will do the trick.
He smiles back. “Alright. If you change your mind, I’ll be over there,” he says, pointing his finger towards a table with people I assume are his friends.
“Noted,” I add, and he walks off. Okay, he took that better than I expected. The girls join me and start to speak at the same time.
“Damn, Mama,” says Em.
“Who was he? He looks like he would suffocate you in bed.” Bai has a way of adding humour to any situation.
“No idea, lasses. Just a guy. I politely declined his offer to leave with him.”
“As you should. I don’t want the police to call me in the middle of the night because they found a naked woman dead by suffocation. Unless it’s your thing. I don’t judge. But I would rather have my sister alive, thank you very much,” Bailey says seriously. I can’t help but laugh loudly at her absurdity as we go back dancing.
The music changes, and we stay on the dance floor for a few more songs before rejoining our seats.