Chapter 9: Chapter Eight

The ping pong ball that was Darren bounced into Rafinesque Place…no, that’s wrong…trudged into Rafinesque Place. Hell, he felt like he had just finished doing a two-hour-long show. Exhausted. It was mental and emotional exhaustion that affected his body. How was he supposed to perform at Raw with the damn king always peering over his shoulder hoping to get a piece of his ass? Honestly, Darren didn’t even see himself as being extremely attractive and was confused as fucking ever at the responses he got.

Anyway, Darren entered the basement of the apartment complex and was trying to decide which of his Dorothy Secret bubble baths he was going to use to soak in. It was between Blackberry Forest and Daisy Tart. He smiled thinking about how Blackberry Forest used to drive Daniel crazy leading him to hammer his ass all night. Darren shook his head. That was out. He didn’t need Daniel dragging his drunk ass to bed and trying to hump him with a drunk dick while blood wine drool ran out of his mouth. Ewww…

The sound of laughter and merriment rang from Hema, but that’s not what made Darren stop. It was the voice that trickled through. Looking through the entrance of the bar, he saw Daniel sitting on a stool with a group of people surrounding him. He had a bottle of blood wine in one hand and a glass in the other. He was of course drunk as hell as he tittered on his bar stool and his eyes were glazed over, but what pissed Darren off was that he was smiling and laughing. Not only him, but everybody gathered around him had a goddamned smile on their face and a drink in their hands. Vampires with their slaves and belle and beau sangs who worked there were having the time of their life.

The longer Darren stood there the more pissed off he got. He hadn’t even noticed that he had balled his hands into fists and that his naturally sharp vampire nails were digging into his flesh. Blood squeezed through his fingers and dripped onto the ground, and his eyebrows were so furrowed that they were damn near forming a unibrow.

So, Daniel really wasn’t an abusive alcoholic at all. It was just Darren that he directed all his animosity at. Stepping back, Darren closed his eyelids over his aching eyes that were damn near bulging out of their sockets. He couldn’t take it. Not now. How could someone treat strangers better than the person they were supposed to love and with everything they had been through? Darren was his whipping boy.

“I can’t…” Darren said in a shaky voice as he lifted his hand to his mouth. His whole form shook and giving his head a shake, he hurried from the basement leaving the howls of delight behind him. Rushing up the stairs and into the lobby, he approached the reception desk. “I need a car,” he said in a rush.

The servant looked at Darren with a quizzical expression. His eyes shifted to his hands on the counter, bleeding and shaking with the tips of his fingers tapping on the wood.

“Right away, sir,” the servant responded. “Would you like something for your hands in the meantime?”

“What?” Darren’s eyes dropped to his hands and noticing the blood for the first time he turned them over to examine his palms. The wounds were already closing but yes, the blood was causing a mess. “A towel please?” He sincerely hoped the servant had a towel or cloth so he wouldn’t have to go all the way to the fifty-third floor.

“Right away, sir.” The servant disappeared to the back room and promptly returned with two cloths. After handing them to Darren he jumped on the computer and began the process of summoning a ride for him.

After wrapping the cloths around his hands, Darren pressed them together aiding in stopping the blood flow.

“Would you like a driver to bring you and Mr. Jones’ car around?” the servant asked.

“No!” Darren answered loudly.

The servant stared at him for a moment then nodded. “All right, sir. What type of vehicle do you wish to be chauffeured in?”

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“Just a car.”

“Yes, sir.” After the servant typed something into the computer, he made a call. Ending the call, he addressed Darren. “A driver is pulling the car around. A Lincoln Continental. The new model in a classy black finish.”

“Thank you.” Darren nodded.

“If you will make yourself comfortable, I will alert you when the car pulls around.”

Without another word, Darren left the servant and settled on one of the red round sofas. He held one hand in the other and used his thumb to press against the wound on his palm. He could still hear Daniel and his friends. Not as clear as when he was in the basement, but he could make out that he was buying them all another round…with their money. Fucking joint bank account.

Darren just needed to get out of Rafinesque Place. He didn’t know where he was going but one thing was for sure, he was sick of running. This whole day had been nothing but tail tucking. What else could he do? He was nothing. A child vampire. It was said that vampires didn’t have souls, but something inside of him hurt. This pain, this sorrow, this gloom…He needed to scream…He wanted to scream…He needed a release…

“Sir, your ride has arrived.” The servant was standing beside Darren.

“Thank you.” Darren stood and rushed toward the exit. He skipped the revolving door and left out an exit on the side. The cool night enveloped him. When was the last time he had been outside?

Waiting for Darren at the car was a driver dressed just like the other servants in the complex. He opened the door for Darren and closed it behind him. “Where to, sir?” the driver asked once seated behind the wheel.

Now that was a damn good question. Looking out the window toward the street at the rushing traffic, Darren wondered how many people were doing the same damn thing he was doing. Rushing away from their abuser. Damn…He was his mother.

“Just drive,” Darren ordered.

“Yes, sir.” The driver pulled the car away from the curb and cruised down the street.

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