The Cellar Ch. 02

"Please!" she yowled as his expanded girth tore at her walls. "You're hurting me! Please stop! Lucien!"

His response was immediate and the carnage mounted. Screaming was obviously the wrong tactic. With all the force she could muster, Joelle wrapped around his body and offered the tender caress of her hand against his cheek.

"Lucien," she whispered, her voice soothing and tranquil, "please stop."

Within an instant Lucien withdrew and collapsed against her body, everything seeming to return to its normal state within the span of a few labored breaths.

"My apologies," he muttered as pulled from the bed, leaving her trembling and afraid as yanked open the door.

For a moment, he stood staring at her as the light from the hallway spilled across the room, and then he rushed, crestfallen, down the hall.

***

Lucien roared as he paced the cellar in his home, finally slumping into his chair. After endless hours of deliberation the decision was made.

There could never be anything between them. He should never have allowed Joelle to believe that there could. Generally, he didn't concern himself with the trivialities of right and wrong. Not until they infiltrated his existence, and that's precisely what Joelle had done, infiltrated.

That was it, it was time to end the charade. Joelle had to go and she could never return. They each needed to resume the lives they were intended to have, separately.

For the last several months he had completely shirked off all obligations to dabble in the world of a strange creature he could neither have, nor care for.

Whatever his feelings, whatever his desires, he could not be bound to her and he could offer to her no semblance of a future.

Joelle sat alone in his bedroom and wondered whether or not Lucien would be a no-show. Since their minor "bump" the previous evening, she had neither seen nor heard from him. Certainly he was there, no doubt lurking about in the bowels of the house. In all likelihood he was engaged in some internal war. So she would wait and hope that when he returned all would be forgotten.

At a quarter past one, there was a knock at the door and Joelle scrambled across the bed, pulled off his robe and slid naked beneath the sheets.

"Come in!" she hollered, cocking her head as she realized how odd it was to be welcoming someone into their own room.

She watched as Lucien crossed the room and came to a stop, just feet from the bed. His face was a twisted mass of painful conflict and she knew that whatever came from his mouth, would be agonizing.

"Get dressed," he demanded coldly.

"Why? What's going on?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Just get dressed, I will meet you at the car. You have five minutes."

Joelle saw the absolute resolve in his face; it was present in the deadness of his eyes and the tightness of his jaw.

She gathered her things, pulled on her clothes and met him at the car.

"Where are we going," she inquired faintly.

"Get in the car Joelle," angrily he commanded.

No sooner had the door closed behind her, than Lucien was peeling from the driveway, his eyes focused on the road.

They sat in silence as Lucien sped down the interstate toward the city. She had tried to talk to him but it only resulted in loud barks and painful words.

Nervously she rolled and unrolled the hem of her shorts, pleading silently for a change in direction.

"No, Lucien. Please, no," she begged as they pulled onto the exit, five blocks from her apartment.

But her beseeching words only hastened his speed and by the time the car skidded to a stop outside her apartment building, he was seething.

"You say you never had a chance to say goodbye, I am now giving you that opportunity," he yelled, with a voice as sharp as the blade of sword.

"No. I don't understand, Lucien – I don't understand. What did I do?" desperately she implored him to answer.

"Nothing. I no longer desire you," he said dispassionately.

Lucien watched as tears pooled in her blue eyes, liquefying them, before charging over her lashes and claiming her cheeks. It twisted his gut and produced a stabbing pain in his head he could not temper.

"You don't mean that," she squeaked as her heart jackknifed inside her chest.

"Get out of the car Joelle!" he roared.

"But I..."

"Now Joelle, get out of the fucking car!" Lucien reached across the seat and shoved open her door, revving the engine and turning on the radio as she stared back at him with broken eyes.

"Can't you tell me why?" she pleaded.

"Because you're a junkie fucking whore!"

When her voice came, it was a mere shadow of a whisper, "okay."

Joelle pulled the bag from between her feet and unbuckled her belt. She hesitated for just a moment, seeking his eyes for some sign of reversion or doubt, but his expression remained fixed in agitation.

Joelle slipped her hand into her pocketbook and withdrew a small leather box, nervously rolling it between her hands.

"My dad used to have this shiny gold watch. I loved it, and when I was little he used to let me play with it for hours, never concerned that I might break it..."

Forcefully, Lucien interrupted, "I don't care to hear your sob story Joelle, get out of the fucking car!"

"Before he died he gave it to me, he said he had it engraved, but I've never been able to look. Anyway, I want you to have it," her voice trembled through maudlin tears.

"I don't wish to have it," he snapped.

"I know." Joelle opened the glove compartment and slipped the box inside, closing it gently.

"Why then?" he demanded.

Joelle slid from the car and closed the door, turning to rest her arm on the sill of the open window. With a rub of her hands, she wiped the tears from her eyes and offered him a genuine smile. "Because you saved my life."

** I will attempt to post Chapter Three within the week. Thank you to all who have read and enjoyed the continuing saga of Joelle and Lucien. **