Looking Glass (reposted)

Chapter Eleven


Joey still had the same car, an old pinto with a mismatched orange hood. She wondered how many more spots of questionable origin marred the brown interior, and if it still smelled like old vinyl, cheap rum, and the spray breath freshener he always used to keep in the glove compartment. As they closed in on it, she noted that the seats had been refurbished with fake cowhide seat covers. In a leering parody of chivalry, Joey opened the passenger-side door for Deirdre and, after shoving her inside, slammed the door. Apparently, the new seat covers couldn’t cover the old sickly-sweet smell of depravity, after all.

“Jesus, I said I would come without a fuss,” she grumbled as he crossed to the driver’s side. She took advantage of the moment alone to try to grab all her composure to her to get her through this. It had been some years since she had needed to find that quiet place where she couldn’t see or hear him hitting her mama. She was sure that if she could just get to that place again, she would be able to go through with this.

She had no hope that Joey would actually leave her alone if she did what he wanted her to do tonight. But it would buy her some time. She would hop on a bus somewhere, and hopefully he would follow her, or at least leave Noah alone. And she didn’t even want to think about what might happen if Joey got a hold of Thomas. No, she would do what she had to so that she could leave. She had been foolish to think that she could ignore the incident a few weeks ago.

Her thoughts were disrupted when he opened the door and slid in beside her.

“Why are you here, Joey? You couldn’t have spent the last five years looking for me. I don’t have anything you want,” she said, stalling. As soon as he put the car into gear, she wouldn’t have a choice anymore. She just needed a minute to convince herself that this was the right thing to do.
“Saw your picture in the paper, girly, with that old painter you hooked yourself up with. Said you were going to college in Chicago. College, damn. Getting all educated doesn’t mean you’re not the whore of the man who’s paying for it, though. You a slut just like your mama.”

Shit, Deirdre thought. He knew about Thomas. Thank god he was out of the country, beyond Joey’s reach. Relief provided the portal to the mental quietude she’d been striving for, and she relaxed back into her seat. Somehow, this would be okay.

Joey put the key in the ignition.

************************************************************************

That’s not Leon, Noah thought dimly when he saw her leave the building. His thoughts sharpened from their account-induced haze as jealousy roared through him. Who the fuck was so important that she would leave Buffy? He was handsome, noted Noah. If she thought she was going to leave with that guy, she had another thing coming. He sprinted for the stairs, determined to make it before she left with that man.

Out of breath, he pushed through the front door just as the man started the ignition. He tapped Deirdre’s window. Did she look nervous as she rolled it down? Wise of her.

“Deirdre. You didn’t introduce me to your friend,” he ground out. The man beside her grinned.

“Noah, it’s not a big deal, ‘kay? I’ll be home soon. I just gotta, uh, do some stuff first,” she said calmly.

“No, no, Dee, don’t be shy. Hi, there,” he said to Noah, leaning over Deirdre and extending his hand out the open window. “I’m Joey. You must be Noah. Dee’s told me all about you.”

Noah shook the man’s hand, his hard grip betraying his agitation. “Pleasure,” he said distractedly. “Sorry, uh, Joey? But Deirdre can’t leave right now. She’s forgotten about a meeting with one of her professors this evening about showing some stuff in the school gallery. Deirdre, you’ll have to do your stuff later,” he said, and pulled her back out of the car and into the building.

Deirdre said nothing as he dragged her back up to the apartment and into the living room.

“Where the hell do you think you were going?” Noah asked, his voice low.

She said nothing, her eyes fixed on the television. Buffy was still on, and Noah slapped at the remote to turn the power off. She still stared at the now-black screen. He grabbed her chin and roughly forced her to face him.

“Did you hear what I said to you? Or are you deaf as well as stupid?”

“I heard you,” she said very quietly. “I was going to take care of some things. I would have been back soon.”

“Without telling me where you were going, or who you were going with? Did it ever occur to your little brain that I might have been worried? No, you were too selfish to think about that, weren’t you?” When she remained silent, looking down at her hands in her lap, Noah tossed her the remote and headed for the door.

“Fine, watch your fucking T.V. show.”

As he walked back up to the roof to retrieve his things, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t overreacted a bit. She wasn’t officially his girlfriend, so he guessed he didn’t really have the right to question her whereabouts. Or get jealous of every good-looking man she spent time with. Well, he was sure she was going to be angry and throw more things at him, but once she had calmed down, he could rectify this pretty easily, he thought. Just ask her to be his girlfriend, and then he would have the right to be pissed. And then they could have great make-up sex.

The T.V. was still off when he returned.

“Deirdre?” he called nervously. God, he hoped he hadn’t made her cry. Then he really would be obligated to feel like an ass. He checked the bathroom to be sure that she wasn’t in there bawling her poor eyes out, but then noticed that her bedroom light was on. She wasn’t there, though. Dread sitting like a rock in his stomach, he rushed back to the living room. Her purse was gone. The keys he had given her to the apartment were not.