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CHAPTER SIX: HIDDEN CLAUSE - PART TWO
Azel raised an eyebrow at the delivery guy standing on his stoop with a crimson-colored box wrapped with a fancy gold ribbon. Did they deliver jewelry now? And why would they do it to him? Azel shook his head. “That’s not mine; sorry,” he said as he started to shut the door.
“Azel Brimm?” The guy’s voice barely wavered, despite the nervous look in his eyes.
More than his name, that made Azel pause and give the guy his attention. “That’s me, but I didn’t order that.” Whatever it even was.
“Order says it’s yours. Already paid for.” The flustered guy shrugged, before digging in his pocket. “Oh yeah, it came with a card.” He handed Azel a gold envelope with his name typed neatly on the front. Fancy, indeed. Azel opened the card and read the typed note.
Azel,
After last weekend, I just wanted you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you and the way you make me feel! Got these special for you. Hope you think of me while you eat them!
Harri
Harri got this for him? After a couple of days of radio silence, this was how she reached out? Well, she did like buying him things, especially food. But the note sounded… off. Didn’t quite sound like her. After last weekend? Did she mean their fight? The way he made her feel? What the hell did that mean?
Grabbing the box from the delivery guy, he inspected the thing like it might explode or something. Untying the bow and lifting the cover, he saw a row of ornate chocolate truffles. Expensive candy from some high-end chocolatier as communication? Yeah, that sounded like Harri.
“Never had to take a delivery to two different places before.”
Azel looked at him curiously. “Two places?”
The guy nodded awkwardly. “Picked it up at the store and brought it to the sender first before finally delivering it here.”
That sounded weird. Why would Harri do that?
“Guess if I’d spent that much on chocolate, I’d want to inspect it first too.” The guy shrugged.
Azel supposed that sounded like something Harri would do. He nodded to the guy. “The app cover the tip too?”
The guy looked surprised. “Nah, but I get a cut of the delivery fee.”
“Hold up,” Azel said, reaching for his wallet. “I got some cash.” He pulled out a few bills. “Here.”
“Dude!” The guy grabbed the money. “Thanks!”
Azel nodded. He’d worked a delivery job once, back when he thought he could afford a car. It wasn’t easy trying to make the pay and the costs of the job — gas, car maintenance, insurance, stiffed orders — balance out. Sometimes tips had been the only thing barely keeping him in the black. Figured minimum-wagers like them owed it to themselves to look out for each other.
He studied the chocolates, tucked away in their swanky package, and headed back inside. Maybe this, like with her offering to get him dinner after their fight, was her way of apologizing or making up. But then why not say that in the card?
He supposed Harri tended to have trouble expressing herself at times. She often preferred to say the things she knew others wanted to hear, rather than what she truly thought. Was that what this was?
Not knowing what to make of any of this, he sat down on his couch. Right where she’d spent the night, wrapped up in his blanket. Where she’d spent the morning happily working away in her own little, productive world. Where she’d freaked out over that jerk’s passive-aggressive post. Where she’d found the courage to delete it and claim back a bit of her control.
Where he’d thrown her phone after calling that window-spying weirdo out. Where she’d yelled at him for doing that. Where she’d reminded him that he was just a job to her, an employee. Where he realized that whatever feelings he was harboring for her — which he didn’t even really understand — she wasn’t. She knew exactly what she wanted from him and it wasn’t… well, him.
Which was fine. That was what they’d agreed on. He stared at the pile of papers he’d placed the box of chocolates on.
Relationship Contract Between Harriet Cathrine Wren and Azel Brimm
He stared at the words until they blurred before him. That was right. They were nothing but a contract. Just one more deal in a lifetime built on them. He’d let himself get too close. He’d tricked himself into thinking it was safe to care about her because, for the first time for any of his clients, she wouldn’t be damned because of him.
He had to remember that didn’t make them friends, much less anything more. She was his client. And he was… the help. Nothing more.
Taking a steadying, steeling breath, he snatched up one of the truffles. Frivolous, fussy thing. The bougie boutique’s box of six specialty truffles probably could have paid for his groceries for the week. Bitterly, he crumpled the glitzy card, shoving it into his pocket, before popping the ostentatious sweet into his mouth.
Fuck, it was good. Probably the best thing he’d eat for a while. He let the perfectly tempered chocolate decadently melt and swirl over his tongue. The only thing ruining the lavish pleasure was knowing he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. This chocolate, like Harri herself, was too damned good for him. Too fine and high-tier for the likes of him. He was gutter trash from literal Hell who could only get his grubby hands on something this grand because of her.
The thought churned his stomach.
Or so he thought. Until the guilty, self-deprecating twinge turned into something sharp and hot. Gripping his gut, he raced toward the bathroom before falling to his knees in front of his toilet. In a series of tearing retches, he emptied his stomach into the waiting bowl.
By the time he was done, he felt lightheaded and weak, resting his head against the cold porcelain. What the hell? He fumbled to flush the toilet, wearily watching the mess swirl down the drain. He knew this feeling.
Like he’d told Harri, demons were made to survive unlivable conditions. It took a lot to hurt or damage someone like him. And he knew that piercing pain. Had felt it once before.
Back before the amnesty agreement, he’d been on the verge of closing a deal with a man who’d summoned him to cheat on his wife. It’d been almost too easy of a job; Azel really should have been more suspicious. Cheaters, no matter how faithful or pious, didn’t summon demons simply to cheat. Even for gay men during the most prejudiced and persecuted times, there were easier ways to get the kind of sex and affection they wanted. Yet, Azel had been young, cocky.
He regretted, in the moment right before the man was about to sign his soul away, agreeing to the celebratory toast the man proposed. Azel had choked on the blessed wine. Almost died as the undercover priest chanted prayers over his curled-up, convulsing body.
Azel clenched his jaw and forced himself to his feet. Gripping furniture for balance, he slowly and unsteadily made his way back to his couch. Flopping onto the cushions, he grabbed the box and examined the contents carefully.
A slight sheen coated each candy. Azel had just thought that was from the high quality, perfectly treated chocolate. But, this close, he could smell the slight piney scent of holy oil. Someone had blessed or annointed these before delivering them.
“Never had to take a delivery to two different places before,” the delivery guy had said. “Picked it up at the store and brought it to the sender first before finally delivering it here.”
Grinding his teeth together, he dug the crumpled note from his pocket and glared at it.
Hope you think of me while you eat them!
He’d been poisoned. Been tricked. Again.
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