Who: Evie and Benedict Sablier What: Evie done stabbed some dude in the balls Where: Aubade 501 When: Early morning(5 AM-ish)after the fight in the street with Wren
Evangeline was exhausted, she hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. After dropping Wren off at her home Evie felt it was safe to start coming down from whatever adrenaline rush had her disconnecting from the situation at hand. She tried to ignore the fact that her family’s driver had been checking on her in the rear view mirror every ten seconds or so. She trusted him with her life, he was more than just their driver and had been for a long time. But she didn’t want to talk. Not yet.
Before they’d gotten too close to home she’d asked him to take her to Bathos, he didn’t argue and she pretended not to notice the look he shot her in the rear view mirror. She hadn’t meant to stay as long as she did. Just an hour tops, she wanted a change of clothes, but showing up at Sol’s house with blood on her clothes caused a bit of a kerfuffle. He’d let her shower and change into some of his clothes, and then they’d hunkered down for a Very Serious Conversation. She didn’t want him to know what she could do if provoked, she wasn’t ready to take that step in their relationship quite yet, she was terrified it would just bring about more questions. But she didn’t want to lie to him either. She explained it as sensibly as she could, tried to make it sound more like she’d been helping someone else rather than losing her damn mind.
Talking had turned to cuddling, and cuddling had turned to an hour long nap that she awoke from in a panic because it was nearly 5 in the morning. Oh dear. She was in so much trouble. She said her quick goodbye, thanked him profusely, and grabbed the plastic garbage bag her clothes were in and rushed out of the apartment. Once on the street she saw the car, and that their driver had waited for her. He didn’t even look tired.
By the time she was back outside the door to her own apartment she took a deep breath and walked in. The events of the night were weighing heavily on her, her hair was mussed, she was wearing the wrong clothes, and she was carrying a garbage bag full of her ruined clothes. She was exhausted and when she saw her Papa pacing in the foyer she knew that she had worried him. She hated causing him grief more than anything, and her heart sank. It wasn’t even as simple as being out all night getting into mischief, or even falling asleep at Sol’s house. It was all worse, and now she was just going to cause him to fret even more.
As soon as she walked in he’d turned to look at her and she dropped the bag of clothes inside the door and kicked off the slippers she’d absconded with and put her keys on the credenza by the door. She didn’t say anything right away, she didn’t even know where to start. She wasn’t scared of Benedict Sablier like most people were. He’d never hurt her, or even stay angry with her, but she hated that she tended to cause problems every now and again. And this was a Very Big Problem. “Papa I’m sorry,” she said softly and choked back tears. It was safe here, she could cry all she wanted, having the brave face on all night had been more exhausting than she had realized.
Benedict didn’t enjoy situations that angered him, particularly when they involved his daughter. When he got the message from Christopher that he was taking Evie back from the wrong side of town, he had been upset. When he was told that they were making a detour to Bathos, he had been irritated. When the hour ticked by, then the next, then the next, he took to pacing, and drinking, and checking in with his driver every half hour. It didn’t stop until Evie stepped through the door.
He heard the tremor in her voice and immediately went to her, setting down his glass of brandy and crossing the room in two long strides. His arms came around her as his lips brushed her forehead and for a moment the stress of the past few hours was completely forgotten. She was here. She was safe. As he stroked her hair he recalled the sound of her voice, her apology, and pressed another kiss to her hair.
“It is done,” he said quietly, giving her another tight hug. “Whatever has happened is done now.” He still wondered what had transpired but he would wait, for now. And he would hold his breath that whatever had her crying had nothing at all to do with Sol. It had better not.
She wrapped her arms around him tightly, managed a good cry, and tried to believe him when he said it was done. Maybe he was right and it really was done. She was terrified they’d find her, or worse find Wren. Terrified the police would come looking for her. She had to burn her clothes. She needed to keep her Papa out of trouble too. And they both had to be on their best behavior for Valentines Day.
She pulled back a bit and wiped her face with her hand and sighed tiredly. She took a deep breath and picked up her purse and pulled out the knife that Luc had given her that was still covered in dried blood to the handle, and was usually tucked safely somewhere on her person. She held it out flat in her palm toward Benedict, he needed to do something with it, she couldn’t have it right then.
“I hurt someone. Bad.” And she’d do it again. That part didn’t need to be said. It was clear in her words that she certainly didn’t feel badly about hurting someone, but she sure as hell felt bad for letting someone see her that way, felt even worse for letting Sol see her that way, and felt like her world was about to crash if she got caught.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he spied the knife, one he hadn’t seen in a while and now sporting a fresh coat of blood. He took it without question or hesitation, breaking their hug only long enough to set the weapon on an end table. Then he turned them away, not wanting her to lay eyes on it again. It was his to deal with now.
“Who is this someone?” There was only the smallest hint of iciness in his otherwise lazy, conversational tone. She would’ve been the only one to have heard the sharp knife’s edge in his voice. He would deal with this someone too.
She shook her head, she didn’t know anything, or anyone that she’d hurt. She suddenly felt the burden of guilt for that as well, and for someone who took guilt as harshly as she did she decided she would rack her brain until she could figure it out. But for now she didn’t have anything left. She was fighting the urge to retreat back into herself for the rest of the night, but she was trying to fend that off as best she could. That wasn’t how she was supposed to deal with things, and she’d already disappeared enough for one night.
“I don’t know, there were four of them, I only got two of them. One in the stomach and one where it counts, there was another girl with me, she’s okay. We took her home. She held her own too, we need to send her a scarf she looked a little chilly. They were just so...” she made a disgusted face that said everything. “Papa they thought they were being funny, but they got grabby and I just...I probably should have left. But, they weren’t going to let us. I know they weren’t.”
He could practically watch her war with her options, to bury the incident away or deal with it now and hurt because of it. It only made his need to take care of this situation all the more urgent. But as much as he would’ve liked to go back to where Christopher found her and tear nearby apart, his daughter was here and needed something or someone to hold onto. So she would hold onto him for as long as she wanted.
He listened quietly as she told him, frowning and making a mental note at the mention of another girl. The hand petting her hair stilled completely when she said her attackers got grabby and when he looked back at the knife, he grimly noted there wasn’t nearly enough blood on it for anyone’s satisfaction, especially not his. “Everything has consequences,” he reminded her gently, as if they were talking about her breaking a vase, not breaking bone. “If they chose to behave in such a manner then they need to understand that they can be paid in kind. It is not easy, and should never feel so, but it is necessary sometimes.” It was a simple, dark truth, that he had held dear for most of his long life.
Evie knew what he was saying, she’d been raised on that philosophy, some might not agree with it, but it was all she knew. And she was comfortable with it. She leaned her head against his chest and held on tightly and nodded a bit. He made sense, he always made sense. He was silly sometimes, but she knew that he always had her best interest at heart and he wouldn’t steer her in the wrong direction. “Am I going to go to jail?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he replied simply and absolutely. “It was self defense, darling. Your actions were completely justified.” This was how he saw the matter, even if he suspected that she did a number on the men that others would deem too much. That didn’t matter. They made the first move. His daughter simply paid them in kind. “I’ll see to it that none of this will ever bother you again.” Benedict had ways of fixing these sorts of little legalities. One was money. Many were not.
He pressed another kiss to her hair before tilting her head up, thumb brushing across the edges of her eyes to wipe any lingering tears. “You should rest.” A quick beat before he added, “Or eat.” Battles of any sort tended to end with either of those reactions from her.
She had no reason not to believe him, even if she was well aware of how these things worked, she knew that he would take care of anything left over to be taken care of. “I’m sorry I was out all night,” she knew he couldn’t possibly be angry, but she wanted him to know how much she appreciated him and trusted him. “Solomon’s house was closer, I just wanted to get out of those clothes,” she said nodding toward the bag. “You can burn those.”
She should rest, and eat. But mostly rest. She had a date in just a handful of hours. “Tassle and me are sleeping in your room,” she stated simply and hugged him again. “I love you, Papa.”
He nodded, this night and it’s secrets would only be a memory. Every trace of it would be disposed of. He’d make sure of it.
“I love you too.” Another kiss to her temple and then he urged her toward his wing. He wished that she had come straight away. He wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. But what was done was done. The insult was paid in blood and that would have to do for now.