2020-11-03 - Shadows of the Past

It's lunchtime. Lilith complained to Byron in texts that she hadn't shopped for the loft in ages, and she can't find anything to eat... complete with sadface emoji. That said, she was prepared to eat peanut butter and saltines and call in the major food groups of carbs, sugar, and protein for a well-rounded fix. In fact, that's what she's preparing to do about thirty minutes later on lunch break from the shop after her complaint to Byron. The white shepherd dog they've recently adopted into their lives is in the upstairs loft with the woman eating his lunch too.

"Sloooow down, Sirius. You're going to choke and die and then I have to tell Byron he wasted a lot of money on a moron dog."

The brunette woman chides the dog while reaching up into the cabinets for the crackers and peanut butter. She's barefoot and has to stretch some, prettily dressed in semi-casual long white skirt and dark clinging sweater top, perfect contrast and autumn appropriate, decorated by the occasional sparkle of her gifted and engagement diamonds. Once she has the rooted for groceries down, though, her phone rings. Sighing exasperation, Lilith turns to the kitchen bar counter to look at the number, then squints at the Miami area code, as if trying to place the number as semi-familiar. She's hesitant to answer a few moments, but decides 'fuck it' and does.

"Hello?"

"Girrrl! Why am I hearing all about your business from other people instead of your high and mighty, lily white ass?"

"Holy shit, Chantal?"

"Mmhm, how many other black friends you got, snowflake?"

"Uh, you're half Puerto-Rican. And Laurent is kind of black. Shut up. Hi. I thought you changed your number too, I tried to save it when I changed mine with the move... but it kept saying it was turned off, so you know. Life happened."

"You just didn't try hard enough, sunshine, I'm easy to find on the net. But you ain't wrong, I'm just pickin' on you. It was off the radar a while. I rotated back to this number to clear out some drama-llamas. You know how these men be doing sometimes."

"Yeah. I do."

There's a pause that's kind of thick from Lilith then, listening to the rowdy and vivacious woman on speakerphone while her phone is on the bar. She goes to spreading peanut butter on crackers after a moment of shaking off the surprise that comes from hearing the caller.

"You still got Turner on your jock, don't you? I'd heard some things, but after this long, I was thinking 'psshhht'. Fuuuuuck, girl. I told you he was crazy. He got them crazy dark eyes, too damned intense, you don't know what motherfuckers like that be planning or doing behind them eyes."

Lilith can't help but chuckle a little, despite the subject matter, making art in the peanut butter of her cracker with the small spread knife while standing in the kitchen.

"It was a problem for a while, haven't heard from him recently, so knock on some wood, bitch. Jesus, there are much better things to talk about."

"Like you gettin' married to some rich fool and living in fuck-all Washington when you ain't takin' trips to France?"

"... uh yeah. Who have you been talking to?"

---

The conversation is easily overheard with the echo of the kitchen and speakerphone through the loft's door. Lilith isn't expecting Byron, he's working too, but he loves to feed her, it's principle, isn't it?

The Harvest Festival was in full swing and the town was appropriately decorated for the week long festivities. The same thick fog from last year had rolled into town, making driving almost difficult. This along with the Carnivale-goers, dressed in costumes and masks make Gray Harbor feel that much more unsettling. People are driving slower than usual and it actually takes a while before Byron arrives to the pawn shop with take-out Italian and a nice glass of wine to go with it. It's not the usual casual fare that he tends to bring her, burgers or popcorn shrimp. Hell, you could hear voices along the boardwalk and run into people without realizing that they were right in front of you.

Making his way into the shop, once he's parked, he offers a polite hello to whomever is manning the register, before heading up the stairs to the loft. At first, he thinks that Lilith has company, hearing someone else up there with her and thus he takes pause before simply barging in. He's a master eavesdropper, so he lingers just outside, upon the stairs, to try and gauge what's being discussed. Turner is mentioned? The Grant Turn-- It seems so. Rather than enter, he'll wait.

The voice on the other end of the speakerphone conversation in the loft finally pauses and seems to be weighing how to answer Lilith's question. It's a bit like Chantal doesn't want to be a snitch or source her gossip. But gossip wins in the end, and the pair of them actually and genuinely got along, hanging out as a little more than acquaintances now and again. Where Lilith was a pain specialist dominatrix for years in Miami, the woman on the other end of the phone was a very popular humiliation and roleplay dominatrix, maybe still is.

And they had some times while out and about on the city, it brings back memories for Lilith while she finally eats her peanut butter cracker and waits a little warily and expectantly for Chantal to answer her.

In fact, she has to prompt when Chantal starts with a slow "Girrrl, you know I..."

"No, I don't know, that's why I'm asking. You brought it up, now spill."

"... Laurent. Fuck him, though, he did you dirty twice when he pulled what he pulled with you in the bedroom, all kinds of taking advantage. Don't you EVEN argue with me about that, I know what happened, and YOU are what's called 'terminally pretty'. Men want you too goddamn much and you make it hard, it's like fucking catnip pussy." There's a pause on the other end of the phone while the woman audibly lights a joint and exhales, "Anyway, I didn't know how much of his shit talk was this motherfucker being weird and salty. He wouldn't even say how he knew. Which means that motherfucker's been talking to Grant's stalker-happy ass or stalking himself. You know what Laurent does still, don't you? Dunno how he ain't getting caught, but he's selling out all the clients worth a blackmail to Turner. And that ain't even a suspicion, it's truth, I heard it from Turner himself a few months ago."

"Okay, what, wait, you talked to Grant too? Why the hell..." Lilith narrows her eyes and almost chokes on a cracker because Chantal was the one person that had no trouble stonewalling the man and refusing to associate with him. He found the whole thing 'cute' instead of offensive, which is probably a good thing for her given his particular temper and capabilities. She just did not give a fuck.

"Mmhm. Cornered me a few months ago at a restaurant bathroom hallway, askin' if I'd talked to you or been invited to your wedding. Girl, he wanted to be my DATE and tried to say it was all well-wishin' good times. But you know how his eyes do when he's being too nice, they go all lasers. Like, seriously, I don't know how he got in over you for however long, dude is probably a serial killer. 'course, I didn't tell him Laurent told me, I played dumb, and it wasn't no lie anyway, I didn't get invited. So whatever, fuck him." Pause, "Be careful, though. He was with a date, treating her like a servile Barbie and she looked a LOT like you."

"Okay, well, first of all Chantal, I haven't had my wedding yet, and I think you're the one person in Miami that's allowed to come. Second of all, drop it about Laurent, it's complicated. Shitty, yes, but I can't even remember... what all he... and that's my fault, so drop it. Third of all, you didn't say HOW Laurent and the sellout-hustle came up with Grant... like how do you get from... that to THAT?"

The dog wants more food and starts to push his bowl around. Pacing around, Lilith goes to tend to that, brows knit, no clue Byron is outside the door hearing this thing about Laurent, on top of whatever Grant is being creepy about while supposedly kept at bay from their lives from whatever reason.

Standing just outside the closed door and listening to Lilith hold this conversation with a woman who he's not sure that he'd heard of, but may have seen pictures of once he and Lil reconnected and he went snooping some into her work history to learn more about Camilla and some others, Byron shifts his weight from one foot to the other, leaning more heavily on the leg on the lower step. Whoever this was, however, sounded annoying if you asked Thorne, but she was willing to give out some juicy gossip, he supposes.

Hearing this thing where Laurent did Lilith dirty, that catches his attention, turning slowly towards the door. The man had taken advantage of her? Now he has to wonder how. His attention refocuses when this Chantal starts on about Turner once more and this ploy that he wanted to rope this woman into, but for what? Just as arm candy and distraction? Because he didn't want to show up alone? So news about their wedding, thanks to the Revisionist had a long reach too? Or was that a lie? Or...

He considers this for a moment, wanting to reach into his phone and dial up his own private investigator. He's not sure how much of what happens in Gray Harbor reaches outside of town, especially where the Veil is concerned, so was one of Grant's plants in town? His hands were full and though he shoves the bag of Italian food into the crook of the arm holding the wine, even when he reaches into his pocket for his phone, he thinks better than to pull it out right at this moment. Hearing Lilith's voice grow louder as she wanders into the kitchen, he continues to keep quiet for a moment longer.

The dog is satisfied when he gets a little more kibble and Lilith goes to pacing. However, at some point during the conversation, she goes to get a beer and opens the fridge. Sirius sniffs the air to see if she's about to get him something else to eat while in there, but suddenly he seems to smell something else. Italian food. And maybe Byron, but definitely Italian food. His dessert bites of food wolfed down during the talk, the animal ends up at the door laid flat, sniffing and snuffling under the crack. Slowly and intermittently, his tail begins to thump the floor with anticipation.

"He offered me money to get an in-road to your wedding. Annnnnd, he told me while trying to schmooze with his creeper eyes... Laurent could tell me he's good for paying very pretty for things he wants to hear. Or some shit like that, you know his suave buy-the-world talk that makes you want to punch him in the face. Anyway, I told him if he'd confirm my suspicions about Laurent, I'd ask if he could be my date for the wedding and give him the details." There's another drag puff of smoking on the other end of the line and some horns of the city beeping like Chantal is smoking near an open window in a downtown area, "You're not married yet, I was getting conflicting info on that until you told me, so that's good."

"How the fuck is this GOOD, Chantal?" Lilith blows out exasperation and leans with her hands on the edge of the bar counter after swigging from her beer and putting it down. She doesn't notice what the dog is doing immediately, she's highly bothered and distracted now, "Because you get paid when I invite you with the details? Are you kidding me right now?"

"Girl. Why would I tell you if that's how I wanted to do you? It's good 'cause you know he's trying to pull some mess in advance, and I can make up some bullshit. He ain't gonna pay me for it when he quick figures out something isn't gonna add up, but fuck him. And fuck Laurent too, why do you think I wanted the dirt from the horse's mouth? I'm tired of him putting us in a position to all fall down, for one, and for two, girl, fuck him, just like he fucked you. You didn't see it comin' and neither will he." Chantal puffs hard and fast on the other end of the phone while smoking now, getting worked up. She REALLY does not like Laurent for some reason that might extend beyond skeezing on Lilith.

"You are such a bitch. And you're playing a dangerous game, I'm serious. He's crazier than you think, Chantal. But also fuck you for saying what you just said. I don't care what new beef you and Laurent have and that whole empire of paid servitude is done for me, it's not my problem and don't use me as some hero chip for whatever you're about to pull. I know you care, but I also know this isn't all about me all of a sudden for you, either."

"Hey mami, hey. I'm sorry, okay? You're right, I shouldn't have said that, I forget you ain't as stone cold queen as you used to try and come off. My bad, girl. My mouth don't slow down enough for my brain to say it ain't actin' right, gettin' older isn't making me wiser. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true and let you know what's popping off 'cause you deserved to know. Don't gotta invite me to a damn thing. But you do gotta let me see a picture of that fine piece I hear your man is..."

If Byron doesn't happen to walk in first, Lilith finally notices the way the dog is acting while she clicks her tongue and swipes finger on her phone screen atop the bar to send a picture.

Byron can sense the dog's interest from the other side of the door, listening to its nails tapping against the floor nearby. He almost has an urge to distract it mentally to calm it down, but despite spying on the phone conversation going on, he doesn't expect to linger out here for much longer. Chantal doesn't give many details, but the man feels that he knows enough to go prying into this Laurent's business. He'd met the other once before, a smooth talker sort who took Lilith in, but what else had gone on in that household?

The rest of Turner's plan is quietly noted as well, growing all the more curious as to what the woman actually plans on telling the wealthy psychopath. At some point, the door does swing open and rather than wait tentatively the way one would when they feel like they may be intruding in on something, he steps in as if he hadn't realized that she was on the phone. Or at least, didn't realize that the call was important. Idly petting the dog with his free hand, he gives the room an initial sweep. "I thought I heard someone here. I was about to say that I wasn't sure I brought enough for lunch." Not that the Italian restaurant didn't serve large portions. Walking over to Lilith, setting the bag of Italian goodness down along with the bottle of wine, he leans in to press a kiss against her hair.

"Hope you didn't have anything eat already."

Lilith is just sending a picture of Byron when he walks in, so he gets to hear Chantal make an 'mmhmm' noise of approval over the speakerphone as the brunette herself looks over with surprise at the door opening. Though she wasn't expecting the man, she subconsciously just feels a little safer with the dog around to alert her if something is amiss, she thinks, and clearly the animal smelled Byron out with the food before she even noticed. Leaning her head into the kiss as he steps near, she explains aside, "One peanut butter cracker and a drink of beer." Suddenly the phone starts being nosy.

"Is that him? Turn on your facetimes, lemme see that Prince Charming that broke your mean spell."

Sighing and giving a look at the man that says she'll explain who this is later, she picks up her phone and nudges in against him so the camera angle can get them both in selfie view for a hello. Lilith doesn't bother putting on a smile once it's on, she makes a tongue out face at her reflection knowing the other end of the phone can see it, then makes the introductions, "Chantal, this is Byron Thorne. Byron, the nosy woman is Chantal Jackson. I knew her in Miami." That tidbit alone probably says volumes if he hadn't been listening on the other side of the door, things from her past tend to be a little loaded more than pleasant catchup. Apparently, it's hard to detangle from certain lifestyles and colleagues, no matter how far you go.

"Also he just brought me food so I'm going to eat it. So enjoy his pretty smile and we're hanging up, unless Byron wants to take over talking to you. I'll text you or something, or you text me sometime."

Sirius soaks up the pets when the man passes by and is hot on his tail to lay under the bar and wait for them to get into the bag so it can dine on the smells.

"Mmhmm, mmhmm, lemme see. Also, I was gonna tell you, in case the name's familiar-- what's his face was at the restaurant with some nerdy guy worth a fortune that was in town with him from your area. Dumb ass name too, I forget it. Pinkler? No, no. Pickler. Soon as my phone cuts on the image and I see this man of yours, though, I'm going to work anyway, gotta do that hustle and-- ooooh! That picture doesn't do him justice!"

Byron's already getting out some plates and glasses when he hears the woman on the other line mention Prince Charming. He was at the casino all day, so he's still dressed in his navy colored three-piece suit, complete with a black tie with subtle patterns in silver thread to complete the look. His dark hair is also slicked back, the way he often wears it when he's acting a professional capacity. He may pass for a Seattleite rather than someone who was born and grew up in a dinky little Washington town such as Gray Harbor.

Moving in close when Lilith angles the camera at the both of them, there's no look of annoyance or exasperation on his face; his is a friendly and warm smile. "Nice hearing from you, Chantal. I'm sure Miami is lovely this time of year." While Gray Harbor is thick in fog at the moment. He also assumes that the woman still lives there. At the mention of Pickler's name, there's just this flash of recognition in Thorne's dark eyes, though he continues to wear that beaming smile.

Turning to press his lips into Lilith's hair once more, this time for the camera, he turns back to the camera, "I have to go set up for lunch. Again, nice meeting you." With a bit of a wave, because he's quite the showman, he steps out of camera view to do just as he said: He takes out several containers from within the restaurant bag and starts to scoop the contents out onto the plates. It's a hearty lasagna, but there's also soup and salad and delicious smelling bread. All the while, he'll listen to what else is said and if Lilith turns off the speaker phone, he'll just key into her side of the conversation.

"I don't think dogs can eat lasagna." He's quick to point out to the nosy pup who probably already ate. But just to make sure, he pulls out his phone as if to Google the answer to that. What he is doing is taking note of information gathered from the conversation for further investigation.

Lilith looks aside at Byron and chuckles some after letting Chantal have her view of the smiling man in top presentation Thorne mode, clicking the camera off soon after a preview is given. She doesn't seem in the mood to play showoff, despite her tickle of inclination to brag about the man in general. But conversation topics aside, Chantal has went and used the name Pickler, who is an associate for business and acquaintance of Byron's that they met in Seattle about a year ago. Byron also met Grant Turner that night, a calculated run-in by the commercial real estate mogul.

"Ay, papi, come see us and take a look at the weather yourself! Bring this one here. I'll talk to you later, girl."

"Yeah, hey Chantal?" Lilith pauses and stops looking at Byron to look at the phone before quick hanging up to puff air over her lips, "Thanks. Talk to you later."

After getting off of the call, the brunette woman takes a long drink of her beer and watches the dog get back up and somewhat excited now that Byron's talking 'eat' at him. He seems to know that word, even if he doesn't have a clue what lasagna is. Aside, as a byline to the animal, Lilith comes to approach the man in a tight hug from behind while he's finishing the plate serving on the bar counter, cheek resting against his back, "... I like surprises. I think I need a surprise right now to counter the other surprise of Chantal calling." Sighing a puff of air into his suit jacket, she wonders, "How much of her loud ass did you hear?" She doesn't sound wary about this so much, just curious what he's already picked up of the conversation.

Byron is even tempted to send a message out to Pickler, asking if he was dropping by to take part in the Harvest festival which was still going on, but he decides to wait til later in case he gets into conversation with the other guy. The phone is promptly tucked away back into his pocket as he turns to the dog. "You know, if I give you any of this, I'll have to rinse off the tomato sauce, the cheese and I'm sure there's garlic and onions galore in it. I just don't think it's worth it. Unless you really want to chew on a wad of pasta."

He shifts lightly, feeling Lilith's arms around his waist and her cheek pressed against his back. "Why? What's wrong? Sounded like Chantal really missed you." She'll feel him gently dislodge from her hold, only to turn around to check what's wrong, placing, lifting her chin up in his hand as he strokes a thumb against her cheek. "Did she say something? Who were you all talking about?" Besides Pickler, obviously, but there's a lot of Picklers though most likely not many wealthy ones in their 'area'.

When Byron turns, Lilith slides her hands down to his hips while he reaches to take her chin and tilt her face upward for viewing while posing his questions. While it can can often show any sign of bother that runs deep and buried if he gets a hold of her soon enough after what could be a triggering event, right now she's just looking up at him with a vaguely dubious kind of expression, answering on the subject of Chantal first, "I don't know if she really slows down enough to miss me, but she wasn't the worst. She's just... you get what you get with her, you know? She's a humiliation and roleplay dominatrix, so she... well. It takes a certain kind, just like my work took a certain kind."

As to the inquiry on who they were talking about, though, she thinks for a moment before wondering of Byron, "Can we still eat? I want a few bites in before one of us decides to throw our plates while I'm telling you." Turning her face to catch the man's stroking thumb, she brushes and kisses against it with her lips, eyes closing a moment, "She was talking about Grant when she mentioned Pickler as associate."

When her eyes reopen, she breathes out a soft puff of sigh, face still turned to kiss at his thumb. But it puts one of the spanning loft windows into peripheral view too, which mostly shows fog. But for just a moment, she thinks she sees Grant in the fog, which should be impossible, he's no ghost and she doesn't think she's Dreaming. Abruptly, she closes her eyes, then casts a more wary, direct glance at the window and sees just swirling mist thicker under the back lot lights.

Byron already knows what's wrong, he heard quite a bit of the conversation through the closed door. He just wanted to hear the story from Lilith's lips. See what she felt comfortable telling him. The fact that Chantal was a humiliation and roleplay dominatrix would usually get this look of amusement on the man's face and perhaps a quirk of a dark brow, but instead, he simply nods in understanding, his thumb brushing against her lips in full to feel her kisses against it.

He didn't really feel like eating at the moment, nor did he want her to freak out in distress right here, so he'll agree with the food. "Sure, we can eat. Do you want to eat first then talk about it?" She already brought up that this conversation had to do with Grant Turner, so there's no use playing the calm and oblivious card here. He keeps the firmness from his voice, though. "Get the wine glasses and I'll carry these plates to the couch."

Leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, the man tries to ease her in that direction so that they can settle down, eat, have some wine and discuss certain important matters.

Grabbing the wine glasses and making double sure they're nice and full, not at that fancy swirling half level, she brings them over to the couch and coffeetable. Settling in next to Byron quite close with nestling, she leans to nab two bites like she's stress eating, then falls against him a moment with 'mmm' while chewing, appreciative for the food itself all of a sudden despite whatever's going on.

"We can talk about it. It's fine. If I lose my appetite I can reheat it later and say I got a few bites in while it's hot anyway. And it's very good, so maybe it will help instead." Also there's wine, which Lilith leans to get after a few moments to take a lengthy drink before sitting upright with a clap of her hands against her skirted thighs to start, "Well. I haven't talked to Chantal since before I moved here. But she called today because Laurent told her I was either married or getting married, I couldn't follow which. Anyway, he wouldn't tell her how he knew and she's all salty with him and wants dirt on some sketchy things we've suspected he's been doing a long time."

Pointing out a line she told Chanel, "I told her I didn't want to be in the middle of it and those business problems aren't my problems. But see, that dirt she wants on him, she got it from Grant when he cornered her in a restaurant. And in trade, she's supposed to get invited to our wedding and bring him as a guest and give him the details. Also he had a date that looked like me for added creep factor and apparently Pickler was there too, as you heard."

Settled down on the couch and waiting for Lilith to join them, Byron leans forward to set her plate down on the coffee table, all the while contemplating on this situation that they find themselves in. When she does show up to sit herself down close and cozy, despite the conversation they are about to have, he'll give her this reassuring smile as he takes one of the glasses off her hands. During the course of this discussion, he eats at a normal rate, as a show that he's not overly bothered by the news, even if there is pause for concern here and there.

In truth, he's taking what she says (what he'd heard mentioned in her phone call) seriously, but that doesn't mean losing your cool. She brings up Laurent. Chantal was talking about Laurent earlier, but for now, he doesn't ask. "Why would Grant give Laurent up? I mean, I can understand the need to cut some of your ties loose, permanently, but that's a last ditch effort to ensure that things don't burn down around you." Obviously, Byron can understand 'greed' as a motivation, believing that's what's at play here. "Right, I heard Pickler's name mentioned. So he's in bed with Turner?" He says nothing about the 'date who looked like her'. Byron's slept another woman who looked similarly to Lilith, at least in facial features. Her name was Olivia Marchand.

While seated, Lilith does a fair bit of eating and talking through that first half, but she starts to slow down and switch to wine about halfway through. When he asks why Grant would give Laurent up, she stops eating entirely and chews like she's having a bit of trouble swallowing. Then settling back against the couch cushions next to him and giving him space to eat if he's not finished, she drains another good portion of her wine.

She addresses things in alternate order, though, when it comes to his wonderings, starting with the easier matter of Pickler first because it's not Laurent, "I mean, Pickler was obviously being schmoozed by Turner for some reason, possibly because he realized he's connected to you. But think about Pickler himself for a minute. You really think this guy knows who Grant really is and why he's being schmoozed? I mean, I'm sure he tells Turner things about us when asked, if they're things he can answer, but it's not like he really knows anything or is deep into your business to be giving anything number related to Grant, right? He's probably setting him up as a pawn or access route to us without the guy knowing, if I had to guess, but who knows. Isn't beyond him to try and compensate Pickler in some way to try something prescribed and directed."

There's another drink of wine then and her head turns to look back at her phone on the counter. Dragging the fingers of her free hand through her dark hair, she looks at Byron with a thick pause and semi-widened eyes with a touch of anxiety over what she's about to say. Which probably doesn't bode well since the information so far has been bothersome, "So. Chantal didn't say it exactly, but she kept throwing it down to talk about, so I think... she told Turner about what Laurent has... done to me a couple of times. It's the only way to get the dirt she wanted on him about selling client info and blackmail material for some of the big names. I mean yeah, there's the wedding trade deal, which she's going to lie about and I hope she doesn't get hurt over it. But spilling the details of what happened with me is... the only real thing I can think of that would make him toss the guy under a bus while he's an asset."

Then Lilith waits for Byron to ask the inevitable question with another drink of wine. And he already knows from the somewhat grim, falling cast of her features, he's not going to like the answer.

"You're probably right, but I wouldn't underestimate a man like Pickler. You don't come into that kind of money being oblivious about the world around you." Byron makes sure to point out as he cuts into a piece of lasagna to fork into his mouth. "Tech mogul, someone making money off of a lame mobile game app? Once they come into Pickler's amount of wealth," Yes, the man's done research on the other guy, "You start learning to play the game, figuring out who you need to step on to get ahead or else someone else will get ahead of you." Business. It's a harsh world.

"Do I believe that Pickler knows the sort of man Turner is?" he considers this, "Does it really matter? Does Pickler believe that a man like Grant Turner can get ahead of the game? Yes. Not everyone's going to ask questions on your motivation if money or benefits is attached." Byron knows this all too well also and could possibly look the other way if the incentive were right.

But this is't all about Pickler. Nor is it about Grant Turner.

The conversation moves from Turner to Laurent and for some reason this upsets Lilith more, at the moment, than just the fact that Turner was using Pickler to spy on them. Setting his fork down, he takes up his glass for a drink, all while keeping eye contact with Lilith, listening to her explanation. Personally, he doesn't care what Chantal does or how much trouble she gets into, it's this other thing that he's far more interested in. "And what did happen to you?"

Lilith screws up her nose a touch while sitting quietly, like her expression and features can't settle on something to land on when it comes to saying some things aloud. Her brows knit down a touch, she looks at Sirius trying to creep on her plate now that she's left it be, then she makes a noise and little hand gesture to tell him to go lie down. The dog does so obediently, but it's maybe a little obvious that Lilith feeds him from her plate when Byron isn't around or home and it might be undoing some of the training when it comes to food. He might want to say something about that, but right now obviously isn't the time.

Sliding her eyes over to look at Byron sidelong with a hint of consideration, what she's remembering is how dark his features took turn when she told him about the shit Jameson simply tried to pull when she was a teenager, with no success. She wonders if this is really a good idea to talk about in the name of open sharing and honesty, but there's no real way to sugarcoat it and he asked directly now. A lot of her past outside of the major details and significant problem of Turner is pretty closed book still, but she told herself a good while ago when he asked her to marry him, she'd tell him anything he wanted to know. He was making her so very his, it seems right and fair. But...

After all the sitting and distraction and vague expression changes, Lilith finally pulls in a breath and turns some in her seated position on the couch cushion, drawing one leg in partial bend as she plays with the Piaget rose pendant at her throat. Then she looks directly at Byron and mostly gets it all out in direct, conversational calm that's just tinged with frustration in places, "You know I shared a house with Laurent in New Orleans. I lived with him for a bit in Miami after the move, then I got a condo with another girl from Craigslist. Yes, Craigslist, I know. But that's... how quickly I wanted out of his place when it was time for me to cut and run."

There's a pause and murmured byline as her lashes cut briefly aside to look absently at the window and the fog swirling outside, but given what she thought she saw shortly before sitting, she doesn't let her eyes really focus. After a few heartbeats of time, the blue gaze ticks semi-hesitantly back to Byron's dark eyes and his features for gauging when the next part comes slower.

"He was drugging me. I don't really... know how many times. But I can sort of remember two and had... some pretty telltale signs in bed and bodily when I fully woke up and started thinking clearly." There's a pause here, Lilith takes a long drink of wine to drain the glass, then leans to put it aside so she can use her hands in clasp together to start playing with the diamond engagement ring on her finger, "The first time, I thought it was a dream and I didn't know who... it just... I don't know, it's hard to explain how I felt separated from my body, like you would in a dream, but I think that was the drugs. I mean, I had been out and came home kinda stumbling, but my head was still clear until... nightcap over late dinner."

"That's the kind of backtrack logic I didn't work out immediately, though. Because you don't suspect when you wake up in bed that... anything like that is more than a really vivid dream. I just felt the touch, the mouth, pieces of... what came next. Then nothing. And when I woke up, I mean, there were signs, but I thought I just had... I don't know what I was telling myself, honestly."

There's a brisk, frustrated shake of her head before she looks down at the ring on her finger that she's twisting and playing with while speaking.

"The second time, I realized what was happening in the middle and I couldn't... react right. Part of me was confused and alarmed and wanting to push him away, but my body wasn't... and I couldn't stay conscious. But again, it was hard to really place as anything I could go accusing about, especially with him acting like nothing happened, so I started to wonder if it was maybe antidepressants and drinking giving me vivid dreams or..." She pauses, "I think I knew, though. I moved out that week. I just had the urge to run and... locked it all away. I told Chantal one drunk night about a year later, I guess, when we were talking about vivid dreams and she put a bit of two and two together because she never trusted him like I did."

Not looking up, she murmurs, "So yeah. I mean, the short version is, I'm pretty sure he drugged me and fucked me a couple of times, in retrospect."

They were adults and had lived their young adult loves moving into adulthood since leaving Gray Harbor to follow their fates elsewhere. So Byron has no illusions that Lilith never had relationships, never slept around during her time away, especially since they'd grown apart during high school. She was a lovely, spirited young woman. Why wouldn't she have been in at least one relationship by the time they'd reunited just last year. He's had his own sexual exploits during this time, starting from even before he left Gray Harbor, so he couldn't expect anything more from her.

The word of Laurent's drugging her comes out, but even he knew how parties like that sometimes went, right? There were drugs involved and other unsavory things. That didn't make it right even if he may not have stopped others from doing anything of the sort. And this was no party.

The edges of the man's lips tug tightly, but he hides his full anger as best he can. Instead, he takes a drink, but not one to leave a dead air so expansive that she would get the wrong idea and think that he's upset or disappointed in all the wrong things. He didn't want her to think that he was disappointed in /her/. "I don't agree with Turner on anything," Besides business matters, one would assume, "But I do agree in his desire to bring Laurent Martin down because I would be trying the exact same thing." Though he'd more than likely take a different approach than Turner.

His free hand reaches out to rest down upon Lilith's, giving hers a firm squeeze. He was glad to know the full story, he thinks, but he was less than happy that this was done to the woman. "If Turner fails to do this, then I'll make sure something comes to fruition in regards to Martin."

"We were never.... like that together, just roommates. I'd come home and if he was around, he'd have a glass of wine or... water and a pain pill for me to take to sleep off whatever mood or state I was in when I got there. I didn't think twice about it. I don't know how many times there were. No one expects... to go home where it's supposed to be a safe space and... be someone's Sleeping Beauty fetish or... I don't know." Pause, "I thought it was just life coming around reaping what I sowed and I... mostly refused to think about it or told myself I was crazy. When it got too real to ignore, I left."

Lilith's voice is quiet, but she sounds like there's a taut edge in her tone, as if she's keeping herself very closely restrained and controlled. Her blue gaze stays downward, fixated on Byron's hand when it squeezes on her own. There's another pause, then Lilith stresses, "It's hard for me to call places home. Places aren't safe. That's why I always tell you that you're my home. You're where I'm safe."

Abruptly, there's a small, clearing shake of her head, despite her refusal to look directly at Byron. She sits up a little straighter and rakes a hand back through her dark strands of hair, grabbing and holding it for a moment before her fingers card with sliding drag. Then she looks back at the direction of her phone on the bar, getting right back to pertinent business after a huge breath inward and puffed outward.

"... I mean. It's done. Can't change anything. You just needed to know what I think is the sudden motivation that Chantal gave him. I think it's all going to get ugly. We should stay away from it and let it resolve itself. It's not my problem anymore, and at least we know Turner is trying to piss on our wedding in some way... and that he's trying to schmooze Pickler, or... whatever is going on there. I imagine you're itching to call him."

Whether Byron believed that Lilith and Laurent were an item at any point or not, it does bring some relief to him to know that they were not. It's nothing that he will come out and say, but he'll simply nod to this revelation. There was no need to try and convince her that he didn't believe that they were ever in a relationship in his mind. It would just make things awkward. When she speaks of home, however, he knows full well how unsafe one's home can actually be. Perhaps the Thorne House was never a 'home' to him as well.

This time both of his arms reach out to tug her in close against him. He's already thinking of these dark thoughts, no need for her to look on his face to even catch a glimpse of what he cannot hide. Cradling her in his arms, one hand stroking down the length of her hair while he nuzzles his chin against the top of her head, he continues to ponder and plot. He knows that they can't change anything, but that doesn't mean that he has to let this crime go unpunished.

When she brings up Pickler though, mentioning his possible need to get into contact with the other man, the stroking at her hair stops. She'll probably notice this, though it's a brief momentary pause before he picks back up where he leaves off. "There are a lot of things that I'm itching to do." It's a non-answer. "What do /you/ want us to do?"

Lilith isn't making eye contact with Byron still, she looks to where the dog is resting asleep with his head between his white paws on a fluffy new dog bed pillow throne at the foot of the bed, behind the couch. She isn't sure she can keep the shame or general discomfort out of her eyes, even though her demeanor is still pretty conversational and controlled, and... she's not sure she wants to actually see Byron's face and eyes at the moment, either. Whether he's calm and cool as glacial ice or darkly and silently raging with his eyes alone, she knows what he's heard is... infuriating.

She'd be infuriated if the tables were turned, even though she's very cautious about feeling anything at the moment. She'd never quite said the words aloud, Chantal mostly figured it out from context clues and suspicions that came from just not liking the guy... and maybe some rumors she'd heard before. Hearing the confessing makes Lilith feel gross and dirty or tainted somehow, and most definitely head-in-the-sand stupid, but she's not letting it latch right now, it will just upset Byron more if she goes letting herself be upset.

And in truth, instead of the rage or overwhelm she tends to feel when bothered, this is markedly different. She's never let herself feel much of anything about it other than the taint or shame and foolishness here and there. Maybe she should just keep it that way. Instead of reacting to much of anything she's talked about, when she feels the tug of Byron's arms drawing her in to tuck her face in against his chest and heartbeat with his chin atop her head, she nuzzles there and thinks for a long moment.

"... call him and ask him if he's coming out to stay and play a little for the Festival. You had mentioned it before, maybe he is. It's probably better to gauge any conversation you have with him in person and here so you can use whatever mindbanging is convenient to help us suss this out. And let's just see what he says about coming and go from there?"

Byron doesn't even take notice of the dog right now, the K-9 being a mere afterthought when compared to the problems that they are currently dealing with. Even if his eyes drift over the sleeping critter, his mind is so far away to even realize that Sirius was there. He tries not to rock in his seat, though that's what he feels like doing: rock Lilith back and forth in his arms as way to comfort her. His hold around her tightens, but he's doing his best to keep him temper under control.

"That's a good idea. I'll do just that. Then'll I'll ask him several questions on his comings and goings in town, perhaps. Who he's been talking to, only because we've had many reach out to offer their congratulations and things of that nature. From there, I try to catch him in a lie or otherwise." Mentalists do make great lie detectors. He'll hold her there for a moment longer, his own plans racing through his sharp mind.

Eventually, she'll feel his embrace begin to loosen, slowly. "If you can stomach it, we can try and finish eating. If not, I could always use another glass of wine." Perhaps, it's that at that point that Byron thinks he sees some movement or shadow from out of the corner of his eye, but the skies outside are thick and full of fog that it was probably nothing-- or, it was Gray Harbor something, since the Veil and Dreaming and the real world tend to blend together at this time of year.

"If you wanna call him real quick and see if he's coming so we can be ready for it, go ahead. It'll at least feel like taking steps forward in this instead of sitting and grinding our gears with agitation. I'll go get the bottle of wine for refills. Think I need to stand up and pace a little while you do that, anyway. Which is far better than any other way I likely react when things are stupid, so we'll just let it happen."

Lilith slow nods while gradually pulling herself into upright sit on her own again when Byron's arms loosen. And this time she looks directly at him when pulled away, turning up a hint of a smile for him despite herself and the conversation at hand. After making her proposition, she starts to rise up to get the wine as stated, but once standing, she pauses to lean and press a long kiss against the man's mouth, slow with sensuality and affection alike. After straightening, she goes to get the wine and refill them both, walking the bottle back toward the kitchen to throw away since it's empty.

On the way back out of the kitchen to return to the couch, though, she catches another distorted image in the fog through the wide and long upstairs loft windows. It draws her up short and her eyes widen a touch, but hopefully, Byron is busy with a call at this point anyway. Instead of looking downright spooked, though, she pretends she forgot something, at least by appearances, and goes back to the kitchen to refill the dog's water.

But while she's out of view, Lilith takes a moment to close her eyes at the sink and contain herself. She reminds herself the fog is strange, it always has been, hasn't it? She can't be seeing Grant, no matter what the twisted manifest of swirling fog is working on her senses.

Byron's hand reaches out to touch at Lilith's wrist when she untangles herself from him to stand, keeping them connected physically for as long as possible. His chin lifted, he studies her face when she looms over him, before she wanders to the kitchen. Only then does he relinquish his hand from her to dig into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his phone in his hands, he pulls up his contact list and scrolls down until he comes to Pickler's name. Before he even gives the man a call, however, with Lilith mostly out of view, he reaches out to her with his mind.

She's been holding it together and he knows that she must be upset, but what he's seeking out is just how upset she really is. Rather than lean in back against the couch, he hunches forward, planting his elbows on his thighs with the phone held within both hands, making it look as if he were busy.

Even as he probes Lilith's emotions, Byron is idly toying with his phone in hand. His focus isn't on Pickler's number or anything that he sees on screen, instead he zeroes in on mixture of emotions that he's picking up. Most of what he senses are things that he expects, but this is also what he was hoping to gauge from her. Her anxiety and her shame, even if he's hoping to dig deeper to learn something more. Did the idea of this devastate her? Was she traumatized by even thinking of what Laurent had done?

Slowly, he begins to settle back, having pressed the button to dial up Pickler's number just as the phone is lifted to his ear.

That's when he picks up a different sort of emotion. Was that fear? Was this a slow reaction to what she was going through? It didn't feel that way to Byron and after cancelling out the outbound call, he turns to look over at Lilith from where he's seated, "Is everything okay, Lil?"

Standing at the sink and letting the moment pass so that she's sure she's not slipping into a Dream, she turns the water off and sets the bowl down as Byron calls out. Turning to exit the kitchen around the bar at barefoot walk, she wipes her wet hand on her skirt from water sloshed over the bowl while she was carrying it. She also resolves not to look at the windows and looks at Byron instead while making a bit of a beeline to sit down with her refilled glass of wine, nestled in lean at his side. That'll make her feel better. On the way over, though, she answers, "Yeah, why? The dog just needed water. And I thought I saw something in the fog, but it's fog, so..."

Shrugging her shoulders up a little bit, she takes a long draught from her newly poured wine and then looks at Byron's phone, "Did you get his voicemail or something?" While she's technically answered as to seeing something weird, she's pretty carefully dismissive about it because given the subject seen and the problem at hand, it's no wonder she'd see that, right? While seated, she rubs her other hand in soothe over his near leg, back and forth flat palm stroke.

He felt a sudden unnerved spike emanating from her. Now Byron had to piece out what happened? Was it a thought that, something that she'd seen or felt? Watching her meander through the kitchen before setting the bowl of water for the dog, the dark-haired man tries to piece together what had her so concerned in that one moment. First she's feeling all sorts of normal emotions to what they'd been discussing and then this.

"Yeah, it went straight to voice mail and I didn't feel like leaving a message just then. I'll do it later." It was lunchtime currently, despite how dark it looked outside due to the season and the fog. "The fog's been pretty bad as of late. As usual. There should be travel restrictions in place right now, especially for drivers."He lifts an arm for her to snuggle up against him once she retakes her seat. "You don't want them plowing into pedestrians who fade in and out of the mist."

Before he turns to refocus his full attention back on Lilith, he notices a thick fog clinging onto one of the windows.

When looking out the window, the fog swirls constantly, shifting to vaguely form the subconscious-nagging semblance of a two story house with gaping spots in the fog for the windows and doors. A male figure resembling his build walks into the gaping doorway, then gets consumed, the doors and windows disappearing before the house does too.

All that he can do is watch with morbid fascination as the mist presents him with a familiar vision, never turning away until the figure and each part of the house finally fade from view. Fucking harvest festival fog.

With one arm slung over her shoulders, the others drops down to rest gently upon her hand at his leg. "Anyway, I'll get into contact with Pickler, probably some time today. Invite him over and we'll show him a good time." All while finding out as much as they can from him. However, it's not just Pickler that he wants now, even if he's tempted to wait and see how Turner plans out Laurent's fate. What will he have to do with Laurent. His mind juggles through the image in the fog and Laurent and Turner. The latter was his true focus, but it was difficult to shake the ominous vision.

"Sounds like a plan. Better than waiting around for a nip in the ass." Lilith says with a pointed effort still to not look at the windows and the fog outside, still nursing and swigging from her wine glass now and again while leaned in next to Byron. With his arm around her, she automatically takes to leaning against his side and chest with her cheek turning inward to smell his familiar cologne and soap with a nuzzle. The hand under his at his leg turns over to lace fingers through his longer ones, and she doesn't really notice the moment where he's rather taken (unnerved) with the view out of the window. She's too busy soaking up his near comfort now that she's got everything out she can think of at the moment.

"I really hope he brings a halfway decent date this time, at least. I spent time wondering if I stabbed the last one in the chest with chopsticks while having dinner... would silicone leak out or would they just bust like a balloon?" Lilith rolls her eyes and tries to make a little light of the subject while detailing what was running through her head while listening to one of Pickler's string of rotating arm candy last time he visited. After a click of her tongue with small dismay, she looks up at Byron with her lips a little stained at the inner pout curve from the prolonged drinking of red wine.

"Can we just go home with you when we go? I'll finish things from home." There's a slight pause before Lilith says, "Better one of us driving in the fog together than two of us separate, right?"

But really, she just doesn't want him to leave, or leave without her. She doesn't want to be alone with her own feelings and thoughts and see more things as omens in the fog. She's making her rationale so she doesn't have to say she's being clingy and afraid he'll find her tainted now too a little. Which is ridiculous, but that's exactly why she wants to stay near him right now. After speaking and looking up at him for a moment, she leans up and catches his mouth with hers for a momentary wine soaked kiss.

On murmured pull away, Lilith looks at Byron again, subtly gauging him with concern, "It wasn't easy to say, any of it. It wasn't easier to hear, I think. You okay?"

Byron is resting against Lilith just as much as she's using him as a sturdy stone for comfort. He gives their laced fingers a little squeeze, his gaze staring down at the way which they are bound together there for a passing moment. The gentle drifting of his thumb rubs against the outside of her hand. "I sometimes wondered if we could just set him up with someone. The girls he dates aren't all from money. The majority of them, I'm sure, are after money. But I figure we have some nice and caring girls in this little town of ours." He says this in an almost too earnest tone, as if he actually believed in what he was saying. At some point, he finds the ridiculousness of his own statement, bringing this shit-eating grin across his lips.

The hand she was linked with carefully withdraws and he does his best to not disturb her when he reaches forward for his fork to carve out a small section of lasagna, which he tries to carefully scoop up to slowly hover over to Lilith's lips. With his other arm draped around her, he doesn't have the luxury of using it to catch any mishap that may come of this. So slow and steady, he tries to balance the layers of lasagna without having any of it crumble or fall over and onto either of their laps. Where that fork is hovering, it would most likely be Lilith's.

"Sure, I can take us home after this. I already spent time at the office and due to the festivities, the casino's been fairly busy." His dark eyes then lift away from the fork and the lasagna to take in Lilith's blue depths when she asks if he's okay. "I'd like to wring Laurent's neck or worse, but I'm fine. I just wish that you didn't have the dredge that part of your past up to relive it all over again just because it's out in the open now." At least between the both of them. "Though I more hate that you had to go through that."

Lilith can't help but smile a touch when Byron mentions setting Pickler up with a local, murmuring small warning while she leans forward to meet the hovering fork with the carefully balanced bite, "We're just a different kind of crazy around here, might be easier to have an airhead." Nabbing the lasagna into her mouth, she chews and smiles a little bit more while looking back at Byron after he feeds her, accusing quietly before growing more serious while gazing into his dark eyes, "You're like an Italian grandmother with only one grandchild to stuff full when things are bad. Is it an urge or just habit? Good god, I love you."

The pause comes then when she considers what else he's saying, though, and she sits on that for a long moment after he's finished speaking, weighing how she feels about it all, collectively. It was hard to share, but also relevant for other reasons, so she couldn't just let it lie. Drinking from her wine glass while still eyeing the man, she sighs a little and leans to put the remains down so she can stroke at the side of Byron's face, "I should talk more about what was and how it's made me how I am. By the time I'm finished, though, you might want to burn the whole world down on principle because the universe has kind of been a huge dick to me."

Leaning in, she kisses Byron with a helpless semblance of smile before continuing with small drawback, "I got you back, though. If all the bullshit is what I had to pay to be like this with you and... know who I'm learning to be now... I'd do it again. I can look back now and know I came out alright, despite it, you know? Most of the time, anyway."

The man probably doesn't realize that he's doing it, but Byron always had this need to make sure that Lilith was well fed. So when she brings it up him right now, it catches him off guard, making him blink before beaming at her with light laughter and a smile. "It's almost as if it's a compulsion now, something that happens automatically without my even needing to think about it." After saying that, he muses, "I guess some might also call that a habit too. One that I can't break."

Leaning forward once more to carve out another chunk of lasagna, this time for himself, he resettles himself back with that fork now sticking out of his mouth, before he begins to chew. Listening further to what she has to say, his features sober as he's coming to term with the things that she'd experienced away from him and away from here. He knows that there's nothing that he can do to erase her past.

Sensing her nearness when she moves in for a kiss, his chin lifts meeting her lips with his own, nuzzling gently against her. He watches her through heavy lidded eyes, the faintest of smiles forming over his lips. As much as he wanted to erase the bad parts of Lilith's past, right now, he wouldn't change a thing if that meant having her back in his life. "We'll get through this. We'll find out what Turner's game is and then we shut it down." It's now his turn to express his own desires, savoring the sweet wine when his lips part to explore the woman mouth with delicious fervor.

The fog outside was thick and full of nightmares. He was in no rush to venture out onto the road. For now, this is where he felt safe.