The Devil's Angel (Part 1)

            Slap!

            Macey stumbled back, touching her face as she stared wide-eyed at the man who had been her husband for the past two years: Julius DaLair.  His sandy blonde hair crowned him like a halo, but there was nothing angelic about his current expression.  He stood in front of her with his face blazing with anger.  His gray eyes were a storm of emotions.  

            In the last few months, he had grown cold and dismissive, but never raised a hand to her before.  His breath smelled heavily of alcohol.  She could only guess how many drinks he had imbibed since they arrived at his father’s public birthday celebration.

            For a brief moment, his expression became ashen, and he stared at his hand in horror, as if shocked by what he had just done.  He blinked as the fog of alcohol and rage still churning within bubbled back to the surface.

            “You’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?” Julius demanded. “You’re just a gold-digging whore!”

            “N-no…”

            “Shut up!  I don’t want to hear it!”

            “But I’m not.”

            “What were you doing cuddling up to James?  Is my money not good enough for you anymore?”

            “I wasn’t.  He came up to me!  I told him…”

            “I said I don’t want to hear your lies!”

            Macey clenched her jaw, rubbing her sore cheek.  Tears welled in her normally bright green eyes.  Two years, he still didn’t believe a word she said, especially not when he had been drinking.  Two years?  No.  Actually, it was longer than that, after all they had grown up together.

            “You can go home first!” With a look of disgust, he turned and walked out of the private corner where he had dragged her from the crowd.

            Macey stood, trying to compose herself.  Their marriage had been one of convenience, more or less.  Her father was a veteran and served in Vietnam.  There he met and saved the life of Augustus DaLair.  After coming home, her father suffered severe PTSD.  Her mother, a nurse, encouraged him to use art as therapy and it worked.  Slowly, he pieced himself together, married and started a family.  

            Art remained an important part of her father’s life.  He tried to make it his livelihood.  Though his paintings were praised for their innovative compositions and unique use of color, the fact they always depicted war scenes and soldiers meant there was only a limited demand for them and her father never made much money.  In contrast, Augustus DaLair started a business empire. 

            Despite the vast difference in their social standings, Augustus remained their steadfast supporter.  Her father refused to take handouts and, in order to support his friend, Augustus became his most loyal patron, buying most of her father’s paintings, thus ensuring they had an income.  They were never rich, but they had what they needed.  

            Though her father wouldn’t take charity, he was glad to accept invitations to family gatherings and occasionally family vacations.  Macey grew up alongside the DaLair brothers: March and Julius.  They were like the cousins she never had.  March treated her like a younger sister, and she secretly developed a crush on Julius when she was just eight.

            Her father passed away from a heart attack when she was sixteen.  Augustus became an even stronger supporter of her and her mother.  In memory of his friend and the one who saved his life, he vowed to help Macey and her mother in whatever capacity they needed, even assisting her to attend the School of Visual Arts.  Her college plans came to a sudden end when she turned twenty and dropped out to care for her ailing mother, who passed away shortly after.  Two years later, she and Julius married.