“What?”
“A mambo. Someone on our side,” he says.
“Mamie?” I ask.
“No. I don’t want her involved.”
“Marie,” I say.
King nods. “We’ll go to her tomorrow and see if she’s willing to help.”
“I think she will,” I say, placing a kiss on his lips and pulling away.
“I don’t know. It’s a big risk for her.”
I pull leftovers out of the fridge and place them in the microwave. “It’s a big risk for all of us,” I say. “But it’s worth it. And I think Marie will see it that way too.”
After we eat, we lay in bed and King tells me more about his troubled teenage years. I struggle to envision him in the stories he tells. I just don’t see this man capable of doing those things. Of course, no one would look at me and know the awful thing I did either.
Eventually, I fall asleep in his arms and have intense dreams of being chased and barely escaping a shadowy monster in the Louisiana swamps. I jerk awake, sitting up in bed, gasping for air. Only, the air doesn’t taste right. It is thick and smoky.
My eyes adjust to the light in the room and I see smoke billowing in under the door.
“King!” I shout, jumping out of bed. “King!”
He rolls over and rubs his eyes. I can tell when he knows something is wrong, because he sits up, shoulders rigid, his gaze landing on me.
“Fire,” I whisper.
King flies out of bed and slips into his shoes. “Get your shoes on,” he says. I follow his directions, grab my bag and throw my charging laptop inside.
He touches the door handle to make sure it’s not hot, before turning it. Looking back at me, he tells me to get down on the floor and put my shirt over my nose and mouth. I do it without question. When he pulls the door open, smoke billows in. My eyes burn and I lose sight of King for a moment. My heart swells in my chest, rattling against my ribs. I try to take short, shallow breaths. King is coughing as he reaches for my hand.
“Come on,” he yells. We crawl through the hall where King sticks his head out and looks to the front and back of the house. “It’s in the kitchen,” he says. “Stay here.”
King darts into his office and is back in a few seconds, holding a large wooden box. He takes my hand and pulls me toward the front door, both of us on our feet now. After unlocking the deadbolt and swinging the door open, we tumble onto the porch. Both of us gasp for clean air as the smoke pours out behind us.
I feel his strong arms wrap around my waist. He gets me to my feet again and walks us to the street, both of us coughing, with tears carving paths down our soot covered faces. For a few seconds, we just watch as the smoke billows out the front door, it fills the front windows, and the flames rise through the roof and lick at the black night sky.
Then, King pulls his phone from his pocket and dials 911. He gives them the address and hangs up. We stand on that sidewalk, watching helplessly while we wait. I wrap my arms around King and bury my face in his chest. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I say thank you to whatever higher power was looking over us tonight, whatever woke me from my dream, allowing us to escape.
Soon we hear the sirens and then see the flashing lights of the truck as it pulls onto his street. Two men guide us further away from the house and into the street as the others jump into action. Neighbors come out of their houses now, watching from their porches with fascination and concern.
King watches and I can’t determine what he’s feeling inside. All I know, is that I feel helpless.
It doesn’t take long for them to get the fire under control and eventually put it out. The firefighters pour out of King’s house, their gear covered in black, but safe. Smoke still rises up from the roof, but they tell us it will do that for a day or so.
An older man comes to speak to us. He asks if we have somewhere we can go for the night. King is silent, staring at the house. I answer all the man’s questions and make a mental note that they will return in the morning to investigate the cause of the fire.
King finally looks at the man. “We know the cause,” he says. “Someone tried to kill us.”
The man looks shocked, hands over a card with his contact information and says if that’s true, we should go to the police. King lets out a laugh with no humor and turns away.
“Thank you,” I tell the man, as they hop back onto the truck and pull away. The flashing red lights disappear around the corner and the street is dark again. Almost all the neighbors have gone back inside, probably back to their cozy beds, fearless and ignorant to the threat that haunts this city.
“Now what?” I ask, my voice a tiny sound in the now empty street. King’s back is to me, his hands wrapped around the top of the chain link fence surrounding his front yard.
“I don’t want my family involved,” he says, barely turning his head in my direction.
“Marie?” I ask. King nods and heads for his car.
The ride there is eerily quiet. Most of the city is asleep at this hour. We sit at otherwise empty traffic lights, waiting for our green and I wonder if on any other night, he would have just ran the light.
We park in the alley behind Marie’s shop and lean near the back door. King bangs on the door three times and steps back. In the low light of the Quarter, here in this place, he looks dangerous. His green eyes flash when a light flickers on over our heads.
“Who is it?” we hear through the door.
“King,” he says.
The sound of two locks clicking and the door creaking open echoes down the alley. Marie wears a thin robe and a scarf around her hair. She looks us over and waves us in without a word.
“What happened?” she asks, pulling my bag from my shoulder and giving me a tight hug.
King helps himself to a glass of water as she curls into a soft leather chair.
“There was a fire at King’s house,” I answer. The look in her eyes tells me she already knows why. “We got out, but the house… I don’t know. It looked bad.”
“The Bondye Saints?” she asks.
King takes a seat next to me on Marie’s patchwork sofa. “Fucking right it’s the Bondye Saints,” he answers.
“These people have got some balls, no?” Marie asks. “First with Papa and Eve. Now this? No one in their right mind would fuck with Mamie’s family.”
“I guarantee they’ll regret it,” King says, swallowing down the last of his water. “I’m sorry. Do you want some?” he asks me. I nod and he heads back to the kitchen.
“Well, at least y’all made it out safe,” Marie says to me. She reaches over and covers my hand with hers, squeezing tight.
King returns with my water and we all sit in silence for a minute. It’s not uncomfortable, just deeply needed so that we can process what we’re all doing here.
“We need your help,” King finally says to Marie. “We believe the ritual to sacrifice that little girl is going down on Thursday. We know of some land the Bondye own. We’re going in whether you come or not, but I know we’d be much better off with you by our side.”
Marie’s eyes hold King in place for a few seconds before she blinks and looks away. With a small nod of her chin, we know that she’s in. King and I both let out the breaths we’d been holding.
“You two need some sleep before you take on the world,” she says with a small smile. “That sofa folds out to a pretty comfy bed.” Marie gets up and disappears down her hall as King and I work to open the sofa bed. She reappears, her arms full. “Here’s some pillows and blankets. We’ll regroup in the morning.” She laughs while looking at the large clock hung on her wall. “Well, later in the morning.”
“Thank you, Marie,” I say. “For taking us in, for everything.”
“It’s no problem,” she says. “King is almost family and that means you’re part of this crew now too. Goodnight.” She smiles and shuffles off down the hall.
There is no more talk as we slide the s
heet onto the mattress and throw the pillows down. The two of us climb onto the bed where King pulls me against his chest so tightly my ribs ache. After a few minutes his grip slackens and his breathing gets slower, deeper. I lay my arm on top of his, link our fingers together and fall asleep within seconds.
_______________
I wake alone in the pull out bed. Sun is pouring through the alley window, lighting up the whole room. I stretch and roll onto my back, watching the dust float in and out of the sunlight like a snow globe. I hear a noise from the kitchen and roll out of bed.
“Coffee,” I mumble. “I need coffee.”
Marie laughs from her place at the stove. She motions to the half full coffee pot. “Mugs are in the cabinet above,” she says.
I make my cup and take a seat at her table, resting my chin in my hand because I’m not sure I have the strength to hold it up. Just as I’m about to ask about King, he pushes through the back door carrying a bag.
“Hi,” I say, with a smile on my tired face. He returns the smile and I’m instantly alive again.
“Hey,” he answers, tossing the bag down on the floor and kissing my lips. “Can I get in on that coffee?”
“Help yourself,” Marie says.
“I went to my mom’s house and grabbed some old clothes I still had there. Also went by your apartment and got the last of your stuff from there,” King says while stirring sugar into his coffee.
“Thanks.”
“This will be ready in a few minutes if y’all are hungry,” Marie says.
My stomach growls so loud, King grins. “I think we’ll take you up on that,” he answers.
“Can we shower first? I feel so gross,” I say. King’s smile grows even wider.
“Together?” he asks. “It’ll save us some time and cut down on water usage.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re concerned about water usage,” Marie says. I laugh as she kicks us out of the kitchen so she can finish lunch.
In the small tiled room that is Marie’s bathroom, King turns the water on and lets steam fill the space as we undress. He turns us toward the mirror, my naked body in front of his. His lips press down on my shoulder as I watch the reflection of his hands glide over me. He exhales a slow, heated breath down my neck.
“I know things seem bad right now,” he says. “But I’m so thankful we’re safe—that you’re safe. I just can’t imagine…” His words trail off just as the fog erases us from the mirror.
He picks me up and places me on the counter so fast, my head spins. I barely have time to grab onto the towel rack for balance before he drops to his knees and gives me the best orgasm I’ve ever had, using only his mouth. As soon as I come, he is on his feet and pushing inside me. King’s arms wrap around my back, pulling me closer as he fills me. My fingers claw into his shoulders as he holds me tight. It doesn’t take him long to reach his climax. Every muscle pulls tight, every inch of his body connected to mine.
King buries his head in my neck, his quick breaths fan over my steamy skin. Tears gather in my eyes and I try to blink them away. I lose the fight and they fall over my cheeks. King stands, separating us and I feel overwhelmed with an emotion I can’t pin down. More tears come and he wipes them away, kissing my eyelids.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. I love you too, Valentine.”
His face scrunches up into a beautiful mess of twisting lines. “You never call me that,” he says.
I shrug and hop off the counter, pulling him into the shower with me. “It felt appropriate.”
Back at Marie’s small round table, King and I sit across from each other while she sits between us. The food smells delicious and with the way my stomach is burning, I can’t wait to dig in.
“Glad y’all could make it back,” Marie says with a smirk. “Though it’s probably cold by now.”
“Thanks for lunch, Marie,” King sings, teasing her.
“Save it, Casanova. Just eat.”
After our bellies are full, I insist on helping Marie with the dishes. King says he’ll pick up the bed and make a call to his insurance company. With our hands in soapy water, I tell Marie about our plan and how we need to get to the assessor’s office today. She says she can’t come because of appointments all afternoon, but she’s definitely down to storm that Bondye ritual.
“I’ll do another protection spell tonight on the both of you,” she says, stacking the dry plates in her cabinet. “Then it’s all up to fate.”
I dry my hands on a towel and let the water out of the sink. “I hope fate is on our side,” I say. “There’s so much at risk here…” I stop when King runs into the kitchen holding a picture frame.
“Who is this?” he yells at Marie.
“What? Who?” she asks.
“This!” King says, pointing to a man I only recognize from the blurry video at the police station. I gasp and cover my mouth. “Who the fuck is this?”
“That’s my dad’s brother, Andre,” Marie answers. “Gable’s father.”
20
“I KNEW THAT I recognized him,” King says, his grip on the frame turning his knuckles white. The long muscles in his forearms bulge and flex under smooth skin. I know he’s trying to keep his cool for our sake. “That son of a bitch attacked Laney.”
Marie shakes her head, a frown on her pouting lips. “What? No. When?”
“Two guys waited for me at my apartment one night,” I say. “They knocked out the street lights so it would be dark, attacked me in the alley, choked me until I passed out, and left me there. Broke into my place and stole all my research, my computer.”
“No,” Marie says. “Why would he do that?” she asks, throwing her arms up before resting her hands on her hips. Her scowl morphs her pretty face into something darker and more sinister.
“He’s obviously part of the Bondye Saints,” King says. Marie shakes her head, but it feels like an automatic reaction instead of being emotionally fueled. “It’s the only explanation. Which means Gable is probably involved too.”
Marie slumps into one of her kitchen chairs, one shaky hand covering her mouth, the other in her hair. Her eyes dance around the room, not really landing on anything.
“But Gable helped us. Why would he help us?” I ask. “He’s the one who told us to check the other assessor offices around the lake.”
King shrugs. “I don’t know, but I bet he’s the one who put that symbol under your bed.”
A chill slides down my spine as I think about that night and my lack of memories. There’s an underlying grit to King’s words and I know he hates thinking about it as much as I do.
“I just can’t believe…” she says.
“The police have video footage of that night,” I say, keeping my voice soft. I don’t want this to feel like an attack on her, but she needs to know the truth. “He was definitely one of the men who attacked me. King recognized him, but couldn’t remember how he knew him.”
Tears pool in Marie’s eyes. “You think he had anything to do with Papa and Eve?” she asks, looking to me and then King. “And your house?”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. We all know. King throws the picture onto the table.
“Come on,” he says to me. “We’ve got to get to the assessor’s office and get that map.”
I nod and wrap my arms around Marie’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” I say. “We’ll be back.”
“It would be better if you don’t say anything to your uncle,” King says to Marie. “We don’t want them to know we know.”
She swipes the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Her movements are quick and angry as she stands, knocking her chair over. “You two be careful,” she says. “We’ll regroup tonight and then tomorrow? We shut this shit down.”
_______________
This time, our trip to the assessor’s office is successful. We can barely contain ourselves as we hop into King’s car and take a look at the coordinates of the Bondye, Inc. property. I can’t really make anything out on t
he map, it just looks like random shapes in shades of gray on our low quality copy of the original. King studies it closely, his finger tracing lines until he recognizes a road.
“I know where this is,” he says, tapping the paper. “Let’s go now.”
“Now?” I ask, my voice high. While I hadn’t exactly thought about our next step, jumping into this right away is not something I even considered. I know that we’ve got to keep moving, keep pushing, but I wasn’t mentally prepared for this. Apparently, King can see all of this clearly in my expression.
“Any edge we can get on them will help.”
I nod and squeeze his hand. “Yeah, you’re right,” I say.
King pulls out of the parking lot and turns onto the street. We ride in silence for a few minutes and I can’t help but wonder if we’re in over our heads. Whether the power of Voodoo is real or not, the ritual is real enough. There is a little girl’s life at risk here and I don’t want to go in knowing we could have done more to save her if we fail.
“Do you think we should call the police?” I ask.
King stares out at the road before us, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “I’ve thought about that too,” he admits. “But who says they’d even believe us. All we have are a bunch of conspiracy theories. And honestly, looking at it from their perspective, the only thing tying all these things together—the attack, the kidnapping, Papa and Eve—is us. We could easily be considered suspects.”
My mind spins, knowing he’s right and loving how King always seems to be thinking ahead, planning, working out the what-ifs. “And if they held us for questioning, then there would be no one to stop the ritual,” I say.
King nods and presses the pedal down, speeding us away from civilization and into the swamp.
After a half hour of roads growing more and more narrow and eventually turning into dirt, we reach a dead end. There’s a metal gate with an unreadable faded sign hung over it. King parks the car and we both get out to investigate.
We’re close to the water. I can smell it in the air, and somehow the heat is even more intense. The grass is high and overgrown all around us. The trees hang low and it feels like we could be swallowed up here, disappearing into the green.
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