As the day had begun, it had taken me a while to stop reaching for my phone, wanting to check in with my brothers and cousins, worrying that things were falling apart without me. I had to keep telling myself it was just one day, and they could handle things, but the more time I spent with Henri, seeing the city through his eyes, the more I fell under his spell and forgot about all the responsibilities that weighed on me.
When it came time for dinner, I considered our options. “I could take you out anywhere you want,” I told him, “or I could order food, turn on the heaters on the balcony, and we could sit out there and eat, just the two of us.”
16
Henri
I didn’t have to think about my answer for even a second. “I like the second choice. The balcony sounds perfect.”
“Then I’ll order dinner, and we’ll find a bottle of wine and enjoy the evening.”
I wanted to tell him that no matter where we went, I would enjoy the evening as long as I was with him, but would he know I was being sincere? And if he did, would he like it?
As we sat on the balcony, enjoying the best etouffee I’d ever had and an amazing king cake Remy had ordered from his favorite bakery, I knew without a doubt I was falling for him. Leaving him was going to break my heart.
Remington offered me the last petit four from our dessert tray. As I savored it, he said, “Tell me what happened that brought you to New Orleans.”
“You want to know more about how I ended up selling myself?”
He shook his head. “Financial desperation did that. I want to know what happened that made you stop reading thrillers.”
I hadn’t told anyone the whole story, but for some reason, I wanted to tell him. “I grew up in Birmingham. My dad skipped out on us when I was a toddler. I don’t remember him, and I’ve never tried to find him. My mom was a nurse, and she was amazing, both at her job and at taking care of me. I never doubted how much she loved me. We weren’t well off, but we had enough. I was always quiet. I preferred reading or just being in my imagination to hanging out with groups of kids, so I didn’t have a lot of friends. When people bullied me, my mom showed up at school and didn’t leave until the situation was resolved to her satisfaction.”
Remington smiled. “I think I would have enjoyed seeing that.”
“Probably. College was better, but two years in, my mom got sick. After a number of tests, she was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, a rare blood disorder where bone marrow scarring causes decreased blood cell production. She was in a lot of pain and too fatigued to continue working, so I left school and came home to take care of her.”
“I’m so sorry.” He took my hand and ran his thumb over the back of it. His touch was so soothing.
“I tried to find a full-time job, but she needed more care than I could give her in the hours left to me, so I did a few part-time gigs for minimum wage. Her disease progressed more quickly than average, and her best hope was a bone marrow transplant. I was in the midst of getting tested when she got pneumonia. Myelofibrosis makes patients more susceptible to infection, and she never recovered.”
Remington pulled me onto his lap. “Let me hold you while you talk.”
I nodded, swallowed hard, and kept going. “When she died, I lost the one person who’d always supported me. I was left with all the medical bills, no job, and crushing depression. She’d gotten behind on mortgage payments, and ultimately, I lost the house. I felt like I was drowning. I’d lost touch with my friends from college, and I didn’t have anyone in Birmingham I could rely on.”
I paused, and Remington ran his hand up and down my back. “It’s okay, cher. I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of now.”
I really wanted to believe that. “When I realized there was no way I could make enough money to get out of the hole I was in, I ran. My cousin told me he could give me a job here, so I used the last of my money on a train ticket. When I realized he wanted to be my pimp, I was too desperate to say no. I did what I had to, but it was awful until I met you.”
I’d fought hard not to cry, but the tears burning my eyes won out and began to roll down my cheeks. Remington wiped them away with his thumbs, but his gentle concern only made me cry harder.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t have any problem with the job you decided to take, but there are safer ways to do it. No one should have to be out on the street at the mercy of anyone who drives by, and no one should be pulled under by medical bills. Tell me what I can do to help.”
This dangerous man, who probably scared most people, could be so achingly sweet. “You’re already being very generous. The money I’m making with you will go a long way to get me back on my feet. I’ll find a way to deal with the collection agencies that are looking for me. I know I could talk to a debt counselor, but I wasn’t in a place where I could handle anything after I lost my mom.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. “Of course you weren’t, cher. You were grieving. You deserved time for that.”
“I know, but… I just gave up and ran.”
“Sometimes getting out of a bad situation is all you can do.”
“But you seem like you’d never back down from anything.”
Remington shook his head. “In my line of work, I can’t show weakness, but that doesn’t mean I always choose a head-on confrontation.”
He held me, and I let myself sink into his strength as he stroked my hair. The sensation was soothing, hypnotic. When I’d cried myself out, he gently gripped my chin and made me look up at him. “I lost my mom when I was twelve. It was… I know what grief can do to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. That was twenty-three years ago, and I didn’t have to deal with it on my own.”
I’d hated how alone I’d felt once my mom was gone. “We were never close to any other family. My mom’s parents disowned her when she married my dad, and obviously we didn’t have anything to do with my dad’s family. Mom had a sister who lived in Baton Rouge, but we rarely saw her.”
Remington kissed me then. His lips were soft and gentle, but I still felt warmth all the way to my toes.
“No one should have to go through what you did. What do you owe for the medical bills?”
I wasn’t going to tell him that. I didn’t want him thinking I was asking for more money. “The money you’re paying me for these weeks will make enough of a dent in it that I can get back on a payment schedule if I can find a job.”
“I can help you with the job search. I could also pay the bills for you.”
“What would you want in exchange?”
He frowned and studied my face for a moment. He started to speak, then closed his mouth and shook his head.
“What?” I shouldn’t ask, but I felt desperate to know what he’d been about to say.
“Nothing. You wouldn’t owe me anything more than I’ve already asked.”
“No. I won’t just take your money. That’s not an option.”
He looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. “Fine, but I will give you some contacts to help you find a job that’s more suited to you.”
Shit. Was he saying I wasn’t any good at this? No, he couldn’t possibly have been faking how much he enjoyed us being together. Why would he? If he wasn’t satisfied, wouldn’t he just say that. “You… um… don’t think I’m any good at my job?”
Remington shook his head. “You’re incredible at the job of satisfying me, but you don’t belong out there on the streets. You’re too innocent, and you’re going to end up hurt and taken advantage of.”
“I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a while now.”
“I believe you. You’d have to be strong as hell to get through what you have, but I don’t think that’s where you want to be.”
I sighed. “You’re right.”
“Then let me help you.”
“If I’m going to get another job, I want it to be a legal, legitimate one. There�
�s no point in leaving what I’m doing for—”
He laid a finger over my lips. “Why would you assume I would find you an illegal job?”
“Remington, I may be innocent, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re involved in something that isn’t completely within the law.” I hesitated. I didn’t want him thinking I’d been investigating him.
“It’s true that not all my business ventures would be approved by law enforcement, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty of contacts who could hire you to do something absolutely aboveboard.”
“I don’t want you to think… It’s not that I think I’m too good for that. I mean look how we met, but if I’m going to use the money you’re giving me to change things, I want to do it right.”
He brushed my hair back from my face, cupped my cheeks in his hands, and kissed me gently again. It was sweet, warm, and all-consuming.
When he pulled back, he was looking at me like I was something to be cherished. If I hadn’t already been falling for him, I sure as hell would have fallen headlong right then.
“Let me help you,” he said, voice low and rough. “I want everything to be right for you.”
“I’m fine with you giving me contacts so I can find a job, but I won’t take charity from you. I know you think I can’t handle things because I ran away, but I—”
“I think you’re handling things the only way you could. No one should be expected to work miracles.”
“I wish I could.”
He smiled. “Come on. Let me take you to bed.”
He stripped me slowly, then devastated me with sweetness and heat as though it were his mission in life to bring me pleasure. No man had ever treated me like I mattered so much. As I drifted to sleep, I knew I would dream of things that weren’t possible.
17
Remington
Over the next few days, I spent far too many hours working, though I had Loyola’s Patisserie deliver a king cake for Henri every day. I also made time to take Henri out to dinner, once to Arnaud’s with Corbin and a man we were hoping to recruit and tonight just us at Cafe Amelie. After dinner, he’d fallen asleep in the car, and I’d carried him to bed.
As I’d undressed and showered, I thought about how I could help Henri. We hadn’t talked about it again, but I was determined to find a way to take care of his mother’s medical bills. The money didn’t matter to me. I had more than I could ever use. Why should he be forced to suffer? The system that made it impossible for him to get out of debt was the same system that had led to me betraying one of the cardinal rules of families like mine and had provided X with a secret he could hold over my head.
Bob Gayle, a man who should never have been allowed to have a medical license had taken advantage of elderly people who couldn’t afford the prescriptions they needed. We still didn’t know how many had died because of his actions, so when I had a chance to get myself out of trouble by helping the police capture him, I gave them all the evidence I’d collected in my quest to shut down Gayle’s operation.
As far as I knew, no one had figured out what I’d done until X did. If he went public with that information, it would ruin me and my family. I didn’t think he would try that. Even though X had come out as the head of a security firm, the public still had no idea what the firm actually did. I could expose him as much as he could expose me.
I had to keep everything in balance with X, with my family’s enemies, with our allies, and that took so much effort I didn’t see how I could give Henri the care he deserved. And yet, I couldn’t imagine letting him go. I climbed into bed with Henri, pulled him closer to me, and he sighed softly as I pressed my lips to the back of his neck and drew in his scent. I stayed wrapped around him as I drifted to sleep.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the buzzing of my phone woke me. I turned over to get it from the nightstand, hoping I wouldn’t disturb Henri. It was Lance. “This better be a fucking emergency.”
“I’ve got a lead. I want to share what I found.”
“You can share your shit in the morning. I’m sleeping.”
“It is morning,” Lance insisted. “It’s like four a.m.”
“You can talk to me when I’m ready to get out of bed.”
“But I’m on your porch right now.”
“No, you’re fucking not.” It was all I could do to keep my voice low. I wanted to shout at him.
“The streetlight is shining just right for me to see into your little library. Let me see if I can tell what you were reading.”
“Don’t move.” I hung up on him, slipped from the bed, pulled on a pair of sleep pants, and made my way downstairs. I saw him peering in the window. He had the nerve to wave with a big smile on his face. I wanted to punch him, but that was a common reaction for me around Lance.
I opened the door, and he just stood there with Tony on his shoulder. He really did take that damn monkey everywhere. “Why the hell did you come over here in the middle of the night?”
“Technically, it’s not the middle of the night, though I guess that depends on when you think the night starts and when it ends, but—”
I grabbed him by the front of the shirt. Tony scolded me loudly as I yanked the two of them into the house and closed the door. “It’s got to take serious work for you to be this fucking annoying.”
He shook his head. “No. It comes naturally.”
“Jesus, I need a drink.”
“Sounds good. Pour something for me too.”
I reached into the cabinet for a bottle of bourbon I kept for special occasions. This time, I was using it to prevent a special occasion—the death of my brother. “I’m not giving you anything until you tell me why the hell you thought this information was worth waking me up.”
“You hardly ever sleep anyway. Your insomnia has been terrible lately.”
“Which makes you waking me up that much worse.”
“You will find this interesting.”
I tossed back most of the bourbon I’d poured and took a slow breath.
“Oooh. That’s the good stuff.” Lance opened a cabinet and got himself a glass, but I pushed the bottle out of the way as he reached for it. “No way in hell am I sharing this with you. Grab a beer from the fridge if you’re thirsty.”
He huffed, ignoring me as he opened my liquor cabinet and pulled out a bourbon that was quite spectacular but not as fine as what I was drinking. He poured himself a glass, glared at me, and downed it in one go.
He grinned as he wiped his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Unless you came here hoping to die, you better tell me what you have to say, then get the fuck out.”
“Charles Landry was vocally opposed to the family getting in with these gunrunners. Likely that’s why he was shot the other night. Word on the street is that Clark is in debt to the weapon’s dealers and that’s why he has to move their product for them.”
“That’s very significant news, but there was no reason it couldn’t have waited until a decent hour. You’re telling me this now because…”
Lance rolled his eyes. “What does it take to impress you? I thought you’d be intrigued.”
“I am, though I could give the information better consideration if I’d had a few more hours of sleep.” As annoying as he was, his enthusiasm was somewhat endearing. More so when it wasn’t four in the morning. “It is very good information. We need to figure out exactly who Clark owes and why.”
“Agreed.”
“What do we know about Charles? Do you think Clark set him up?”
“No, I think the dumbass confronted the gunrunner and said they weren’t going to do the work.”
“The Landrys really don’t have a lick of sense, do they?”
Lance laughed. “Hell no, and that’s why we’re going to crush them.”
18
Henri
I woke to the feeling of someone touching my leg, then a finger poked my calf. At first, I thought I was asleep on the couch in my cousin’s apa
rtment, but I quickly realized the mattress and covers were much too soft. I was at Remington’s house, but why was he poking my leg?
“What are you…?” I turned over and saw a small monkey in a pink t-shirt sitting on my bed. I scrambled up and yanked the sheet over me.
“What… Where did you come from?” Was I actually expecting the monkey to answer? I’m not sure it would weird me out anymore than him being there in the bed with me.
The creature studied me, then made some tutting sounds and jumped up and down.
“What have you done with Remington?”
He looked at me and grew more insistent with his bouncing as he pointed toward the door.
“He went out the door?”
I wasn’t sure why I thought the monkey understood me, but I did.
Surely Remington hadn’t been hiding this little guy from me all this time. If he had a pet, I’d know by now, wouldn’t I?
I really couldn’t see Remington having a pet monkey. The animal must’ve escaped from somewhere and gotten in. Was there an open window? I didn’t think Remington would do anything that compromised his security like that.
I slid from the bed, holding the sheet against me as if I didn’t want the monkey to see me naked.
I fumbled around in the drawers where Remington had insisted I place the clothes he’d bought me, found a pair of pajama pants, and pulled them on. I grabbed a t-shirt as the monkey bounced up and down on the bed. I hoped he’d follow me. I didn’t want to leave him there alone.
“Do you know where Remington is?” I asked the little creature.
He danced around excitedly, then hopped off the bed and skittered away down the stairs. I followed him. As I did, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. That meant Remington wasn’t alone. I almost turned around and headed back to the bedroom, but I had to know why there was a monkey in the house.
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