by Meghan Quinn
“She is walking around like someone sucked the life out of her,” Goldie responded, hands on her hips and ready to fight.
She was five foot nothing, hence Jett’s nickname for her, and had zero meat on her bones, but I didn’t doubt her ability to put up a good fight.
“I bet she’s fine,” I responded, feeling more gutted than ever from hearing about Lyla. The person who’d sucked the life out of her was me. Another soul I was able to damage.
“She’s not fine, Kace. She won’t talk to me about what happened, so you better start speaking.”
“We fucked. Then I left,” I breathed out, skipping over all the intimate details and moments we’d shared.
“I don’t believe you,” Goldie responded.
“You don’t?” I grabbed the back of my neck. “Check my wallet. You will find one less condom.”
Stomping her foot like a child, she said, “No, I don’t believe that’s all that happened.”
“Come on, it’s not worth it,” Jett said to Goldie, pulling her into him.
“I’m so sick of dealing with his evasiveness. It’s about time you got over yourself, Kace. It’s tiresome being friends with someone who thinks the world is going to end any day.”
“Glad you finally realized we shouldn’t be friends,” I replied, really wishing she would leave me alone.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yup,” I said, resting my head on the wall.
“Let’s go,” Jett encouraged her.
“This is so stupid. Why do we have to walk on eggshells around him? What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”
Like a fucking semi careening into a wall, realization slammed into my chest. “Holy fuck, what’s today?” I asked, looking up at Jett.
The sad look on Jett’s face confirmed my thoughts.
It was Madeline’s birthday, and I’d fucking forgotten. I’d been so caught up in drowning my sorrows I’d forgotten it was her birthday.
“What’s today?” Goldie asked, looking at both of us. “What the hell is going on?”
“I need to leave,” I replied, grabbing jeans and a T-shirt off the floor.
“Sober up first,” Jett said, tossing the water and bread at me. “Then you can go. Being half drunk won’t help.”
Even though I wanted nothing more than to leave, Jett was right. In order for me to take care of business, I needed to be sober, so I grabbed the water and bread and forced it down.
Chapter Eighteen
My past…
“It’s about time,” I said to Jett as he met me at the base of the stairs nestled in the servants’ quarters at the Lafayette Club.
“I had some business to attend to,” he said, buttoning the front of his suit jacket. He gripped my shoulder and looked me in the eye. “You don’t have to do this, Kace.”
It was the conversation we had every time I wanted to do something that dealt with the loss of Marshall Duncan. Jett always gripped my shoulder and told me I didn’t have to do what I had planned, and I always countered him. I didn’t foresee the interaction changing in the near future.
“I do,” I said, leading him out the back door.
We were headed to the garage when we were stopped by a whistle from one of the girls. I turned to see the Jett Girls tanning in the backyard, topless of course, drinking margaritas and gossiping. It was their day off and they were taking advantage of it. I averted my eyes from their breasts and continued forward.
There were four Jett Girls now: Babs, Pepper, Tootse, and Francy. They’d all been found by Jett and invited to the club to change their current way of living. Tootse and Francy were a couple—annoyingly cute to see together, actually. Jett had found them at a local X-rated club, where they used to make out topless in front of a bunch of horny men. Francy was a fucking fantastic bartender and Tootse had been taking fashion classes and was a pretty good seamstress. Once Jett had found out about Tootse’s talents, he’d put her to work on some costumes for the girls. I was pretty impressed with her hidden talent.
Pepper, on the other hand, was a tough one. She had a serious dark side that rivaled mine at times. I could see it in her eyes, the damage that had been done. The only information I’d gotten from Jett about Pepper was he was able to pay off her pimp to help her come to the Lafayette Club. I didn’t want to know how much Jett had paid. All I knew was Jett had saved her from an atrocious position she hadn’t put herself in.
Surprisingly, all the girls got along. That had been one of my biggest fears when stepping into my position at the club—that there was going to be a lot of catty bullshit from the girls—but it was an unspoken rule they didn’t fight with each other. Instead, they supported one another. They all came from a rough background and with that knowledge, they formed an unbreakable bond.
On occasion they gave me sass. They most definitely pushed my buttons, but then again, I think they found pleasure in such interaction. But they knew my boundaries and never crossed the line. They didn’t ask about my personal life. They knew I had demons and they left me alone.
At first, I thought Jett’s plan to help save these girls was a little far-fetched, maybe a little disturbed, but I got it now. I saw what the club was able to provide them: a safe sanctuary from the sins that once clung to their skin every day. Now they were able to thrive, to make something of themselves. It was refreshing to see their change in demeanor, to see hope in their eyes. If only the club had had the same effect on me.
“Where you going, boss man?” Babs called out, directing her comment to me, even though I wasn’t technically their boss, just their manager.
“None of your business,” I shot back. They knew better than to ask about my daily routine. Unless we were in the Toulouse Room practicing or in the gym working out, they didn’t talk to me. This wasn’t because I was a dick. It was because I had nothing to say to them.
The girls giggled from my short answer and made scary noises, making fun of me.
“How do you deal with his moodiness?” Francy asked Jett, who was trailing behind me.
“Bourbon,” Jett answered. “Lots of fucking bourbon.”
“Fuck you.” I chuckled.
“We’ll miss you,” Tootse said. She wiggled her fingers at us. I shook my head at the biggest blonde in the house. She could be really dense at times. Thank God she was pretty.
I slipped into Jett’s black Range Rover and settled behind the wheel. Jett quickly sat in the passenger side and shut his door, silencing the catcalls the girls were giving both of us.
I pressed my fingers to my eyebrows. “Why you thought outnumbering us with women was a good idea, I don’t know.”
“Not one of my better decisions.” Jett smirked, buckling up.
“You have no idea what it’s like to try to wrangle them together and get them to focus.”
“I do know. I watch you do it.” Jett laughed, referring to the cameras he had in the room. “I’m glad I’m not doing it.”
“Yeah, you just make me do the dirty work.”
“Isn’t that how it’s always been?” he asked. “I’m the mastermind, you do the grunt work.”
His comment was said with humor, but it was very true. Ever since I’d known Jett, he had come up with schemes for the trouble we loved getting in, and I always followed through with the deed. We were never caught. It was a small high we’d lived on when we were young. Now that we were older, our schemes were heavier in weight. Instead of covering up misadventures, we covered up sins and helped people escape them.
“Where are we going?” Jett asked, breaking my thought.
“I don’t really know.” I shrugged. “I was thinking about going to Target.” I really had no idea where to shop.
“Target? Seriously?” Jett asked with disapproval.
“Shit, I don’t know.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think. “I don’t know what to get a little girl.”
“You don’t have to get her anything,” Jett replied. “You give them
money already.”
“It’s the least I can do,” I said, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.
Madeline didn’t have a father in her life because of me, so I’d taken it upon myself to make sure she was well taken care of from a distance. The checks I earned at the Lafayette Club went straight to her every month. I dropped a pile of cash in her mailbox every month with a note of sorrow and regret. It was her birthday, and I’d decided it was a day I would help celebrate, so I was out to get her a gift but had no fucking clue what a little girl wanted.
“Why am I coming?” Jett asked. “You should have brought one of the Jett Girls.”
“That would have warranted too many questions. I don’t want questions. I don’t need them.”
“I can understand that. So instead it’s going to be us shopping for a little girl?”
“Yup,” I responded, holding back a smirk. “Should be a good time.”
“Or a major clusterfuck,” Jett shot back. “We’re not going to Target though. Head to the French Market. You can at least get her something with meaning of the city she lives in.”
“Are you getting sentimental on me?” I teased.
“Do you want my help or not?”
“I do. I just didn’t expect you to get into this.”
“I’m not,” Jett said. “I’m just making sure you don’t look like an idiot.”
“She’s not going to know it’s from me,” I replied. I turned onto St. Charles Street and headed toward the Quarter.
“Explain how that’s going to work,” Jett said.
I felt Jett’s questioning eyes on me. He always had to know every aspect of a plan he was a part of, and it drove me crazy sometimes. I just wanted to execute my plans without talking about them. But with Jett, you had to make sure you checked all your boxes and took every possible precaution. He wouldn’t be the brilliant business man he was today if he didn’t have that kind of mindset. Too bad it irked me every fucking time.
Blowing out a frustrated breath and gripping tightly on the steering wheel so I didn’t lash out, I said, “I’m just going to drop it off at her front door. Do you think I personally hand them money every month?”
Jett knew my monthly paycheck went to Madeline and Linda, and he’d never said one word about it. He was a silent partner when it came to my drunken sin, and it was an uncommunicated rule we were both in this together, that I was the one who’d killed a man but Jett had covered it up. And for that, we were both at fault. So Jett accepted the fact that my money went to Madeline; he had no qualms about the exchange.
“You’re really going to leave the present on her doorstep? You don’t think that’s creepy in any way?”
“Fuck, you know it’s creepy, me sneaking around and delivering things to them, but what other choice do I have? Show my face? You know I can’t fucking do that.”
“It might help you get past the pent-up emotions you have,” Jett suggested.
I guffawed. “Oh, okay, so I go up to them and hand her a present? A complete stranger? Or should I introduce myself as the man who ruined their lives?”
“You haven’t ruined their lives,” Jett countered.
“Bullshit—”
Jett cut me off. “They could be completely fine, and you wouldn’t know that because you sneak around, hiding and living under a cloud, hoping for your death to come along quicker. Get your fucking head on straight and go see if they are truly hurting.”
It was the same rage Jett went on every few months once he couldn’t stand seeing me hurt anymore. I knew what my sulking did to him. I knew the position I put him in, and I felt bad he had to deal with my past.
“Drop it,” I warned. He was pushing my buttons, and I was about done with it.
Shaking his head, Jett leaned back in his seat. “I don’t get you, man. Why do you keep punishing yourself?”
“Why do you keep asking?”
“I have no clue,” Jett said softly, ending our conversation.
Silence rang as I found my way through the Quarter to the open market where vendors from around the city gathered to sell their homemade souvenirs and crafts. It was a tourist destination, but also, when you looked closely, past the knock-off sunglasses and corny T-shirts, you could find real treasure.
Once I found a parking spot, I cut the engine and studied the bottom of the steering wheel as I contemplated what I wanted to say to Jett.
“I know what happened that night was my fault, and I know you’ve done everything in your power to protect me, Jett, and I appreciate that.”
“It was for selfish reasons,” Jett cut in. I knew fully well Jett had protected me because he couldn’t lose me, not after he’d lost his mom.
“I know,” I responded. “When it comes to my life, you can protect me from the law, but you can’t protect me from my state of mind. The day my fist connected with Marshall Duncan, my life was taken from me, and it’s about time you accept that. The man you once knew no longer exists.”
With that, I got out of the car and headed toward the market, not turning to see if Jett was following me because I knew he would be. He never left my side.
The market buzzed with midday excitement, but there was nothing exciting about the task at hand. All it did was open me up to another kind of darkness that I welcomed with open arms.
***
“This is stupid,” I said, judging the present I tried to wrap. “It looks like a kindergartner wrapped this.”
“Then maybe she will think it’s from a friend.” Jett chuckled next to me.
“Why did you make me wrap it?” I asked, looking at the birthday candle-covered wrapping paper that was crunched together and held down by a long piece of tape.
“Because it was too comical to pass up,” he answered.
“You’re a dick,” I replied, fumbling with the wrapping paper. “If it was in the shape of a box, it would have been easier.”
“It’s a flat handbag,” Jett pointed out. “You just had to tuck the corners in nicely.”
“What are you, the fucking wrapping police?” I asked, trying to smooth out a wrinkle in the paper.
“No. I also don’t have time to sit around in the dark with you while you wait to drop off the present. Just do it already. I’m ready to eat dinner.”
“Missing a meal won’t kill you. You’re starting to look pudgy.”
It was the furthest thing from the truth. Jett was as toned as I was, thanks to our sparring sessions in the gym and the rigorous workouts I put him through.
“Pushing your luck, Haywood,” Jett grunted, answering emails on his phone.
I looked at the gift again, nervous. Was I doing the right thing? I thought of it as an act of kindness, the least I could do for Madeline, but how would she take it? How about her mother?
Jett and I had wandered the market for hours, examining every table until we found a gift we thought she would enjoy. I’d purchased a handmade bag that was pink and purple and made out of a fun printed fabric. It was very juvenile looking but perfect for a little girl. I didn’t know what she would do with a handbag, but I thought it would be a nice, bright gesture. Before I’d wrapped it, I slipped a note in the bag, a note of encouragement.
Love is unyielding, loss is undeniable, and love will help you move forward, which will show your true courage in life. Keep moving forward, Madeline.
Words of wisdom I should have followed myself. I was too far gone to recover. I’d accepted my sentence, but Madeline still had a bright future ahead of her.
“Drop it off, Kace. I’m not going to let you skip out on this part.”
He knew me too well.
With reluctance, I opened the car door and got out, not letting the slam of a door echo through the silent night. I waited until the streets of the city emptied to drop off my gift.
I’d parked around the corner to go unseen. Silently, I made my way to the front of their house, stopping behind a tree to see if their lights were out. The streetlamp was r
eady to go out. I made a mental note to tell Jett about it so he could get someone from the city to replace the bulb. Jett had connections and could make things happen quickly, even if it was as simple as changing a light bulb.
The house Madeline and Linda lived in was small and quaint with green shutters and peach walls. Potted plants hung in front of the windows, and a cobblestone walkway let me to the front door.
Silently, with very little breath, I eased toward the door and placed the present on the welcome mat. Before I retreated, I observed the bright white door with wrought iron fixtures. The cottage-type house was a classic in New Orleans, warm and inviting.
I started to walk away but felt a pair of eyes on me. I stopped and looked around to see if anyone was eyeing me from their windows. All the houses were dark with curtains closed over the windows, blocking the view of any onlookers. It was dark enough I knew no one would be able to see who I was, but the feeling of eyes on me still felt eerie. I headed back to the idling car.
Once I got in, Jett said, “Did you drop it off?”
I nodded and buckled up. I took one last look at the neighborhood and inhaled a deep breath of relief. One birthday down, an eternity left to go.
Chapter Nineteen
My present…
Pound after pound, pain shot through my head, making my eye twitch and my brain seize. My stomach rolled with each step, but the pain was welcome. After a week of an alcohol-induced coma, I was feeling the effects.
I brought a water bottle to my mouth and relished the cool water that slipped past my dry lips and down my scratchy throat. Jett forced me to eat something, but I was regretting my intake of food as nausea once again embraced me.
I hated that I’d scared Goldie, that she’d feared for me. Jett knew my limits and knew I could slip into a much darker hole than where he found me, but Goldie hadn’t seen that side of me before. She tried to be tough most of the time, but I’d seen fear in her eyes when she’d looked at me today, an expression I never again wanted to see on her pretty face.