by Nancy Gideon
"You are one tough bastard, Terriot. No doubt," Poe mused. "How 'bout we talk about something else. How 'bout you tell us where to find your feisty little gal."
Stomach roiling, threatening to rebel, vision swimming, Rico started to whisper something, drawing Poe close enough for him to launch a wad of spit. When the traitor lunged back, cursing, Rico gave a hoarse laugh. "Fuck you."
Poe mopped his face and, without a word, reached toward the bench to select a hefty wooden mallet.
Chapter 22
"You fool! How's he gonna be of any use to us if he's unconscious?"
"Sorry. Couldn't help myself. When am I ever gonna get my hands on a Terriot again? It’s payback that’s the bitch, as my pal here is finding out."
"Use some restraint."
Drifting on a rocky sea of sickness, Rico forced his eyes open when his cheek was sharply slapped. Donny's face bobbed into view. He managed a smirk. "All this after I bought you a drink? Next time, I'll play harder to get."
Donny laughed. "I really do like you, Hoss. I'd have enjoyed being on the same side as you."
"We could be if you kill him and let me go."
"That's not gonna happen."
"So, what do you think is gonna happen here? You think any of us are coming out of this alive? But unlike me, you're gonna die screaming and begging like a little bitch."
The force of Donny’s punch almost put Rico’s lights out again, but he licked the blood from his teeth and smiled ferociously. "I have nothing to say to you. Even if I did, there's no way you could make me answer your questions."
"Why's that?"
"I'm a Terriot. The only thing stronger than our mountain is our will. Neither is going to crumble from anything you do."
"You'll think different when we're peeling off your skin. You must be worth something to somebody in your family."
The cocky grin never lessened, but his eyes gleamed coldly like polished agates. "You don't understand us. Not even a prince is special. We live to serve our king. No one gives a damn if we live or die, only that we die well. They'll give you nothing to save me, and I'll give you nothing to save myself. So, there it is. You've got squat."
"What about your girl? You care what we do to her?"
Rico stared Donny straight on, his words brutal. "We fucked. Just because I had sex with her doesn't mean I'd sacrifice my family for her. She's not my mate. She’s not my kind. She's not my problem. You've got no leverage."
"Really?" He grinned wide. "Say hello and tell me that again."
His worst nightmare, Amber and Evie being marched in by Gus Peters. From the set of Amber's expression, he couldn't guess if she'd heard him, but Evie's pale face was awash with tears.
Donny leaned close to Rico’s impassive features to murmur, "Kind of a game changer, isn't it?"
Rico's head butt sent him reeling back. Donny just laughed, rubbing the knot rising on his cheekbone. "I see I struck that nerve my pal Poe here couldn't find. All right then. Let's get to business. Who else do you have here in New Orleans other than your badass brother Colin?"
"Just us. We don't usually need more than two of us to shovel up crap like you."
His smile wavered slightly. "Why were you working with us on the docks?"
"Trying to find out who our enemies had on the inside," Rico nodded his head toward Gus, "besides that piece of shit."
"So, our secret is safe."
"You were seen with me in the bar. He was with Poteet when he died. You're not safe or hidden anymore."
"Let's say I believe you, that it's just the two of you, and neither of you know anything. So, maybe we can send you home, roughed up, sure, but guys like you dig showing off scars and telling about how brave you are, so I figure your rep will weather it. What about the other one, the brute?"
"I can convince Colin to go with me."
"So that leaves just our two favorite girls. Are they being cooperative, Gus?"
"No," he muttered, reluctance as plain in his body language as the hand print on his face.
"A shame." To Amber, he said, "A very important someone wants something I understand you have." He glared at her brother, "And she wouldn't trust you with the deets? What a shocker."
Poe stepped forward, sizing up Evangeline. "I'll bet she'd change her mind if we put this pretty little doll up on that other stand."
Auguste pushed Evie behind him. "You said they wouldn't be harmed. That was the deal. I bring them, you get what you want, and I take them with me when I leave, debt paid. Then we disappear."
"Change of plans," Donny said with a grin. "Boss wants to deal with her personally. Seems they have a history."
"I'm not going to tell him anything," Amber growled with that starch Rico feared would get her killed.
"Yeah, you will." With that claim, Poe swung the bloody mallet he held, the one that had mashed the Terriot prince’s right hand to suet, using it again to splinter Rico's knee then clipping his jaw with the back swing. He sagged in the restraints, never uttering a sound. "I can pound him into a right nice pile of Swiss steak, Missy, and then start on the kid."
"No," he heard her state firmly over the pulse thundering in his head, over the freight train of agony tearing through his body. "You don't harm them. Let them go. I know what he wants and where it is. Let them go, and I'll get it for you.”
No, Amber. Don't be a hero. You don't know what kind of people these are! He tried to speak but couldn't form the words.
"Well now," Donny drawled. "That would be right nice of you. Tell you what. Your brother here can wait with them and see they're set free when the big man gives the okay. They don't know enough to be a danger to us, and it don't look like your boyfriend there is going to be up to chasing after us any time soon."
"No, Mama! Don't go!"
The sound of Evie's fright gave Rico the strength to raise his head to see what would always be the worst screw-up of his life—the woman he loved sacrificing herself for him and the child he was supposed to protect.
Amber focused on her daughter, brushing back her hair and away her tears. "You stay here with your uncle and make sure nothing happens to Frederick, okay? Can you do that for me? You make sure Rico is okay. And I'll be back soon. You stay with Rico."
Their gazes met as Amber straightened. The look in her eyes would haunt him forever, that look of trust and forgiveness, neither of which he deserved. Then she turned to Auguste to vow, "Anything happens to either of them—"
"I'll see to them, Ammy. You do what needs to be done. No foolishness. Just give him what he wants."
Donny regarded Rico with a sincere smile. "It's been a pleasure to know you and see you work. Pity we couldn't have been on the same side."
Rico couldn’t manage a rejoinder or even work up a spit.
Then, as Gus led Evie toward them and Amber waited by the door like the doomed noble, Donny leaned over to Poe and said softly, "After we're gone, kill them."
* * * * *
Amber sat silently as the car sped back into New Orleans. Stoicism would serve her better than hysteria. They wouldn’t be moved by tears or the pleas of an anguished mother. These men didn’t care about her or her child or, for that matter, her brother. Because they knew their boss would end them in a heartbeat if they let his chance to cover his tracks escape him.
“Where to?”
“The Towers on the waterfront.” To retrieve her insurance. What difference did it make now? She’d never return there to live her happily-ever-after with Rico Terriot. She’d be lucky if any of them lived beyond the next few hours. She couldn’t think of that. Minute by minute, that’s how they’d survive.
* * * * *
"Everything's going to be all right, Evie," Auguste assured, trying to put his arm about the distraught young pre-teen. She pulled away violently and ran to where Rico was trussed and tortured. Her arms circling him, she burrowed against his chest. For all her fragile weeping, Rico noticed the quick, clever industry of her fingers, working loose the buck
les to the straps at neck, waist and hips as she pretended to clutch him frantically.
"It's okay, Angel. It'll be okay," he mumbled awkwardly.
"Don't you call her that!"
Poe chuckled at Gus's indignation. "Just what we need. Family drama. Won’t do them no good."
"What?" Augie blinked at him in amazed ignorance.
"No witnesses. Not ever. Say your good-byes to the kid."
Evie wailed in fright, crumpling in a heap, frantically working the straps at Rico's knees and ankles.
To Gus, Poe said, "You might want to do her first as a kindness, so she don't have to see what I have planned for him. That, you'll probably want to watch."
For the second time in his life, Auguste Petitson took a righteous stand.
"The hell you will! She's my blood, my kin. And you're not touching her."
Poe didn't look surprised, murmuring, "Okay. Go with her then." He swung the mallet in a fierce arc, cracking it against Auguste's skull, blanking his expression and glazing his eyes in an instant as he dropped soundlessly where he stood.
Evie clung to Rico in earnest as Poe turned in their direction. "You can save your tears, Missy. I got no conscience."
"Then you'll know where I'm sending you," Rico snarled.
He roared, and his eyes blazed red hot, the muscles of his back and shoulders flexing mightily as his sudden, wrenching move ripped the boards holding his arms outstretched from the stand. One caught Poe in the right temple, the other sent him to the floor in a spray of blood, shattering the orbit of his left eye.
"Quick, Evie. Get me loose."
"Uncle Augie . . . "
"You can't help him now, baby. We gotta get outta here."
Sniffling back her sobs, she turned to the straps holding his arms and hands to the boards. Rico groaned when they fell away then wrapped her in a clumsy embrace.
"We gotta get your mom. Look out front and see if your uncle's car is still out there."
While she ran to look, Rico took a grim assessment of his situation. He was a mess, right knee and hands crushed to unusable bits, jaw probably broken. But as long he was breathing, he was going after Amber.
"It's out there, Rico." Evie drew up inside the doorway, taking a good look at him for the first time, seeing him for the disaster he was. "Now what?"
"Get the keys."
She glanced down at her uncle's bloodied and motionless form. "I can't."
"Yes, you can, baby. Don't look at his face, just look in his pockets."
She knelt, coming up with not only the keys but the phone Donny had taken from Rico to get their number and trap them. She looked to him for direction. His balance spiraled all over the place, threatening to drop him next to the other two the second he tried to put weight on his right leg. Biting back a groan, he lifted his arm.
"Come here, Angel. I need to lean on you some more."
She fit beneath his arm, letting him ease his weight atop her slender frame. She struggled but partially supported him. They shuffled across the room in awkward hobbling steps until she opened the door and rain pelted in, stinging his wavering will back into focus.
The car might as well have been miles away.
"You know how to drive, Ev?"
Her shoulders rose and fell. "I can learn."
Though the effort brought pain pounding through his face like continued swings of Poe’s hammer, Rico yelled to her over the howl of the weather, walking her verbally, because he couldn't manage the actual steps himself, through a crash course behind the wheel. After a few failed starts, she brought the vehicle in a wide circle to stop in front of him. He reached for the door and was almost yanked off his good leg.
"Put it in Park, Evie!"
"Sorry!"
With the seat up so she could manage the pedals, Rico was forced to crawl in back. Hanging onto the headrest, gasping for control of his waxing and waning consciousness, he guided her out of the lot, where she stopped at the junction of the road.
"I don't exactly know where we are,” Rico panted. “Did you see how you got here?"
"Left, I think."
She'd just begun to make a lazy turn onto the road when the rear door glass shattered. Poe had somehow managed to get a shot off. As Rico stared blankly at the spray of crimson on the opposite shattered window, Evie looked in the rearview and started screaming when she saw the blood he could feel on his face.
"Drive, Evie. Just cuts from the glass. Go!"
The car shuddered then tore down the wet pavement.
It wasn't from the glass. Rico knew it, but didn't want to scare the already anxious driver. His greatest fear was passing out while she was behind the wheel, even though she managed a fairly steady trajectory once she found the wipers.
Several vehicles raced by, going fast in the opposite direction toward only one destination Rico could think of. No way would a twelve-year-old be able out maneuver them in a car chase.
Struggling to keep his tone understandable-the son of a bitch had likely smashed his jaw and now, might have taken part of his head off-Rico told her, "Let me know the next time you see a building."
"There's a big warehouse up ahead."
"Okay. Good. You pull in, slow and careful." He tried to sit up to take a bearing but couldn't. Gravel crunched under the tires. "Can you get out of sight?"
"I can go around back so they can’t see us from the road." She turned to speak to him over the back of the seat, and suddenly the front end took a jarring bounce. She twisted around, panicking for the first time. The vehicle began a telling limp. "I hit a curb, Rico. I think the tire’s flat."
"Keep going, Angel. Just take your time."
They crept through the rutted lot, edging into deeper shadows where she pulled into a wide loading dock and shut off the engine with a jolt and growling protest while still in drive.
"No one's here. I'll see if we can get inside."
Rico didn't stop her. If she set off alarms, he'd welcome the company. He faded in and out until the door pulled open.
In answer to his quick defensive move, Evie said, "It's just me. I found something to help you. Can you sit up?"
When he finally managed, she made an inarticulate sound of horror at seeing his head. Obviously worse than he thought. Something bumped up against the door.
"Help me get you on this thing then I can drag you inside. It has wheels."
An office chair? No, a cart high enough for him to slide, belly down and pulling from his elbows, onto it. That exhausted the last of his reserves. By the time his eyes blinked open again, it was to stare up into a huge balloon-like face at least ten feet high with a wide white grin and eyes wide with manic frivolity.
Holy hell! Where had he ended up?
The jarring motion of the cart took him past a fun house of odd characters, colorful plumed birds, and alligators the size of a houseboat. All seemed to be enjoying that good time he wasn't having. Had all his brains leaked out after all, leaving him looney?
Looney . . . that was it. These were oversized parade creations. They were in some kind of Mardi Gras warehouse.
"There's a break room up here," Evie whispered as if those huge bubble heads could hear with ears much larger than his own. "That's where I got the cart. There's a couch you can lie down on until you feel better."
More likely until he died. No, he couldn't do that to this tough little kid who was trying to save his life.
"Okay," he managed to whisper. The side of his face felt as big as the rosy cheeks on the grinning cartoon creatures.
The room was cool and smelled like stale coffee. There was indeed an old leather couch that looked only a little more inviting than the cement floor.
"Maybe I can help lift you," Evie began, doubtfully eying the distance between the top of the cart and the cushions. To spare her the wrangling, Rico used his elbows to push off and roll, falling onto his back and off the edge of his grasp on reality.
Darkness. A cool touch on his brow. The wonderful sweetne
ss of water at his swollen lips. He swallowed, hoping he wasn't sucking down any pieces of his teeth.
Evie went to the sink where she'd been washing out a stack of cleaning cloths. She brought one to press gingerly to his brow, her eyes going teary when he moaned. At least the bleeding wasn’t as vigorous as it had been in the car.
"I'm sorry, Rico. I don't know how to make you feel better."
"Don't worry ’bout me. Got my phone?"
"Right here."
With no way to hold it, he asked her to find his brother in contacts then hold it to his ear.
"Colin." His voice was a mumbling growl, almost unrecognizable.
"Who's this? Rico?"
"Hey. Need you to come get me."
"You okay? What's going on?"
"I'm in trouble, Col. Can you hurry?"
"Where are you?"
“Don't know."
A pause then a worried, "Dammit, Red. Are you in the city?"
"I-I don't know. Warehouse with those things you ride on in parades."
"Things . . . you mean floats?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll turn on the GPS in my phone. They're looking for me and Evie. Don't let them see you. Be careful."
His tone sharpened. "Who's looking for you?"
"They'll have guns."
"Have you been shot?"
"Just hurry."
His brother’s voice deepened. "How bad is it?"
"Don't stop for take-out."
"Sonuvabitch. You hang on. I'm on my way."
"Be watching for you. You watch out for them."
* * * * *
Evangeline was terrified beyond clear thought. She’d tried to be brave for Rico, but now that he’d lapsed into unconsciousness, she didn’t have to pretend anymore. Worry over her mother was a gnawing ache in her belly. The image of her uncle stretched out on the floor like a scene from a horror movie she wasn’t supposed to watch haunted her. But worse was the dread that Rico would die before help arrived.
She didn’t know what to do for him. Vulnerability quickened tears fright couldn’t force. After placing her jacket over Rico’s blood-streaked upper body, she sat on the floor, hugging his forearm, cheek pillowed on his bare skin, its comforting warmth giving her something to hold on to.