by Nancy Gideon
She kept the light off and the blinds closed, but the door’s puny lock wouldn’t keep out anyone determined. When the knob rattled, she snatched up the heavy industrial flashlight she’d found in the supply cupboard, wondering if she could actually use it as a weapon.
To save Rico, she could.
A low voice. “Rico? Evie? It’s Colin. Open up.”
Those sobs she’d held onto broke lose as she scrambled to the door, fumbling with shaky hands and finally opening it. She flung her arms around the waist of the Terriot filling the doorframe and couldn’t make herself let got.
Colin guided her back so he could shut the door. “Hey, little girl. I got you.”
With that assurance, the strength left her legs. He swept her up in one brawny arm as she gripped tight about neck and waist, his attention turning toward the motionless figure on the couch. Tone flat, he asked, “Is he alive?”
“He’s hurt really bad,” Evie sniffled against the worn leather coat. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did just fine. Step on down so I can take a look see.”
When trembling limbs released him, Colin strode to the couch, fearing what he’d find as he knelt and issued an oath.
“Sweet Mother. What the hell did they do to you, Red?” He touched fingertips to the blood-streaked neck, breath gushing in relief when he found a pulse. Without looking around, he demanded, “Tell me everything you know.”
While listening to the shaky narrative, Colin marveled over the savagery his brother had endured. He’d done some brutal things in the past, but nothing like the horror they’d made of Rico’s fingers.
“Evie, I need something to wrap hands.” Quickly and silently, she provided one of the cotton towels. By the time he’d finished binding those defiled fingers, Rico was awake, reacting abruptly as if he were the enemy. Placing a restraining forearm against his heaving chest, Colin leaned close, touching his brow to the damp heat of his brother’s to murmur, “I gotcha, Red.”
An agitated snuffle of his scent. “Col?”
“Shh. I’m here.”
“Evie?”
“Your little tiger cub’s right next to me. She did good. Be proud. Let’s get you ready to travel.”
“Everything’s broken.”
“I know. You’re one helluva mess. We’ll put you back together. Rest easy.” Impossible when a volley of gunshots echoed in the outer warehouse. Colin’s forearm held Rico down. “It’s okay. Reinforcements. Unlike you, I’m not the Lone Ranger. I don’t go unarmed to a gunfight. I bring a bigger gun.” Giving a squeeze of his shoulder, Colin stood, drawing his own sidearm, should he need it, as he went to the door.
“Don’t leave us!”
Colin smiled to calm the girl’s alarm. “I’m not going anywhere. You and my brother are my job. Just checking to see that the rest has been taken care of.”
Before he could open the door, a brisk knock sounded on the other side followed by a brisk, “All clear.”
Another man stepped in. He smiled at Evie. “Hi. I’m Oscar’s dad. I’m here to make sure you get home safe.”
Dampness flooded her eyes. “They took my mama.”
“We’ll see you get her back.” He glanced toward the couch, barely registering his shock. “Can he be moved?”
Rico answered that. “Get me the hell outta here.”
* * * * *
Evie sat quietly in the backseat of Colin Terriot’s T-bird, Rico’s battered head resting in her lap to keep it still. He twitched and moaned softly, making her more frightened now than at any prior moment that she was going to lose him as she listened to the grim conversation from the front.
“It’s bad, Colin. I know he’s tough, but that head wound’s a bitch.”
“My brother is not going to die.” Spoken as if he had the power to make it so.
Babineau shrugged. “Even if he survives, his hand, his knee, his jaw, those things just can’t magically be put back together.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Nothing in that clinic is going to help him.”
“We’re going to Savoie’s.”
“That’s way out of the way and a rough drive. He’s not going to make it.”
Evie spoke up suddenly. “Take him to the Towers. To our apartment.”
The detective looked back over the seat, offering a sympathetic smile. “This isn’t something bedrest can cure. He’s badly injured.”
“Colin, take him to our apartment. Do it! Please!”
Cool green eyes met hers in the rearview for a brief, intense exchange. He offered a single nod.
Chapter 23
Evie raced into the classroom, drawing startled looks from teacher and students alike with her pale, bloodstained appearance.
“Ms. James, are you all right?”
“It’s not me, Miss Marstan. I need to speak to Pearl. It’s an emergency.”
When the two girls were alone in the hall, Pearl confronted her with that unnerving stare. “Whose blood is that?”
“Rico Terriot’s.” In her frantic exhaustion, she’d almost said her dad’s. “He’s in our apartment upstairs, and he’s going to die if you don’t help him.”
A pale brow lifted. “Me? What can I do?”
“I don’t know what you are, but I’ve seen what you can do. You healed my arm. Heal him!”
“I can’t.”
“You can! You brought Rico’s brother back from the dead!”
A cautious glance darted about to see if anyone was within earshot. “I’m not supposed to do those things. I’ll get into trouble.”
“You can save his life, and you’re worried about getting grounded?”
“It’s more than that. It’s dangerous. To me, to my family.”
“No one will know. I promise! Please!”
Shrewd eyes narrowed. “What’s he to you?”
“I’m hoping he’ll be my father.” Admitting it out loud felt wonderfully freeing. “Please! That’s something you understand. I’ve heard how hard your mom and dad looked for you, to save you. I’ve been looking forever for him. I can’t lose him.” She vowed not to cry, but tears hovered on the edge of her lashes like huge drops of dew threatening to fall.
“If I do this for you, you do something for me.”
“Anything! I don’t know what I have that you’d want, but anything!”
“You won’t talk to Oscar Babineau again.”
A boy? She was weighing her crush on a boy against Rico’s life?
“Done. Please. We need to hurry.”
“No one can see me.”
“Okay.”
* * * * *
Evie burst into the apartment, immediately looking to the figure on the couch. The sight of his head moving from side to side dropped a huge weight from her heart. To the two men, she announced, “Both of you go to my room down the hall and stay until I come get you. No questions. There’s no time. Please!”
Colin looked between her and his fast-fading brother then gripped Babineau’s arm, nodding toward the hall. Babineau, no stranger to the strange doings of his Shifter friends, conceded with a shrug. Once they were gone, Evie hurried Pearl in.
The girl whispered, “He can’t see me.”
Evie knelt beside the couch. Rico immediately turned her way with a whisper of her name. He was so pale.
“Hey, Angel. Where you been?” He could barely manage the words, his voice tortured by the damage done to his jaw.
“I’m here now. I need you to close your eyes. Can you do that?”
A wobbly smile. “I’m afraid I won’t able to open them again, and I want to see you.”
“Close your eyes and I’ll talk to you. Okay?” She put her small hand up, and he obediently slid his eyes shut as she covered them. She waved Pearl over and began speaking softly. “Mama was so scared when you left. She knew she hurt you and was afraid you’d never come back.”
“I’ll always come back to you,” he promised, strength failing.
<
br /> Evie nodded to Pearl, afraid there wouldn’t be enough time, but her young friend had no doubts as she removed the saturated towel and touched fingertips to his ragged brow. The horrendous gash closed behind the trail of her touch.
“Evie?”
“Shhh. I’m right here.”
“I feel strange.”
“It’s okay.”
Pearl stroked the side of his face, and the misshapen angle of his jaw grew strong again. He took a surprised breath and swallowed.
“Keep your eyes closed until it’s finished. Please!”
Panting softly, he remained unmoving as Pearl sought out each injury and repaired them with whatever mystical power she drew from. When she was done, she tapped his brow lightly, and he went alarmingly still.
“He’ll sleep for an hour or so,” the younger girl told her softly.
“And he’ll be fine?”
She almost smiled. “Well, he’ll still be a Terriot. My father would’ve had me fix that if I could.”
“Thank you!”
Pearl stood, saying sternly, “Keep your promise.”
* * * * *
How high the low had risen.
Warren Brady had made his money off the backs of helpless women and the stupid greed of unscrupulous men like her father. He may have started off as a good cop, intent on serving the law and the people of New Orleans, but somewhere along the line that civic-minded purpose had come with a price tag attached. He’d come a long way from skimming the pockets of those who visited Maisy J’s, using blackmail to persuade the reluctant or discredit the opposed as he gained in power and political significance. Slick, handsome, articulate and totally ruthless, he’d shot to the top, leveling any speed bumps along the way like a bulldozer. One hand was a fist enforcing the letter of law, while the other stealthily picked pockets and paid for the turn of a blind eye.
Shrewd decisions and a cadre of loyal, or at least frightened or well-paid cronies insulated him from the rumor mill while his devoted-single-father status endeared him to the press. A man on the rise, going places, and Amber resented the fact that her parents had paid for his ticket while he was readying to punch hers.
His address was impeccable. On a wide avenue in the Garden District, his rather austere Federal-style brick home with its haughty dormers and dramatic columned portico exuded status. A bristle of spear-like fleur-de-lis on his wrought iron gated fence kept the world at large from his lush lawn, swaying palms and the bamboo whispering under the spread of stately oaks.
Heavy gates opened. Two impassive employees met them by the wide front entrance, one gripping her arm and the other taking the keys to move the car out of sight in back. Once she’d crossed the threshold, would she ever leave again?
As she was escorted down the wide, Aubusson-carpeted hall, hushed laughter approached from an adjacent corridor. A youthful pair pulled up to let them continue, a pretty, full-figured girl and a tall, good looking collegiate-type young man, whose gaze caught and held hers for a quick flash of recognition before she was forcefully hurried on.
His high and mightyist was in his office, door closed, forcing her to remain standing, knees shivering, in the anti-chamber while he and Donny conversed about her and her family’s fate. She tried her hardest not to think of them, of Evie’s frightened tears, of her brother’s treachery, of what they’d done to Rico. That ended today. No more running, no more hiding, and most regretfully, no chance to tell Frederick Terriot how much she loved him. That their last words were ones of fear and misunderstanding was her greatest regret.
When she should have been worrying over her own possibly-short future, her thoughts were on Evie in the hands of unscrupulous men. She couldn't count on Auguste to step in when it mattered, and Rico . . . She shut her eyes but couldn't seal out how horribly they’d hurt him. Still, she had no doubt he'd give every ounce of all he had left for her daughter, even if it meant sacrificing himself to save her.
Minute by minute. That she could handle. Anything more would reduce her to begging for a nonexistent mercy. She already knew how Brady responded to tears and pain. They were his aphrodisiac of choice.
Time to stand instead of run. That determination would help her hold firm, even if her knees wouldn’t.
* * * * *
What a freaking vivid dream! Every inch of his body seemed to ache in response to the sadistic torments played out in his nightmare. He moved his hand, afraid he couldn’t, and felt the softness of Evie’s hair.
“Hey, kiddo. Why’d you let me sleep so long?” He stretched and released a jaw-cracking yawn before opening his eyes. He blinked in surprise. “Hey, guys. You don’t think it’s just a little bit creepy sitting over there drinking my beer watching me sleep?”
“Woulda been creepier if you were dead.”
Rico started to smile at his brother’s dry remark, but something in his steady stare sent a shiver through him. He put a hand to his brow, feeling along the ridge of a new scar. Was he brain-damaged and just imagining this miraculous recovery?
One thing was real. He sat up gingerly and pulled Evie into a tight embrace. “You okay, baby?”
“I am now,” came her muffled little voice from the hollow of his throat.
Poor kid! Her mother taken, her uncle killed. Yet she’d still gotten him to safety with a tenaciousness that amazed him.
“No more driving until you get your license.” The feel of her smile shook loose that helpless sense of love and fierce devotion as he vowed, “We’ll get her back.” To Colin, he demanded, “What did I miss?”
“Besides almost the rest of your life if it hadn’t been for this cool customer here?” He winked at Evie then relayed, “MacCreedy went out to search the sight. Nobody or no bodies home. Sanitized like nothing ever happened. We’ve got eyes on Brady.”
“Brady’s got his own personal army,” Babineau added. “Says it’s to protect his daughters after what happened to his wife, but more likely to keep the curious about his ethics at bay. It won’t be easy getting inside.”
“We’re already inside.”
The detective lifted a sandy brow at Colin’s flatly-spoken summary. “Okay. So, when do we move?”
“As soon as we get our important stuff tucked away and him through a shower.” At the buzz of the intercom, he stood. “That’d be the first thing.”
Mia Guedry Terriot arrived, quickly sharing an embrace and a kiss with her new mate before turning to his brother. For an instant, her toughened exterior faltered. “Are you all right?” Widened eyes took in all the gore, searching for obvious signs of injury.
“After you put her someplace safe, I’ll feel better. When I bring her mama home then things will be right.”
Evie tightened her grip on Rico. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Yeah, you are. You’ve had enough excitement for a school day. Mia will take care of you. She’s a good friend to both your mama and to me. And Colin’s used to saving my dumb ass.”
“That goes both ways, Red.” Colin turned his attention to Mia. “We’ve got to assume this place is compromised. I’m thinking Savoie’s.”
“No. They’ll expect that.” Rico nodded his head toward Babineau. “Go with him. Nothing’s safer and less expected than the sweet smell of suburbia. You take them with you.”
The detective blinked in surprise. “To my house? I don’t particularly like bringing trouble to my door.”
“Oh, believe me,” Rico gritted out, “this is as much your trouble as it is mine. And it’s damned time you took some responsibility for it.”
Frowning at his odd attack, Alain looked from his fierce brother-in-law to the young girl in question. An innocent in all their dramas. “Okay. You’re right. It’s the last place they’d look.”
Evie spoke up in agitation. “I can’t go there. What would I tell . . . Oscar?”
Babineau smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s used to this lot’s intrigues. And my missus will enjoy the company. A new sister-in-law, I hear.”
/> All Mia’s sharp edges softened. “Yes, I am. It’ll be nice to get to know her. I’ll take good care of your family, Detective, if you want to get rowdy with the boys here.”
“I want a piece of Brady. He’s got a lot to answer for. Both now and then.”
He didn’t explain that last, but Rico and Colin understood the reference even better than he knew.
Rico lifted Evie’s chin, unprepared for the effect of her misty eyes as he said softly, “You go change and put some things together. Mia and Tina will take good care of you.”
“I want to stay with you,” she whispered in a fractured little voice.
“I’ve got to go get your mama, and that’s no place for you. Knowing you’re safe means the most to both of us. Okay?”
A slight nod and Evie pushed away, running toward the bedroom, where she paused. At her beckoning wave, Rico followed. As she pulled out her carry-on bag and began filling it again, she spoke quietly as she folded.
“Come with me.” She paused, her back to him, her shoulders giving a tiny hitch. “I’m afraid if you go, I won’t see you again. Who’d take care of me if I lose both of you?”
He crossed the room in giant strides, going down on one knee, that knee that had been crushed beyond repair. She turned into his arms for a squeeze that smashed his heart just as completely. “We’re coming back for you, both me and your mom. I promise. She’s counting on me. So can you. Okay?”
A look decades more mature than her years questioned his words. “You didn’t take care of Uncle Augie.”
Direct as a rifle shot.
“He didn’t want my help. He’d already made his choice.”
Was that true? If he’d approached Amber’s brother with an offer of protection rather than in a jealous, territorial bristle, could he have saved all three? Had his invasion of their family’s lives made it impossible for Auguste to make any decision other than the wrong one? Was that on him, too?
“You just remember how he stood up for you, gave his life for you. He was a brave man who wanted to do the right thing.”
“You think so?”
Though it gagged him a little, he vowed, “I know so. Now, get your stuff together and go with Mia. The Babineaus are fine people. You’ll like them.” That choked him, too.