I froze. “I can’t do that. He can’t know about this.”
“I don’t have anyone else I trust to keep you, and if I get caught… you can’t be here.”
“I won’t let you take the blame. I’ll stay and help you.”
“If there’s a raid or someone calls the police, murder won’t be the only charge brought against us. You’ve got to hide until you leave with Freddie, whether it’s with Beau or somewhere else.”
“What about Teeny?”
“I’ll put her with Evie. If anything goes down, she’s young enough to be okay. Now come on, I’ll take you to Beau’s, and we’ll decide what to do.”
We crept into the passage, and Roland pulled out a key, locking my room. A door slammed a little further down, and we both jumped, setting off in a run. Around two corners and down another narrow passage, and we were at the opposite door. I stopped as he helped me into his overcoat and hat.
“Just go out and stay close,” he said. “I’ll come looking for you as soon as I’ve made sure everyone’s settled.”
I slipped out into the cold night and walked west a block, then south toward the Quarter. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I waited, leaning against a wall and watching as the long-cloaked men in hats slowly lit the smoky streetlamps. My hair was tucked inside the coat, making it was difficult to tell I wasn’t also a man.
In the darkness, my whole body shook. I wasn’t sure what I felt, other than numb. I thought of my attacker lying dead on the floor, and I wasn’t sorry. He would never hurt me or anyone else again.
Fear came next. No one knew what he’d done to me, and he was a wealthy man. A white man. I was nothing, an orphan, mixed-race. And I’d killed him.
A carriage rolled by, and I ducked my head. Then a couple walked past, but they were too involved in their conversation to notice me. I was beginning to worry when I heard my name being shouted in a whisper and ran toward a dark figure in an overcoat.
“It worked,” Roland said when I reached him. “He’s secure in your room for now, and everyone thinks you’re in there asleep. They won’t disturb him.”
The horror of it all had me strangely giddy, but Roland took my hand and pulled it into the crook of his arm. “Don’t be afraid now,” he said “I’ll take care of it. Come on.”
We set off at a brisk pace walking away from the theater. After several blocks he slowed, and we began to stroll. Then he shook his head and almost laughed.
“You did it. That bastard thought he could get away with it over and over, but you did what I could never do. I actually feel like celebrating.”
I stopped walking. “It’s wicked to feel that way… isn’t it?” My stomach was so tight.
He shook his head. “Perhaps. But you can’t say you wish he were still alive.”
I was quiet several minutes, thinking. I remembered my arms acting on their own, almost instinctively. I killed him the same way I might slam my shoe against a palmetto bug. Repeatedly.
“I’m glad he’s dead,” I said. “But what now?”
Roland exhaled and took my arm again, leading us in a slow stroll toward Beau’s apartment. We were past the square, near the taverns along Prytania, and I studied his face, which had become serious. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and at last he spoke.
“Now we’re going to continue on like nothing happened. You’ll leave with Freddie and stay in France. It’s the only place you’ll be safe until we’re sure no one knows about this.”
“I want to stay with Beau,” I whispered.
“Tonight?”
“Forever.”
Roland bit his lip and looked at the cobblestones ahead of us. We continued walking in silence.
“Then you have to tell him. He has to know. And then you can decide what to do from there.”
“I can’t do that.”
We were standing outside Beau’s building. Roland led me up the stairs to the large, white room I remembered so well. We knocked, but no one answered. And after several minutes, Roland turned around.
“He’s not here, but I think I know where to find him.” He took my hand, and we ran back down the stairs and into the night. “There’s a bar where Mastiff’s men like to go. I’m sure he’s with them. Drowning his sorrows.”
I stopped and pulled my hand back. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what? What Beau will say or of being caught?”
“All of it. That I did it. That it made me happy, and that I have to run. That I’m a murderer, and I don’t care.”
“You’re a survivor. You did what you had to do to protect yourself and the ones you love from a monster. A predator.”
Tears were filling my eyes. “I want it all to go away. I want it to be like none of this ever happened.”
“But it did happen. You can’t push it away. You have to face it, accept it for what it is, and then put it behind you. It’s a part of you now.
My insides recoiled at the thought. “I can’t do that. I don’t want this to be a part of me.”
“Too late for that. It happened and there it is. If you pretend it didn’t, it wins.”
I didn’t answer. I crossed my arms over my middle, and turned away. “It’s too much.”
He stepped forward and pulled me to him. “It’s safe to admit that. But you will get past this.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. I’m not as strong as you.”
Instantly he released me and laughed. “What? You’re strong enough to kill a man. You’re dangerously strong.” He slid a curl off my cheek. “You’re just so afraid all the time.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m only afraid. All the time.”
“Oh, Hale,” he breathed. “Look at all the things you’ve survived. And you’re alive.”
“Yes, I’m alive. And this is what I have to live with.”
He took my hand, and we started walking again. “It’s going to work out. It simply has to. We won’t let the bad guys win.”
“In our world, they’re the only ones who win.”
He spun to face me. “Then, dammit, we’re changing our world!”
I reached for his arm again, and we continued for a bit in silence as I thought about him and what I knew of his past. He was abused like me, but unlike me, he wasn’t trapped. Men could go anywhere, do anything.
“Why did you never leave New Orleans? Why would you stay here when you could’ve left?”
He exhaled and didn’t answer, escorting me in silence down the alley. In the distance I heard that discordant tone again, blasted across the shimmering streets, one note still wrong. That train.
“I thought I’d go to Chicago. Like your father,” he said. “Start a new life in a new town.”
I waited, listening, but he said no more.
“Well,” I nudged. “Why didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer, instead he glanced at me with warmth in his eyes, sadness, too. My stomach tightened as I realized what he’d never said, the things he’d never spoken, but he’d demonstrated in so many other ways.
“You stayed for me.”
He shrugged and tried to swagger. “Well, not entirely for you. I also had this fabulous offer to be the musical director at a… hmm, somewhat decent cabaret in town.”
“Somewhat decent,” I repeated.
“You have to admit, darling, between your voice and my songs we really took the old girl over the top. Take tonight, for example. You were phenomenal.”
“You didn’t trust Gavin to keep his promise. You stayed to make sure I was safe.”
Roland sighed and patted my hand. “Gavin was weak when it came to his brother. Too much water under the bridge, too much guilt.”
I frowned. “Guilt?”
“And besides, your mother got me out of more trouble.” His voice became tender. “She saved me.”
I studied his handsome face. There was so much he knew about my past that I didn’t, and now I was leaving him in a terrible position.
“I can’t leave you like this
. I can’t put you at such risk.”
“I have always been at risk. At least now it’ll be easier. I won’t have to be constantly watching your back, too.”
He tried to laugh, to act cavalier, but I wasn’t convinced.
“There’s nowhere else for you to go,” I whispered, and for a moment he didn’t answer. But with a wave of his hand, it was gone.
“Now that sounds very dire indeed.” His smile returned along with his playful arrogance. “I prefer to look at it as limited mobility.”
I shook my head and looked down. He put an arm around my shoulders. “It’s hard for you to see anything clearly right now, but that’ll pass.”
“I don’t know what you want me to see.”
“That I love this city. I love to make music. And dance.” He waved his hands and rotated his slim hips. I watched his nimble steps as he lifted my arm and tried to do a little spin. He was as graceful as Frank, but I didn’t feel like dancing.
“I’ll handle this, and I’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?” He pulled me to him by my waist, and I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against his cheek as we swayed back and forth.
“I do.”
“I’m more worried about the show now,” he said. “You’re my muse, you know.”
The thought of saying goodbye to him overwhelmed me. My first love who always made me smile. My gallant music man who taught me to survive.
“Oh, Roland, I wish I could be more like you.”
“Darling, I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Now come on. We’ve got to find Beau.”
Chapter 21
We picked up the pace, and he led me to an avenue that was bright and filled with music and laughter. It was good to be surrounded by so many people unaware of what I’d done. I could almost pretend I hadn’t done anything.
Roland went to the bar, and I looked around the room. Men and women in evening attire laughed and danced in a bouncy motion as a band played in another part of the room. It was similar to the music I’d heard with Beau, and our night together flooded my memory.
Everything about this plan was a mistake. I hadn’t been thinking clearly when I’d agreed to come here looking for him. Beau knew I was leaving, and now I had no choice. I couldn’t stay. He couldn’t know what I’d done, and if I hadn’t come here, he’d simply move on, believing I had rejected him.
The thought made me ache. The memory of his broken expression on the catwalk before my finale brought tears to my eyes. Perhaps if I just told him, gave him a better reason for my departure…
Roland broke my thoughts, handing me a glass of champagne. “To the end of a nightmare.” He clinked his glass against mine. “And your future in France.”
I forced a smile and took a sip, thinking again that this was a mistake.
“He’s got to be here,” Roland said, scanning the room. “Several of the men are. Let me wander around a bit and see if I spot him.”
“I don’t know. I think we shouldn’t have come.”
But he was gone, making his way through the crowd. My shoulders were tense as I also scanned the room. Jeffrey the new stage hand was here, as was another of Mastiff’s men, Punk or Bubba. They all had ridiculous nicknames. He was grasping a patron’s arm and laughing loudly.
I turned back and there he was, the figure I knew so well, hunched over a pint of beer. Beau. I looked closer and his cheeks were wet, the hurt I put there evident on his face.
“Oh!” The sound was out of me before I could stop it. I wanted to run to him, comfort him, but I didn’t.
“Perfect.” Roland was back at my side. “Shall I leave you now or wait to be sure you’re all set?”
Fear clutched at me again. I ducked into Roland’s side. “I can’t stay. We shouldn’t have come here.”
“He’ll take you back.” Roland’s voice was low. “Just try.”
“I can’t hurt him more. Not when I have no choice but to leave.”
I bit my lip and tried to sneak another look, but Beau’s eyes caught mine. Instead of his normal happiness at seeing me, pain was all I saw, and I took a hiccupped breath as he turned away, placing his elbow on the bar and using his hand to hide his face.
I couldn’t help myself. Tears were in my eyes as I watched him struggle with his own, and I had to go to him.
“Beau?” I placed my hand on his arm.
“Why are you here?” His voice was husky, and he wouldn’t look at me. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your trip?”
“I can’t right now.” My voice was thick, too.
“Why not?” He looked at me, his blue eyes so sad, I almost couldn’t bear it.
“Oh, Beau,” I whispered. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. Ever again. But…” I turned to the bar and saw an empty shot glass beside his pint. “Don’t do this,” I said. “Don’t go back to this kind of life.”
He moved his arm away and picked up the glass. “What business is it of yours?”
I dropped my head. No words could tell him how I felt.
He stood and seemed ready to leave, but then he stopped and turned back, catching my arm. I didn’t resist as he led me toward the door, even when Roland stood and searched my face for whether I needed help. I shook my head and followed as we went outside and around the corner into a wide alley lined with boxes and trash cans.
The air was cold and wet, and the metallic stench of stale beer, old food, and faint urine met my nose. He released me and we stood apart with him facing the street outside the alley. It was filled with the noise of tavern music and laughter and the sound of carriage wheels. I studied his back, his broad shoulders, his light brown hair.
“Now explain it to me,” he said, walking closer. “Explain how all the things we said, the things we did, meant nothing to you.”
I glanced up at him, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. “I never wanted to hurt you,” was all I could say.
I couldn’t tell him that I ached to take him back to his big, white room and help him into bed. That I wanted to love him and then stroke his sweet brow and hold him close, let him sleep in my arms and tell him it would all be okay in the morning.
Because it wouldn’t be okay in the morning. The clock was ticking on what I’d done, and when the sun came up, I had to flee New Orleans.
“I wish I could explain. You just have to believe that there’s a very good reason for what I’m doing. It really is for the best.”
“For the best,” he said. “So many secrets. So much I can’t know about.”
“I’m so sorry. When I met you, I knew to stay away.”
“You never intended to give us a chance.” He caught my arms and pulled me close, his voice breaking. “Why did you lead me on?”
I wouldn’t meet his eyes, and as I struggled to hide my tears, it all came out. “You weren’t supposed to happen. I had a plan, a promise. And I couldn’t fall in love with you.”
His fingers relaxed and he gently rubbed my arms before stepping back. He watched me a moment, thinking. “But you did fall in love with me.”
I turned away. “I can’t think of just myself. I never could. I have to look out for Teeny, and now… Now something’s happened and I have no choice. We have to leave.”
“Tell me what happened. For once. Is it about her?”
I studied him, his earnest expression, but I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t drag him into this and risk his life, his future. His freedom.
“No, it’s something I’ve done. But the result is the same. I have to go, and I have to take her with me.”
“Then let me take you out of here.”
“It’s not that simple anymore. Freddie can take us far away, across the ocean. Where no one will find us. Ever.”
He caught my chin and gently lifted my face. His blue eyes searched mine for anything he could grasp. Anything he could change.
“You weren’t sick those two days,” he said. “You were with Guy. Is he threatening you again?”
<
br /> I moved away, turning my back as I crossed my arms around my middle. “No. He’s gone.”
“Did he hurt you? Is that what it is? I’ll kill him.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”
Silence filled the ally, and somewhere off in the night, a dog barked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s over. And now Freddie’s the only one who can get me far enough away to be safe.”
“Does Freddie know?”
I shook my head. “Of course not.”
In the tense silence, Beau walked to me and gently pulled me into his arms. “Oh, Hale,” he whispered. “What have you done?”
My arms slid around his body, and for a moment, I let him hold me again. My eyes were damp, but a few breaths and I started to relax. I rested my head on his chest as his hand smoothed my hair. It was just like before, like always.
“There’s no way you can help me with this. I wish you could, but you’ve got to move on and stop thinking it’s your job to protect me. Or that we’re somehow…” I couldn’t think of the right word.
“Connected?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I mean, yes.”
But it was almost unbearable to speak. I didn’t want him to ever stop thinking those things. We were connected, and I never wanted to break that. But I couldn’t change what had to happen. If I stayed, if I were arrested, what would happen to Teeny then? What would happen to me?
“You have to forget about me,” I whispered.
He was silent for several moments. Then he shook his head. “It won’t happen,” he said. “I’ll never forget about you. I love you.”
My shoulders drooped and I exhaled, lifting my hands to my face. He reached forward and pulled me into his arms again, his mouth searching for mine. I gave in and slid my hands around his neck, into his soft hair. For a moment, I tasted his sweet kisses, now mixed with the harsh syrupy flavor of the whiskey. I held him as he kissed me again and again. At last he broke away and rested his face against mine.
“You still love me.” I could hear his smile.
I was half drunk from his kiss and from fatigue, and I found myself nodding.
Rouge (#1 in the Cheveux Roux series) Page 22