Prince of Fools

by Nancy Gideon

  Very quietly, he whispered, "Yes."

  Hearing the resignation without blame in his voice, Amber stretched up to kiss him, deeply, fiercely, because he didn't deserve what she insisted he accept. A prideful male Terriot, not used to making concessions to any female. But he bent under her conditions, even though he didn't like it, even though it brought a disquieting worry to chafe between them.

  He palmed her face, holding her still above him. His eyes gleamed in the dim light. His words were calm, firm and unbending.

  "I understand, but I don't agree. I want you to know that. Everything inside me is saying grab the two of you and get the hell out of here, to take you up to our mountaintop where no threat could ever reach you. That's what I'd do if it were up to me. But it isn't. I don't have any right to make those demands on you. Not yet. Just be warned. If I get a whiff that either of you might come to any harm, nothing you can say will stop me.”

  He braced, expecting anything but her fragile, "Thank you."

  He blinked. "For what?"

  "For being the best man I know."

  She kissed him to prove it, caressing him, adoring him, loving him fiercely and without restraint. All the while, pleading silently, "Don't make me choose."

  * * * * *

  Amber thought to wake early and sneak out while he still slumbered. The coward’s route, but the easiest way to escape more intrusive questions. She hadn’t totally given up on her plan to disappear, but finding herself wrapped in Rico’s brawny arms, listening to his heart beat beneath her ear undercut those best intentions. Then his quiet words laid them to ruin.

  “I love you, Amber.”

  Tears wet her lashes, making damp crescents on her cheeks and against his warm skin. Her resolve shuddered. “You don’t know me, Frederick.”

  “Yeah, I do. And I love everything about you. Your strength, your stubbornness, your protectiveness, your courage. The way you’d sacrifice everything for that little girl, even . . . even me, just brings me to my knees. Don’t run from me. You don’t have to do this all alone. Let me share the privilege of seeing that Evie has the future she deserves, the one you should have had. Don’t run. Don’t be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t want to disappoint you.” Or put him in the bull’s eye of danger that surrounded her.

  “You couldn’t.”

  A deprecating laugh. “Are your standard’s that low?”

  “You’re like reaching for the moon, you’re so above me.”

  She lifted to accept his kiss, needing it, needing him so desperately. But knowing she had to let him go.

  “Promise you won’t come to the house or the school. Please, Rico. You can’t be seen there.”

  “Who’s watching your house? Was it the phone call or something worse? Tell me, Amber.”

  “As long as you stay away, we’re safe. Promise me.”

  “I’ll stay away,” he growled and was rewarded by another urgent kiss. Before he could take it to the next level, she pushed away and was off the bed.

  “I’ve got to go. I have to be home before Evie gets there. No!” She put out her hands as he started to rise. “Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.” If he followed, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  He settled back, unhappy about it but not aggressively fighting her decision. She wasn’t sure if that made it easier or more difficult for her to leave.

  She dressed quickly in the bathroom, noting he’d left out her toothbrush, another pang to an already heavy heart. She darted out of the bath and collided with his sturdy, naked form. Big hands settled at hip and upper back to press her against him. His quiet words moved her hair.

  “A cab’s waiting downstairs. Thank you for last night. I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d turned me away.”

  A jagged laugh. “I’m not that strong.”

  “Yes, you are.” He made it sound like an enormous compliment. “The strongest female I know.” His lips brushed her brow. “You be careful. Letting you walk out of here goes against everything inside me.”

  “Thank you for your trust.”

  His turn to chuckle. “I’m not all that trusting. It’s against my nature. And so is letting you go. There’s no better tracker in this world than a Terriot. Remember that.” To ease the subtle threat, he added, “And remember that I love you.”

  She didn’t dare put her hands anywhere on that tempting, hot flesh, so she backed out of his embrace, murmuring, “I won’t forget,” and escaped out the door.

  At the elevator, she glanced back. He stood in the hall, watching her, oblivious of the stunning impact he’d have upon any who might get a glimpse of his nudity. Of his impact on her. Tall, so gorgeous in face and form, with shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of her guilt, arms strong enough to carry her burdens, and the rest of him enough to fuel her needy dreams. He didn’t smile as she waved. And he didn’t move until the doors closed behind her.

  Then he returned to where he’d left his phone in the bedroom and left a terse message.

  “Savoie, I need answers. Today.”

  Chapter 19

  "How much do you want to know?"

  The way Savoie said it curdled the acid in Rico's belly. He and Colin were just finishing their drinks at Pat O’Brien’s when the New Orleans leader suddenly filled an empty chair. Just like that, he was sitting between them with that disconcerting “Now you See Him, Now You Don’t” way he had about him. It put Rico’s already frayed nerves to the test as he bit out, "All of it."

  "Are you sure?"

  What kind of question was that? Was he sure?

  Then Max turned it a notch tighter. "It's bad."

  Of course, it was bad. He'd already known it was bad, a nightmare still terrifying mother and daughter, paralyzing them with fear and distrust. Bad was nowhere near a strong enough word for whatever they'd gone through.

  Colin's hand gripped his shoulder for a firm, stabilizing press. "Knowing might change things," he cautioned quietly.

  Rico stared at him, temper percolating. "Change what? The way I look at them? The way I feel about them? What kind of shallow, self-centered son of a bitch do you think I am that anything those two suffered would be too much for me to hear about third-hand? I love them! Nothing either of you can tell me is going to change that one damned bit! Now tell me!"

  His brother gave the back of his head a light tap. Colin smiled at Savoie. "Told you. He's a tough guy."

  "He's a pissed off and scared right down to his socks guy whose gonna start throwing punches if you two don't start talking like right fucking now!"

  "Let's take a short field trip," Savoie suggested, starting for the door without waiting for them to hurriedly empty their glasses. A big black town car waited at the curb. Max climbed in front, leaving the broad back seat for the two Terriots. The vehicle glided into the darkness without a sound. In comparison, Rico's heartbeats banged like a bad exhaust system.

  What if he was wrong? What if whatever secret Amber clutched so frantically was too much for him to handle? What if he wasn't strong enough, brave enough, selfless enough to accept and embrace her past?

  He was scared, right down to the marrow, that all his bold words were bolstered by a fragile ego. One that couldn't absorb the dreadfulness without it coloring his reaction to them because of the things he'd seen growing up, and had been forced to do. The very thought of Amber and Evie facing horrors of that damaging magnitude made his will go weak and cower. What could he say to them? How could he pretend the idea of their tortuous past didn't sicken and terrify him?

  Because he couldn't change it. He couldn't make it go away with all his love, all his power, all his money. He could only stand by and tell them he loved them.

  He took a shaky breath.

  "You'll do fine, Red."

  Too bad he didn't have Colin's confidence.

  Savoie’s driver, St. Clair, took them ac
ross the river into a seedy section of Algiers where any vice was available and life held cheap. The Lincoln looked glaringly out of place in the parking lot of Maisy J's, where low light and low lifes filled the shadows.

  "I'll wait," Savoie said softly. "I'm too easy to recognize. Giles, go with them."

  Rico was about to protest that they didn't need the bulky human's help, but realized St. Clair wasn't going to protect them. He was there to prevent them from exactly unholy carnage.

  He took the place in with a sweeping glance. Rico had been to enough titty bars to know what to expect, but stepping inside the neon-washed ala carte business, he saw it anew through Amber James's eyes. What had a young girl like her been doing in such a place of hardened vice and ugly sins?

  Did he really, truly want to know?

  "Some things never change for the better," Colin murmured.

  Rico glanced up at him in surprise. "You've been here?"

  "With Cale and Babineau. Watch your pockets and your ass."

  Rico thought the reference metaphorical until a rough hand grabbed his butt for a squeeze.

  "Hi, there. Help you trip the lights fantastic?"

  The busty female must have been plying that same line for at least three-plus decades. Rather than insult her, which was never a good idea, Rico wound his arm through Colin's, startling him as he purred, "Thanks, but I've already got a date."

  Her kohled eyes took an incremental inventory of his older brother. She sighed, "Lucky you."

  "I feel used," the elder Terriot muttered as they pushed through the crowd in St. Clair's wake.

  "But not cheap," Rico amended to mollify him.

  A quick tour of the crowded floor told him more than he wanted to know. Maisy J's offered every vice on a tarnished platter. Gambling, alcohol, drugs of any choice, and females—and probably males—of every size, shape and color.

  The fear that he'd throw up or throw down at the least provocation grew very real.

  "I've seen enough," he told St. Clair in a tight voice. Without comment, the broad-shouldered human cleared the way to the door.

  Rico didn't realize he was holding his breath until he settled onto the butter-soft leather, a tense, shivery mess. Thankfully, no one spoke as the sleek car eased out of the rutted lot and back onto the bridge.

  Without turning from where he sat in the front, Max began the story.

  "May Johnston was a young, pretty Shifter runaway thinking she'd find a better life, but ended up in the worst possible hell. A flashy Cajun hustler name of Charlie Petitson gave her a smile and a place to stay and a job working the back rooms in a honky-tonk where he sharked pool to pay both their bills. He was greedy and shrewd, and she was fresh and beautiful, a combination that lured an influential social up-and-comer to throw in his lot with them to build a pleasure palace to honor her name. Maisy J's. Charlie managed the bar, Wren, the new off-the-books and out-of-sight partner, took care of the money and bribes, and May ran the girls. Apparently, there was nothing she wouldn't do for Charlie P, including sleep with their partner once she’d provided Charlie with twins—a son and daughter. Everything except lead her daughter down the same path. She ended up a Jane Doe, and brother and sister grew up in the life."

  Rico let out a noisy breath. Auguste and Amber. Holy hell. He realized Max was waiting for word from him. "Go on."

  Maisy J's did a booming trade while the children grew up in its shadow, drawing clientele from both sides of the river and boasting patrons from both the law and the legislature. Charlie should have been rolling in excess, but as handy has he was with a deck of cards or a cue, he had no head for business. Get richer schemes led to Charlie's other bad habit of blackmailing his well-to-do customers. Apparently, Wren was someone who didn't appreciate suspicious attention turning his way, and the partnership stepped onto rocky ground. But one thing he did appreciate was Charlie's teenage daughter, who became part of a very lucrative buy-out offer.

  There was violence and bloodshed, and Wren escaped just ahead of the police who did their very best to convince the girl to press charges. Her silence brokered the buy-out, but on his own, Charlie couldn't keep the place afloat. So, when he fell back on his other talent to sell private information that dealt with his former partner, his luck finally ran out, just he did on his business and his children, leaving a very dangerously angry, newly-appointed New Orleans police commissioner desperate to tie up loose ends . . . by burying them and the truth deep.

  Because Warren Brady couldn't afford to have his dark past as Charlie’s partner uncovered.

  Rico Terriot spoke a grim summation. "Amber knows who he is."

  "Both brother and sister fell off the grid, with or without help from dear old dad, but Brady never stopped looking. He's had people with ears to the ground, and finally the brother, using the name Gus Peters, surfaced and is back under Brady's thumb."

  Icy shards ripped through Rico's gut, thinking of Evie’s phone. "Why hasn't he turned her over to them?"

  "Blood thicker than water, maybe. Or he's waiting for the offer to increase."

  "Sonuvabitch," Colin muttered.

  "She was getting ready to run," Rico confided. "I convinced her not to. I told her I could protect her."

  Savoie swiveled on his seat to look back at him. "Then let's not make a liar out of you."

  * * * * *

  At three in the morning, Rico placed a call to Amber, the anxious tone of her voice firming his decision to act.

  "Hey, I'm outside. Don't turn on the light. Come to the door and let me in."

  "Is everything all right?"

  "It will be. Just hurry."

  In a few seconds, he heard the locks disengage, and her tousled head appeared.

  "Rico, what's going on?" She peered beyond him into the darkness, eyes going wide at the sight of the silent silhouettes behind him.

  "It's okay. They're with me. It's time to move. Now."

  She took a wary step back into the kitchen, gripping the edge of the door. All she wore was a long-sleeved sweatshirt that fell to mid-thigh. For a split second, he saw refusal in her stiffening stance then she gave a brisk nod.

  "Let me get dressed."

  "I'll get Evie. When you're decent, tell these guys what to take. Just what you have to have. I doubt you'll be coming back anytime soon."

  "Okay." Just that. So brief and trusting it staggered him. Then she turned and ran without a sound back to the bedroom, closing the door, followed by the trio who waited respectfully in the hall.

  Rico went to kneel beside the couch, heart rolling over at the sight of the little girl snuggled in a pile of blankets. "Hey, kiddo. Time to get up."

  Sleepy eyes blinked up at him. "Hi, Rico. What time is it?"

  "Real early. I'm taking you and your mom some place safe."

  No questions. Her arms rose, slipping around his neck and holding tight. He brought the covers up around her as her legs cinched about his waist, her scent stabilizing his racing pulse.

  The bedroom door opened. Amber directed the men with quick, concise sentences. As they got to emptying the closet and drawers, she hurried into the bathroom to dump the necessary contents into a tote bag. Rico caught it and slipped it over his shoulder as she trotted to the kitchen, snatching the school calendar and artwork off the refrigerator door, an old cast-iron skillet, a warped plastic bowl with a lid held on by rubber bands and a weary looking jade plant, placing them in a laundry basket.

  Back in the living room, she pulled several pictures off the wall, nodding gratefully as one of the men murmured, "I'll take those, ma'am," so she could scour the room with a fiercely practical gaze. She took their coats out of the closet, handing all but the one she slipped on to the silent steward of her art, shouldered her purse and Evie's school bag, and tucked a book off the side table under her arm. The raggedy Bible that held Colin's teeth marks. She nodded to Rico.

  "Ready."

  How he loved her!

  They followed the bulky trio, each laden with a
lifetime of memories and necessities, to a large, black SUV. While belongings were stored in the back, Rico helped Amber up into the rear seat.

  "Lock the house," was all she said.

  When he tried to tuck Evangeline in next to her mother, she wouldn't let him go, so he ran back to secure the door with her still wound about him then leapt into the vehicle. Two men jumped in front, with the other following in a second car. Nothing was said as they sped quietly out of the Quarter.

  With Evie on his lap, Rico freed an arm to band about Amber's shoulders. For all her exterior calm, she burrowed into the protective heat of his body as instinctively as her daughter had. She asked no questions, made no demands, and his devotion to her deepened by the minute.

  They were so quiet he thought both had gone to sleep, but when they pulled into the huge underground parking structure, Evie asked, "Why am I going to school so early? No one will be here."

  "You're not going to school." That simple answer satisfied her, but he could feel Amber's curious stare on him.

  The lower lot could only be accessed by special pass or key code, the same with the elevator. The three of them went up alone while things in the SUV were placed on a luggage cart.

  Both mother and child were very alert now as the elevator rose without displaying any numbers, dinging quietly and opening onto a wide, plushly-carpeted hallway. There was only one door, and Rico had the key card.

  Even in total darkness, the sensation of space was immediate. Both females gasped when the lights came on.

  Soaring ceiling and hardwood floors against an all-white color scheme made the open-concept kitchen, dining and living room look mammoth. Surprising pops of color brought warmth, from lime-green metal stools at the breakfast bar, bright-red glass bowls lining floating kitchen shelves, antique cane chairs painted a bright orange pushed up to the sleek white table, and a royal blue-tufted sofa angled before a big screen. Vivid abstract watercolors and acrylics softened otherwise stark walls. Huge, ferny green plants filled the corners, making it a soothing oasis.