She returned it in kind, lifting his hand to her mouth and pressing her dry lips to his palm.
The balding New Orleans officer, Lieutenant Casper, ruined their moment by coming to sit beside them on the couch, a steaming cup of The Seaside’s house brew clasped in his hands. He sipped, smiled appreciatively, and placed his mug on a coaster on the coffee table.
“I’ve talked to the head of your security staff, Miss Roussoux, and I’ve spoken with Mr. Barrington as well. Y’all’ve got a fantastic team here, folks, and we’d be glad to provide surveillance detail for the immediate future to ensure your safety.”
“I want to get back on the boat,” Darren said. “But thank you anyway.”
Maddy hadn’t expected that, though maybe she should have. One of the primary reasons Darren had been willing to venture out with her in the first place was the inaccessibility of open waters. You couldn’t walk up to a boat, drive up to it, and she didn’t have a helicopter pad so there was no flying to it, either. Miles upon miles of ocean was a Kelly-free safety net. If he stayed in New Orleans, he’d see himself as endangering others. Sol. Rain. Vaughan and Cylan and the police officers watching out for him. On the Capulet, not so much. Maddy and her team were protected by the vastness of the Gulf just as much as he was.
It wasn’t an indefinite solution, but it was an immediate one.
Vaughan stood behind the couch, the pale blue sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, an unlit cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth. “You’re safe here,” he insisted. “I’ve got you. Julio’s my man now, and between the two of us, we can work with the authorities to—”
“No, thanks. I’d like to go.” Darren tilted his face up to peer at Maddy. “Can we? We can come back to New Orleans soon enough, I’ve had a great time, I just . . . please? Get me out of here?”
He’s so lost. I would give anything, do anything, to wipe that look off his face.
“Yes, of course. I’ll have Patrice pack us. You know, we could sail to Tampa. It’s a day or two away, but it’s such a pretty city, and we don’t need to disembark if you don’t want to. We’ll just bounce ports awhile. Julio, can you get your team ready to head out, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Julio nodded and ducked from the room to go find the rest of the staff and ready them for departure.
“We’ll escort you there,” Lieutenant Casper said. “Gladly. There’s press out front, too, so that’ll help you cut through that. Two birds, one stone.”
Maddy sighed. “Of course there’s press. There’s always press.”
“Let me get dressed then.” Darren pushed himself up from the couch, weaving around the milling bodies of friends and strangers alike to paw through his luggage. It was a disaster, his clothes strewn everywhere, and Maddy texted Patrice to let her know they needed her. It didn’t take long for her to appear, her bleached hair tied off in a ponytail, her thick body wrapped up in what looked like fluorescent gym clothes, but knowing Patrice, it could have just been her comfy gear, too.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Maddy said. “But emergency departure. Can we get everything packed in short order, please? Contact the captain, get us the hell out of Dodge?”
“No problem. Sorry for the outfit. I was just doing my Tae Bo. ”
Tae Bo? Like that song about the atrocious soy lattes? Does anybody do that anymore? Patrice does. Patrice does Tae Bo. I am somehow not surprised.
But Maddy said nothing, too preoccupied to needle as she stepped back and allowed Patrice to do what Patrice did best, which was organize Maddy’s disorganized life so they could function with some semblance of sanity on a day-to-day basis. If anybody had seen the dildo stuck to the chair by the bed, they’d been good enough not to say anything, and Patrice grabbed a wet wipe from Maddy’s makeup bag, wrapped it around the shaft of the cock, and tugged it off with a pop.
Dealing with secretions wasn’t part of the job description, but desperate times require desperate measures. Maddy was going to double that woman’s holiday bonus.
Maddy impatiently watched the bathroom door, waiting for Darren to reappear. She didn’t think anything had happened to him in the few minutes he’d been gone, but her own anxieties meant the sooner he was in eyeshot, whole and safe, the better she’d feel. She was so fixated on his return she didn’t notice Sol coming up from behind her, and when he touched her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Her head whipped around, her eyes wide.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked quietly. He pulled his hand back to adjust the cuff on his white suit jacket. “You look like you’re ready to pop.”
“Mmm? Yes, of course. I’m fine,” she said, flashing him a smile.
The smile.
He frowned.
“Don’t bullshit me, Madeline. I know when you’re upset. You’re worried about him and I’m worried about you. It’s what friends do, and as much as you were an abysmal wife, you’re a fantastic partner in crime.”
The familiarity of it, the endearment, helped take some of the edge off. She stood on tiptoe to kiss Sol’s cheek, her arms wrapping around his chest. He returned in kind, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be fine, dove. I just don’t want to lose another one, you know? My parents. It’s different, I know, but that look on his face earlier—it brought back some old fears I really could have done without.”
“I understand. Truly. I understand.”
Maddy smiled at him, Sol smiled back, and she knew he did truly understand, and that’s what made him her best friend.
TWENTY-FOUR
DARREN FELT STUPID. It wasn’t some machismo bullshit “I don’t like admitting I’m afraid” thing—it was natural to be scared of the person who’d tried to have you killed. No, what made him feel dumb was that everyone from Maddy to Julio to Patrice and Sol were disrupted by his immediate need to escape. They ran around in a frenzy to accommodate him. They were willing to do it, especially with Maddy acting as ringleader, but he was aware he’d inconvenienced a whole lot of people.
He felt bad about that. When he told Maddy as much, she told him to shut up and kissed his ear.
She’s a good woman.
He glanced over at her profile. She wore huge dark sunglasses that took up half her face and a smear of red lipstick. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck and she wore no jewelry. Her casual clothes were topped off with a black zip-up sweatshirt despite the heat and humidity. She knew there’d be photographers waiting for them outside The Seaside, some getting wise to the back-door escape tactics, so she’d hidden herself away, unwilling to give them even a scrap of what they were looking for. When they continued to shout questions even after he followed Maddy into the waiting limousine, she’d ignored them, her hand clasped comfortably in Darren’s. He took from her example and looked straight ahead.
The police sirens whirred and they left the hotel in a blaze of flashing blues. Darren glanced behind him once and spotted Sol and Rain on their private terrace on the fourth floor, watching them go. Sol’s arm was looped around Rain’s waist. She had a death grip on a Corgi.
They’re nice people. I’d like to get to know them better.
Patrice and Julio rode with them in the limousine while the rest of the security team followed behind in a black sedan. It was a far quicker drive to get to the dock than it had been to get to the hotel, the cops cutting a swath through the city. They pulled up parallel to the ship, Lorelai the teal-haired chauffeur climbing from the front of the car to open the doors.
“I should sweep the ship first,” Julio said.
One look at Darren’s ashen face and Maddy waved Julio off. “Let’s get Darren off land. Any breaches, I’m sure you can handle.” Julio frowned but followed his orders, talking into his Bluetooth to the rest of the team. Maddy guided Darren from the car and toward the gangplank, the security team rushing
from their car to accompany them as they ascended to the top deck of the Capulet.
The moment Darren was on board, he relaxed. He perused the familiar-yet-unfamiliar splendor of the ship, his angry, knotted muscles unfurling. Maddy stood by his side, her hand still holding his, barking orders at her staff. Patrice arranged for the luggage to be delivered. Julio and his boys took position by the gangplank, closely watching everyone boarding. Tobin appeared from decks below, hurrying over to hug Maddy and pat Darren’s arm in turn. He wore a yellow Harry Potter T-shirt with a Hufflepuff logo on the breast pocket, and much to Darren’s amazement, he seemed to wear it with pride.
“Welcome back, gorgeous!” he said to Darren before turning his attention Maddy’s way. “You’re back early. What is going on? Sol being a prick again?”
“It’s like you know him.” Maddy smiled tightly. “But not this time. Darren’s ex decided to make an appearance. Well, she called, and that’s enough of an appearance for anyone. It’ll be good to get off her radar awhile.”
“Absolutely. I’m glad you’re back, TBH. I was pretty much alone on this ship last night. Couple of crew, Cappy and Richter, but that was about it. I need my Maddy. She gives me life. So, are you two hungry? I can whip up something so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
Darren shook his head. “No, thanks. No appetite right now.”
“Poor thing. Stress is the worst. Gives you agita. Well, when you’re in the mood, I’ll fix you up. You’re a Texas boy, right? We’ll do pulled pork and barbecue wings and slaw and a potato salad that’d make your mama jealous. Corn bread, too. Just buzz me when you’re ready for it.” Tobin waved and headed belowdecks again, presumably to find his kitchen and make a bucketful of heart attack for later consumption.
I like that dude. He’s pretty cool.
“I’m thinking you could use a rest,” Maddy said, her fingers squeezing his. “You had a pretty severe episode. Sleep might do you some good.”
“Yeah, that sounds excellent right about now, I won’t lie.” When they were driving to the dock, Maddy had referred to his breakdown at the hotel as a panic attack. He’d objected at first, not because of shame or anything ridiculous like that, but because he thought panic looked different. He wasn’t crying or screaming or running around. In fact, his body had done exactly the opposite of those things and slowed to a standstill. His heart beat fast, but he’d gone to lead, mentally and physically. He couldn’t think. Articulating was hard. Instead of fleeing he’d gone rigid, his body frozen like someone had encased him in carbonite like Han Solo.
Maddy had been very kind when she’d corrected him, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “If panic looked and acted the same from person to person, don’t you think it’d be cured by now? It changes, dove. Circumstances. Our personalities. In times of duress we fight, flight, or freeze. This time you froze. Next time, you might do one of the other two things. It’s a tricky beast because it always changes forms. That said, no matter its guise, it sucks. It sucks so hard. It’s exhausting and I’m so, so sorry you’re going through it.”
So was he, but he was glad for Maddy’s insight. It was hard to feel secure when you didn’t trust your own mind and body to function when times got tough, but having the reassurance from someone who’d been there, done that was incredibly helpful.
Maddy was becoming his rock.
A smart, funny, gorgeous, fuckable rock.
My rock. Mine.
He hauled her in close and nuzzled her neck.
“Julio, I’m forcing the giant to get some sleep. Can you supervise from here on out?” Maddy asked, having to shout to be heard over the coastal wind.
Julio nodded and motioned at the dock. “We’ll screen everyone getting on. Are you expecting any deliveries before cast-off?”
“Ask Patrice? I’m bad at things that don’t involve me looking good.”
Darren let himself be tugged along behind her, down a set of stairs and a long hallway to her bordello-style bedroom. Getting on the Capulet was one comfort, but getting out of open air was another. He didn’t exactly expect Kelly to become a great American sniper, but he still felt vulnerable outside and likely would until they were far, far from shore. Nestled up with Maddy in her room with armed men above patrolling the decks sounded like a perfect way to spend the time.
“If you’re hungry, you should eat,” Darren said after she shut the door. The bedroom had been cleaned after their night together, the linens on the bed, including the comforter and pillow shams, changed over to a red and black silk stripe. New velvet throw pillows with beaded tassel edges were stacked high in invitation.
Maddy shrugged off her sweatshirt and picked up a heart-shaped pillow, frowning as she flipped it over in her hand. “I keep telling them no velvet. Cappy’s fur gets glued to it and it looks like shit.”
“Are you hungry?” Darren repeated, smiling at her fussing over the completely inappropriate accoutrements littering her bed. She tossed the pillows onto the floor and sprawled out on the bedspread, patting the mattress beside her in invitation.
“No. I figured we’d sleep and see how much of that barbecue we can destroy when we get up.”
“Sounds good.” Darren carefully pulled off his red T-shirt. He’d overdone it the past couple of days in his eagerness to plow the sex goddess not ten feet away from him and he was starting to feel it. He’d probably have to do a day or two in the sling, but hopefully, if he played his cards right, he could avoid going back on the Oxy. He didn’t like that stuff, and the idea of losing alertness because he was medicated didn’t appeal right now.
And since I apparently shut down when things go bad, I’d be doubly fucked.
Yeah, I’m gonna need that therapist.
Maddy beckoned him over with a crooked finger, but then her phone blipped, and she flopped down dramatically, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. “If this is something stupid, I’m going to burn the world. I’m going to burn it down to the ground.” She stretched over the side of the bed to snag her cell phone from the hoodie’s pocket. Immediately, a smile stretched across her face. “Oh, well. This is okay. Richter says he’s bringing Cappy down unless you object. She missed me.”
“That’s fine. I don’t actually think I mind having an enormous cat around given the circumstances. At least she’s on our side. I think.”
Maddy snickered and texted while Darren sat on the white couch near the fireplace to take off his socks and sneakers. She offered to help him, but he told her he wasn’t actually an invalid, he just played one on TV, so to let him do it. She took it in the spirit it was intended and scrambled into bed to wait for him.
He’d just removed the second sock when the knock sounded. Three slow taps, one strike followed by two slower ones. He was already up, he was right by the door, so he did what any normal person would do and opened it. He didn’t think about it any more than he’d thought about any other reflex action.
Which is how he found himself face-to-face with none other than a dirty, wide-eyed, odoriferous drunk named Kelly Adams Roberts.
TWENTY-FIVE
“SHUT THE DOOR, Darren,” Maddy said. “Shut the door. Shut the door, Darren.” But Darren couldn’t shut the door. He could only stare into the hall making a shrill, high-pitched screeching sound like a teakettle about to boil over. It was the hotel all over again, only worse, because the threat was tangible and near and he could not move.
Why did he have to freeze again? Fight or flight would have been so much better.
Maddy slowly climbed from the bed, her heart in her throat, her body quivering.
I told Julio not to sweep the ship when we came back. I told him and now . . .
Oh God. Was that even Richter who texted me? Or did she take his phone and set us up? Did she hurt him? Or Cappy?
Oh God. Oh God.
Kelly wasn’t very tall—five inches shorter than Maddy if M
addy had to guess, and maybe 130 pounds soaking wet. She was petite and pixie looking, her hair cut short around her ears, dirty blond and actually dirty. She looked like she’d not seen a shower in days. Her jacket buttons were misaligned with the holes. Her T-shirt was wrinkled and stained, her jeans riddled with tears. She slouched against the doorframe, eyes heavy-lidded with plum-colored shadows beneath. The smell of booze was thick in the air. Maddy didn’t know if Kelly was still drunk or not, but either way, it wasn’t pretty.
“I waited,” Kelly rasped. She sounded like she’d smoked every cigarette in the world back-to-back forever.
Kelly’s hand sank into her jacket pocket. “I came to see you last night. But you weren’t here. Darren, I’m so . . . so sorry.”
Maddy didn’t know if Kelly was armed—she didn’t know if there was something in that jacket pocket she had to worry about. She also didn’t know how the hell Kelly had gotten on the ship. Tobin had said it was a skeleton crew the night before, and the security staff had been with Maddy and Darren at The Seaside, so they were light on bodies. Kelly probably could have just waltzed on board when everyone was otherwise preoccupied, but how’d she get into the dock area at all? They had checkpoints!
Not the time to think about that.
Now’s the time to think about safety. You need Julio. Call Julio.
Maddy’s hand crept for her phone, but the movement drew Kelly’s attention. Her head snapped around, snakelike, and her face screwed up in disdain.
“I know you. You’re on the news. The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to make sure everyone walks away from this all right,” Maddy said quietly, calmly, despite her roiling stomach and the tightness in her chest. Darren made another mewling sound and Maddy’s eyes jerked his way. “Darren, why don’t you sit down on the couch? Is that okay, Kelly? If he sits?”
The Queen of Dauphine Street Page 19