by Shurr, Lynn
“Feeling under the weather, Mom. He called and asked me to come.”
Jenny gazed up at her son with a sweet smile. “I don’t get off until midnight. Is that okay?”
“Sure, Mom. I’ll sit in the bar area like Harley does and watch out for you. The crowd can get rough here on weekends.”
“That’s nice. See you inside.” Jenny stubbed out her cigarette. “Back to work.”
Jenny made her way to the restroom exit, knocked, and stepped back into the writhing turmoil of the Barn. Meanwhile, Waldo worked his way slowly backwards as if he intended to hide behind Jane while Merlin talked to his mother. He did not move quick enough. Merlin turned, took a few long strides forward, and jerked him closer by the collar of his dress shirt. Of similar height but greatly outmuscled, Waldo shrank down a few inches to avoid meeting the man’s blazing blue eyes.
“Never touch or talk to my mother again. You understand?”
“I thought she was Britt…no, one of Broussard’s working girls.”
“Yeah, like every man in the parish doesn’t know his girls hang by the bar and don’t wear waitress outfits. This is for my mom.” Merlin cocked a fist.
“Don’t hit me!” Waldo covered his long face as best he could with his hands, so Merlin drove his fist into the flat but flabby stomach of the undertaker. The hands flew to the side opening up room for an uppercut to the jaw. “And for my sister.”
Jane knew she should intervene as a civilized bystander, a Good Samaritan, but her delighted brain kept repeating, “Date with Waldo over. Check.” Must be the alcohol.
Waldo’s head snapped back and rebounded in time to meet a blow to the nose. “And for what you said about Jane.”
“Assault, assault,” Waldo managed to scream before his knees hit the oyster shells and his beer and burger dinner made its way from gut to ground.
The side door banged open, and the Broussard bouncer charged out wielding a baseball bat. “What’s going on here! Blackie Tauzin, that you?”
“Yeah, Slick. This jerk-wad hit on my mother, insulted my sister and Jane over there.”
“Police, you need to call the police. I want to press charges,” Waldo wailed, still kneeling over his self-made puddle.
“Now, Mr. Robin, you a regular here and know the cops don’t get ever get called to Broussard’s Barn. We handle shit in our own way. Don’t you be telling me neither, you don’t know the wait staff is off-limits. You pay for your pleasure here, yeah. Tell you what, let me help you up. We go over to the bar, get an ice pack for that nose, give you a whiskey for the pain on the house. Who knows, maybe one of our ladies will feel sorry enough for you to give a freebie if you still got the urge. What say?”
“I want to press charges.” Waldo’s words came out muffled by his rapidly swelling nose.
“You want to find yourself floating in a ditch tomorrow morning? That what you said?” Slick thumped his bat against a calloused hand for emphasis.
“No. I’ll take that ice and whiskey.”
“Good decision.” The bouncer extended the bat to help Waldo up rather than offer his thick, hairy arm.
“Come along, Jane,” her date ordered.
“I don’t think so, Waldo. I’ll call a cab. Don’t ask me out again. And I’m not a lesbian.”
“Frigid, then.”
“Not half as much as you.”
The door into the barn opened. Zydeco music and the shuffling sound of boots on the dance floor poured out along with a few gasps as Waldo entered followed by Slick.
“Nothing to see here, folks. The man fell down in the parking lot. Shit happens.” The bouncer stopped in the doorway and offered Merlin a bit of advice, too.
“Better come back at midnight. I’ll watch out for your mother, Blackie.”
“Thanks, Slick.”
That left Jane alone with Merlin on the dark side of the parking lot.
“Since I’m leaving, I could give you a lift. If you want to stay even with me, you can give me a ten for gas. I’m parked right behind the restrooms.”
Despite the near darkness, she could sense a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “You know, a ten would fill half my car’s tank.”
“That so?”
“Yes, but I would like a ride, thank you.”
She followed him around the back of the cinderblock building and admitted to feeling that thrill when he lifted her into his truck. They rolled out of the lot and rode in silence until they reached the outskirts of Chapelle and got caught by every light. By the church, she noticed his hand with the knuckles turning purple resting easy and commanding on the wheel. Impulsively, she took it and laid a healing kiss on the bruises.
“Merlin, you should learn to use your words, not your fists.”
“I’m not so good with words.”
“A lucky thing tonight you knew the bouncer, or you’d be in jail right now for assaulting Waldo, upstanding local businessman that he is.”
Merlin snorted. “Yeah, right. Great guy, Waldo. I ran with Slick in high school, but even so, the result would have been the same. Broussard’s Barn is our own local Vegas. What happens there stays there.”
Merlin moved the truck through the black district of Chapelle, quiet by day but throbbing with life on a Friday night when the hole-in-the-wall clubs lit their neon beer signs and knots of folks moved along the sidewalk from one bar to another. No one bothered them, not even when they had to idle at the long light on the other end of town by the run-down strip mall. She felt safe with Merlin in a way hard to rationalize with her very women’s libby upbringing.
“Yeah, Slick and me on our bikes, no one messed with us,” he volunteered.
For a moment, Jane envisioned two adolescent boys, one lanky, one chunky, pedaling their bicycles along the country roads abloom with yellowtop and pussytoes until Merlin said, “He helped me steal the hearse.”
“And the stains in the rear?”
“Some of his grandfather’s girls volunteered to show us the ropes.”
“So not riding bicycles or deflowering virgins, then.”
“Motorcycles, muffin. The virgins came later. What, no rebuttal on the muffin?”
“Nope.” Because she felt like a muffin right now, warm and soft with a sweet, jelly filling.
“My granny was so eager to get me away from bad company she found the means to send me to college. I had good grades, but enough detention to keep me off the honor roll and out of the Beta Club. I do regret I got bored with higher education and didn’t finish. But no, I wanted action. Got more than I bargained for.”
They arrived at her house. Merlin pulled around to the back under the deep shadow of the pecan tree. Out of the shelter of the cab, the wind howled and whipped Jane’s hair into her face as he lifted her down.
“Change in the weather coming,” he said.
“Want to come in for a while?”
“Not tonight. I have to go back to the Barn for Mom and Brittney. Tomorrow, maybe.”
Jane lowered his face down to hers and gave him a kiss, deep and hard, enjoying the brush of his stubble and his hands going around her back drawing her in tight against him.
“Waldo doesn’t know what he’s talking about when it comes to you.”
“I’m glad you realize that. Tomorrow for sure?”
“Yep.”
Second chance offered and accepted. Check.
Chapter Fifteen
Clad in last night’s clothes and high rubber boots, Jane went out early to photograph the site of the leaking waste pit reported months ago by a squirrel hunter heading for a copse of water oaks. She hiked in to spare her car on the crude access road. With the dike around its edges broken in several places, dark puddles dotted the landscape. The wind, pushing a cold front into place, riffled the surface of the oily, black substance the pit still contained. Beyond the tree line half a mile away ran the bayou teeming with fish, turtles, and waterfowl. This place needed to be cleaned up, and soon. She’d collected soil and water sam
ples earlier when she could still leave the office and had the results ready to plug into her report. Now, she recorded pictorial evidence for her document and headed home before the rain hit.
Having no intention of dragging pollutants into her house, she shucked off the boots at the front of the garage and made her way across a scattering of small pecans more painful to tread upon than pebbles. “Ouch, ouch—ouch, ouch,” she muttered with each step.
Strong arms gathered her up from behind. If she didn’t know his very scent by now, she would have screamed. “Merlin, you can put me down.”
“Sure, I love hearing you make that little ouch, ouch noise, cuddles.” But he did not release her until they reached the kitchen steps where he set her down gently at the top.
“I didn’t expect you so soon. I went out to take pictures of the waste pit we need to get cleaned up.” She took her little digital camera from her shirt pocket and suddenly recalled the ketchup stains down her front. “I’m not injured.”
“No, I recognize ketchup when I see it. Blood has a coppery smell and dries black. Still, you shouldn’t go places like that alone. They find bodies in those pits all the time.”
“None out there today, not even a snapping turtle to worry about. Wildlife deserted the area some time ago, but thanks for your concern.” On eye level with him, she could not resist rasping her thumb along his unshaven jaw. He caught it in his teeth and shook her digit like an overgrown puppy for a second before letting go.
“Ready to play, are we?” Jane asked.
“After lunch. Holy Mom is holding a hot link po-boy sale today for a benefit. Granny asked me to get her some, so I bought enough for us, too.”
He held up two white paper bags clutched in one fist. If she hadn’t been so busy sniffing his neck and taking in the aroma that should be labeled “manly” when he carried her, she would have caught the smell of barbecued sausage exuding from the sacks. She already knew the contents: a hot link sausage poking out the ends of a short bun, a bag of chips, an off-brand can of cola, and a peppermint candy to sweeten the breath after eating, the ingredients that raised funds for many good causes in the area. Sad to say, her stomach rumbled as it never did for salad.
“Now I owe you for gas and lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it. Like Waldo, I think I’ll get my money’s worth.”
Jane opened the door before they ended up rolling on the lawn among the fallen pecans. Merlin made himself at home popping the tops of the soft drinks and laying out the spread while Jane got glasses and ice. A little orange grease leaked from the end of the sausage when she took a bite and landed on her chest. She didn’t bother wiping it away this time.
“This shirt needed to go in the wash anyhow. No sense wearing clean clothes to visit a cesspit.”
“You can take it off anytime. All right by me.” His smile tugged at his lips. His blue eyes glittered in kitchen light she’d turned on as the sky outside darkened. Tempted, she was very tempted to do exactly that, but held him off with, “Right, you’d love that.”
“I would, especially if you have on that green lace bra.”
“Sure, I wear my best undies to tramp around polluted sites.”
The first pattering of drops began to fall covering the noise of crunching potato chips. Neither one of them forgot to use the mint at the end of the meal. A long, low roll of thunder stretched out like a sexual groan followed by an orgasmic flash of lightning.
“You ever been upstairs when rain is hitting that metal roof?”
“No, it’s more of a guestroom. I don’t really use the space except for that and storage.”
“I do recall you had a bed up there. Come on.”
Merlin led her through the house, out the front door, and up the precarious wooden stairs to the old garçonniere.
“Loud,” she said as the rain beat down harder, maybe mixed with a little hail.
“Soothing when it lets up a little, great for napping.” He eyed the sleigh bed. “Not made for two.”
“No, it’s a guestroom, not a bachelor pad.”
“Not a problem.” He stooped to draw out the trundle bed and tumble her onto its fresh sheets. “You fit just fine.”
“So where do you plan to nap?”
“I don’t plan to nap at all. Let me help you out of that awful stained shirt.” Straddling her, he started on the buttons and got down to the bra in a hurry.
“Plain white cotton. You disappointed?”
“Nope. Because it will be out of my way in a second. There. Nice, very nice, 36C.”
“How did you know that?”
“Read the label, sugar baby. I didn’t really get to see them last time.”
“All I got to see was the leather of my couch. Then, you left.”
“I had my reasons. You want me to go?”
Like the storm outside, they’d been building toward this since last night. No way would she let him walk now. Jane sat up letting him get a good look before she stretched the dark T-shirt over his head and used her hand to smooth down that black hair from his head all the way down his chest to his belt buckle. She grappled with its oversized buckle embossed with a motorcycle. He released it and himself with one tug and a quick unzip. No briefs. He searched his hip pocket for a condom before kicking off his jeans and taking his athletic shoes with them. No socks either. The man came ready for action.
“Unless you’ve been with Wanda, you don’t really need to use that.”
“Wanda who? Jane, I want you to feel safe with me so I’ll use it.”
“Then, allow me.”
She took the packet he’d torn open and smoothed it down the length of his hardened shaft all the way to the root, a treat for both of them evidently because he nearly upended her stripping off her jeans and socks. Her panties were pink cotton, but bikini cut. Like the bra, they didn’t stay on long enough to matter. Then, he began to work her with those long fingers inside and out while he pressed her back and seized a nipple in his mouth. Jane nibbled along his neck and shoulder as he bowed over her, but like the rain that started gently and turned into a storm her bites grew stronger as her urge increased.
She raked her nails down his back and cupped his buttocks, trying to force him to enter her now, now, now! Stubborn as he could be in all ways, he kept that thumb in motion on her pulsing clit, his fingers filling the space inside, merely turning his head to take the other breast for a suckle. Jane beat on his back with both fists. “In, in, damn you!”
He raised his head long enough to say, “Ladies first.” Lightning struck nearby adding to the charge in the air. Unable to hold back any longer, she came with an electric surge that arched her back.
“That’s my little darlin’,” he said.
“Oh, you—you…” Words failed her because now he sank deep into her moist warmth and began building on what he’d wrought. He took his time and when she bucked again, picked up the pace for the final thrusts before shuddering down into her arms. She stroked his back in apology for her scratches and laid gentle kisses along his prickly cheek. He mumbled something into her shoulder.
“What did you say?”
“You for sure ain’t frigid.”
If he admitted anything else he wasn’t going to own up to it. Merlin rolled off on her far side, and Jane, feeling chilled by his loss, spooned around his body warmth. She tugged the quilt from the top of the bed over both of them though his long legs hung out over the edge of the trundle. The rain gentled, only a light pattering against the metal roof now. Soothing, yes, it was. She put an arm over him and could tell by the regular rise and fall of his chest he’d gone to sleep. Instead of feeling insulted, she put her worries aside, burrowed her face against his nape and relaxed into a long overdue nap.
Chapter Sixteen
A strong arm smashed Jane against the side of the sleigh bed. Merlin thrashed entangled in the sheets and quilt. A strong shaft of sunlight from the small attic window illuminated the side of his desperate, black-bearded face.<
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“We’re going down! Do you read me? Six aboard, my gunner wounded. Do you read me?” He spewed out coordinates and the ID of his chopper, repeated the call for help again and again. Sweat ran down his back. Tremors shook his body.
Jane wrapped her arms around his quaking torso from the rear. Locking her hands over his pounding heart, she whispered in his ear. “You aren’t over there anymore, Merlin. Come back now. Come back to Louisiana, to your old room in your granny’s house where you are safe. You had a bad dream. Wake up.”
He calmed. The tension went out of his body, and he sank back onto the small mattress as Jane released him. She stroked his lank, dark hair back from his forehead. His eyes opened, so bright a blue in the patch of sunlight.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Only a small bump, nothing much.”
“Were you scared of me?”
“No, only scared for you.”
He lowered the lids of his eyes like a child unable to face his mother after doing wrong. “This is why I can’t stay the night, Jane. I do things in my sleep. The dream comes, and I rip down my drapes or break a lamp and only find out when I wake up.”
He shivered as the sweat on his body dried. Jane straightened the quilt and drew it over him. She stroked his hair again. “Does this happen when you are offshore? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Usually I stay in the trailers at Intracoastal City, but plenty of guys out on the rigs have been to Iraq and Afghanistan. Hell, the man who owns the company where I work flew helicopters in Nam. They get it. And I’m not likely to put a dent in any of them. They can take it, but you—any woman, I could hurt.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t think so. From what I’ve seen you are a protector, always trying to save someone else and getting pissed when you can’t. Would it help if you told me about what happened over there?”
“You can’t understand.”
“No, I don’t imagine I can, but sometimes it helps just to tell someone what’s bothering you.”
“That’s what my shrink says. You want me to go now that you know I really am crazy?”