“Why did you do it?” I asked instead, curious at what had prompted his behavior. Michael had seemed to anticipate something of this nature happening, but it was strange to me. It was as if something had triggered his behavior after he’d left.
He shook his head, and I glimpsed agony in his eyes before he shuttered them.
“The past is a wicked woman.” He finally muttered, swaying, and his hands tightened around my waist. He seemed to realize how tight he was holding me and removed his hands. “Some wounds hurt too much. To speak of them is to watch yourself bleed.” His eyes begged me for absolution, forgiveness from the demons inside of him, and I suddenly understood what Michael had tried to warn me of. I swallowed, blinking back tears of my own as I stared at his hopeless expression.
“I’m upset you did it, but, Ian, you had Buster check on me. You came in here apologizing.” I cupped his cheeks in my hand, his golden stubble rough on my palms. “I don’t give up on people because they made a mistake. I don’t walk away. I’d like your word you won’t do it again, and if you give it to me then we’ll put this behind us.”
“You have my word.” He promised instantly, sincerity ringing through his words. I ran my thumbs against his cheeks, curious who had hurt him so deeply the wound still bleed. Whoever it was still had power over him, and whatever had happened tonight was because of it. He closed his eyes, turning his face into my palm and I felt his lips press against the fleshy pad under my thumb. I shivered and drew back, pulling my hand from his face slowly.
“Okay.” The word sounded shaky and a little breathless, and I cleared my throat as the intimacy of our circumstances occurred to me. I tucked my legs back under the blanket, arming myself against the desire to pull him toward me. It was a dangerous, wicked thought, and of everything that had happened it scared me most of all. My own body so easily betrayed me, and I questioned if I had the strength to resist him or the will to even want to.
He stood, catching himself on the nightstand as he stumbled. He stared down at me, hunger in his eyes and I suddenly felt like a mouse poised in front of a cat. Any sudden move would cause him to pounce. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before reaching for the light switch on the lamp.
“You are better than I deserve.” He sighed, clicking the light off. I’d caught only a glimpse of his expression before the light went off, but it caused my heart to jump painfully. He’d looked like a lost boy, one rejected and left to despair. He moved toward the door and the words escaped me before I thought.
“Wait, Ian.” He paused, half turning, his posture tense in the dim light from the window. “Perhaps you could hold my hand?”
He gave a jerky nod and walked back to the bed, pausing on the other side to yank off his shoes. The light was too low to see any details of his face, but he laid down next to me on top of the covers, and reached for my hand. Our fingers intertwined, and I let out the breath I hadn’t know I was holding.
“Sleep, my beautiful warrior, morning will come soon enough.” He began humming then, the sound a lullaby soothing me back to sleep.
The next morning I woke alone, sunlight streaming brightly in through the window. I stretched, the events from the night before running through my mind like the remnants of a bad dream. I padded to the door, opening it to see Michael pouring a green concoction into a glass for Ian.
Ian’s eyes were bloodshot and his face paler than normal, but he still sent me an impish grin.
“Sleeping Beauty awakes!” He winced slightly at the loudness of his own voice and I grinned.
“Drink up, brother.” Michael gave me a conspirator’s wink. “It is the foulest thing I could conjure on short notice.”
Ian’s mouth pinched, but he nodded, drinking it down in a few short gulps.
“There’s a good lad.” Michael nodded approvingly before smiling at me.
“Do I want to know what was in that?” I asked, carefully taking in both of their expressions. They seemed back to normal, the night before forgiven and on the way to forgotten, as Michael removed the glass.
“Probably not.” Ian answered with a shudder. “At least, I have no desire to know what I just swallowed.”
Michael tilted his head in agreement with Ian’s statement and I sat down at the table.
“What time is your call with your parents?” Michael asked casually as he took a seat across from me.
“Ten.” I replied glancing at the clock. The way the light was shining in I was afraid I’d missed our call time, but the clock showed it was only nine.
“I thought we’d go out for lunch after and then to Café du Monde. I have yet to try the beignets and figured you’d appreciate watching me.”
I grinned happily. “That sounds delightful. You’ll love them, Michael.”
“I’m sure I will.” He replied, smiling indulgently. “Breakfast?”
“Yes! I’m starving.”
“None for me, I’m afraid my stomach can’t tolerate food at the moment.”
“I don’t recall asking you, Ian.” Michael said with a small smile.
“Of course not. You are the creator of the atrocious hangover antidote. You must be well aware of how my stomach churns.”
“Perhaps.” Michael said, hiding a knowing smile behind his tea cup. I shook my head, still caught off guard by the sight of a grown man drinking tea out of a tea cup. Ian poured a glass of orange juice for me, and shoved the breakfast tray toward me with a groan.
“Go ahead, love, torture me with your breakfast.” I smiled as I removed the lid with a flourish and saw his face blanch at the smell.
“Gladly.” My laugh may have been a tad wicked, but maybe he’d remember not to overindulge next time. I didn’t have the slightest bit of guilt as I enjoyed the over easy eggs and bacon either.
An hour later the ringing phone interrupted our conversation, and they stepped away to give me privacy as I swiped the screen to open the video call. The sight of my parents sent a pang of homesickness through me. We’d never been so far apart for so long, and knowing it would be an entire year before I saw them again hit me hard.
“Mom, Dad,” I choked up as I said it and Mom blinked back tears of her own.
“Baby girl, I miss you. I wish I could hug you through this phone!” Mom cried, her smile a combination of happy and sad. Dad waved, the emotion on his face betraying him, as he attempted to speak.
“How are you?” The question was expected, but as I answered him I realized how much I meant what I was saying.
“I’m great! I miss you, but I’m happy.” I nodded, keeping my focus on them least my eyes slip to the source of my newfound happiness. “How’s the mission?”
“Oh, it’s wonderful.” Mom gushed, and I noticed a slight sunburn on her face. “The people here are so welcoming and appreciative. We can do so much good.”
“It is far out though. It’s hard to get to a town with good enough reception to call. We were afraid we were going to miss the time we arranged.” Dad interrupted, his face edging into the camera range.
“I’m glad you made it.” I answered as I drank in the sight of them. They’d made mistakes and it could have gone very badly for me, but they meant well. My eyes flickered to Ian for a second, and the memory of his pain at his parent’s rejection made me grateful for my own parent’s unconditional love.
“Us too.” Dad replied and Mom nodded vigorously behind him. “We’ll probably have to switch it to every two weeks though. There’s no way we’ll make it back every week.”
I nodded, even though the thought was painful. Seeing them reminded me that I had missed them. They had been by my side my entire life and this forced separation was painful. Part of me had known it would come when I left for college but I’d always expected to be able to go home on the weekend and hug my mom, eat her famous pot roast, and watch Dad at the pulpit. Those things were impossible for at least the next year, and as I met Ian’s sympathetic eyes I had the feeling it would be longer than a year.
“E
verything going well with Dale?” Dad’s question drew my attention, and I told him a variation of the truth I’d decided on.
“Actually, no.” His forehead wrinkled and Mom looked concerned. “Dale was arrested for child pornography.” I told them baldly, figuring the truth was like a band aid, better to rip it off fast than linger over it.
“What!” Dad’s voice roared and his face flushed to the color of a tomato so fast I was concerned. Mom gasped and patted his shoulder. I decided to keep going, seeing as how the next part was not quite the truth. I had debated my decision to lie to them, but in the end decided it was best for everyone involved.
“I found out when the plane landed.” I waved my hand dismissively. “It was a shock, but I’m fine. Luckily, I met a wonderful family on the flight here. They’re British!” My attempt to be upbeat seemed to work on my mom as she gave me a sickly smile. Dad…not so much.
“A British family?” Mom questioned when no one spoke. I nodded, keeping an eye on the time. Dad limited the calls to ten minutes because of the cost and I was using it to my advantage.
“Yes, and they needed a babysitter for the summer while they stayed in New Orleans. It was obviously God’s hand at work.” I gave them my most angelic look and saw Ian smirk out of the corner of my eye. Dad’s mouth opened and closed at this idea, but he couldn’t argue my words. “I know we don’t have much time and I want you to meet my employer. They are so kind, providing housing and a small stipend for the summer until school starts.” I smiled, taking in their faces since I knew it would be awhile before I saw them again. “I love you both very much. Stay safe and know I’m fine.” I pressed a kiss to my fingers and back toward them. Mom blinked and nodded, and Dad’s lips parted, but I waved Michael over before he said anything. It was hard enough without saying goodbye.
Michael moved into the camera’s view armed with his most charming smile. His custom business suit immediately eased my father’s mind I noticed as I slipped out of view. Ian pulled me into a hug the second I came close and I buried my head in his shoulder, listening to Michael soothe my parents’ concern. He skirted around the half-truths beautifully even with my lack of warning. A minute later they ended the call, and Michael gave me a cautious smile.
“They seem like lovely people.”
I nodded my head against Ian. “They are.” He rubbed my back gently, and I wanted to curl up and cry. His kindness combined with my homesickness left me feeling like a lost puppy. Michael’s gaze flickered to meet Ian’s and the weight of their unspoken conversation pressed down on me.
“The best way to get over an upset is distraction!” Ian declared, rubbing my arms briskly and setting me away from him. He narrowed his eyes at me before giving me a brilliant smile. “And I know just the ticket.”
I raised my eyebrow as I tugged my hair over my shoulder and began braiding it. Michael tucked his hands in his pockets and gave him an inquiring glance. “Do tell.”
“The Garden District. Jane expressed an interest in exploring the old homes there. I think it’s the perfect distraction and after we’ll watch Michael eat those beignets. How does that sound?”
I nodded shyly and then more enthusiastically as I saw Michael’s face.
“These beignets better be good for all the fuss.”
“They are.” I answered brightly, my mood rebounding as I thought about peeking at the magnificent old homes. “But Michael wanted to see the cemeteries.” I remembered suddenly. “We can do that instead since you work so often.”
“Your consideration is greatly appreciated, but the Garden District is fine with me.”
“Luckily for you both I read up on it and there is a cemetery right next to the Garden District. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.” Ian smiled at his own cleverness as I tugged on my shoes.
“Well, that’s settled then.” Michael studied our attire and his nose twitched, but all he said was, “Are you ready to go then?”
“Yes!” I declared, bouncing to my feet.
When the car was brought around, I stood by the back door, insisting on sitting in the back when they argued.
“Love, Michael is accustomed to sitting in the back. That’s how he’s driven around. He doesn’t like American driving.”
“True. I find it utterly ridiculous to have to drive on the right.” Michael opened the front passenger door and waited with a smile. The backup of cars behind us had me sliding in the seat and he gently closed the door. A moment later he was sitting behind me and Ian accelerated out of the garage.
“Is this why Ian normally drives? Because you don’t like to?” I asked, twisting around in my seat.
“Partially. Ian is correct that I usually have Buster chauffeur me. The other reason is that Ian enjoys driving and who would I be to deny him his pleasure?” Michael’s smile was beatific as Ian snorted.
“I do believe you’ve made an art out of denying me my pleasure, brother.” Ian replied with a glance in the rearview mirror. “Don’t let him fool you, love. Michael enjoys lording it over us from the backseat.” Ian’s grin was wicked and Michael didn’t deny the accusation, instead clearing his throat and settling back.
“Where is Buster? He’s usually with one of you, right?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, most often he travels with me, but on occasion he does get fed up with Ian’s antics and needs a day off.” Michael answered dryly from the backseat while Ian gave a sheepish smile. “Buster is indispensable to us which is why I give him a great deal of leeway. He’s proven his loyalty.”
Michael answered several of my questions with his reply and raised a great deal more. He considered Buster family and loyalty was paramount to a man like Michael, and to Ian as well, I noted watching him nod in agreement.
“What exactly does Buster do?” I knew he was their chauffeur and bodyguard, he also offered legal advice, but I wasn’t sure what his primary role was.
“What doesn’t he do might be the better question.” Ian replied with a sideways glance.
“Yes, he is a man of many talents, almost all of which have proven themselves useful over the years. I couldn’t really say what he doesn’t do.” Michael concluded and I nodded.
“So you don’t really need me.” I told them, facing the windshield.
“Why would you say that? Of course we need you.” Ian declared, giving me a shocked stare.
“It pains me, but I must agree with Ian on this. Why would you think we don’t need you?” Michael asked, leaning forward. I hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction to my comment and gave them a surprised look.
“I only meant that you have Buster to take care of problems. You don’t need me to babysit Ian.” The words came out smaller than I intended, as my fear that they didn’t need me shrank my vocal cords.
“Au contraire, my dear. That is precisely why we need you.” Michael leaned back, relaxed now and Ian nodded, pointing to him. “Listen to him, love.”
“Buster, well, he gets a bit irritated with Ian, and I’ve been forced to give him countless raises to keep him because of it. Since you’ve arrived, Ian’s behavior has improved so much that Buster isn’t needed to clean up his messes and instead can spend working hours with me. An arrangement we both find much more satisfactory. You, Jane, are doing us an immense favor by keeping an eye on Ian.”
“Really?” I asked, not having expected their candor. Ian didn’t seem the slightest bit put off by the fact that both his brother and bodyguard openly admitted he needed a babysitter to keep him out of their hair.
“Yes.” Michael’s blunt reply left no room for argument so I settled for staring out the window at the seemingly never-ending swirl of human life that made up New Orleans.
They were a vivid group, colorful and passionate, directly at odds with the gentlemen I found myself in the company of. Something about the city and its people tugged at me. Their zest for life was refreshing as well as freeing. This was a town steeped in history, but everyone here lived for the moment. It was a hug
e party all the time with anything a cause for celebration, even death.
As Ian parked the car, my thoughts scattered, my attention fully taken by the house we’d parked in front of. It had a For Sale sign discreetly tucked against the wrought iron gate, and I could barely make out white columns behind the tangle of overgrown plants in the courtyard. I hopped out of the car and went to the fence, leaning against it as I peered through the curtain of greenery. Ian and Michael came to stand beside me as I inhaled the scent of damp earth.
New Orleans was perched on a swamp, the French Quarter one of the only bits of high land anywhere around, and everything here held the faint whiff of decay due to the constant moisture. It was a city well aware it was here only at Mother Nature’s benevolence and therefore acted accordingly.
“It doesn’t have quite the same history as London, but it does have its own flair.” Michael commented as he studied the house and courtyard.
“It’s like the Secret Garden.” I murmured, completely enthralled by the mysterious house. I could barely make out its shape surrounded as it was by greenery, but the iron gate and cobblestone courtyard painted the picture of a proper Southern plantation. A smile lit my face as I pictured Michael drinking his tea here.
I let go of the fence reluctantly, sorry we couldn’t go inside. Ian held out his arm and I looped my hand around the crook of his elbow as we stepped away from the house. We’d only taken a few steps, with Michael trailing behind us, when I stopped.
I pointed at Michael’s suit jacket and told him, “Take it off.” He glanced around like there was a chance I could be talking to someone else and I marched over to him, tugging on the sleeve. “Off! It’s a hundred degrees out here. You can lose the jacket.” I eyed him and added, “And the tie. Oh, and unbutton your collar.”
He looked aghast at my demand and if I hadn’t been so serious I would have laughed. I could hear Ian snickering behind me though, as Michael slowly shrugged out of his jacket. A quick jerk on the knot at his throat and the tie loosened. I held out my arms and he draped the jacket over them and then the tie.
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