Love Found a Way (Hell Yeah! Book 0)

by Sable Hunter

  “What the hell?”

  He went to the pile and looked down at it. Some of Glory’s personal items were scattered on the ground. Kneeling to look, he could make out her wallet and a few pieces of clothing, including a bra and some tiny, lacy pink panties with black bows. He put the wallet in his pocket to return to her. As he rose, T heard a rustling coming from inside the old shack. “You in there, Glory?”

  The rustling stopped immediately but there was no response. T reasoned maybe Glory was a bit embarrassed, but she had no reason to be afraid of him. If she was in there, she should’ve responded. Sure, it could be a snake or some other animal, but something wasn’t right.

  “This is T-Rex Beaumont speaking and if someone is in there, you’d better make yourself known or I’m comin’ in there to find out for myself.”

  Again, there was no response.

  “All right.” T tossed aside a heavy branch. “I’m comin’ in.”

  A man came walking around from the back of the rubbish just as T was going in. “Hey T. What’s up?”

  T recognized the man immediately. Jimmy Dubois was almost as tall as T, but he was skinny and emaciated. They’d gone to school together and although they hadn’t been friends, they’d known each other in a way folks from a small place always do.

  Jimmy had always been a bad seed and it was no secret in these parts that he was, at the very least, an addict and a petty thief – at the most, he was involved with his smarter, thug brothers and cousins in some nastier operations. T had even caught Jimmy lurking around his place on a few occasions. Bottom line, he didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him.

  T wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Even if he hadn’t seen the pile of Glory’s things on the ground, he knew for certain Jimmy was up to no good.

  Jimmy was always up to no good.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be looting Miss Hudson’s stuff, would you Jimmy?”

  Jimmy stood there in his tattered clothes and did his best to look shocked. “Lootin’ T? What do you mean?”

  T stepped closer so Jimmy could see the intent in his eyes. “We don’t need to be playin’ this game, Jimmy. We both know what you’re up to and I’m gonna be honest with you, fella. I don’t like it.”

  Dubois shrank away a few steps. He’d been caught in the act, but a seasoned junkie like him never admitted wrongdoing no matter how many hands he had in the cookie jar. “I was just gathering up some of Miss Hudson’s things, T. Shame about ol’ Calvin’s place. I know she’s new to the area. I was gonna run her things on over to the bait shop for her.”

  The fact that a guy like Jimmy Dubois knew Glory was staying at the bait shop gave T a chill. “What else did you find, Jimmy?” His mind went straight to the keys to the shop Glory had left at home the night of the storm.

  Dubois looked over at the pile on the ground. “Just the stuff over there. Honest, T. I was just tryin’ to be helpful.”

  T had spent more than a few years hanging around seedy, dangerous places. He’d met his fair share of lowlifes during those times and the one thing he knew about guys like Jimmy Dubois, was that they never helped anybody but themselves. They’d push their own grandmother into traffic for a nickel. He wasn’t buying what Jimmy was trying to sell.

  “Turn out your pockets, Jimmy,” T said in an even tone.

  Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back. “I ain’t turnin’ out nothin’.”

  T reached out a hand and snatched Jimmy by the collar. “If I have to hold you upside down and shake you like a cartoon character, I will.”

  Dubois steeled his eyes for a moment, but the courage quickly drained as he felt T’s grip on his shirt tighten. “Fine, don’t get crazy on me.”

  Jimmy’s jibe struck T hard. How sad that this creep could have ammunition to hit him with. “Better watch me, Dubois. No telling what I’ll do.”

  Jimmy quickly thrust his hands down into the pockets of his worn jeans and came out with a necklace and the keys to the bait shop in his hand.

  T took the items. “What were you plannin’ on doing with these?”

  “I told you. I was going to return them to Miss Hudson. I hear she’s been stayin’ over at Calvin’s old bait shack now.”

  Fuck! Jimmy’s confirmation of what he suspected made T’s stomach hurt. Word sure travelled quick in these parts. T-Rex pushed him away. “It’s in your best interest to forget what you heard, Jimmy. If I see you sniffin’ around that place. Hell, if I even hear that you were in there buying gator bait, I’m gonna come find you and you and I are gonna have a little talk. Comprende, Amigo?”

  T didn’t need to explain, Jimmy was being told to stay clear of Glory Bee Hudson and the bait shop and when T-Rex Beaumont spoke, even a fool like Jimmy Dubois better listen.

  After their discussion, Jimmy slunk away into the brush, pissed off that he’d lost a big score, but glad to be getting away in one piece.

  *

  “Are those my clothes?” Glory was behind the counter when T arrived at the shop and she came around to meet him.

  T held the fruits of Jimmy Dubois’ rummaging labor in his arms. The clothes were still damp and he dropped the armful on the counter for Glory to go through. “I made a quick stop and gathered some of your things.” He thought about telling her someone else had been going through her stuff, touching her unmentionables, but T decided she’d already been through enough, it was best not to traumatize her further. “Oh, and here’s your wallet.”

  “Oh, great! Thank you! I needed that so much.” She smiled, then looked down to see what else he’d found. Glory was mortified to see a pair of her laciest panties in the pile. The baby pink fabric was mud-smeared, but there was no denying they were designed to entice. She hoped T hadn’t noticed them and quickly pulled them off the countertop and tossed them onto a shelf below. If he were going to see them, she’d rather be wearing them when he did.

  “You didn’t have to do that, T.” Glory could still feel the burn of the blush on her cheeks. “I was going to go over and search some more, but I’ve just been so busy. Since the shop doesn’t get much business, I’ve been going door to door, lining up some extra work. Cooking. Weeding people’s flower beds. Laundry. Other stuff.” She let her voice trail off. This man wasn’t interested in her problems.

  Hearing she was having such a hard time worried him, but he had to admire her backbone. Glory didn’t sit around and wait for somebody to do something for her, she tackled her own problems with gusto. “There are a lot of good people around here, Miss Hudson. People who want to help out in a time like this.”

  Glory rifled through the pile in front of her on the counter, keeping a careful eye out for more risqué scraps of attire. “Is that what you came here for, T? To help me out?” He’d already gone above and beyond, but she was glad to see him and that gorgeous face of his.

  “Buford and I were gonna go out fishin’ this morning, when I realized I needed some night-crawlers.”

  “Bait?” Glory pooched her lips. “Well darn. And here I thought it was me you were coming to see.” She came around the counter. “Follow me.”

  “Gladly,” T said under his breath as she led him to the cooler in the back.

  T’s eyes were glued to her rear as Glory walked in front of him. She had on a pair of snug cotton shorts that clung to every delicious curve. Saints above, this woman was going to be the death of him. Fuck fishing. He was going to have to go home right straight after this and rub one out before his dick exploded.

  “Are you hungry?” Glory asked after she rang him up.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I asked if you were hungry. I have a pot of gumbo in my slow-cooker. I’d be glad to get you some.” She smiled. “Maybe give you a nice massage afterward?” The man had been very clear he wasn’t interested in her, but Glory just couldn’t help herself. Her body took possession of her mind when he was around and she said things without thinking.

  “I’ll gladly take a bowl of gu
mbo. But I think I’ll pass on the massage.” His decision to ignore her flirting pained him. T would’ve rather swiped the pile of Glory’s clothes off the counter and bent her over it right then and there, but he felt a duty to protect her and that meant protecting her from him as well as from the likes of Jimmy Dubois.

  The words of his slight registered with Glory, but it was like water off a duck’s back, she was getting used to it. It had almost become a little game they played with each other. “No problem. Wait here. I’ll go get you a bowl.”

  The idea of luring him to the small back room appealed to Glory, but she didn’t want T to see the pitiful way she was living.

  Once she returned and gave him the food, she hopped up on a stool to watch him eat.

  “Oh, my god, this is incredible, Glory.” T sighed with satisfaction after he tasted the first spoonful. “The only thing that I know tastes better is your lips.”

  Shit!

  Had he just said that out loud?

  Glory looked at him across the counter. Her lips instantly curling into a big smile. T’s words stole her breath. “You thought about how I taste?”

  Luckily for T, the bell above the front door dinged and two old codgers came walking in with their waders on. T saw the opportunity to make a timely escape. He placed the bowl down on the counter and rose.

  “You haven’t finished,” Glory exclaimed as he started to go.

  “I need to get back to Buford.” He started to go, but stopped. “I almost forgot.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket. “I found these. Make sure you lock your doors, Miss Hudson. There’s a lot of strange people lurking in the woods at night.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, her eyes followed him hungrily as he headed out.

  He might not count himself as one of the strange people, but T knew he’d be lurking out in the woods around Calvin’s Bait Shop tonight and every night until he was sure Glory was safe.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What’s up, Jones?”

  T-Rex picked up his tablet, then stepped from the truck, holding his cell between his shoulder and his ear. He’d put in a hard day’s work and he felt worn to a frazzle, most probably because he’d been losing a lot of sleep. Spending most of every night standing guard at Calvin’s Bait Shop was taking the starch out of him. He’d taken to driving his truck up fairly close and dozing in it, that way if anyone else came around or if there was any type of disturbance, he’d be Johnny-on-the-spot.

  “I need you and your houseboat, friend.”

  “Sure thing, name the time and the place.” T bounded up the steps and onto his porch.

  “I’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll head up the Teche. There’s a hunting camp about a mile and a half away, we’re supposed to pick some folks up there. A film crew wants some filler footage, a little background info and hopefully some shots of area wildlife. I told them they ought to interview you. Nobody knows more about this swamp than you do.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll be glad to help you.” As T processed what Revel was asking, he fetched himself a cold drink from the fridge, popped the top, and took a long drink. He was used to hearing about Hollywood types coming around, Louisiana swamp shows were a dime a dozen these days. In fact, Glory had said something about…

  “I know I’m right, you’re the authority in these parts. They’re filming a lot of footage during alligator season, but they want to make sure they have enough background shots. Just think, you might see yourself on television.” Revel chuckled. “You might even get discovered, be the next movie heartthrob.”

  “Now you’ve quit making sense and just started spouting foolishness.” T laughed at the absurdity. “I’ll need to be back by midnight.” He wanted to make sure he was in position to babysit Glory Bee.

  “What? Do you turn into a pumpkin on the first stroke?”

  “Do you really want to talk about stroking?”

  Revel laughed uproariously. “Not with you, not really.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  By the time they hung up, T was in a good mood. His friend Revel never ceased to lift his spirits.

  Later on, he found himself at his post, staring hard at the small window, hungry to catch any glimpse of Glory that he could.

  Inside… Glory put the finishing touches on the etouffee. Her first ever catering job was tomorrow, and she’d had to move heaven and earth to get ready for it. After losing the crawfish she’d caught, Glory was afraid it was all over but the crying. She’d been just about ready to call Mr. Maytag and cancel when a solution had walked through the door. An odd little man named Jimmy Dubois had come to her rescue. Upset, Glory had been about to cry. When he asked her what was wrong, she poured out her troubles. Part of her wanted to ask T-Rex for help, but she didn’t want him to accuse her of cooking up more excuses to spend time with him.

  Once she’d explained, Dubois got a strange expression on his face. He looked around, narrowed his eyes and told her he’d make sure she had enough crawfish to fill her needs. Then, he promptly asked her out on a date. The man weirded her out. Spending time alone with him was the last thing she wanted to do. But since she was between a rock and a hard place, Glory agreed to pay the price he demanded.

  A date.

  She could still recall the conversation clearly.

  “Is something wrong, pretty lady?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Now, Jimmy can tell that isn’t true. Why don’t you unload your troubles on me? I’ve got broad shoulders.”

  His shoulders were narrow as far as Glory could see.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” He crossed his scrawny arms over his concave chest. “I’m gonna plant myself right here until you pour out your heart.”

  Not wanting him to linger any longer than necessary, she recounted her sad tale. After she did, he snapped his fingers and gave her a big smile, revealing a bad tooth. “I just happen to have some crawfish traps handy. I bet I can rustle up more than you can use.”

  Glory wasn’t sure. “I don’t have much money.”

  “Oh, you can afford this price.”

  “How much?”

  “Spend the evening with me. A date. Just you and me. We’ll go on a picnic in the woods, nothing fancy.” He gave her a lascivious wink. The expression on his face made her shiver. “If you’ll bring the food, I’ll bring the drink.”

  The prospect of seeing Jimmy Dubois socially was not high on her agenda. But she did have a crawfish emergency. “All right, I agree.” They agreed to set a time when he returned with his catch.

  Glory had hoped he’d forget, but when he showed up with two big coolers full of the Louisiana mud bugs, he wasted no time reminding her of the deal they’d made. She’d been forced to name a day and time. Now, unfortunately, she had something to look forward to next weekend.

  *

  “All of Louisiana is rich in legend and lore, but the swamps around Loreauville are special. If over three hundred years of history and twenty-five hundred square miles of moss-draped wetlands aren’t enough, you can add pirates, the Rougaroux, swamp monsters, voodoo witches and traiteurs to the mix to get an idea of the rich tapestry of our home.” T rattled out his traditional spiel, the same one he used in several programs on the area’s folk life.

  “What’s a traiteur?” Rich Farley asked as he held onto the railing of the boat with both hands. He kept staring, easing over to glance at the water, then pulling back. T kept envisioning the big snake from the movie Anaconda rising up to snatch him overboard.

  “A traiteur is a Cajun faith healer. They use a combination of laying on of hands, scripture, and a bit of hoodoo thrown in for good measure. I knew one well; her maiden name was Cady Renaud. She is so powerful she can make paraplegics walk. They say Cady is an empath as well as a traiteur. Of course, she comes from a family of witches, I’m sure that helps.” He didn’t bother to tell them the woman was currently married to one of the wealthiest ranchers in Texas. No use spoiling the spo
oky tale with the rest of the story.

  Revel hid a smile when he saw the two city-folk looking at one another with wide eyes. The third man, wielding a camera, was recording the whole excursion for posterity. The day had been well spent, floating down one tributary after another. They’d seen half a dozen gators, a deer, a small bobcat, some nutria rats, and several snakes. T would’ve given a hundred bucks if one of those snakes had fallen in the boat the way one did him and Buford the other day. He’d have bet his bottom dollar these men would’ve dove headfirst into the swamp trying to get away from it.

  “You don’t really believe all of that voodoo/hoodoo stuff do you?” Sherman Maytag inquired as he sat on a barrel near the bow. A fishing line hung over the side at his elbow, baited with a piece of chicken that wasn’t quite touching the water.

  Revel took this one. “Voodoo and hoodoo are two very different things, Mr. Maytag.”

  “How so?”

  “Voodoo is a religion; hoodoo is folk magic.” Revel explained as he kept his eyes on something just under the water, coming toward them at a fast clip.

  “Sounds the same to me,” their client mused.

  “There are some similarities,” Revel explained. “Voodoo calls for the worship of gods called loas, while hoodoo is a celebration of personal power using herbs, crystals, and candle-magic.”

  “Still sounds the same.” Maytag puffed on a cigar, causing T-Rex to cough.

  “You wouldn’t think so, if you ran into the right person.” T grinned, thinking about Nana Fontenot. “I know a woman who can tell you secrets about yourself you don’t even want to remember.”

  “Voodoo?” Maytag asked.

  “Hoodoo.” Revel shook his head. “Nana Fontenot helped me find my wife when she was missing.”

  T cut Revel a glance when he mentioned Nana. He still hadn’t forgotten what she’d said – especially in light of his weird non-relationship with Glory.

  Maytag frowned. “Malarkey. What’s a Rougaroux?”

  Not liking Maytag’s attitude, T decided to delay warning him about what was fast approaching on the starboard side until the last possible moment. “Basically, a Cajun werewolf. There are different beliefs as to how they came to be, whether a man was bitten by a wolf or cursed by a voodoo priestess. Either way, they aren’t nearly as scary as what’s coming after you.” He pointed to the water.