by Louise, Tia
“Let me go first.”
We go to the door, I show my ID, but Lara’s is in the black hoodie she gave to Joshua. Exchanging a glance, I’m not sure what to do.
The doorman doesn’t even hesitate. “No ID, no entry.”
“Joshua has it—it’s in my wallet in his pocket,” she says, clasping her hands like she’s begging the guy. “You’re his uncle, right? I’m Lara… Molly’s sister.”
He does a double take, brow furrowed. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Are Joshua and Molly inside? I could go and find them—”
Lara cuts me off with a glare. I know she doesn’t want me to go without her. Still, we’re running out of time.
“They just ran in.” Another group of people crowds up behind us, and the guy waves us in. “Hurry up and come back as soon as you have it. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
I doubt he’ll leave this spot, but Lara thanks him. I give him a twenty for the cover charge, and we pull the door open. Electric guitar chords blast us in the face, and we push inside, making our way to the center, around to the staircase leading to the small booth overlooking the dance floor.
“Think he’s up there?” I’m right in Lara’s ear doing my best not to blast her eardrum.
Still, she pulls back and rubs her ear. “It’s so loud!”
We both look up, and I see a flash of light behind the closed blinds. Our eyes meet, and we run to the steps. A velvet rope is stretched across the bottom, but we push it aside. A male voice shouts behind us as we run up to Gavin’s office, and I’m digging in my pocket for my badge. It’s no good here. I’m out of district, but they don’t know that.
Catching Lara’s shoulder, I hold her behind me as I reach for the door handle, crouching as I push it open and run inside. It’s a small space, but it still takes me a second to register what’s happening on the other side of the door.
Joshua is on the floor, his head bleeding. Gavin’s back is to me, and against the wall, lifted by one of his meaty fists is Molly. Her face is purple, and her eyes are closed. He’s strangling her, and from the looks of it, she’s almost gone.
“NO!”
It’s the last thing I hear before another sharp pop!
Blood splatters against the wall in a flash, like someone threw a balloon full of red paint.
Gavin’s body flies forward as his grip on Molly releases.
I dash forward to catch her falling body, dropping to my knees and holding her up as she gasps for breath.
I look over my shoulder, and Lara stands with her arm still raised.
Molly’s small pink gun is in her hand.
21
She built the kingdom she wanted.
Lara
The gun in my hand feels too small to have taken down the man who was such an enormous presence in my life for so long.
The shot felt too quiet.
The room feels so still.
Like the calm when low tide is pulled out by a storm.
Just as fast, it all comes rushing back. I’m across the room, on my knees beside Mark when the men storm into Gavin’s office.
“Molly?” Tears blur my vision as I stroke her hair away from her face.
She’s not okay. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she can’t speak. Closing her eyes again, she seems to go to sleep.
“What’s going on in here? Bris?” One of the men goes to Gavin lying on the floor. “He’s dead!”
They turn on us, but Mark stops them by holding up his badge. “Mark Fitzhugh, detective. Call 911,”
Without hesitation, one of them grabs the phone off Gavin’s desk.
“Molly, please…” I’m holding her hand, not even caring what’s happening around us, not looking at Gavin’s body dead on the floor. “Please wake up.”
Mark’s arm goes around my shoulder, and he pulls me close, speaking low. “She needs to be checked for internal injuries, but she’s strong.”
Still holding her hand, I look over my shoulder to Joshua. He’s sitting up, but he’s holding his head, seeming dazed.
“What happened to you?” The bartender asks him. “I’ll get your uncle.”
“It’s okay,” Joshua says, looking around the room. His eyes land on Molly, and he pushes off the floor, crawling to where she lies. “Did he hurt her?”
“He was choking her, but Lara stopped him,” Mark says quietly. “Gavin is dead. I need you to tell me exactly what happened here.”
Their eyes meet, but we’re interrupted by the arrival of EMS. They push us aside, telling us to leave the room while they take Molly’s vitals and then load her onto a stretcher. Joshua quickly stands and falls back, avoiding their notice, but I rush forward.
“Please…” I touch the paramedic’s arm. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Are you a relative?”
“I’m her sister.” The lie has become so common, it feels like the truth.
“Her pulse is strong. If you’d like to meet us at the hospital, here’s the card.”
I take the white slip of paper, and they carry her out. The music downstairs has stopped, and all the house lights are on. Bouncers are clearing the bar, and I look over at Joshua.
“Do you still have my wallet? In your pocket?”
He reaches in the hoodie pocket and pulls out a small leather case. “Sorry.” He hands it to me. “Didn’t know that was in there.”
We make our way down the stairs and out to the street. Mark slips his phone into his coat pocket.
“I called a Lyft to take you to the hospital,” he says. “Tell me what happened so I can give a report.”
“It was all pretty fast.” Joshua touches the cut on his head. It’s already starting to bruise. “She was ahead of me, running after him. I don’t know why he was on foot, but we followed him here. He went into his office first… Molly was right behind him. When I went in, something slammed into my head. There was a gunshot. That’s all I remember.”
A silver car pulls up at the curb.
“You need to get that checked at the hospital.” Mark points to Josh’s head before pulling me to his chest. “Look at me.” Our eyes meet, and warmth floods my chest. “It’s over. Don’t think about it any more. Stay with Molly, and I’ll meet you there.”
Leaning down, he kisses me gently, pushing my lips apart and sweeping his tongue into mine. My entire body relaxes against his, and I believe him.
“You okay?”
Reaching up, I touch his cheek. “Is he really dead?”
“He’s dead.”
For the first time in my life, I feel an enormous weight lifting off my shoulders. Is it possible they’re all dead? The list is clear?
Climbing into the backseat of the car beside Joshua, I’m still internalizing the meaning of what happened.
They’re all gone.
Several hours later we’re back at Joshua’s apartment. Molly is lying on the bed, and Joshua has a bandage on his forehead. He’s boiling water for hot tea, and he keeps telling me she’s going to be okay. I’m trying not to hover, because I know she hates that. I can’t believe they let her come home, but apparently, being stubborn works in hospitals as well.
Mark is on the phone with the charter plane, and I’m putting the last of my things in my small bag.
Going to the bedside, I sit on the edge. “The doctor said your voice should be back to normal in a few days.” Her hand is on top of the blankets, so I cover it with mine. “You want to stay here?”
She nods, her eyes fixed on the place where my hand touches hers. “Joshua wants me to stay.” Her voice is a husky whisper. “He says it’s easy to find work, and… I don’t know.”
Her hesitation makes me smile. “You like him.”
A frown wrinkles her forehead, and she doesn’t meet my gaze. “I like being here. I’ve met people, made friends.”
“Will you come to New Orleans for the wedding?”
That question does lift her eyes to mine. “You’re going to live the
re?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Mark wants to apply to the department there. He’d like to try and do some good in the city.”
“Still trying to be a hero,” she rasps.
“He is a hero.”
“You’re the hero.” Determination flickers in her eyes like anger. “You always were. I just never knew it.”
My chest fills, but I swallow the tears. “If there can be heroes in this twisted game we were forced to play, we’re all heroes. We did this together.”
“But you killed Guy. Then you killed Gavin.”
“To protect you.”
She studies our hands, then she turns hers so our palms meet, our fingers twine. “You’re not my mother.” It’s not a jab, merely a neutral statement of fact.
“No, but I promised to take care of you. Then I promised to help you see this through.”
“You have your own daughter now.”
“Still, a promise is a promise.”
I can’t begin to tell her how rescuing her from the street, sharing my bed and my food, taking care of her all those nights made her as much a part of my life as any family member.
As I think about it, sister seems right.
“So I’ll see you in a few weeks?”
“Is that all it’s going to take?”
Mark joins us at the bed, and I grin as I stand. “If it were up to him, we’d have done it the day we got here… while we were waiting on you.”
“Pilot’s waiting on us. Says we can fly all night, sleep on the plane.”
Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead. “I’ll keep you posted on everything. You keep in touch.”
She nods and looks down at her hands. Joshua steps up and holds out a hand. His other is in the back pocket of his dark jeans.
“Safe flight.” That signature easy grin is back.
I bypass the handshake and give him a hug. “Thank you so much for everything. Giving us a place to crash, taking care of Molly…”
He hugs me back. “Happy to help. And we’ll be at the wedding.” I get a wink, and it makes me smile.
Mark takes my hand, and as much as I’m ready to be back with Jillian, my feet are slow to walk away from Molly. It’s so hard.
“Just… be safe.”
“It’ll be a lot easier to do that now,” Josh says.
Molly doesn’t answer, and somehow, it’s hard to believe him.
* * *
Mark
Three thousand feet above the surface of the earth, my mind slips away on a mind-blowing orgasm, my cock buried in Lara’s luscious depths.
She’s facing me, sitting on my lap in the bed. My back is propped against several pillows on the headboard, and her breasts are at my mouth. I pull a tight nipple between my lips, and I’m rewarded with an internal clench, a hit of ecstasy.
“Yeah,” I groan. “Welcome to the mile-high club.”
She laughs, kissing my lips. “Much better to join it in a bed, I think. Rather than a cramped little bathroom.”
My arms are tight around her waist, and her dark hair falls over my shoulders, all around us. It’s so good to be flying back to our baby, the nightmare of our past effectively ended.
While she was at the hospital with Molly, I visited the Seattle police department, where I learned six members of the sex ring were arrested. Several were wanted on previous assault and trafficking charges. Donovan confirmed my efforts in Juneau, tracking men crossing the boarder, and by putting it together with what we’d done here, it got us to ten either dead or in jail.
Police aren’t convinced we’ve captured every member of the international club, but we crippled the group’s Pacific Northwest base.
Gavin and his threats against Lara are over, and I’d been able to explain his shooting as self-defense. Molly’s injuries reinforced my statement. It took a little work, but Donovan’s good relations with the SPD chief helped.
I agreed to write a report once we get back to New Orleans and fax it to them. Since Gavin has no living family, they don’t expect any questions other than possible insurance interests.
The only outstanding variable is Landry, but with Gavin gone, I don’t see why he’d bother us. If he’s even still alive.
Lara’s mouth tracing a line from my ear to my temple pulls me back to the beautiful woman straddling my lap. Holding her steady, I ease us down into the bed, turning her body so I can spoon her against my chest.
“So a couple of weeks?” I kiss the side of her neck and she does a little sigh.
“I figured if you were ready in Seattle, you’d be ready in a month?”
“I’m ready now.”
Her hands move down my forearms. She traces the lines on my skin with her fingers before threading them through mine.
“Roland will help me. I kind of hoped we might be able to have the reception at Preservation Hall. Will they let us do that?”
“I bet they will.”
Her body is relaxing, her voice taking on the sound of sleep. “I want to dance with you under the stars. No more fear of the dark.”
“Just tell me where to be, and I’m there.” I kiss her hair behind her ear. “In the meantime, I’ll find us a place to live.”
She exhales a hum, and I listen to the sound of the jets taking us home to our daughter. The shade over the little round window is raised, and I look out at the streaks of the dawn we’re chasing.
The sun is just at the edge of the horizon, and long white clouds stretch along the clear blue sky. Only they’re not white. They’re neon pink, lavender blue, deep red-orange lightening to yellow.
I think about my dad, and I think about my uncle. They’ll never see the sunrise in all its splendid glory again. They’re in boxes underground. Their eyes are gone, and their bodies are gone as well.
Did they gaze in awe of it like I’m doing now?
Did they cherish the love of a beautiful woman, the touch of her soft body, and the kiss of her lips?
Just like my family, Gavin and Guy, the men who chased her, who tormented her, are also gone.
As the sunrise grows less pinkish-blue and more yellow, I try to sort these ideas in my mind, to understand what they mean.
No matter who you are or what you do, the moment you die, it’s over. The clock stops, time is up. No more chances to change your path or make amends, no more chances to make things right…
Or wrong.
Everything up to that moment is frozen in time.
Lara’s breath is a gentle whisper in the room. Sliding my palm along the smooth skin of her arm, holding her against me, I dip my chin to kiss her neck. She makes a happy sound, and warmth moves through my stomach.
I left home all those years ago wanting to be one of the good guys. I met her, and I found a way to be a hero. The chapter is closed, and we’ve gotten a lot of answers. We can put that book on the shelf.
Still, our time isn’t over.
We’ll be married, join our lives, take care of Jillian, and hopefully have more children… The clock is still going, still time to do good, to make a difference, to be heroes.
22
Don’t let the bitter steal your sweet.
Lara
A light mist shrouds the enormous black iron planter at the entrance to the square. It’s early and the green space is empty, the curved walkways leading to the front of the cathedral quiet and touched with dew.
Another hour, and it will be flooded with street vendors and tourists, but for these magical minutes, it’s deserted, serene.
Burning yellow sunlight filters through the dark spires high above, causing the gray slate tiles to shimmer. Crosses stand like beacons between each, and like everything since we returned to the city, the edifice doesn’t feel ominous anymore. It feels hopeful.
The large gas lanterns at the entrance on Decatur Street are still lit, and dawn is just touching the glossy green leaves of the banana trees clustered along the wrought iron fence.
It rained earlier, but humidity still hangs heavy in the
air. The flagstone sidewalks are glassy, and Molly steps up to me holding a bouquet of deep blue iris flowers mixed with moonflowers and white roses.
My dress is ivory gossamer fabric over a light sheath. Lace patterns cover the bodice over flesh-toned fabric, and my hair is smoothed into a bun at the nape of my neck. I’m not wearing a veil. We decided to forego such traditions, since Evie is down front holding our daughter.
“You look beautiful,” Molly says quietly.
“So do you.”
She’s wearing a short gray dress made of flowing silk held up by spaghetti straps. A silk sash is around her waist, and her long hair falls over her shoulders.
“I wanted to give you this.” She holds out her palm, and a rectangular piece of plastic sits in it.
“What is it?”
“He had them all on his computer. Probably watched them, the perv.”
My brow furrows, and I realize she means Gavin. “These are the videos?”
“Yeah. I made sure they’re all there then I wiped his hard drive.” Her lips tighten, and she lifts her chin to look up at the spires. “I don’t recommend watching them… unless you have to.”
“But… how?”
“I went back after they sent me home.” She blinks back to me. “I had a hunch. It didn’t take long to find them.”
Roland appears, walking quickly toward us from the direction of the cathedral doors. “We should probably get moving if we’re going to beat the crowds.”
A noise to the right makes us all look to see a street vendor opening a large yellow umbrella lined with feathers.
“You’re right,” I say, gathering the train of my dress and turning to follow him, the thumb drive hidden in my palm against the flowers.
He’s wearing a light gray, three-piece suit, and he holds out an arm. I take it, and Molly follows behind us. We don’t have permission to be here doing this, so we’re not only hoping to beat the crowds, we’re hoping to beat the constable, too.
A friend of Roland’s who was a minister in a former life waits at the fountain on the other side of the iron monument, and another of Roland’s friends plays Pachelbel’s Canon on the accordion. We walk past the ancient, oversized palms clustered beneath the sweeping live oak trees with their dark branches hanging low.