The bent metal edge of the dishwasher was all she found, so she scooted on her ass toward it and placed her hands behind her back to rub them up and down the metal edge. At the same time, she applied pressure, trying to move her hands apart, anything to stretch and weaken the zip tie.
When she heard sounds outside, she panicked, glanced at the rope, and scurried on her knees toward it to resume her position, lying on her side, her body hiding the end of the rope he’d used to secure her.
He carried in two plastic grocery bags, filled with what appeared to be clothing. Women’s clothing. Likely some of Floret’s drab dresses.
He tossed the bags beside her.
She came up on an elbow. “These for me?” she said, her tone uninflected. This might be her chance. She didn’t want him reading her intent in her eyes, so she kept her gaze on the floor, appropriately submissive. When he didn’t answer, she said, “I can’t change, if that’s what you want me to do, not tied up like this.”
“A wife shouldn’t dress like a man.”
When he went to his knees beside her, she slowly moved to her knees then waited for him to get within range…
Remy ducked as he ran back to where he’d left Thibaut cooling his heels. He jerked his finger over his shoulder toward the small shack in the corner lot. “Can’t see inside. The windows are boarded up, but I saw light through the cracks. And we know the power was shut off months ago, so it’s a squatter or it’s—”
“He’s here.” Thibaut watched as SWAT team members, dressed in black to blend with the night, crouched behind their tactical vehicle, waiting for the signal to move across the street and breach the door. Damned if he’d let them go in without him.
“You’ll sit tight…let us do our job…?” his brother said, arching a brow.
“Sure.”
Remy shook his head. “Just don’t get in the way.” He bent again and ran toward the team, just now heading out in single file toward the front door.
Thibaut knew there were uniforms stationed all around the house, but he knew how to be stealthy, too. He made his way in the shadows, moving as quickly as he could until he reached a side window covered in plywood, with one corner pried open away from the frame.
He listened, heard the loud knock on the front door, the shout of the team leader ordering Fowler to open the door. He used the noise to mask his movements as he pulled the sheet off the window then planted his hands on the frame and hoisted himself over the sill. Once he dropped softly to the floor, he drew his weapon, moving through an empty bedroom and into the hall.
“You get off my porch, or I’ll kill her,” Fowler shouted.
Light spread across the end of the hall, and Thibaut ducked into a doorway, peering around the frame to see Fowler kneeling in front of Amelie and her on her knees with her hands tied behind her back.
His entire body tensed. He’d kill the fucking bastard for this. Just as he decided to dart forward and take him to the ground, Amelie reared back her head and hit Fowler square in the forehead.
“Bitch!” Fowler said, falling back on his ass.
Amelie lurched to her feet and started to move past Fowler, but he grabbed her ankle, toppling her to the floor. Then he was on her back, raising the knife he held—
Thibaut roared forward, caught his wrist, and twisted it until he heard it crack. The knife fell with a clunk to the floor.
The sound of Fowler’s scream was lost when the front door splintered, and the SWAT team spilled through the open doorway.
“Hey, Thibaut,” Remy said, rushing up beside him. “We got this. Why don’t you get Amelie out of here?”
Thibaut shook with fury from head to foot. He tightened his grasp on Fowler’s crushed wrist, satisfaction burning through him as Fowler whimpered.
But then he saw Amelie come to her knees. One of the SWAT team members cut the tie at her wrists. She pushed back her dark hair, which was dusted with dirt. One side of her face looked swollen, and there was blood running from her nose to her mouth.
He gave Fowler a swift kick in the gut and stepped over him to get to Amelie as the SWAT team swarmed around Fowler. Going to his knees, Thibaut opened his arms, afraid to reach for her because he didn’t want to add to her injuries.
She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him, her body shuddering as she began to sob. “He wanted me to be his wife. Said I took his.”
Slowly, he placed his arms around her and rocked her in his embrace. He kissed her forehead. “He can’t have you. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
He held her for a few more minutes, but he knew they had to move. He held her away from his body, stood, then bent and scooped her up in his arms.
When he walked past the SWAT team, they made room, giving them approving nods. Outside, he walked toward the open backdoor of an ambulance and set her on the top step.
“I don’t need to go to the hospital. He hit me a few times, but my brains aren’t rattled or anything,” she said.
He nodded, not nearly satisfied, but if he had to, he’d watch over and wake her every few hours, just to make sure she was okay. “This is becoming a habit,” he said, reaching up as an EMT handed him saline in a bottle and a stack of gauze squares.
As he began cleaning away the dirt and blood, he noted her watery eyes and wobbling chin. “You’re strong, Amelie. More warrior than most men I’ve known. You did good.”
She sniffed and gave a choked laugh. “I wasn’t going to let him have me. Not without one helluva fight.”
Thibaut’s hand shook as he mopped up the dried blood beneath her nose, then soothed the bruised flesh at her wrists. “I’m sorry I fucked up, leaving you to settle Josette. I should’ve insisted you come up with us.”
“Don’t,” she said resting her hand on his arm. “We couldn’t have known he’d followed us there. The man’s crazy as a loon. There was no predictin’ what he was gonna do.”
As he set the gauze aside, Remy approached. “I can give you a ride back to the folks’ place. We’ll get your statements in the morning.”
“How about you drop us at the Bourbon Orleans. I still have a room there. It’ll be quieter. You can call Mama and let her know we’re all right.”
At the hotel, Thibaut sat Amelie in an armchair then went to the bathroom to prepare a bath. He used the bodywash on the counter to add suds and set the temperature as hot as he thought she could stand it. She’d need the heat to ease sore muscles. Then he led her inside and quickly stripped her of her clothing.
“I don’t have anything clean to wear after…”
“I’m sure I have a shirt and running shorts. We’ll make do.” He held out his hand to assist her into the tub.
She hissed when the water closed over her toes. “Damn, it’s hot.”
“Trust me. Give it a minute. You need this.”
She sat, grimacing, but then she relaxed a little more, reclining against the end of the tub in the bubbles. “See what you mean. You have to do this often?”
He grunted and reached for the shampoo. “Duck your head.”
He washed her hair and used a glass from the counter to rinse it clean, then he massaged conditioner into her curls, enjoying the way the strands wrapped around his fingers. “I like it shorter like this.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s a lot less work. Wash and go, mostly. A little oil now and then to keep it from gettin’ brittle.”
He took a washcloth and poured more of the bodywash onto the cloth before lifting her arm. He scrubbed her entire body then let her rest against the back again. Her eyelids drooped. Soon, she’d be ready to sleep.
He dried her off then wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body, and then led her back into the bedroom. After turning down the cover, he took the towels. “Go on and get in. I’ll grab a quick shower and be right back.”
“Okay,” she said sleepily. “I’ll be here…”
She was asleep before he closed the door.
Amelie awoke
in the darkness.
A bedside lamp clicked on, and Thibaut turned to glance at her eyes. “You feelin’ okay?”
“Yeah. I just woke in the dark. For a second…”
He lay back and extended his arm. “Come here.”
She moved toward him and cuddled close against his side. He wrapped his arm around her body and kissed her forehead. She snuggled closer. “The whole time I was with him, I had so many regrets.”
Thibaut didn’t say anything, he just smoothed his hand over her hip, a gentle motion meant to comfort.
“I was afraid I wouldn’t get a chance to tell you how I feel,” she whispered.
Tears stung her eyes, and she reached up to wipe them away, but he got there first, using his thumb to dry them.
“I never stopped loving you, Thibaut. Never. But I got angry and hurt and tried to shut those feelings away. But the second I saw you again, it all hit me like a wave.”
He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “No, you don’t have to say anything. I just thought, tonight, that you should know… I love you.”
She tried to smile, but tears were still coming.
Thibaut groaned and rolled toward her, taking her to her back. When he was settled, his weight resting on his elbows, he placed his palms gently on either side of her face. Then he bent and kissed her cheeks, one then the other. When he drew back, his eyes gleamed with moisture. “I’ve loved you since I was eleven, Amelie. Most of my life. There was no turning it off just because I thought you abandoned us. I’ve never felt this way for another woman, not even close. And now that you’ve put it out there, said you love me, too, I’m not ever lettin’ you take it back.”
Then he leaned down again, this time taking her mouth in the softest kiss.
She figured he was afraid of hurting her, so she wound her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to her body. “I like it when you weigh me down,” she whispered. “I can hardly breathe, and it gets so hot. And things start to happen, deep inside me…”
“What things?” he said in a soft growl.
She had him now. “Wet things. Tight things. My pussy squeezes ’cause it’s empty.”
“Damn, you’re talkin’ dirty again, girl.” He smoothed a hand over her hair then carefully cupped the back of her head. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Thibaut Cyr, you better fuck me now.”
“Sounded like there’s an ‘or else’.”
She tapped his bottom lip. “Or else, I’ll never deep throat you again.” Then she licked her lips and glared, just to make sure he knew good and well she’d give him trouble if he didn’t do something quick.
He jogged his eyebrows up and down. “Cher, open those pretty legs and let me in.”
Chapter 17
Three weeks later…
Amelie had been grumpy all day, snipping at him over the littlest things. He understood why she was so on edge. She was scared.
Early the next morning, Remy was picking him up to take him to the airport. By noon tomorrow, he’d be back at Pendleton. And although he’d told her he planned to put in his papers and return, she still had doubts. She thought maybe when he left the craziness that was living in New Orleans, he’d come to his senses—her words.
What she didn’t know was her worries would soon be over, and she’d understand exactly where she stood in his life and his heart.
But first, he had to get through this family party.
When he pulled up to his parents’ house, he had to park on the road there were so many cars. Long banquet tables were set on the lawn. Each with citronella candles holding down red and white checkered tablecloths. He and his father had gone crabbing to provide part of this night’s feast. Amelie had wanted to join them, but she’d been busy at the shop painting walls, arranging the new furniture inside Josette’s reading room, and unpacking new items to replace stock damaged in the fire. The shop was nearly ready to reopen. He was sad he wouldn’t be there to see it.
His ETS was scheduled for the fall, but with all the leave he’d accumulated, he could be home within a month. He’d already alerted his commander of his decision, and he’d assured him that he’d fast-track the process as much as he could. “But you can’t rush the pencil-necks,” he’d said.
As he exited the car, his cellphone vibrated.
Amelie glanced at him.
“I have to check this,” he said. “Let them know I’ll be right there.”
She helped Josette from the car and together they headed through the gate toward the house, Amelie carrying a large tray of jambalaya Josette had made that day.
The text was from his buddy, Justus Kirkland, who was supposed to pick him up from the airport the next day.
Justus: So, what did she say?
Thibaut grunted before typing: Haven’t asked her yet.
A picture of a clucking chicken appeared on the screen.
Justus: Nitro called it. Said you’d chicken out and wait ’til the last damn minute. Said you wouldn’t want to risk sleeping on the couch.
T-Bone: I didn’t chicken out. Had to find the right ring.
Justus: Why so long? It’s round. It’s got a diamond, right? Right? Women expect those things. And the rock has to be big enough she doesn’t need a magnifying glass to see it.
T-Bone: It’s big enough.
Justus: That what she tells you at night to make you feel better?
T-Bone: Jackass.
Justus: Sounds like you’re losing your nerve. It’s not so hard. Get on a knee. Don’t make a face like you’re dyin’. Easy, man.
Thibaut shook his head. The guys were going to give him hell over the fact he’d taken so long to get the mission done.
T-Bone: Look, you’re still picking me up, right?
Justus: 1000 hours. I expect all the deets!
Thibaut powered off his phone, knowing if he didn’t, he’d get many more calls from his teammates giving him shit.
Every light in the house was on, every curtain open. His parents had put out the word that their children were expected to be there. His three brothers had already confirmed. His sister was in Africa with the WHO, so she was the only member of his immediate family who wouldn’t be there. He took his time walking down the drive, listening to the zydeco music playing in the living room.
The front door opened. His mother stepped out. “Why are you takin’ so long? The party can’t start ’til you get there.”
He smiled and walked a little faster. When he reached the last step of the porch, she gave him her special kiss. “It’s harder this time, isn’t it?”
He nodded and held her hands against his face. “I won’t be long.”
“Make sure of that. I want grandbabies, Thibaut. Lots and lots of ’em, and Remy and Gabe don’t seem ready to settle down anytime soon.”
“And I do?”
She smiled up at him. “I see the way you look at her, son. Like the world begins and ends in her eyes. You gonna ask her?”
He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Ask her what, Mama?”
She smacked his shoulder. “You young folk are so stupid. Marriage isn’t the end of anything. It’s the start of the biggest adventure of your life.”
He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small jeweler’s box.
His mother’s eyes widened, and she reached for it. However, when she touched the box she drew back. “Better not. She should be the first to see it. You gonna ask her tonight?”
Nothing like adding a little more pressure. “Yes, Mama. I’m asking her tonight,” he said, as he slipped the ring back into his pocket.
She squealed and kissed his cheek, and then grabbed his arm and ushered him into the house.
Dinner couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. Somehow, while giving out orders better than any drill instructor he’d ever seen, she’d managed to spread his news. He knew because everyone kept watching him and Amelie. Their smiles and gazes so expectant that Amelie began to shift uncomfo
rtably and send him questioning stares.
At last, he’d had enough. He placed his napkin beside his plate and turned to his mother. “Mama, the meal was fantastic. But I need to stretch my legs.”
His mother smiled like a Madonna. “Why don’t you take Amelie around back to the garden?”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” he said, then pushed up from the table. As he passed Remy, he heard a whispered, “Don’t fuck it up.” Gerry raised his glass, and Gabe pointed his finger like a gun and held it to his temple. “Fuck off, Gabe,” he muttered as he passed him.
Amelie was standing when he made it around to her side of the long banquet table and placed her hand in the corner of his crooked elbow. He took the flagstone path around the far side of the house to the rose garden.
“You runnin’ a marathon?”
He glanced down and realized she was breathless. “Sorry. I forgot you were in heels.”
“You forgot? I took two hours gettin’ ready, and you didn’t remember what I wore? And I wore a skirt!” She shook her head. “Don’t know why I bothered. Should’ve just put on my jeans and Tante’s muck boots—you wouldn’t have noticed the difference.”
Fuck. She was irritated with him. This did not bode well.
He paused in front of the garden bench and bent to brush it off before inviting her to sit, waving at the seat.
She took her seat then looked at him expectantly. When he didn’t sit beside her, she said, “Where are you goin’?”
“Nowhere. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re hovering like you’re ready to bolt.”
“I’m not… Shit.” He sat beside her and sighed. “This isn’t going like I thought.”
“If you think I’m gonna have sex with you on this bench in your mama’s garden—”
He pressed a finger against her lip. “Amelie, I love you, but please shut up.”
She blinked.
Thibaut removed his finger and stood again. As he turned, he noted all the faces in the windows of the house overlooking the garden. He gave them a savage scowl, but only got more smiles and thumbs up signs.
Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights (SEALs in Paradise) Page 9
