Creole Kingpin

by Meghan March

  My right shoulder rises because a three-way isn’t really all that wild in my world. Well, in my old world. “You know I like variety.”

  I expect thunderclouds to gather in Moses’s eyes, showing me he’s lost his patience, but they don’t come. His easy smile returns.

  “No. You don’t. You’ll be happy with one cock for the rest of your life—as long as it’s mine.”

  I scrunch my face in annoyance. How am I supposed to deal with this man? I truly don’t know. So I snap back. “Just because you say it doesn’t make it the truth. Eventually, you’ll realize that.”

  The shake of his head is almost enough to drive me crazy. He always had a way of playing and teasing that made me come unglued. Almost like he wound me up just to see me spin out like a toy car.

  “Nothing to say with that big mouth of yours now?” Big . . . and incredibly talented from what I remember.

  He relaxes in the chair and crosses one muscular leg over the other. People pass and it’s loud in the café, but all I see and hear is him.

  “Think what you want, but I know you, Mags. You’re scared as shit. You want me, but you won’t admit it. That’s okay, for now. Eventually, you’ll realize what I’ve got to offer you is exactly what you want.”

  I hate how he cuts to the heart of the matter. It’s just so out of nowhere, nearly impossible to believe, and probably too good to be true.

  “You’re scared as shit.” How the fuck does he know? He doesn’t know me anymore. He shouldn’t be able to read me so easily.

  Frustration and doubt rise inside me. “You’re full of yourself, Moses.”

  “I’d rather you be full of me, but that’ll come soon enough. And I’ll hear those cries in my ear instead of through the door and walls.” He winks, and I could strangle him. “You’re a hell of a woman, Magnolia. I’ve learned a lot in fifteen years. There’s no one else like you anywhere. You’re everything I want.”

  Every time he says something like that, it throws me for a loop. I’m not used to it, and I sure as hell have no idea what to do with it. “That’s not a compliment. You want me by default? No one else was better, so I’ll do now? Stop saying shit like that. I don’t want to hear it.”

  His brow pinches, and finally I’ve landed a blow. Maybe now he gets it. I wanted him more than any other man on the planet, and he wanted to see if he could find something better.

  Am I supposed to feel lucky that he didn’t?

  Probably not, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I do, and I hate it.

  He tries to reach for my hand, but I dodge him. His gaze says he’s sorry, but his lips don’t. Instead, he says, “Fine, then we’ll change the subject. Tell me about your man who died.”

  Now I’m the one catching blows. Anger, humiliation, and hurt ignite through me like a blast furnace set to high. They do every single time someone mentions him, but normally I’m way more emotionally stable and can mask it without so much as a blip.

  But not with Moses. Not right now.

  I suck in a breath to steady myself and jerk my gaze upward to stare at the stamped tin ceiling, wishing there was whiskey in my cup instead of chicory.

  Just breathe. That part of your life is over. Pull it together, Mags. “Fucking Mount,” I whisper, knowing exactly who provided Moses with the information.

  He doesn’t confirm or deny his source.

  I swallow a lump in my throat and meet his warm gaze once more. “I’m not talking about it.”

  He drags his bottom lip through his teeth and then asks, “You still in love with him? Still grieving him?”

  If Moses is in for a penny, he’s in for a pound, and he’s not holding anything back. But I do. I have too many cards on the table already, and he’s not shown any that I’m willing to believe are real yet.

  My entire body tenses, and my jaw sets into stone. “That’s none of your damn business.”

  “He fucked you over pretty bad,” Moses says, pausing to take another sip. “I’m guessing that’s a no on you still being in love or grieving.”

  The breath is crushed out of my chest by the weight of the topic. “I said I’m not talking about it.”

  Moses finally gets it. I’m not fucking around. He holds his hands up between us. “Fine. Then what do you want to talk about?”

  I’m pissed and emotional, and so I lash out. “When you’re leaving. That sounds like a right fine subject.”

  He casually gathers our trash and piles it onto his plate. “When you tell me you’re coming with me.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to disappear. “You’re fucking impossible.”

  He grins. “Be glad I’m on your side.”

  My phone buzzes on the table, and I snatch it up like a life raft sent to save me from drowning.

  Just being around Moses has me on edge, and the fortress around my heart is taking a thrashing. Damn near every word out of his mouth is like a battering ram. Any distraction or interruption I can get will help me pull myself together.

  When I look down at the screen, a rush of relief washes over me.

  Keira. Thank God.

  I tap the screen and lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Ke-ke. What’s happening?” My voice sounds as close to normal as I can manage under the circumstances.

  “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to hey, Ke-ke me, Mags. What in the hell is going on? My husband just told me I need to be ready to stand up with you at your wedding.”

  Oh. Fuck.

  So much for a life raft. This will be more like the Spanish Inquisition. While part of me says I’ve got no one but myself to blame for the fact this conversation is happening right now, the rest of me knows I do, in fact, have someone else to blame. Moby.

  My scowl focuses on Moses, and it’s fueled with so much frustration, I’m surprised the skin doesn’t melt off his face.

  His grin just widens, and I can feel the vein throbbing in my temple.

  I pop out of my chair, mouthing, “I’m going to kill you,” and stride for the door because I won’t spend another second watching him stare at me with a silly smile on his face while life as I know it changes completely without my consent.

  When Keira speaks again, her tone is shrill, but in an excited and wildly curious way that only best friends take with each other. “Mags? I can hear you breathing, damn it. You can’t dodge the question. What in the hell is going on?”

  Through my grinding teeth, I reply, “Hold on. I’m going outside. I don’t want to talk about this in front of him.”

  “He’s there? Right now?”

  The squeal in Keira’s voice threatens to blow my eardrum clear out of my spinning head, and I hold the phone out a few extra inches as I step into a meager patch of shade.

  “He’s inside. We just had coffee.”

  “You had coffee with him?”

  Spinning around, I face the street and sigh. “If you’re just going to repeat everything I say, this conversation can be cut a whole hell of a lot shorter.”

  “Oh, shut up. I’m the one who just had to hear from my husband that my best friend has some long-lost love who’s back to claim her, and this blast from the past wants to marry her. What in the actual fuck is going on?”

  I clear my throat as I form an answer that will be brief enough to wrap this up quickly, and sufficient enough that she doesn’t feel slighted by me. “One. He’s not my long-lost love.” I roll my neck as I speak, not liking the flutter in my chest when she called him that. “Two. He’s . . . fuck, I don’t know what he is. A mistake. The sort I thought was never coming back. If I had, I would’ve told you.”

  She’s calmer now. “When did this start?”

  I pace a few steps and then back to the cover of shade. “Katrina. You were away. It wasn’t something I was bothering you with back then. Just like your husband shouldn’t have bothered you with it now.”

  “Uh. No, bitch. Back up right there,” she says, attitude clipping her words. So much for defusing the situation. I can practica
lly feel Keira get pissy again at my statement. “He absolutely should’ve bothered me with it, because I hear you right now. I hear that tremor in your voice. You’re freaking the fuck out, and you didn’t even think to call me for help? Or does that only apply to me? I call you with my problems, but you don’t share yours with me?”

  Keira hits me hard where it hurts, because . . . in a way, she’s right.

  She’s my best friend. The girl who refused to snub me, no matter what people had to say about my reputation. She even defied her own mother when she told her she wasn’t allowed to speak to me again. Keira Kilgore Mount is one of those good humans you count yourself lucky to know, and I’ve always wondered why she stuck by me. I sure didn’t always deserve it.

  “Magnolia.” Her voice sounds less self-righteous when she says my full first name to break the silence hanging between us.

  “I can’t ask you to carry my burdens, Ke-ke. It’s just different. You know that. There’s no way in hell I could’ve laid it on you. I wouldn’t.”

  She’s quiet for another moment, and when she speaks, her irritation is gone just as quickly as it came. “You don’t have to protect me anymore, Mags. You know that as well as I do. You could’ve told me about him. That’s all I want you to know.”

  These damn emotions of mine are all swirled up again. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna make me fuckin’ cry on the damn sidewalk. You’d think I’m a fourteen-year-old girl with how fucking mixed up I am right now. I don’t know which end is up or what the fuck to do about this man. I just . . . fuck me, Ke-ke. I never saw this coming. Not after all this time.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I should’ve started with—how are you?”

  I chuckle at Keira and her manners. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure how to answer that question.” I lean against the building and release a long breath. “He’s got me so damn confused. I don’t like how I fucking feel.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Like I’m losing my grip on control, and I can’t have that.”

  A few beats of silence pass before she replies. “I hate to tell you this, Mags . . . but if you’re falling for the guy again, the grip on control you’re trying to keep hold of is only going to give you rope burn.”

  Fear shoots through me. “Don’t say that. I’m not falling for him. I’m not. That shit is in the past.”

  “Whatever you say.” And then she chokes on a laugh.

  “What the fuck?” I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me, and then scold her. “Are you seriously laughing at me right now? Bitch. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d hang up on you. Like, right fucking now, Ke-ke.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t be laughing. But, oh my God, I never thought I’d see the day.”

  When she starts chuckling again, I go quiet, really contemplating hanging up on her, but she catches her breath a few seconds later.

  “I’m so glad you find it amusing that I’m confused as hell and don’t know what the fuck to do about this man. Jesus Christ. You should see him. And hear him. I don’t know what the hell to believe.” I’m pacing in circles again, trying to keep my voice down, but inside, I’m wigging the fuck out.

  “What do you want to do, Mags? What will make you happy?”

  Her question stops me mid-step, and I stare at the plasterwork of the building like I’ve never seen white paint before.

  What will make me happy? A lump forms in my throat because I can’t let myself think about the answer.

  “That’s not helping. I gotta get rid of him. It’s the only choice I have. I’ve worked too long and hard, building my life to where it is, to allow someone to sweep in and change everything on a whim. I can’t trust it. I can’t put my faith in it. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Mags, calm down. You’re freaking out for real now. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to get you riled up. Just take a deep breath.”

  The concern in Keira’s tone cuts through the cloud of panic threatening to choke me. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. Then again.

  “Good girl. It’s going to be okay. I promise,” Keira says, and for the first time in our over twenty-year-long friendship, she sounds like the one who has her shit together and knows all the answers. That’s the role I’ve always played.

  How the mighty have fallen, Ho-It-All says, piping up. Where’s your self-respect, Magnolia? Losing it right out in the open? When did you let yourself become so weak? And over a man. Yes, how the mighty have fallen . . .

  It’s the reminder I need to pull my shit together.

  “You’re right. It’ll be fine. It’s a shock, is all,” I tell Keira, straightening my shoulders and trying to shake it off. “I just need a bit of time to think. How about we talk later?”

  “Are you sure you’re good? Because I can—”

  Knowing she’s going to offer to send someone to get me, or to stay on the line until I’ve actually pulled it together instead of just pretending I’m okay, I say, “I’m just fine, girl. You know that nothing fazes me for long. Especially not a man.”

  “If you’re sure . . .”

  Clearly, I’m not doing the best job at selling this. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Give Rory my love. Gotta go.” Before she can protest, I hang up the call.

  That’s when I catch sight of Moses, watching me from the corner.

  Instantly, my spine goes ramrod straight. “You taking up eavesdropping now too? Can’t a person get some damn privacy?”

  His face is completely devoid of his normal easy grin. “I didn’t come back to ruin your life, mama.”

  My stomach sinks when I think of what he could have overheard to say something like that.

  Then he adds, “And you’re no second-rate backup plan either.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as I sweep a hand over my ass to brush off any plaster that might have stuck when I leaned on the building.

  “I’ll let you play it like that if you want, but only if you answer one more question for me.”

  “I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” I say with attitude that makes me feel more like myself.

  I paste a smile on my face that the Cheshire cat would be proud of, and start marching down the sidewalk in the direction of my place. As I expected, Moses falls into step beside me.

  “If she’s your best friend, why didn’t you tell her about me?”

  His question scrapes off some of the veneer I’ve just regained. I walk faster, but his long legs easily keep pace no matter the speed.

  “I want an answer, Magnolia. You ain’t running away from me until I get one.”

  Finally, I stop in front of a shuttered building and face him, my hands on my hips. “Why do you care?”

  Moses’s eerie green eyes scan my face, and it’s like he sees through the strong facade I’m trying desperately to keep intact. “Because I want to know if I’m right.”

  “Right about what?” My tone warns him to tread carefully.

  “Whether or not you loved me.”

  I flinch as if I’ve been slapped.

  Jerking my head to the left, I glance at him sideways after his whispered declaration. I take a step, intending to run away from this whole conversation, but I lose my footing on the solid ground beneath me. My world’s been shaken and my entire body flies forward, but instead of landing sprawled on the sidewalk, I’m surprised when Moses catches me.

  He lifts me off my feet and brings me flush against his body, chest to chest. As he lowers me to my feet, every fiber of my being begs me to relax against him.

  To let him hold me.

  Keep me safe.

  Protect me.

  God, it’s so tempting. But I can’t.

  I shove out of his hold and put space between us. If it’s the truth he wants, I’ll give it to him. Straight, no chaser.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore what I felt for you then, Moses, because I don’t trust you now. You can say whatever you want, be
all smooth and slick, but if it’s an act, I’m not gonna fall for it. I don’t need a man to rescue me. I’ve done fine all by myself.”

  “I hurt you, mama.”

  He reaches out to take my hand, but I yank it back because if I let him touch me . . . No.

  His eyes narrow at my movement, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him annoyed since he’s been back. Good. I want to see the real him. Not this sugarcoated version trying to wine and dine me into driving off into the sunset.

  So I decide to give him another bitter sip of my truth.

  “Yeah. You did hurt me. Then. But you’re not going to hurt me now. I won’t let you.” If my words are bullets, then they find their mark, because his gaze darkens.

  I lift my chin, determined not to let it make me pull my punches. He can’t think I’m going to cave for him easily, no matter what I felt back then or how much it hurt when he left and never came back.

  With newfound power, I continue. “I’ve learned a lot in the last fifteen years too. Lesson number one: Magnolia takes care of Magnolia. I don’t need anyone else. I appreciate your help with the cop this morning, but I’ve got it from here. You can go on ahead with your day.”

  His palms land on the sides of his forehead and his jaw rocks. “Just like that? You expect me to walk away just like that? Go on about my fucking day?”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard. It’s what you’ve been doing since you left.”

  “You know what I’ve been doing since I left?”

  Moses takes two steps toward me, and I step back instinctively. A wrought-iron gate clangs when my shoulder blades bump into it. He stands in front of me, his features carved from granite.

  “I’ve been trying to find my way back to you without putting you in fucking danger. It took me a while. I did a lot of shit I’ll never tell you about. But I’m finally free and clear, and so are you. That’s why I’m here now, after all this fucking time. Because life doesn’t always work out the way you hope, when you hope. But if you’re lucky, sometimes you get a second fucking shot at the one thing you want more than anything else. This is me taking my shot, mama. And I don’t fucking miss.”

  His eyes are dilated, and his breathing is labored as he speaks.