Cajun Fire

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Cajun Fire Page 10

by Cheri Valmont


  “You can’t be serious!”

  His look told her he was very serious. “Choose.”

  “I hate you, Daniel Morrow!”

  Daniel’s grin lacked any kind of sympathy. “Choose.”

  Lizabeth turned her face from his now hated one. “Fine, I’ll meet the man,” she relented.

  “That’s what I thought you’d say. Follow me in your car. Come on, let’s go.”

  Lizabeth got out of his truck as quickly as possible. She dreaded the meeting that lay ahead.

  * * * *

  When they drove up to a large farmhouse on the outskirts of Harrisburg, Lizabeth’s hands shook. Several different vehicles stood in the gravel driveway. A black BMW, a silver Mercedes, and a red Porsche, all crowded before the front gate. This scene seemed surreal. She’d never been around any affluent people. Her parents had a comfortable life, but never flaunted the fact.

  The farmhouse oozed money. For being in the middle of the countryside, the house looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. It was set back a quarter mile from the main road. Two brick columns graced the entrance to the property, with six-foot high wooden fences straddling the drive leading up to the house.

  Lizabeth shut off her engine and watched as Daniel exited his truck. He looked toward her, signaling her to join him. She gave a deep sigh and opened her car door. This was as good a time as any to get the meeting over with. What could they tell her that she didn’t know? She already knew Ben Dugas was her biological father, so what? How old was the man anyway?

  She followed Daniel up the walkway to the stone steps and then onto the front galerie, which was what the Cajun’s called a porch. Old-fashioned wooden rockers were scattered on it, bringing to Lizabeth’s mind lazily rocking away an afternoon, sipping ice-cold lemonade. Had it been a place she wanted to be, it would have been an inviting sight.

  They waited for a response after Daniel rang the doorbell. The lady who answered the door, short, with black hair, welcomed them. “Mee, hello there,” she told them with a heavy Cajun accent.

  “We’re here to see Ida Mae and her old man,” Daniel informed her.

  The little lady glanced at Lizabeth and then opened the door to allow them entrance. She directed them into the living room off the hall to the right. After seeing them seated, the woman left to let someone know of their arrival, Lizabeth supposed.

  Lizabeth’s mother, Ida Mae, appeared at the open living room door. “Well, hello, Lizabeth,” then she turned to Daniel, “Daniel. I’m glad you two could make it.”

  She was acting for all the world as if they were invited guests.

  “Mrs. Dugas,” Daniel acknowledged, and then went on, “I brought Lizabeth, just like I promised.”

  Lizabeth watched with growing disgust as the rough Daniel simpered before her mother. She didn’t miss the sexually inviting look her mother shot in his direction. There was more going on here than first appeared on the surface. Had her mother used sex to get Daniel to blackmail her into coming here?

  “Yes, Mrs. Dugas, I’m here,” Lizabeth said. “Now what is this all about?”

  Ida Mae shot another look in Daniel’s direction. “Mr. Morrow, if you would forgive us. You can wait here while I take Lizabeth for introductions.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll wait,” Daniel agreed.

  Ida Mae then looked at Lizabeth and silently motioned for her to follow. When they made it to the central hall, Ida Mae turned back to Lizabeth. “Now Lizabeth, I had you brought here to meet your real father—”

  “Why did you do it this way?” Lizabeth interrupted her. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  “Would you have agreed to come?”

  “I don’t know,” Lizabeth admitted.

  “That’s why I didn’t give you a choice. Your father doesn’t have much time left and he wants to get to know you.”

  What could Lizabeth say to that? And why had it taken so many years for the man to want to meet her? Maybe it had been for the best. Chances were, if she’d known about him when she was younger, she may have turned out more messed up than she was already.

  “But before you meet him, there is someone else I’d like you to meet,” Ida admitted before she knocked on an antique wooden door leading off the hall.

  “Come in,” a heavily masculine voice responded to Ida’s knock.

  Ida opened the door and stood to the side to let Lizabeth walk in ahead of her. Lizabeth’s gaze flew to the man sitting behind the large mahogany desk. Looking to be in his late thirties, he had thick blond hair and gorgeous facial features. He could easily be mistaken for a Hollywood hunk.

  Lizabeth could feel the man’s gaze rake her body, as if undressing her where she stood. She turned to Ida Mae. The woman had a frown on her face, but she avoided Lizabeth’s silent question.

  “Lizabeth,” the woman who was her mother said, “This is Gary Breaux. Gary this is my daughter, Lizabeth.”

  “Good afternoon, Lizabeth. I’m so glad you could join us today.” The man dismissed Ida Mae with a look in his eyes, her mother gave a strangled groan and slipped wordlessly out of the door.

  Lizabeth had not returned the man’s greeting. He might be a hunk, but there was something about him that sent a shiver of uneasiness skating down her spine.

  The man, Gary, stood and walked around the desk. “Please have a seat, Lizabeth,” and motioned to the sofa with a wave of his hand.

  Lizabeth looked around at her options and decided on one of the chairs instead. She didn’t want to give the man an opportunity to sit too close to her. She saw the quick frown on his face, but it just as quickly vanished.

  The man maintained the upper hand because he didn’t sit down. He paced back and forth in front and behind her chair, causing her nerves to stretch as taut as a guitar’s strings. Lizabeth curled her fists on the arm of her chair, her body leaning forward in preparation to bolt.

  The man must have noticed. “There now, Lizabeth, there is no need for you to be nervous. You’re among family here. I just had a few things to discuss with you before you meet your father.”

  Lizabeth found her voice. “What do you and I have to discuss before I meet my father? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “You certainly are a suspicious young woman. Well, he’s not dying yet, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  “Wouldn’t you be suspicious if you were brought here by being blackmailed?”

  “You can blame your mother for that. I can’t imagine why she did all this cloak and dagger stuff. Your mother is less than bright, I’m afraid.”

  Even though Lizabeth didn’t know her mother very well, she felt insulted on her behalf. “Maybe she understood it would take more than an invitation to get me out here.”

  Gary knelt before her and looked up into her eyes. “So you would’ve refused if we’d sent you an invitation?”

  “I really can’t say now, but it’s too late anyway.”

  “Well, she’s earned my discipline.”

  Lizabeth jumped at the man’s harsh tone. Oh, God, did the man beat her mother? “Discipline?”

  Gary gave a knowing smile. He stood again and walked around her chair like a spider waiting for a fly to fall into its trap. “BDSM. Ever heard of it, little girl?”

  Lizabeth edged to the front of her seat. Her nerves stretched to their breaking point. When she finally found her voice, it came out in a squeak, “BDSM?”

  She jerked when his hand came out of nowhere to rub against her cheek, shooting a jolt of pure fear, causing her heartbeat and breathing rate to surge. Feeling a flush suffuse her body, then receding just as quickly, leaving a cool clamminess in its place, Lizabeth knew this man meant her harm in some way. Her gaze shot to look behind her at his smiling face, but she could see the mocking fakeness behind that smile. She cringed away from his probing hand as he made to grab her face. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, little girl.”

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded. Maybe the
man realized he’d gone too far with her.

  “Want? Why nothing. I just wanted to talk to you before you met your father.”

  “Why?”

  “Do your parents have any idea who your father is?”

  “No, absolutely not,” Lizabeth insisted.

  Gary resumed his pacing, rubbing his right index finger and thumb along the edge of his angular chin and jaw. “I see.”

  “Do they know you know?” he questioned.

  “No!”

  “There, there, now, Lizabeth, there’s no need to get upset about this. It’ll be our little secret.”

  Something about the way the man said the words caused her feeling of foreboding to intensify.

  “But before we let you meet Ben, I need you to make a phone call.”

  “A phone call?” Lizabeth’s heart dropped like a heavy stone into the pit of her stomach.

  “Yes, you’ll be our guest for the next week.”

  “What are you saying?” Lizabeth’s heart returned to her chest and pounded again.

  “I want you to call your parents and let them know you are going to be our guest for the next week. By your own decision, of course.”

  “They won’t believe that. And what about school? I’ve only got a couple of months ’til graduation.”

  “My dear, have you missed class this year?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then I’m sure a few days off won’t kill you.”

  “You’re going to tell them I know if I don’t do what you say?”

  Gary’s smile held a hint of evil. “You learn quickly.”

  Lizabeth’s rage boiled over and she shot out of her chair to lash out at the smiling Gary. He laughed aloud at her physical outburst, grabbing her advancing body in his painful grasp.

  “Let me go, you bastard!”

  Lizabeth flipped her hands, palm upwards, clawing the arms trying to subdue her. Twisting and turning, she heard his grunt of pain. Gary grabbed her, dragging her writhing body over to the large desk. He picked her up and slammed her backside down on the hard wood.

  She didn’t understand. There were no demands that she stop her actions. He seemed to be relishing them. He was enjoying this!

  “Let me go!” she repeated, trying to kick out with her legs, but they were trapped against the desk by his thighs.

  She fought him with every ounce of strength she could muster, trying to pull her arms out of his overpowering grip. He yanked her to him, wrapping his arms around her body in a vice-like grip, squeezing the breath out of her. He now held her captive in one arm, while he swung his free arm, sweeping everything in his reach off the desk. Their rasping breathing mingled with the sounds of their vicious struggle. His oppressive cologne and powerful grasp were suffocating her. Stark terror sent adrenaline crashing along her nerve endings with the speed of a hurtling train. Desperate to catch her breath, Lizabeth twisted as his hated face came towards her and she felt his invading hands grasping at her clothing.

  Oh, my God! Did he mean to rape her?

  “Stop...you...” her words escaped her in short, rasping gasps.

  “Stop it, you bitch!” a female voice screamed from the study doorway.

  Gary swung around to glare at the intruder who dared interrupt them. From Lizabeth’s position, still struggling to sit upright, she saw Ida Mae was looking at her as she’d said the words.

  “Ida Mae,” Gary instructed with a hiss, “Come back later.”

  “I can’t. I’ve already told Ben she’s here and he’s getting ready to meet her.” She could tell by Ida Mae’s tone of voice she wasn’t used to disobeying Gary.

  Gary remained quiet, and since he was facing the opposite direction, Lizabeth couldn’t see his expression.

  He released her with reluctance and turned away so she couldn’t fathom his expression. She sat up on the desk, looking at her mother. Lizabeth didn’t know what she expected Ida Mae’s expression to be, but the look of hatred burning in her mother’s eyes, as she gazed at Lizabeth, surprised her.

  When Lizabeth jumped off the desk, she rushed over to the door, not looking back at the man who’d roughed her up. She looked at Ida Mae’s expression as she gazed at Gary, there was hurt, anger, but there was a hint of love, too. Did Ida Mae really love that sadistic bastard?

  Before Ida Mae escorted Lizabeth from the room, Gary called out, “Ida Mae?”

  Ida turned back to face the man. “Yes?”

  “Return to me when you’ve made introductions, understand?”

  Even though Lizabeth did not touch Ida Mae, she sensed Ida’s breathing quicken with excitement. “Yes, Master,” she returned, to Lizabeth’s astonishment.

  Her mother was Gary’s slave? For the first time since she escaped, Lizabeth glanced over her shoulder to look at him. A frown still marred his face, but when he caught Lizabeth’s gaze on him, he gave her a smile meant to seduce her. As if he was enticing her to join him again, luring her with the temptation to become his slave. She didn’t tell him there was only one man she wanted to submit to, and that was Jubal. He would be her master. She trusted only him enough to give over complete control of her mind, body, and soul.

  “And Ida?”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Let her make her phone call and have Connie get the lavender room ready for her stay.”

  Ida Mae’s face crinkled with distaste, but she didn’t refuse his bidding.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 10

  When Jonas drove his company truck up the driveway, he noticed Lizabeth’s Camaro was missing. Why would he notice that as unusual today? Something in his parental gut told him things were coming to a head with her, that’s why. It was time he and Nikki sat her down to tell her the circumstances surrounding her birth. They should have come clean with her years ago, but he’d feared losing her. He’d sworn to her on the day she was born that he would protect her no matter what and he’d been determined to fulfill his promise to her.

  He realized his own reluctance, to never see again that spark of adoration in his daughter’s eyes when she looked at him. Although they butted heads on a regular basis these days, that spark never completely left her eyes.

  Jonas was surprised that he made it to the front door without Lauren racing out to greet him as she usually did when he got home. When he opened the door, a forlorn Lauren was coming down the stairs, her footsteps sounding heavy even against the carpet runner.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” Jonas greeted his youngest.

  “Oh, hey, Daddy.” Her words may have sounded upbeat, but her face showed sadness.

  What was going on here?

  “Are you okay, honey? Is Mom here?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. But...she’s in the kitchen.”

  He watched his little girl burst into tears and turn right back around, her slumped figure walking up the stairs slowly, sniffling as she went. Something was definitely wrong. His little girl never walked anywhere. She was always shooting around like a pinball.

  “Sweetie...” Lauren didn’t respond, finally bolting toward her room as she reached the top of the stairs.

  Shit! He went in search of his wife. Jonas walked through the kitchen’s swinging door to see Nikki on the phone, the receiver’s extension cord being pulled taut then curling up as she paced back and forth. She looked around with relief flooding her face. Obviously, she’d hoped it was Jonas when she’d heard him enter the kitchen.

  “Okay, Sue, please let me know if you hear from her. Could you try calling some of her friends to see if they’ve heard from her?” After her perplexing words, Nikki hung up the receiver.

  Jonas could feel his own anxiety rise. Was she talking about Lizabeth?

  Even though he knew he should let her tell him first, Jonas asked, “Are you talking about Lizabeth?” He couldn’t help his harsh tone.

  “Oh God, Jonas. Things have gone to hell in a hand basket. Before I came home from work, a call came through from Lizabeth. Lauren and the boys were the on
ly ones home, so Lauren picked up the phone. It was Lizabeth. She asked to speak to me, but since I hadn’t made it home yet, she told Lauren to tell me she would be staying with a friend for the rest of the week. Jonas, you know that’s not like her. She doesn’t even have any clothes. Jonas, something just isn’t right. I feel it.”

  “Have you tried her cell?”

  “Turned off.” Only two simple words, but they caused dread to set in on his heart.

  “Shit!”

  He walked over to pull his agitated wife into his arms, letting his comforting hand rub her back and hair. “Jubal.” Jonas said simply.

  Nikki pulled her face away from his chest to look up at him. “What?”

  Anger surged through him. “She’s gone to Jubal.”

  “Now, Jonas, don’t jump to conclusions. But if she has gone to Jubal, I don’t believe it would be his doing.” Jonas could tell she was doing her best to help him maintain a level head. She didn’t want him flying off half-cocked after his brother.

  “How do we know? We just met him. Do we really know he wouldn’t use her to get me to go see that cursed father of mine?”

  “Jonas! You’re being unreasonable! He doesn’t seem to me the kind of person who would use her that way.”

  Jonas rubbed his hands over his face and then jabbed his fingers into the hair that had fallen forward onto his face. “Damn it! I don’t know what to think! Get your stuff together; we’re going to Lafayette to see if she went over to meet him.”

  Nikki left him and rushed out the kitchen, he could hear her calling out to the kids, letting them know where they were going. He stalked out of the kitchen, on his way out of the house, not bothering to go upstairs to change out of his work clothes. Torn, Jonas hoped to find Lizabeth that easily, but knowing in all probabilities, he would go off on Jubal if he found her with him. His wife would help him keep a rein on his volatile emotions.

  Once on their way, Nikki had to warn Jonas, “Slow down, baby, if she’s at the hospital with him, she’ll be okay.” Her left hand touched his right one, which had a death grip on the steering wheel.

 

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