The Wedding: Dark Romance

by Sienna Mynx

  “It’s Domino, Smoke. I’ll have to put a bullet in his big ass to keep him quiet. She’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t need the drama.”

  “She’s a fucking Larue. Ain’t nothing sweet about her but her pussy.”

  “Take it back!” I stand up.

  Smoke sneers at me.

  I clench my fist and kick the table out from between us. “Take it back!”

  “You think I ain’t neva’ fell in that trap before? Those Larue women have haunted men in the bayou for generations. We all want them. But we not dumb enough to touch them. I told you boy. Told your Pops too.”

  My eyes stretch.

  Smoke nods that his betrayal of my trust runs deeper than I conceived.

  “You told Pops about her and me?”

  “Sure did.”

  “I’m a grown fucking man!”

  “You’re a boy. Grown men don’t fuck other men’s women. You’ve been doing that for years. Playing games with those young girls that come down into the Bone Room fascinated with a white boy playing a saxophone. Domino’s woman was just the last.”

  I laugh. I can’t control it. “You and Pops taught me to stick my dick where I please!” I bite back. “How the hell are you different than me? Huh? How!”

  Smoke shrugs. “You suppose to be better than us. Guess you not.”

  “Fucking hypocrite.”

  “Pops told me to stay out of it,” Smoke yawns. “He’s waiting for you to fuck this up, Brick. And it looks to me like you already have. ”

  “With your help. Domino is going to blow her world apart. And that’s on you, not Pops.”

  “Pops hates the Larue’s.”

  “Why? Why!”

  Smoke turns his cataract eyes to me. “Why you think? That princess’s father is nothing but a snake in a suit.”

  “The only way Pops would get involved is there is something in it for him.” I drop my head and try to work through it. Pops is an opportunist. He raised us Cajun. He raised us mean. And if he is using Coco for bait she’s in deeper shit than me right now. But what would he want from the Larue’s? I have to put an end to it. My phone rings. This time I don’t hesitate to answer it.

  “Brick? Oh, Brick it’s all messed up,” Coco pants between saying my name as if she’s out of breath.

  “What is it?”

  “You have to come back. You have to come and get me. Now!”

  “Coco, slow down. Tell me what happened?”

  “Xavier knows. He’s threatening to take me with him in the morning. If I don’t go he’s going to tell my parents about us. Brick, I can’t do it. My entire family is here. I can’t face them all. I can’t go through this again.”

  “Again?” I frown.

  “Please Brick, help me…”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Wait, wait! You can’t come to the door. I’ll sneak out. Meet me back down by the cottage. Okay? Okay?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I end the call. Smoke is staring at me. And I don’t like that stare. My conversation with my mentor and friend is over. From here on out I’ll get my answers from Pops. He’s the one that rules all our lives.

  “Don’t do it. You’ll make things worse for her and yourself.”

  “Fuck you Smoke.”

  “Yeah, well you’re both fucked,” Smoke mumbles.

  I’m out of his apartment and at my car in a few minutes. When I get behind the wheel I pause. What I do next is exactly what Pops wants. I toss out thoughts of consequences and go after her. Smoke is right. We are fucked.

  “What are you doing? You can’t just runoff. We got an entire weekend planned here.”

  Georgie paces.

  “I’m not going to Jamaica with Xavier.”

  “Then march down the hall and wake your parents. Tell them the truth, Coco. It’s time.”

  “Did you tell your parents about Marcel?”

  “Nope. But I would in a heartbeat if he wasn’t such a chickenshit coward!” Georgie said and tears sprung to her eyes. I can’t deal with my friend’s pain and my fears. It’s too much. I sat through the rest of the party with Xavier smirking and Domino winking at me. I still have the smell of Brick and sex on me. I can’t do this. I have to go.

  “Coco? Think this through.”

  “I did it on purpose Georgie.”

  “Did what?”

  “This. All of it.” My head hurts so I sit down on the bed. “I went after Brick. I knew someone in that club would eventually recognize me. And I kept going back.”

  “I warned you.”

  “I know. I guess I figured Xavier would want to break up with me, stop this nonsense and my father wouldn’t blame me for it all falling apart. I even asked Xavier to go against our parents with me. I’m such an idiot.”

  “Okay. Then what’s the problem?”

  I wipe my tears. “Tonight I remembered. There are consequences to what I’ve done with Brick. How I’ve lied to my family. I remembered how bad things were with my family after boarding school. After I got kicked out from sleeping with my teacher. My father stopped speaking to me. My mother pretended nothing happened. My brothers treated me like I was a harlot. It wasn’t until grand-mère reminded my father of the marriage promise to Xavier and how it would heal me of my wickedness did he forgive me. I should have never done this, this way. You’re right. I am a coward. And it’s going to start all over again.”

  Georgie comes over and sits next to me. She puts her arm around me. She rubs my arm and comforts me. “Then be a woman. You are one, you know? You’re not sixteen. You can go and tell your parents no to the wedding. Let Xavier say whatever the hell he wants. They are your parents. Oh hell, I’ll do it with you. I’ll confess about Marcel to my dad. We can blow this all up together—right here and right now. Deal with it together.”

  “I tried with mama earlier.”

  “But together we have a better chance of being heard. Right?”

  “It’s not going to work.”

  “Why?”

  “I really think this time they’ll dismiss it and force me to marry him anyway.”

  “That’s crazy talk Coco. Why are you so afraid of facing them?”

  “If I do it Georgie they’ll disown me.”

  “And what happens if you run out of here tonight?” Georgie asks.

  “I don’t know? Anything, I guess. Paris. Maybe?”

  “Paris? You going to Paris with Brick?”

  I can hear the jealousy in her tone. So I switch directions. “He mentioned it. I’m going wherever he goes. The only thing I know is that Brick is who I’m supposed to be with. I want him. Just like you wanted Marcel tonight. Maybe I am a coward. Maybe this is the bad way to do things. I don’t want anyone to get between us now. This is my way of making sure they won’t.”

  Georgie smiles. She nods that she understands. We hug each other so tight we laugh. I feel a little better. When Georgie lets me go she smiles. “I wish Marcel would pick up his phone. Come and take me away from here. I’d run away with him to Paris, if he’d ask.”

  “Don’t give up on Marcel,” I tell her and finish gathering my things.

  “You really like Brick, huh? He’s just… I don’t know. He’s different, you know, white.”

  “He’d tell you he isn’t white. He’s Cajun. Brick says there’s a difference.”

  “There ain’t. And your daddy won’t think so either,” Georgie says.

  I go to the dresser. I pick up the letter I wrote. I have three. One letter for daddy, one for mama, and one for grand-mère. “Can you give them these in the morning?”

  “Sure, they are going to drill me. What do I say?”

  “Nothing. I left you out of it.”

  “You think that man Domino left me out of it? You think when Xavier finds out you done run down to the Quarter that he won’t drag me into this mess?”

  “I didn’t think about that Georgie. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs. “Don’t matter. My parents won’t
be shocked. Especially my nona. She thinks I’m like her.”

  Georgie doesn’t call her mother ‘mom’ she refers to her as ‘nona’. It’s one of the many strange sisterly ways her mother has raised her to be a best friend instead of a daughter. I smile but I’m sad for us both. If our mothers had really taught us how to live our independent lives we wouldn’t be so prone to mistakes.

  “I love you, Georgie. I always have. Since we were kids. I’ll call you and let you know I’m safe. I probably won’t see you again until this blows over.”

  “You’ll see me. After I find Marcel and beat some sense into his head I’m going to make him take me to you. Now come on. Let me help you get out of here without being seen with all this damn luggage.

  I arrive at the plantation with my lights off. The party has simmered. Few lights are on in the house and cottages. Still I’m no fool. I don’t know what damage Domino has done. Coco isn’t answering her phone

  I drive around the cottages to where I parked before and I see her. She’s changed into hip hugging jeans and a crop top. The legs of her jeans are rolled up to her calves. She has on sneakers instead of her flip flops. Which is good for where we are going. Coco doesn’t speak. Neither do I. I hit the button to my truck. I take her bags and put them in the back of my car. For a such a tiny thing she sure does carry a lot of luggage wherever she goes. She gets in the car and I’m behind the wheel soon. We zoom out at a racecar speed and the corvette glides over the bumpy roads. I don’t hit my lights until we’re clear of the Plantation House.

  And then I look over to her. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she says softly.

  I hit the button to bring up the convertible top. It’s a dry muggy night in Louisiana. I want to cool us both off. She fiddles with the radio and finds a jazz station that reminds me of the club. It soothes me, when I look over to her I see it’s calmed her.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asks.

  “Home,” he says.

  “It’s the first place they will look for me Brick.”

  “Not the Quarter.”

  I can see her from the corner of my eye glancing at me.

  “I’m originally from a small town called Golden Meadow, Lafourche Parish. Got a population of about three thousand.”

  “Swamp Cajuns,” she says.

  I can’t help but smile. She’s no ordinary babe. And if she’s grown up partly in Houma she knows where I’m talking about. Between New Orleans and Golden Meadow there are undeveloped tracks of swamps, lakes, marsh and the Mississippi River. Pops place can only be reached by boat. The whole town, my home, the entire area is situated on the Bayou Lafourche.

  “My family lives in Golden Meadow. Your father won’t find us there.”

  “Oh? Okay? We could go to a hotel until my dad cools off. And then…”

  “I think it’s best we see Pops.”

  “Pops? Who’s that?”

  “My father. I think he’s the one that sent Domino and the band out to your graduation.”

  “Then why are you taking me to see him?” she asks in an alarmed tone. I reach over and take her hand. I kiss it.

  “I don’t want anything about us to cause you pain Coco. Pops needs to know you’re my woman now. And he’s going to respect it and stay out of our way. If I want that kind of respect I have to go home and get it.”

  “Brick…”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I guess.”

  “Good. I’ll take care of you. I promise. And when your family is ready I will meet them. It’s going to be okay.”

  She closes her eyes and exhales. I let go of her hand but she rests it on my thigh. “Do you want to know the story?”

  “I’m listening,” I say.

  “My brother went to school with Domino. And Xavier knows Domino. I don’t know when but Domino told Xavier everything.”

  “Did he tell your brother too?”

  “No. Just Xavier.”

  “And then what?”

  “Xavier said either I leave with him and go to Jamaica for a week or he was going to tell my parents. Embarrass them in front of their guests. Do it nastily.”

  “What’s in Jamaica?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wants me to pretend at being a fiancé. But the thing is he doesn’t want me. I told him I didn’t want to marry him. He didn’t care. It’s all a game to him.”

  “There has to be something else in it for him. Something he gets out of this marriage?”

  “My father is helping him in his campaign to run for the Senate seat. Our families are united on that.”

  I glance over to her. “You two have never dated, nothing romantic?”

  “Not really. I mean not what I consider romantic. I’ve tolerated dates and trips with him before. But he never crossed the line. Never even kissed me.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “I told you that we grew up together. We’re more like brother and sister.”

  “No sweetheart. That’s your view. He’s a man. And you’re beautiful. No man takes a beautiful woman like you on a trip or date and not try for a kiss.”

  She frowns.

  “Xavier’s a weirdo. I’m telling you, he’s just an asshole.”

  I nod, but I’m not convinced. My mocha baby has blinders on. Something else is playing out with her family. And I think Pops might know what it is.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Okay, Brick.”

  The night in the Bayou can be quite overwhelming. Even with Brick at the wheel my skin prickles with goosebumps. We head south, deep into Cajun country. I’ve seen it as a kid. As a woman, not too much. The moon and stars are the only lights for miles. We travel over rusty bridges and unpaved roads.

  “It’s so dark out here?”

  “Hmm?” he says.

  “I said it’s so dark out here.”

  Brick glances over to me. “See the moon, it’s enough.”

  “It is?” I frown. The blood moon is huge in the sky and looks more like a glowing orange orb.

  “Sure, when I was a boy we knew everything about the night when we had a moon. My mother taught me when the tips of a crescent moon point upward, the weather is suppose to be dry for a week. And she said a halo of light around a full moon means we got clear skies for as many days as we can see stars near the moon. I swear to gawd it’s true.” Brick gives me a sly smile.

  “What are you werewolves? Why care about the moon?”

  He chuckles. “Because we need the moon in the Bayou at night. Nothing happens in my parish without the moonlight when the sun goes down. Other than that you can get lost out there in those swamps and become gator meat.”

  “Interesting. You sound as superstitious as my family.”

  “We are. Creoles, Cajuns, blacks, Houma Native Americans, we been mixing it up since the Arcadians arrived.”

  “True,” I smile. “So what kind of work did your family do out here? Before you got into selling cars and street fights,”

  “Pops told me our town pretty much farmed and hunted. We sold our goods up the Lafourche Bayou. Before it all changed. We Cajuns became Americanized in the early 1900s when they found oil in Jennings. That find brought in a lot of salaried jobs. Worst shit that ever happened to the bayou is the oil industry coming down here. We can barely get good farm land. The swamps are polluted with that crap killing off all the animals. Most people in my town work the factories or on the rigs, but Pops decided his boys wouldn’t. He went into business for himself.”

  “Sounds like how my great-great grandfather gave up his sugar cane fields and went into business for himself with our distillery.”

  “Yeah, kind of like that,” he says.

  “How far into the swamp do we have to go?”

  “I’ve called ahead. My brother is here,” he says.

  We drive through a dense forested road and arrive at the bank of the swamp. Several pickup trucks are parked. One has t
he light on inside. And someone with a cap pulled down on his head.

  “We go the rest of the way by boat. Every one of us have a boat out here. This is the Bondurant camp.”

  I can’t ask another question. He’s out the car and headed around to my side of the car. He opens the door for me. He takes my hand to help me out but pulls me close so I can kiss him. And it’s sweet. There is someone watching. Brick steps aside and I get a full view of the man. He’s older than Brick. I remember him as one of the brothers that came to the club. Tall and thick, he’s built like he works with his hands. He has a lumberjack pattern shirt and dirty jeans. His deeply tanned face has a beard that lines his jaw and chin but does not connect to any mustache. He doesn’t speak. He stares at me. Not Brick. Just me. Brick returns from the back of the car with my luggage. He acts as if his brother isn’t glaring.

  “Ready?”

  “What about him?”

  Brick glances to his brother. The man walks over and takes my luggage. Brick puts his arm around my shoulders. “He likes you.”

  “Huh?”

  “I can tell.” Brick chuckles and we start off toward the pier toward the boat. The bayou isn’t quiet. There are all kinds of sounds of the night. Black crows in trees, gators stirring the surface waters of the swamp, crickets and insects buzzing and chirping. Brick helps me climb on board. Not because I’m unable to make the step from the pier to the boat. My nerves are on edge. Not only am I somewhere I don’t know, but right now I’m putting my trust into a man I’ve known under two months rather than my own family.

  “Coco, this is my brother Jessup.”

  His brother steers the boat from the pier and doesn’t respond to the greeting.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  Brick sits and pulls me down on his lap. I notice next to my luggage is his saxophone case. He never leaves anywhere without it. Maybe tonight he’ll play it for me. It sure would cheer me up.

  I put my arm around his neck and sit with my legs across his lap. He’s kissing me under my neck and rubbing my thigh. I’m staring at the swamp trees and the misty fog that covers the waters we glide over. I look up to the moon and it is full. It’s brighter than I ever remember seeing it. I see us, together, many years from now. He’s driving the boat and I have two babies, twin girls. They are at his side holding on his to pants legs, barely three years old. My hand is on my swelling belly. We’re coasting on these same waters heading to the Bondurant home under a full moon. I can feel the muggy heat of the swamp night. I can hear the chirps of night insects buzzing around us. And I’m happy. My future as a mother and a wife has me filled with contentment. But I don’t understand why. A future just as mundane as the one I would have with Xavier—could be better with Brick? The vision evaporates from my third eye. And I’m left with a hopeless truth. I’ve fallen in love with Brick. I have. But I don’t want to be contained, trapped by the life of marriage and kids. The kind of bondage my mother and grand-mère were both forced into. I want to live in a skyscraper in New York. Walk to broadway shows. Write scripts for some award winning independent film that wins me an Oscar or even a Emmy. I want to be free to create the magic thoughts and visions I’ve had since I was a little girl. Not be just some saxophonist’s wife.