by Paige Tyler
Triana’s shoulders slumped. She’d thought from everything Shawn said that he’d come to his senses, but she guessed he was still a jerk. What the heck had he come here for?
Shawn sighed. “I’m not saying that because I don’t want that. I know we can’t ever go back to what we used to be, but being apart has given me a lot of time to think. Every happy memory I have from the past three years includes you, Kim. I’m pissed that it took us being apart—and a frigging hurricane in the Gulf—for me to figure that out, but I finally get it. I’m in love with you and I know that the only way I’ll ever be happy again is if we’re together. So, even though I know I don’t have any right to ask this of you, I’m asking anyway. Will you give me another chance, not just to be your boyfriend, but to be your husband?”
There was another rustling noise followed by the distinct sound of a jewelry box opening. Triana turned and looked at her mother, who stared back. As one, they scooted down the steps on their butts until they could lean forward enough to see into the shop. The scene they found was exactly what Triana had imagined. Shawn was down on one knee in a puddle of water, a black jewelry box in his outstretched hands, a beautiful ring nestled in the box’s velvet-lined interior. Kim stood in front of him, one hand over her mouth, shock and awe on her face.
The two of them stayed like that for so long Triana thought she might have to run down there and kick them.
But then Kim grabbed Shawn’s hands, pulling him to his feet and kissing him. Triana thought she heard a few murmured words of love and acceptance, but she was too busy nudging her mother upstairs to be sure.
Kim called up from the bottom of the stairs a little while later. “I heard you two on the steps, so don’t bother acting like you have no idea what happened down here.”
Triana grinned and hurried downstairs, her mom right behind her. Kim was alone in the shop, a big smile on her face and a ring on her finger. Triana and her mother both hugged her and offered congratulations.
“I asked Shawn to go check on his parents and make sure everything is okay there,” Kim said. “He’s going to come back and pick me up later, so I still have time to help you two finish packing up.”
Instead of moving over to pack another box, Kim pulled out her cell phone. “I need to call Zane and let him know Shawn and I are back together.”
Kim didn’t try and hide her conversation as she called the British SWAT officer, so Triana listened in while her friend told Zane about Shawn. Zane must have handled it well because Kim laughed at whatever he said. After hanging up, Kim came over to help Triana pack a box of voodoo dolls.
“That guy is so amazing,” Kim said. “Zane actually said he’s happy for Shawn and me, and I believe him. I’m telling you, if I wasn’t already crazy in love with Shawn, I’d make a serious move on the man. Though something tells me it’s going to take one hell of a woman to win his heart. That guy is one of a kind.”
While Triana’s mother disappeared into her workshop to finish in there, she and Kim got the rest of the more delicate merchandise moved upstairs.
“Okay, so what’s the word on Remy?” Kim asked as they stood in the hallway making sure the stack of boxes was stable.
Triana told her about their date at the restaurant across the lake and what had happened afterward. “I assumed Remy was going to make the dumping official once we got back to the shop, but the break-in sort of got in the way. Not that it really matters. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done.”
Kim hugged her. “That sucks. Why’d he take you out to such a nice place if he was just going to break it off with you? Hell, he could have done it by a text and it would have been better.”
Triana snorted. “No kidding.”
She and Kim chatted about men in general and assholes in particular for a while, until Shawn came to pick Kim up. Kim hugged Triana again and told her to call if she needed to talk, then left with her new fiancé.
Triana was happy the two of them had worked it out, but she couldn’t help comparing Kim and Shawn’s relationship to her and Remy’s. She told herself it was silly to contrast the two. Kim and Shawn had been together a long time and had merely run into a rough spot. She and Remy had only gone on a couple of dates and slept together a few times. It had never been anything more than that, and if she’d let herself think that, it was her own damn fault.
When her mom came down a little while later, Triana was staring out the window at the rainwater running down the street outside like a little river. Her mother walked over to put her arm around her.
“I know some stuff happened last night with Remy. Do you want to talk about it?”
Triana shook her head. “Not right now. Maybe later.”
Her mom nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, dear.” She pressed a kiss to Triana’s cheek. “I’m going to check on some of our neighbors and see if they need any help. You should stay close to the shop. The weather people said it shouldn’t get too bad out, but the winds will probably get worse over the next couple of hours.”
Triana gave her mother a hug and told her to be careful, then locked the door behind her. She was wondering what she could do next to keep herself occupied when her cell phone rang. Her heart leaped, hoping it was Remy, but it quickly sank when she looked at the number and didn’t recognize it.
She answered anyway, immediately knowing from the rough voice on the other end that it was Dominic. It kind of reminded her of a sink disposal chewing on gravel.
“My timing is lousy with this storm, but I think I’ve found the guy I heard bragging about killing your dad,” he said. “I thought you’d want to know, even with the hurricane coming.”
Triana was so stunned she almost dropped the phone, but she recovered quickly enough. “How’d you find him so fast? Where is he? Do you know his name?”
“Whoa, slow down, woman,” Dominic said. “I haven’t slept since we met yesterday, so one question at a time.”
Triana took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “Okay, since you said you haven’t slept since yesterday, does that mean you’ve been looking for this guy the whole time?”
“Yeah. I spent the entire night dragging my ass through every lowlife bar and dive in this city, and let me tell you, there are a lot of them. An hour ago, I met a guy who knew exactly who I was taking about. Said he’d heard this shithead named Shelton Quinn mouthing off about taking out this big dude who owned a jazz club and thought he was a real badass. Even described the same tattoo I’d seen.”
Her hand tightened on the phone. “Quinn—that’s his name? Do you know where he can be found?”
The guy laughed, a sound that quickly broke up into a fit of coughing. “I can do you one better than that, lady. Meet me on Royal Street near the old Architect Alley and I’ll point him out to you.”
Her pulse raced, eagerness warring with concern. She knew the place. It was in the Marigny, which was a really nice part of town. But getting there would mean driving down a lot of streets that were probably close to flooding by now.
“You want me to meet you right now, with the hurricane coming in?”
“Hell yeah, lady. How the hell else we going to do this?” Dominic demanded, clearly pissed she’d even asked. “I’m sitting here in my car right now, across the street from the warehouse I tracked this guy to. He walked in a few minutes ago, but I got no idea how long he’s going to stay here. And I sure as hell ain’t going to wait around until he comes out so I can get a picture. Besides, I found him; now I want the money you promised me.”
Triana still hesitated. She wanted to catch the man who killed her father more than anything, but she was smart enough to know that going to the place where this guy might actually work probably wasn’t too smart. Bodine would have a cow if he knew she was considering something like this.
“Shouldn’t we call Bodine and let him know what you found out?” she asked.
“Lady, you
can call anyone you want, but I’m expecting someone down here with my money in the next fifteen minutes or I’m leaving. I don’t want to be out in this weather any more than you do.”
Triana was tempted to tell him she didn’t appreciate being threatened, but she resisted the urge. It would only chase Dominic away, and she sure as heck didn’t want to do that. She needed the guy.
“Okay, I’ll be there as fast as I can,” she snapped. “But it’s going to take me a bit. I don’t keep five hundred dollars lying around in my couch cushions.”
Dominic laughed. “You can pay me another way, if you want.”
That thought made Triana want to yak. “I don’t think so. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes with your money.”
Another throaty chuckle. “I thought so, but now it’s twelve minutes. You done wasted three minutes talking instead of driving.”
Triana swore and hung up. Twelve minutes didn’t give her much time to stop at an ATM. She ran upstairs for her purse, calling Bodine on the way back down. Hopefully, she could get the PI to meet her. Unfortunately, he didn’t answer. She quickly left him a message, giving him the address Dominic had provided.
“I’ll call as soon I get something,” she added.
Triana started to drop her phone into her purse, then hesitated. Maybe she’d call Remy too. He might not care, but still…
She dialed his number before she had a chance to think better of it. It went to voice mail. She considered leaving a message but then hung up. For all she knew, he was ignoring her calls anyway, and she refused to come off as pathetic.
* * *
Remy and Max walked into the main briefing room of the NOPD SWAT facility, soaked to the bone and squishing water out of their boots with every step. They’d spent the whole morning working the streets of Bywater, Saint Claude, and the Lower Ninth Ward, doing everything from shoving water-stalled vehicles off the roads to helping those living in the worst of the flood-prone areas get to higher ground. The rain was still coming down in buckets, and in a city surrounded by levees, that meant lots of flooded streets. But at least it was better than getting hit with the storm head-on.
Still, it had been a long frigging morning and he was beat, which was unusual, considering werewolves rarely got tired. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe Max was right and his exhaustion had something to do with breaking up with Triana. It sounded crazy, but if that wasn’t it, what the hell was it?
Remy figured he and Max would be out helping people for hours, but Brooks had called fifteen minutes ago and told them to get their butts back to the shop ASAP. He hadn’t said why, but one look at Lorenzo standing off to one side of the briefing room, clearly tense as hell, not to mention the building outline drawn up on the whiteboard with access points and entrance routes marked all over it, and Remy knew why Brooks had told them to get back here. They were going after Aaron Lee again.
“Took you two long enough,” Brooks muttered, not looking up from the Google Maps image of a big building spread out on the table in front of him.
“Sorry about that,” Remy said. “There’s standing water on almost every street in the city now and some of the wind gusts are strong enough to shove a vehicle off the road if you start to hydroplane.”
“Whatever,” Brooks said. “Get over here so we can bring you guys up-to-speed on the plan. Zane and the team Drew selected for the raid are almost finished loading up.”
“We got the call from our informant?” Remy asked as he scanned the drawing on the whiteboard. From the size and layout of the building drawn there, it looked like another warehouse structure similar to the last one they’d raided.
Drew nodded. “A text actually. Our informant said Lee’s people are in a warehouse on Royal Street where one of the Mardi Gras krewes stores their floats. They probably figure it will be safer to use a location that has no connection to Lee. It’s going to take them a while to break down hundreds of pounds of meth, so we’ve got time to do this right.”
“Are we still keeping everyone else in the dark about this?” Remy asked.
Lorenzo nodded glumly. “Yeah. I haven’t told any of my people at major case or the DA’s office. That means we’re going in with no backup and no warrant. The warrant thing isn’t a problem because our informant gives us plenty of probable cause, but this had better work out right, or Lee won’t have to work very hard to get Drew and me fired. The NOPD will gladly do it for him.”
That was a sobering thought. “What’s the plan this time?”
He and Max listened as Brooks and Drew outlined the plan. It was relatively basic. They’d go in through all three entrances at the same time, hopefully catching whomever was inside completely by surprise.
As the two senior SWAT officers briefed them, Remy felt a shiver run down his back, making goose bumps break out along his arms. He saw Max look at him out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. How could he explain he just felt freaky all of a sudden?
“The only thing that will make this job complicated are all the parade floats in there,” Drew added. “If these guys see us coming, we could end up having to chase them around in that big warehouse like rats in a maze.”
Something like that wouldn’t have concerned Remy if it had just been Pack werewolves on this operation, but with the guys from Drew’s team involved, they had to worry about things getting out of hand quickly. The NOPD SWAT cops were good, but all it took was one lucky shot and one of the officers they’d been training with all week could end up dead.
As Remy followed Brooks and the others out of the briefing room, his legs suddenly gave out from under him as a wave of near-total panic swept through his gut, making him feel both weak and queasy. A second later, he felt a stab of pain lance through the back of his head, and he reached out to catch the doorjamb. The sensation was similar to something you’d feel if you were terrified, but that didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t been scared of anything since he’d turned into a werewolf.
Max grabbed his arm to keep him from falling. “What the hell, Remy? You okay?”
Remy nodded. “Fine.”
Shaking off Max’s hand, he strode out of the room, into the hallway. His friend fell into step beside him, concern in his blue eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t go on this mission.”
“I’m good,” Remy said, still trying to get a sense of where the sudden overwhelming sensations had come from, and more important, why he didn’t feel them now. “I’m tired because I didn’t sleep last night and I’ve been humping through cold water all day.”
It didn’t seem as if Max bought that any more than Remy did. His friend continued to regard him worriedly as they left the building and headed to the motor pool.
“Do you think this has something to do with breaking up with Triana?” Max asked.
Remy didn’t even try to answer that one. Scowling, he climbed into the back of one the NOPD SWAT operations vehicles while Drew and Brooks headed for another. Max closed the door behind them.
Zane held out their tactical gear, and Remy focused on getting the stuff on as the truck drove out of the enclosure, wishing like hell he had a dry uniform. What if Max was right? What if his decision to walk away from Triana was causing all this weird shit to happen to him?
“Did Brooks tell you that Cooper and Alex are on their way?” Zane asked, holding on to one of the truck’s equipment racks as the vehicle turned right at an intersection.
Remy was feeling a little out of it, so he wasn’t sure he’d heard that quite right. “No. Why are they coming here?”
Zane shrugged. “The NOPD SWAT guys who were in Dallas for training are coming back early because of the storm, so Gage sent Cooper and Alex with them in case the city needs some extra first responders.”
Remy nodded. Even if the storm didn’t get any worse, that was probably a good idea. Maybe they could give him some advice while they were here. While bot
h men had found their soul mates recently, neither of their relationships had been smooth sailing. If anyone knew whether this crap he was going through had something to do with him breaking up with Triana, it would be Landry Cooper and Alex Trevino.
Chapter 14
Triana sat in Dominic’s beat-up old Chevy Nova, staring through the rain-covered windshield at the big, white warehouse a couple of blocks down the street, wondering what the heck she was supposed to be looking at.
“How do I know there’s anyone even in there, much less the man who killed my father?” she finally asked. “No one has come in or out the whole time I’ve been here.”
“You’ve only been here a few minutes,” Dominic said from beside her, his sleepy eyes locked on the front door of the Mardi Gras krewe warehouse. “It looks like you’re just going to have to take my word for it unless you plan on getting out of this car and peeking in a window for yourself.”
As terrifying as that idea seemed, it was starting to look better and better with every passing second. She’d already been in Dominic’s Nova far longer than she wanted, certainly more than a few minutes. The interior of the ancient car smelled like booze, cigarettes, oil, and a few things Triana didn’t want to imagine. She was also getting the distinct feeling Dominic was starting to think there was going to be something more to this arrangement than the payment of five hundred dollars for services rendered. He’d already asked twice if she’d like to go out for a drink—in the middle of a hurricane.
“Did you at least get a better look at the guy?” she asked.
He’d given her a rather generic description the other day when they’d met at the bar, so she hoped he could tell her more now.
Dominic regarded her suspiciously, probably afraid she was going to run off and find the guy without paying him the five hundred dollars.
“He’s a big guy—six three, maybe 280 pounds. He looks like a frigging defensive end for the Saints.” Dominic scrunched up his face as if trying to remember what the man had looked like. “He had a shaved head and a tattoo of a snake or lizard running up the side of his neck all the way to his ear. I think I already told you about the tattoo of an anchor on his right arm. Didn’t I?”
