Dark Redemption

by Angie Sandro

  “Hey,” Mala says, snapping her fingers and waving her hand.

  “Sorry, love.” I reach out to grab her trembling hand, silently promising to hold on to her for as long as she needs me. With a quick tug, I pull her up onto the seat. She collapses against my shoulder and nestles into the curve of my body. Her fingers clench mine hard enough to cut off circulation.

  After a heavy sigh, she whispers, “I’m beat.”

  I wish I could let her rest. “Well, deep breaths, ’cause it’s not over.” I nudge her head with a lift of my shoulder. “Carl got arrested. The deputy said we can pick him up from the station.”

  “I know, Bessie told me.” She points out the window. Her voice deepens as it takes on an English accent, “Make it so, Number One. Warp speed ahead.”

  I laugh and untangle her fingers to get the truck into gear and then pull around the ambulance parked by the curb. Mala rests her hand on my thigh, and my muscles clench. Only a couple more inches to the left and she’ll feel how very aware of her agile fingers I am.

  A quick glance in her direction shows she’s far from operating on the same wavelength. She glares out the window with a pinpoint gaze sharp enough to burn a hole through the windshield. Her chest heaves faster and faster with each breath. Finally she snaps. “What’s wrong with that woman?” Her fingernails dig into my thigh. “First she decides to pull the plug on Dena, and then she lets her son get arrested. What kind of parent does that?”

  I pry her fingers free before she accidentally skewers my balls into shish kebabs. “The kind who abandons her children for years with no word.” I flip on the turn signal, checking for oncoming traffic before pulling onto Main Street. “Do we really want to know what goes through that woman’s head? Even if we could read her mind, we’ll never be able to understand her. She’s lived a different kind of life than us.”

  “You’d think she would’ve learned after getting away from Acker, but then she goes and hooks up with that loser Judd. How hard is it to choose a decent guy?”

  I shrug. “Luck plays a huge part. There’s only one of me in the world, and you’re the only woman I want.”

  “Luck’s got nothing to do with it. Even when you were angry and grieving for your sister, I sensed the goodness in you. I couldn’t help falling in love with you, Landry Prince.” Her hand returns to my thigh. She gives it a playful squeeze.

  I shift in my seat, trying to ease the pain from the swell in my jeans “I’m your kryptonite,” I say, in a voice hoarse with repressed sexual frustration. Man, if only Carl didn’t need us right now. My hands grip the steering wheel so I don’t accidentally-on-purpose turn down the street leading to the Super Delight.

  Mala’s hand slides higher up my thigh. “Mm, I feel like I’m dying every time you do that twisty-swirly thing with your tongue.” She shivers. “How about pulling down that alley so we can take this discussion into the…back.” Her voice cracks on the word. She throws a quick look over her shoulder, and all the air explodes out of her. “Saints! How in the world did I forget about Sophia? Where is she?”

  I point to the sticky note I’d crumpled up and tossed onto the floor. “I found that stuck to the steering wheel. Guess she got tired of waiting and walked back to the hotel.”

  “That woman’s driving me crazy. I understand her even less than I do Pepper. Why is she so determined to help us all of a sudden? She knows how much we despise her, but she’s sticking to us like a piece of gum on the bottom of a shoe.” She glances down at the floorboard as if she really had gum on her boot. When she leans over, I guess it’s the case, but she lifts a blue glass bottle and tilts it up to the light shining through the window. “What’s this?”

  “Ah, the note. Sophia said for you to drink this. It’s for cleansing your body of the residual taint from being trapped in that spell circle.” My nose twitches. “It tastes like minty licorice…pretty gross. Better hold your breath when you drink it.”

  Mala throws a skeptical grimace in my direction. “Are you really advocating that I drink something that Sophia left? You do recall she’s the one who drugged our champagne.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Plus, who knows what’s in this. What if it’s not okay for the baby?”

  That shuts off the internal argument I’ve been preparing to convince her to trust Sophia. She has a point. I don’t know why I believed the woman. I guess seeing the pain in her eyes when she saw Gaston today made her seem less sinister, more human. Plus how helpful she was in freeing Mala from the trap lowered my guard. I can’t deny that I feel some sort of bond with her, but I don’t know why or where it came from. And I’d be a fool to trust her with Mala and the baby’s safety when she’s lied to us in the past.

  “How about if you wait until we find out exactly what’s in it,” I say slowly.

  “My thought exactly.”

  Still…“Ferdinand also said it’s important.”

  Mala lays the bottle on the seat. “I trust them about as far as I can throw them.” Her fingernails drum a rhythm on the glass. “So what do you think about the whole pregnancy thing?”

  Loaded question. “Uh, how do you feel about it?”

  She shrugs. “I’m kind of still in shock. I mean, you’d think I would’ve had time to adjust to the idea.” She glances at me. “It’s been a few weeks since I missed my period.”

  “How far along do you think you are?”

  “Maybe about six weeks. I think…my birthday.”

  My lips flicker at the memory of how we celebrated her twenty-first birthday. Dad watched the kids while we went to a performance by her favorite zydeco band, along with a shared platter of crawfish, beer, and a quickie at the Super Delight Motel. Mr. Khan even gave us a half-price discount for our hour in the “honeymoon suit.” The Super D isn’t the most romantic of settings, but we got more than our money’s worth out of the vibrating heart-shaped bed with leopard-print bedding. I doubt anything compares to Magnolia’s suite where we had our first time. But compared to the toolshed, in the heat of the moment, it was hot.

  Unfortunately we didn’t have much time with Dad babysitting the kids. He’s stricter about our curfew than when I was in high school. Now his worst fears have come true.

  “We’re pregnant.” I draw out the breath that follows the word. “It’s happening sooner than I thought.”

  “Sooner…How about I hadn’t planned on getting married until after I finished college. I wanted to at least have Axle in high school before even thinking of getting pregnant.”

  I cut a glance in her direction. “I don’t have that long, Mala.”

  She hisses. “Landry…”

  “This might be my only chance.” I grip the steering wheel. “I know it’s not part of your long-term plan. Being with me and all, but…

  “Of course, you’re part of my long-term plan. Who do you think I’m planning to do all this with? You’re not leaving me alone. Especially if we’re having a kid, so wipe that doom-and-gloom thought right out of your head. We’ll find a way to save you.”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak. “Anyway, I know it’s a shock. But I’m happy.”

  “I’m not sad,” she says slowly. “How can I be when I’m having a child with you? It’s just that the timing sucks. For us, at least. I still wonder about Magnolia dipping her magic fingers into this mess. I mean, we were careful, Landry. This doesn’t feel like an accident. It feels planned.”

  That or we’re the butt of a cosmic joke. The universe’s ultimate punching bags.

  I turn into the parking lot in front of the Bertrand Parish Sheriff’s Office and park in front of the flagpole. The shadows of the flags blowing in the wind cross Mala’s face. I cup her cheek and lean in. Her lips part as they meet mine. Her fingers clench in my hair, holding my face to hers as her tongue explores my mouth with a scary, yet sexy desperation. Her scent invades my nose with my quick inhale. She smells different than usual, sweeter. I’ve noticed the subtle change for the last few weeks. Is it
pregnancy hormones? All I know is I feel super protective of her. I want to hold on to her and never let her leave my arms.

  She pulls back with a hitched breath, then presses one last lingering kiss on my lips. Tears sparkle in her eyes, but don’t fall. “Ready to go kick Judd’s ass?”

  A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow hard, then say, “I’ll let you handle him. I’m so pissed, I might lose my shit with him this time.”

  “Tsk, you saw how well I did with Pepper at the hospital. Weeping and wailing. Pathetic.”

  “You were in shock. Should we call an attorney? I kept the public defender who represented me on speed dial in case something went wrong again.”

  “Smart, given the horrible luck we have.” Mala opens her door.

  I grab her arm. “Hold on, let me get you.”

  “Wow, special treatment. I think I’m really going to enjoy being pregnant.”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna spoil you both rotten for as long as I can.” I jump out and slam the door on her automatic protest. It doesn’t matter what she says about finding a way to survive. I need to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best. I’ve already decided to fight. No matter what, I won’t give in.

  “Do you hear that?” I think to the creature sleeping in my head. It doesn’t stir. Maybe it doesn’t feel like wasting its time on an answer.

  I walk slowly around the truck, forming a plan to drive her so crazy with thoughts of ripping off my clothes that there’s no room for sadness. I pause in front of the open door. Mala must’ve spent her time doing the same because the look she gives me from beneath her lashes sends a spike of heat straight to my groin. Just thinking about her wrapped around me, so hot, tight…Ah hell, it takes everything within me not to lay her back on the seat. Sweat pops on my forehead, and I wipe it off with a trembling hand.

  “Are you okay?” Mala asks, voice husky. Her fingernails sear a trail of fire around the back of my neck, and I shudder. I can’t not touch her. My arms wrap around her firm ass cheeks, and I drag her out of the truck. Her legs wrap around my waist, thighs clenching, to seal the space between our bodies. She rubs up against the strained seam of my zipper with a tiny moan. Her face tips upward, and she purses her lips slightly.

  Wicked girl! One more wiggle, just one, and I’m spent. Does she sense how close she is to breaking me, or even care? Do I care? Then I dimly remember we’re in the parking lot of the sheriff’s office so we can get Carl.

  I gather the shredded threads of my control and tie them together in a frayed knot. I go for safety over satisfaction. Instead of claiming those pouty lips, I brush the tip of my nose across the end of hers. Eskimo kisses always make her squirm, and this is no exception. She licks her lips, straining forward. I dip my head again, but pull back before claiming her mouth. She lets out a low moan as I slide her down my body, angling my knee slightly so she rubs down it. Her hands grip my shoulder, nails digging into my skin, and her knees buckle.

  “Behave,” I whisper, pointing to the security camera attached to the flagpole. “Wave to whoever’s watching us.”

  Mala gasps and jerks back. “You tease.”

  “Thought you needed a taste of your own medicine, but I’m the one paying the price.” I wince, shifting my stance until I’m hidden from view by the open door. “Give me a few minutes to recover. I’ll follow you inside.”

  Mala’s gaze dips to the bulge in my pants. Her laughter bursts out, and she waggles her finger at me. “Ha, serves you right.”

  Yeah, it does. Should’ve known better. I’m a glutton for punishment. And I throb, aching for her. Unlike me, Mala doesn’t seem to be physically handicapped by our interlude in any way, other than her puffed-up ego. She slams the door and almost skips toward the front entrance, probably mentally patting herself on the back the whole way. Just before she goes inside, she spins around and blows a kiss in my direction. Do I catch it? Hell no.

  I lean back against the side of the truck, stretching out my legs and adjusting myself slightly to make more room inside the crotch. My eyes close, and I focus on anything but my mouth sucking on Mala’s tits, which is hard since I’m once again thinking of my tongue teasing her nipples until they’re hard little nubs.

  I’ve got Mala on the brain, both of them. You’d think I’d be used to blue balls. Sure it’s torture, but by tonight Mala will be so hot and ready. I won’t even have to make the first move. She’ll drag me off to some secluded corner, rip off my clothes, or not, and fuck my brains out. Then when we’ve calmed down, I’ll make sweet love to her until she screams.

  My grin curdles at the skid of tires on pavement. I straighten just as a white car shoots into the parking space beside my truck. The front passenger tire barely misses my toes. Even with steel-toe boots that would’ve hurt. Asshole parked too close. I won’t be able to open the door without scratching the other car. Which turns out to be the lesser of my worries.

  Judd exits the car with a loud curse. Rage flushes his face beet red. He waves a piece of paper over his head. “This is your doing, isn’t it?” Before I can ask what he’s talking about, not that I really care, he races in my direction. It doesn’t take him long to reach me, but I’ve got enough time to decide on how to counter his aggression.

  I don’t try to avoid his punch.

  Swing, baby, I think, staggering backward when his fist connects with my jaw. This is all getting caught on video.

  Chapter 13

  Mala

  Faking It

  Thank goodness the lobby’s empty. My body still throbs with the heat generated by Landry’s kiss. Sweaty curls cling to my forehead, and I swipe them back with a trembling hand and huff, releasing the buildup of sexual frustration tightening my chest.

  With a dab of my finger, I ring the buzzer. The records clerk takes her sweet time turning away from her computer. I must’ve caught her in the middle of a thought. Go figure. For Sana Lane, those are far and few between. My finger hovers over the buzzer, ready to give a long blast to show my irritation, when she finally rolls her chair back and rises. I’m glad I held back when her face lights up in recognition.

  “Oh hi, Malaise.” Her microbraids end in curls that bounce on her shoulders as she hustles up to the window. “Hang on a minute.”

  She steps out of sight. I know from the time when I used to work with her that she’s headed into the hallway. I go over to the door and form a cup around my eyes, trying to see through the one-way glass. The door moves beneath my hands, and I take a huge step backward when it swings open. Lane stands there with a grin. “Come on back. Winters wants to talk to you.”

  Yay for me. I step inside and let the door swing shut. She leads me into the dispatch center. I look for Dixie, but another woman sits in front of the radio, talking into the headset. I don’t know her. She must be new. She eyes me for a brief second and then nods, but she doesn’t stop typing the call she’s receiving into the computer.

  “Who is she?” I ask Sana, who fiddles with her skirt.

  “I don’t remember her name,” she whispers, then shrugs. “I didn’t even bother to remember yours until you’d been on the job six months. I think she might last. She used to work for Lafayette PD, so she’s experienced.”

  I nod. “You said Winters wants to speak with me? Are you gonna take me to her?”

  “She’s done with the interview. She’ll bring Carl to you.” Footsteps sound down the hallway, and Sana leans out the doorway. “Here they come.”

  I move into the hall to see Carl walking toward me. His face appears lifeless. Straw-colored hair hangs over his downcast blue eyes. He rubs his wrists, as if trying to wipe away the memory of the handcuffs that have just been removed.

  Deputy Winters has the cuffs in her hands and she places them into the handcuff holder on her duty belt. She follows a few steps behind in silence. Not much expression crosses her sharp features, but her hawk-like nose twitches when she sees me. She’s Bessie’s niece by marriage and is a few years older than Maggie and me
. We never really bonded as children. I think she sees me as a rival for Bessie’s affections, but I don’t feel the same way about her. I respect the fact that she wants to move up in the ranks at BPSO without abusing her aunt’s position of authority or creating any rumors of favoritism.

  I give her a civil nod, then focus on Carl. “Hey, brat, you okay?”

  His head pops up. When he sees me, Carl shuffle-runs down the hall. I expect him to stop, but instead, he falls into my arms, almost taking us both to the ground. Saints, he’s too big for me to hold, but I don’t say it. Next thing I know, he straightens up and lifts me into the air. It freaks me out a bit, but I just pat him on the back, wishing I could do more to comfort him.

  “Are you really his guardian?” Winters asks.

  Carl suddenly realizes there’s an audience to his less than manly reaction to our reunion. He drops me to my feet. I grip his shoulder to catch my balance, but he slips back and crosses his arms. I grunt. “Yeah.”

  She shakes her head and holds out a yellow carbon-copy paper.

  My head pounds at the smirk on her face. I snatch the paper from her hand; a quick glance down shows it’s a citation. “Are you kidding me? You’re charging him with battery? What about the so-called victim?”

  “Judd Helmert? Lieutenant Caine cited him for child abuse.” Her large brown eyes glow. “My guess is he’ll be contacting you soon to see if you’ll drop the charges on him.”

  Ah, he’ll want to make a deal. “Yeah, not happening.”

  “Handle it any way you want. I doubt DA Cready will file on Carl anyway. Helmert’s the aggressor, and I’ll put the witness statements in the report to back it up.” Her composure cracks as she drawls, “What a jerk. Is he really Pepper Acker’s boyfriend? She has the worst taste in men.”

  I scowl, throwing a warning glance toward Carl, and Winters grimaces, mouthing Sorry.