His Brown-Eyed Girl (A New Orleans Ladies Novel Book 2)

by Liz Talley

  “Addy?” the little girl called uncertainly.

  Robbie spun, tucking the knife behind his back. “Oh, who’s this?” he said in the same sing-song voice he’d used earlier.

  Charlotte’s blue eyes grew the size of half dollars as she watched the man move toward her.

  “No,” Addy shouted.

  Why had Charlotte climbed out of that closet? “Go upstairs, sweetheart. Miss Addy is visiting with an old friend.”

  Charlotte never took her eyes off Robbie, and in a small quiet voice she said, “But I wanna watch Creampie.”

  Addy moved quicker than a cat and put herself between the girl and Robbie. “She’s my neighbor. No need to involve her in this, Robbie.”

  He tore his gaze away from Charlotte and looked at Addy, a crazy gleam in his eye. “That wouldn’t be fun, now would it?”

  When Lucas got to the arena holding the motor cross races, he got an earful from Chris’ coach and the man’s supercilious attitude pissed him off. He’d already felt bad about Michael being late, but nothing compared to the way Addy had treated him. Like a damn stranger.

  He stomped toward the concession stand and got a beer, hoping it would reduce the sting of failure and the stress of driving like a stuntman to the other side of the Mississippi.

  After a few sips, he set the beer down. Wasn’t working. His gut still churned with acid.

  And his ticker had gotten sucker-punched all over again.

  Lucas sank onto a metal bench and plopped earplugs in his ears to protect from all the loud engine revving and feedback from the sound system. Thank God he’d prepared for it after going to Chris’ practice a few nights ago.

  He’d just pulled his phone out to check his parents had picked up Charlotte from Addy when he saw his father walk in the arena entrance.

  What the hell?

  Rising, he made his way down to where his parents stood. “Dad!”

  His father turned, tugged on his mother’s arm, and waved.

  Lucas jogged down. “What are y’all doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”

  His mother looked up from her phone. “You have Charlotte.”

  “You didn’t get Michael’s message?”

  His mother shook her head, her light brown hair brushing her thin shoulders. “No. You didn’t call us back. We assumed you had her with you.”

  “We left a message,” Lucas said, pointing at her phone.

  “Well, it’s a new phone,” his mother said, looking down at it with a frown.

  “Check it again, Fran,” John Finlay said, tapping one of the icons.

  His mother shook her head, made an apologetic face, and handed it to her husband. “I’m no good with these things. They confuse me.”

  “Ah, hell, I screwed up,” Lucas breathed, dropping a perfunctory kiss on his mother’s cheek. “I’ll call Addy and tell her it will be a bit longer. You might as well stay.”

  His father didn’t look up, just kept pressing buttons and frowning at Fran’s phone.

  “Surely she’ll understand,” Fran said, with an encouraging smile. “And at least we’ll get to watch Chris attempt to break his neck.”

  Lucas pulled out his own phone and dialed Addy’s number. He knew she wouldn’t be pissed but hated the added complication of dealing with her yet again. He’d told himself if he stayed away from her, his heart could start the healing process. He should have done what his parents had suggested and brought Charlotte with him.

  He waited for the call to connect, but it went directly to Addy’s voice mail.

  Strange. Addy always had her phone with her, and it was always charged. She’d told him it was one of her protocols for safety.

  He tried again.

  Same result.

  His father handed the phone back to his mother. “I miss the days where phones had a cord.”

  His mother rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but what would you do without your satellite radio and GPS?”

  John Finlay’s eyes held tenderness for his wife. “You know me too well.”

  “I can’t get in touch with Addy. I’ll try Aunt Flora while you two go up and sit. I’ll step out in the corridor,” he yelled as a dissonance of engines revved.

  His parents nodded their agreement and moved toward the stands sprinkled with other family members. Lucas headed toward the entrance, scrolling to Flora’s cell phone number.

  He called her phone three times, alternating with Addy’s, which still went directly to voice mail.

  On the forth call, a man answered.

  “Addy’s busy right now,” he said, before the line went dead.

  Lucas lowered the phone first confused by a man answering Flora’s phone and then wondering why he’d answered as if it were Addy’s phone.

  Something was wrong.

  And then it hit him like a train.

  The dude who had tried to hurt her fifteen years ago was out on parole. The image of the white truck he nearly hit—a vehicle out of place. A man waiting until the sun sank and the neighbor left to make his move.

  Lucas didn’t bother returning to the bleachers. He ran toward the front of the building, pushing out the glass doors, nearly knocking a man entering down.

  “Watch it, asshole,” the man yelled.

  But Lucas didn’t stop. He ran toward his truck, dialing 911 as he ran.

  “911. What’s your emergency?”

  “Send someone to 307 Orchard Street. No, wait. 309. 309 Orchard,” he said, jogging toward his truck, clicking the truck locks and wrenching the door open.

  “Calm down, sir, and give me your name.”

  “My name is not important. I need you to send a car to 309 Orchard Street, home of Flora… Oh, God, what’s her last name? I can’t remember, but Addy Toussant lives there and her stalker just got out of prison. Something’s wrong there.”

  He fired the engine and backed out of the lot as the woman asked his name again. “I’m Lucas Finlay. My brother lives next door at 307. Send a car now. Hurry.” He clicked the phone and tossed it in the seat, jetting into the intersection, searching the streets in front of him. Luckily, rush hour had died down and traffic was lighter. He headed toward the Crescent City Connection glowing on the horizon, trying not to kill anyone on his way to get to Addy and Charlotte.

  His heart raced. Panic choked him.

  “Get out of my way, get out of my way” was the mantra he kept repeating as he sped toward the house in Uptown.

  And in his head he prayed. Dear Lord, please don’t let me be too late. Please. I love her. I love them both.

  Never had he felt so helpless. To be six foot four and able to lift sixty-pound bags of feed two at a time, able to wrestle a steer to the ground, able to crush a can in one hand… but not able to stop what was going down in Addy’s world was intolerable.

  All he could do was drive like the hounds of hell were on his tail and pray to a God he’d ignored too often.

  Aunt Flora’s phone kept ringing on the granite, jittering like a dancing chicken, the ringtone something she’d heard by Bruno Mars. It seemed to really piss Robbie off.

  “Why does that goddamn phone keep ringing?” he shouted before grabbing Addy by her hair and dragging her toward one of the kitchen chairs. He shoved her in a chair. “Sit.”

  Addy fell against the chair, the sound screeching against the tile before the chair clattered to the floor. She popped up fast and reached toward Charlotte who’d darted toward her.

  Robbie made a grab for Charlotte but came up with air. He straightened and grinned at the little girl who’d wrapped herself around Addy’s legs. “Oh, little girl. Been so long since I’ve seen such innocence. Bet you’ll be the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

  Addy whimpered which seemed to please Robbie.

  He cast an annoyed look at where the phone jangled near the coffee pot. Then he returned his gaze to Addy. “Got me a two for one deal, huh?”

  “You sick bastard,” Addy said, lifting her chin. Terror ate away at her insides, but some
how she found her calm. She had no clue how she was able to even speak she was so afraid, but she found her voice again. She curled her hand around Charlotte’s head, pressing the child’s face to her belly. “Your issue is with me. Not Charlotte. She’s a baby.”

  He cocked his head. “I can’t turn down a gift like that, my brown-eyed girl.”

  Addy shook her head, doing her best to look sad for the man. “What a pitiful man you are. Didn’t you realize all these years you’ve sent those things, I wasn’t interested? What part of no don’t you understand?”

  He literally growled at her, but the phone rang yet again. He snatched it up and answered. “Addy’s busy right now.”

  Addy’s mind flipped through the possibilities of the caller. No one Aunt Flora knew would continue to call over and over again. Maybe her father? And why weren’t the Finlays here already? Maybe Lucas’s parents would see the front door open, catch a glimpse of Flora lying on the floor, and call the police.

  Maybe the police were already on their way.

  Please let them be on their way.

  She glanced again at the pepper spray on her key ring. If only she could slide over…

  Robbie tossed the phone onto the counter and advanced toward her. “You saying you didn’t like my presents?”

  She pushed Charlotte behind her and squared herself against him, paralyzed at the thought of him using the knife on her again, but not ready to cower. Not ready to give him what he craved.

  “Why would I want presents from someone who means nothing to me?”

  He slapped her again and Charlotte screamed, ducking under the table. “You’re pissing me off, Addy.”

  Addy turned her head so she could look him in the eye. “You may take me down, but I’m not scared of you, you pinky-dicked piece of scum.”

  The knife flashed in the kitchen light as he slid it to her throat. “You liked my dick at one point if I remember.”

  Addy swallowed, feeling hot tears slide down her face. “I didn’t know any better, did I?”

  The hatred in his eyes was a small reward, but then he slid the point of the knife across her throat, lightly like a caress. His other hand moved downward and she heard him unfasten his belt buckle. “You’re about to remember just what it’s like. I been waiting for your delicious piece of-”

  Addy had closed her eyes even as she prepared to fight him for her life—for Charlotte’s life—so she didn’t see what made Robbie stop his ugly words.

  Addy opened her eyes.

  Aunt Flora stood behind Robbie with her .38 special pressed to the back of his head.

  “Aunt Flora,” Addy cried, scooting back, pushing the table with a screech.

  “That’s right,” Aunt Flora said calm as dawn on the bayou. “It’s the old lady, and I got my friend with me.”

  Robbie made a slight move backward and Aunt Flora cocked the gun. “Uh, uh, uh. I don’t need a good reason to put you down, son.”

  Robbie dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor, and Addy reacted without thinking, kicking the weapon across the room.

  “I may be easy to knock down, but I got a steady hand, Mr. Guidry,” Aunt Flora said, pressing the gun to the back of his head so that Robbie’s head jolted forward.

  Addy had never seen her aunt look so intent, so absolutely terrifying. It was strange.

  “Go call the police, Addy. And you keep your hands where I can see them, scum,” Aunt Flora said, her hand not wavering, her eyes focused on Robbie.

  Robbie’s eyes had narrowed and Addy slipped around him, going for the phone he’d tossed down seconds ago. Charlotte had curled into a ball under the table, her wails of terror ripping at Addy’s heart. She’d just picked up the phone when she heard the sirens.

  Relief stole over her. “The police are here.”

  Robbie’s response wasn’t fit for polite company.

  “Take the baby and go let the police in. I’ve got this piece of horse dung under control,” Flora said like she was an arresting officer in Law and Order.

  Addy pulled Charlotte out from under the table, cradling the child in her arms. Charlotte locked her arms around Addy’s neck like a vise, her body shaking with her tears. “Shh, shh, Charlotte, it’s okay now. It’s okay.”

  Addy was afraid to leave Aunt Flora in case Robbie tried to flee, or even worse, take the gun from Flora. Addy had learned the hard way how easy it was for a perpetrator to take a weapon from a victim and use it on her. So she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding Charlotte and waiting on the first officer to arrive on the scene.

  She didn’t wait long.

  With one eye on Flora, Addy motioned the female officer inside. “He’s in the kitchen. My aunt has a gun.”

  “Ma’am, step back, please,” the officer said, gun drawn and her eyes focused on the kitchen doorway. She called into her mic. “Jeter, cover the back.”

  Addy scooted to the side, worried sick about Flora, but wanting the officer to be able to do her job. The policewoman entered the kitchen and Addy heard her say, “Okay, ma’am. I want you to step back and lower your weapon.”

  Aunt Flora answered, “You put your gun on this piece of scum, and I’ll be happy to step away.”

  “Do as I say,” the officer said again and Addy heard the back door burst open.

  And that’s when the shaking started. Her whole body shook violently as her legs buckled. Addy sank against the wall, lowering herself to the ground, clutching Charlotte who still clung to her, making mewling sounds like a little kitten.

  In the background she heard a male voice reading Robbie his rights and felt Flora’s cool hand against her neck.

  “Addy, you’re okay, honey,” Aunt Flora said, but Addy couldn’t stop shaking. “Here, let me take Charlotte.”

  Releasing Charlotte, Addy finally lifted her head. Her teeth chattered so she wrapped her arms around herself, looking up at Flora who still looked cool as ice. “Where did you get that gun?”

  “I’ve had that thing under my mattress for twenty years. Bought it when we had some gang trouble in the area around the shop, but now I keep in under my mattress.” Flora stroked Charlotte’s hair.

  “Dear God, if you hadn’t-” Addy finished off hearing the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. Seconds later the other officer marched a cuffed Robbie past them. Robbie turned, looked at her, and sneered.

  Addy turned away, unable to look at him one second longer.

  In the living area she could hear Aunt Flora soothing Charlotte. Lights from the cruiser bounced intrusively on the wood floor, and the female officer stood in the door calling numbers into a microphone-looking thing on her shoulder. Moths fluttered in seeking light.

  And Addy sat alone.

  This is what she’d wanted, right? She’d pushed Lucas away, pushed everyone away. She thought she could protect herself, but she hadn’t been able to. She’d nearly died, nearly erased the life she could have had with Lucas all because she’d been afraid. She’d decided standing outside with her nose pressed to the window was better than opening the door and taking a chance on something more. Okay, so she had opened the door and stuck her head in, but when things got too unstable, she’d pulled it back out.

  What good was a life unlived worth?

  She needed Lucas beside her. She needed to take a chance on something more than what she now had.

  “Ma’am, medical assistance is on its way,” the police officer said, looking from Addy to Aunt Flora. “But I also need to ask some questions about what happened.”

  Flora nodded, looking down at Addy. “Can you stand up, sweetheart?”

  Addy nodded and began to push herself up… and that’s when Lucas arrived.

  When Lucas pulled onto Orchard Street, he was met with the flashing blue and red lights of a police car. Behind him, he could see the accompanying lights of an ambulance making its way from the other direction.

  His heart hit his churning stomach, and like a man possessed he hurtled toward Addy’s house.
With a squeal of tires, he skidded into his brother’s driveway, leaping from the truck and running toward the house next door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a police officer loading a man in cuffs into the cruiser. Part of Lucas wanted to veer toward the asshole and use him as a punching bag, but the other part needed to get to Addy and Charlotte.

  He took the front steps two at a time and burst through the open front door.

  “Addy!”

  She sat on the floor at the feet of Flora and a police officer. Charlotte wiggled out of Flora’s arms and ran for him, her little bare feet slapping the floor. She launched herself at him and he snatched her up, hugging her to him as he moved toward Addy. He’d never thought baby shampoo smelled better than it did at that moment.

  “Uncle Wucas, there was a bad man who tried to hurt me,” she said her small voice muffled by his shirt.

  He hugged the snot-streaked, sweaty little girl tight. “You’re safe, Lottie. You’re safe,” he crooned, walking toward the women clustered in the small hallway between the living area and kitchen.

  He processed everything about the woman he loved. Addy’s hair tangled around her ashen face and a piece stuck to one cheek, where a purpling bruise emerged. A small smear of blood beneath her nose, and when her eyes met his, he saw the terror within.

  Not thinking twice, he handed the child to the police officer, reached down and picked up Addy, wrapping her in his arms as he had Charlotte.

  “Oh, God, Lucas,” she said, her body trembling against his. She clung to him, fisting her hands in the back of his shirt.

  “Shh, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said low in her ear, turning and walking into the living room, sinking onto the couch, cradling her like a child. Her body shook hard, but no tears emerged, making him wonder if she was in shock.

  He glanced at the officer who’d followed them, still holding Charlotte, and saw understanding in her eyes. Flora also followed, sinking into a chair, and pressing her hands against her face.

  Finally, Addy lifted her head. “Oh, Lucas, I’m so sorry Charlotte had to be part of this. I should have said no. I had no idea-”

  “It’s all right, Addy. None of this was your fault,” he said, smoothing her hair.