Bayou Bodyguard

by Jana DeLeon

  “What about Tom?”

  “Same as always. Expects death and despair from the spirits.” Brian sighed. “I did find out that he used to own one of those cabins along the bayou that back up to the trail to laMalediction. In fact, he just sold it to our friendly mechanic. I was trying to casually get the other cabin owners’ names from him when the sheriff interrupted. Then I couldn’t find a good way to work back into the conversation.”

  “Maybe you can try again tomorrow.”

  “Maybe. What about you? Any luck with the voodoo woman?”

  Justine shook her head, trying to temper the disappointment and sadness that began to overwhelm her every time she thought of her mother. “Not really. She’s…she’s not well, really. She remembered the story of the lion statue, but I couldn’t get more out of her.”

  “Alzheimer’s?”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Something like that.”

  “How long does your mother have?”

  Tears immediately formed in her eyes and she sucked in a breath. “How did you find out?”

  “I remembered.”

  She looked up at him and the compassion in his eyes was all it took to send her tears spilling over. “It was the spaghetti, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s why I remembered, yeah. That night when you smiled, sitting there with spaghetti sauce on the collar of your shirt, something flashed in my mind. I just couldn’t place it, but earlier today it clicked into place.”

  Justine swiped at the tears on her cheeks with her hand. “I didn’t want you to remember. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “But someone already does—here in Cypriere.”

  Justine nodded. “That’s what it looks like.” She told him about the picture of her mother in a straitjacket that had been left in her room the first night in the house.

  “There’s no way they recognized you that quickly, found that picture and snuck into laMalediction in the same day. You realize that means someone has been keeping track of you for a long time—knew you were coming to laMalediction before you ever got here.”

  “I know. I just don’t understand why. I just want to forget the past and move on. Why keep dredging it up? Why keep track of me, just waiting for an opportunity to bring up my horrible past?”

  Brian moved over to the couch to sit beside her, and placed his hand on hers. “I understand.”

  Justine shook her head. “You couldn’t possibly.”

  “You’re right. I can’t understand the level and depth of your pain, but I do understand being so embarrassed by what others have done that you want to become someone else.”

  “You had the perfect family. I could tell that night, just from that short amount of time I spent there. Your parents were great.”

  Brian nodded. “But my uncle wasn’t. Right before his scheduled retirement, he was investigated by the state. They found that he’d repeatedly abused inmates, beating them and sometimes raping the women. He’d been on the take with every illegal business in town.”

  Justine sat upright. “You’re kidding. Someone finally believed a complaint about your saintly uncle?”

  Brian’s expression shifted from sympathetic to horrified. “Oh, no, don’t tell me…your mother… Oh, hell. How bad?”

  “You don’t want to know. He convinced the hospital that she’d done it to herself. Given the entirety of her actions that night, they believed him.”

  “Justine, I am so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”

  He was so clearly miserable, Justine felt her heart go out to him. It was hard not to feel guilty for the actions of those close to you. She knew that in spades. “It’s not your fault. You were just a child. Nothing that happened to our family or that our family members did was our fault.”

  “But the stigma follows you. I don’t blame you for changing your identity. I would have done the same thing.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “We had to move after news of my uncle’s exploits made it through town, which was about ten minutes after his arrest, given the size of the place. Our house was vandalized and we received hate mail. My dad got a job transfer to another town and we moved. Fortunately, he was my mom’s brother, so we didn’t share a last name. I can’t imagine what the New Orleans Police Department would think if they ever made the connection.”

  He looked Justine straight in the eyes. “And none of that compares at all with what you must have gone through. Still go through, dealing with her. I don’t know how I’d feel if I were you.”

  “I don’t know how to feel most of the time. I love her but I hate what she is, even though I know it’s the disease that made her do the things she did. I sometimes resent the burden of seeing to her care, because she wasn’t there to see to mine, but I feel horrible that she’s dying and her life was so bad.” The emotional dam in Justine burst open and a few sobs slipped through.

  Brian gathered her in his arms, holding her close to him as she cried. “Of course you feel bad,” Brian whispered as he stroked her back. “You never had an opportunity for normal, and neither did she.”

  The heat from Brian’s body warmed Justine, as did his words. She’d expected…anger, repulsion…she wasn’t sure. What she had not anticipated was empathy, especially from the nephew of one of her mother’s abusers. The fact that they’d both been hurt by the man made his words mean that much more.

  She took a breath to regain control, and pushed back just a bit so that she could look at him. “I really appreciate your understanding. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you with this earlier.”

  Brian reached one hand up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “You didn’t know you could trust me, especially given the past. I hope you know now that you can.”

  Justine nodded.

  Brian’s eyes were locked on hers, his arms still held her close, and even before he lowered his lips to hers, she knew he was going to kiss her. And she knew she wasn’t going to pull away. But the way her body responded, the heat that rose from her core, was something she hadn’t expected. Never before had she experienced such a heady feeling from one man’s touch.

  She returned his kiss with a passion she didn’t know she had, and when he parted her lips with his tongue, she felt her heart beat faster. He trailed kisses down her neck to the sensitive skin on her shoulders and she moaned.

  “I want you, Justine,” Brian whispered, his voice husky.

  “Yes,” Justine managed.

  He lifted her effortlessly from the couch and carried her to his bedroom. He slowly relieved her of her clothes, kissing every square inch of her body before he lowered her onto the bed. White-hot heat burned from her core as she watched him undress, and her body tingled with anticipation as he rolled on a condom and moved over her.

  He lowered his head to kiss her long and deep, and entered her with a single thrust.

  Justine cried out as pleasure rushed through her body. She clutched his back and pulled him deeper into her, lifting her hips to match his stride. Her mind was almost hazy with the intensity of the joining, her body aching for the release she knew was coming. She could feel it building in her with every thrust, and she dug her nails into his back when she was perched just on the edge.

  Brian paused for only a moment before he plunged one last time and sent them both over the brink.

  BRIAN LAY BACK ON THE BED, his arm curled around Justine, who lay with her head in the crook of his shoulder. Their bodies fit together as if they were designed for each other, just as they had when making love. Brian had been aware of his attraction to Justine from the beginning, but even in his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined a joining like he and Justine had experienced. It was different from being with any other woman—the intensity, the passion was something he’d never felt before.

  She was so different from any other woman he’d ever known—so many layers, and all of them shaping who she was today. Justine Chatry was the kind of woman a man could spend every day of his life discovering something about, and the
fact that all of it wouldn’t be pleasant only showed her strength of character and made her that much more attractive. There were so many things he wanted to ask her right now, but he was afraid of ruining the moment.

  “You want to know about my mother,” Justine said quietly, “but you won’t ask because you don’t want to upset me.”

  Brian stared down at her. “How… I didn’t…”

  “I’m not a mind reader, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t share my mother’s beliefs or her self-perceived skills. It’s just that, if I were you, I’d want to know.”

  “How ill is she?”

  “Terminal. The doctors give her a month, or maybe two. The valves in her heart are shot and her organs are failing. Perhaps from all the drugs she’s been prescribed over the years. Perhaps from her own self-medicating. No matter. She’s not eligible for transplants, and even if she was, her heart wouldn’t stand the surgery required.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. It’s a horrible way to die. I guess the only comfort I have is in knowing that her mental state protects her from knowing the worst of it. She’s rarely coherent anymore.”

  “What about your father? Does he help with her at all?”

  “I don’t know who my father is. I’m not sure my mother does, either. My mother would take her medication for a while, and once she felt better she’d stop. Most men aren’t interested in that big of a personality swing in their mate, especially not from day to day.”

  Brian shook his head, trying to grasp how hard it must have been for Justine, growing up in that household. The men her mother dated could escape, but Justine was only a child. “Who raised you, you know…after?”

  “A nurse who’d cared for my mother in the institution. She told social services she was my aunt, but that wasn’t the truth. No one knows much about my mother’s past. She was a good woman, the nurse, and she and her husband did everything they could to see that I got a second chance at a normal life.”

  “They sound wonderful.”

  “They were.”

  “Were?”

  “Yeah, they were killed in a car accident about five years ago. A hit-and-run. The cops never caught the guy who did it.”

  Brian let out a sigh. Yet another case of the police failing Justine completely. And Justine had been essentially left alone in the world, yet again. “That sucks. You’ve had to deal with so much, and yet you’re so accomplished, so together. Most people would have fallen apart. You’re a special woman, Justine.”

  Justine looked up at him and he could see tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. He stroked her face with one hand and leaned down to kiss her. As his lips touched hers, he felt whole, complete, and he gathered her into his arms as the kiss deepened.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Justine awakened the next morning to the sound of bacon frying. She opened her eyes and was momentarily startled when she didn’t recognize the room. Then she remembered she was in a rental house in Cypriere. In Brian’s bedroom. Brian’s bed. The sheets around her smelled of his aftershave mixed with her shampoo, and memories of the night before flooded her mind.

  She’d never felt so completely consumed with a man, and yet so comfortable with the thought of it. Brian was so strong and so gentle, so firm in his beliefs, yet so understanding of others. Add all his internal strengths to the very sexy external male, and it was one powerfully attractive package.

  And one who deserves better than the dismal future you have to offer.

  The thought ripped through her mind and she felt a wave of nausea pass over her. What had she done? She’d opened her heart and mind to a man, now knowing with certainty that any kind of future was impossible. No way would she drag another human being down with her, especially one she cared about. Brian deserved so much more than to be in the same position with his lover that she’d endured as a child with her mother.

  Even worse, she was still lying to him and had spent the night with him without telling him the truth. She climbed out of bed and found her clothes where Brian had laid them, across a chair in the corner of the room. Always so thoughtful. So caring. If only things could be different. Brian almost made her want to take the risk, but for his sake she couldn’t. She pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and tried to get her thoughts under control. As far as she was concerned, last night was a huge mistake that should have never happened, and couldn’t happen again.

  Now all she had to do was convince him of something she didn’t even believe herself.

  She walked down the hall and paused just before entering the living room to focus. Then she stepped into the living room, determined to set everything back to the way it was before.

  “Morning.” Brian smiled as she crossed the room and slid onto a stool at the kitchen counter. He poured her a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her. “I know you usually get up earlier, but you were sleeping so well, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

  Justine added artificial sweetener to the coffee and took a drink of the strong brew. “That’s okay. If I didn’t need the sleep, I would have awakened.”

  “I’m the same way. You want some breakfast? The bacon’s done, and I was going to scramble some eggs to go with it.”

  “Sounds good,” Justine said, trying to keep her voice from sounding strained. It was too homey—sitting there drinking coffee while Brian made breakfast for them. Too comfortable.

  “I could get used to this,” Brian said as he scrambled eggs in a skillet.

  Justine froze. Everything about this was wrong, and she had to put a stop to it before Brian got any more ideas about the future that was not going to happen. “Brian, I…I think last night was great in some ways, but it was also a huge mistake.” She stared down at her coffee.

  He stopped stirring the eggs and several excruciating seconds of dead silence followed. “Is that really how you feel—that showing genuine emotion is a mistake? Somehow wrong? I won’t deny that I’m attracted to you and care about you. What are you afraid of?”

  Justine looked up at him. His eyes showed both the hurt and anger he felt, which made her feel even worse. But didn’t absolve her from what she needed to do. “With everything you know about my mother, you have to ask what I’m afraid of? You’re a smart guy, Brian. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  Brian moved the skillet off the hot burner. “You’re afraid of what people think of your mother? I already know who she is. How does that have any bearing on me and you?”

  “I think it has bearing on who I could become. No one deserves to deal with that—especially with someone they love.”

  His eyes widened. “You think you’ll become like her? Justine, I don’t know what to say. Given your mother’s undocumented past, you have no idea what contributed to her mental illness. To assume she was born with it is already a stretch, but to think you inherited the gene is absurd, especially with no proof.”

  “Really? So you’d be willing to take that risk? Willing to marry, buy a house, have kids with someone who could be a ticking time bomb?”

  “I just don’t see it that way. You have no medical reason to believe that you’ll develop the same issues. You’re restricting your entire life, based on a thread.”

  Justine bit her lip. His suggestion that she was acting foolish bothered her even though he wasn’t working with a full set of information. Given the earnest look on his face, he wasn’t going to give up without it. She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I kept something else from you. Something I suspected before but wasn’t able to verify until yesterday.”

  Brian’s expression shifted to one of unease. “What?”

  “I think I’m a descendant of the Borques. When the news stories about laMalediction broke, my mom got agitated and started talking in snippets of the past. When Olivia contacted me for the job, some of the details she provided sounded the same as some of my mother’s lifelong ramblings.”

  “So you took the job but never told Olivia why.” A f
lush started at the base of Brian’s neck and moved slowly up his face. “You used us—all of us, for your own agenda.”

  Justine struggled to control her own anger at his words. After all, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Olivia also asked me to research the family tree as part of my job, so my ‘agenda’ aligned with what I was hired to do. Since when is wanting to know one’s family lineage a horrible thing?”

  Brian started to reply and she held up one hand to stop him. “And before you make a comment about inheritance, remember that I didn’t know anything about the estate until you gave me the details. This is not about money. I don’t want anything to do with this tainted mess.”

  Brian frowned. “Then why?”

  Justine sighed. “I hoped that if I could trace my mother’s family, I could figure out if her mental problems were hereditary.”

  Brian’s face cleared in understanding. “Well, then, you should feel better now, not worse. I know what happened at laMalediction back then was tragic and odd and heavily steeped in voodoo and other old beliefs, but based on my understanding of the events, Marilyn Borque wasn’t crazy. You should feel better knowing that.”

  “If I was a descendant of Marilyn, I would.”

  Brian’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell. You’re not saying…”

  “It looks like my mother and Wheeler may have shared the same father—a father who descended from Franklin Borque. I don’t think Franklin Borque’s or Wheeler’s mental states were remotely questionable.”

  Brian’s face fell and his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to say, except that it’s still not certain. Based on the diary entries, I agree something wasn’t right with Franklin, but Wheeler’s issues could have centered around good, old-fashioned greed.”