“I thought you wanted to talk,” I said. With my cheek pressed against the wall, I could just see him out of the corner of my eye.
He laughed. “You are a firecracker all right,” he said, pushing my wrist into the small of my back. My shoulder throbbed as he leaned against me, his breath hot near my ear. “You mostly just need to listen,” he said.
I closed my eyes, cursing myself for not leaving sooner, like Jack had wanted me to.
“Jack will be home any second. He’ll murder you for this.”
He laughed. “Your boyfriend’s stuck in a fire. A big one that he likely won’t make it out of. Some warehouse that went up like a tinderbox.” I could smell the bourbon on his breath. “It’s tragic really, the way he left here to fight a fire, only to leave you to die in one.”
My heart pounded. I squirmed under his grip.
“This old place will go up in no time too,” he said. “You just got lucky before.”
“There’s no need to do this. I’m leaving town. You’ll never see me again.”
“It’s a little late for bargaining, don’t you think?” He grabbed my free hand and pulled it behind me. “Now hold still, or I’ll make this hurt a lot more than it has to.” With both of my wrists in one of his hands, he fumbled in his pocket for something. His weight shifted, and I slammed my head backwards as hard as I could.
There was a loud crack and a bolt of pain in the back of my skull, but his grip loosened long enough for me to whirl myself around and punch. My fist landed at his throat, and he gagged. He reached for me, stumbling, but I yanked my arm free from his grasp. I fell against the table and then felt his hands on my back. My hammer was by the corner of the table, half buried by the newspaper.
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back as I fumbled for the hammer. When my hand found the handle, he spun me around to face him, and I swung.
He jerked his head back, missing most of the blow, but the hammer caught him on the jaw. He lunged at me then, his eyes dark with fury. One hand locked around my wrist as he slammed me back against the wall. I saw tiny pinpricks of light as my head hit the wood. Still clenching the hammer, I willed my arm to swing, but his grip was too strong. He shoved my wrist into the wall, and the hammer clattered to the floor. Pain shot through my arm, making my eyes water.
“You’re going to be sorry you did that,” he said, his voice still eerily calm. He locked his other hand around my throat, and I gasped as his fingers squeezed. He leaned so close I could feel his breath in my face. I gripped his forearms and tried to scratch. I kicked him, but he didn’t even flinch.
He only sneered as he squeezed tighter. I coughed, gasping for air, but feeling none. All I could think was, I’ve been so stupid.
When the room started to go dark, he turned my body again and shoved me against the wall, holding my wrists behind me. I heard the rustling of fabric, felt him fumbling with something against my hands, and then my wrists stung as they were cinched together.
His hand returned to my neck, moving my hair away from my face. I struggled to free my hands, but whatever he used was holding them fast. The more I struggled, the more they hurt.
Remy pushed his forearm into my back, still gripping my neck, and spoke close to my ear. “I’m going to sit you down now and get something from the hall.” He held a hunting knife by my cheek and said, “Are you going to give me any more trouble?”
I swallowed hard, feeling my heart pounding as he leaned farther into me. “No,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Good.” He shoved me down into the chair at the table.
I tried to pry my wrists apart as he stepped into the hallway. He must have used a zip-tie, because it wouldn’t budge. I stopped when he came back into the kitchen and a shiver went through me.
He held an old red gas can by his hip, the hunting knife in his other hand.
I looked around the room, but there was nothing to help me. “Please, don’t do this.”
He unscrewed the cap on the gas can and slung it to his side as he walked toward me.
“They’ll know it’s you,” I said. “You can’t get away.”
He chuckled as my eyes began to water. The smell of the gasoline filled the air between us, making me gag. “It’s easy to disappear,” he said.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He stared at me, tossing the gas can into the corner. A stream of liquid puddled under it on the floor.
“Your brother,” I said.
He jerked his head toward me, pointing the knife. “Don’t,” he said.
“I know you blame Jack. He told me what happened.”
He had me out of the chair and against the wall in an instant. His hand was around my throat, his body pressing hard against me.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath, but he only squeezed tighter, his thumbs biting my skin.
“You don’t know shit,” he said, his face inches from mine.
My vision narrowed as darkness seeped in from the sides of the room. The edges of his face blurred. I tried to twist my body away, but his grip was too tight. His eyes burned into mine. My chest throbbed.
There was a crash, and Remy’s hand went limp. I slid down the wall, falling into a heap on the floor. I coughed, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. The floorboards were cool against my face, the sting of gasoline sharp. There was a scuffle, a banging sound, and when I looked up, I saw Jack slamming Remy’s head against the counter by the sink. Remy’s hands flailed behind him, but Jack shoved his face into the porcelain once more.
Remy’s body went limp, and Jack pushed him to the floor.
His face lay a few feet from mine, his eyes closed.
The room started to go dark again, and then Jack was on his knees by my side, helping me to sit up. “Enza, can you hear me? Are you OK?” He was still wearing his turnouts, covered in soot and ash. His white shirt was streaked with blood.
I nodded, still coughing. My throat felt swollen shut.
He looked me over. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” His hands drifted over my body as he checked for wounds.
I shook my head, still unable to speak.
He held my face in his hands and kissed me on the forehead. He smelled like a campfire. “I thought I was too late,” he whispered. “Just sit tight.” He held me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, and right then, those arms felt like the only things holding me together. I shivered as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. He gave the police the address, said he’d wounded an intruder and then hung up.
I looked over his shoulder at Remy, still lying motionless in the corner. I wound my arms around Jack’s waist and leaned my head against his neck.
~~~~
Police sirens pierced the air outside. The sound of boots echoed in the hallway, and Jack yelled, “In here!”
Andre and his partner slipped into the kitchen, pistols raised. Footsteps moved quickly through the rest of the house.
“It’s just him,” Jack said to Andre, nodding toward Remy, who still lay unmoving in the corner.
Jack stood, helping me to my feet. Andre walked over to Remy and kicked his foot until he grumbled.
“Wake up, Broussard,” Andre said, his voice as calm as ever. “It’s time to take you to your new home.”
Remy grunted, struggling to get up. He had an ugly bruise forming around one eye. The other was swollen shut. Blood trickled down his cheek into the collar of his shirt. I started trembling again as he came to.
“Might as well stay down there,” Andre told him. “Just turn over on your belly.”
Remy glared at me with a fury that made me want to beat him back into the floor. I took a step toward him, but Jack swept his arm around me and steered me to the back of the house.
“Hey,” I said. “Let me go.”
Andre cuffed Remy’s hands behind his back, then pulled him up from the floor.
“Shhh,” Jack said, leading me to his bedroom. “You’ve seen enough of him
tonight, don’t you think?”
“He attacked me!” I yelled, but the words sounded like a whisper.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and held me in place. “I know, cher. And I very nearly killed him for it.” His eyes were wide. “Let Andre take it from here.”
I slumped down on the bed, shaking with rage. Jack sat next to me and put one arm around my shoulders, drawing me into him.
“I was so stupid,” I said. “I should have gone straight over to Josie’s, and this wouldn’t have happened.”
He sighed, stroking my hair. “This is not your fault.”
Maybe, I thought, but I’d certainly given him the perfect opportunity. I heard scuffling outside the room and caught sight of Andre shoving Remy down the hall and out the front door.
“How did you know to come home?” I asked.
“Josie called and said you hadn’t made it over yet. She couldn’t get you on the phone and got worried.”
“Remy said there was a big fire in a warehouse, that you were in it.”
“Yeah, it was a bad one, but we were OK. When I got out, I got Josie’s message. So I came over.”
I felt another wave of nausea. If it wasn’t for Josie, I would have been the one bleeding on the floor.
“He set that fire,” I told Jack. “He admitted it. And the one here too.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “He’s going away for a long time.”
Andre knocked on the doorframe. “Enza, I know this is a terrible night, but I need to ask you a few questions.”
“It’s fine,” I said, brushing tears from my eyes. I sat up straighter, and Jack took my hand in his, sliding his thumb along my palm.
“The paramedics will be here soon, but before they get here, can you tell me exactly what happened?”
He wrote down everything in a small notebook, nodding each time I answered one of his questions. Jack’s arm tensed around me as I described the broken door pane, the way I tried to talk to him, the way he shoved me against the wall.
Jack brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles.
I squeezed his hand as Andre stepped aside to let the paramedics in.
“Thanks, Enza,” Andre said. “I’ll get the rest from you later.”
~~~~
We spent the night at Buck and Josie’s even though it meant waking them around midnight. Jack called to let them know what had happened, and Josie insisted.
Josie gave me a big hug when we got to the door. “Honey, I know you just want to go straight to bed, so we’ve got your room all set. You sleep tight, and we’ll see you at the breakfast table.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t say that enough times. You saved my life tonight.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, grabbing my hands in hers. “We’re just so glad you’re all right.”
“It’s a good thing they arrested that jackass,” Buck said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Because I’d like nothing more than to go over there and break him in two.”
Jack nodded, his face darkening. “Andre will take care of him.”
“Not the way I would,” Buck said.
Jack slipped his hand to the small of my back and led me toward the stairs. “Good night,” he said to them. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
Upstairs, Josie had just made up one room—the larger one I’d stayed in before. She’d turned down the sheets and left a lamp on.
“Guess she’s onto us,” Jack said.
I smiled weakly as he walked across the hall and flipped on the light in the other bedroom.
“Hey,” I said, following him to the hall. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll sleep in here.”
“Don’t,” I said, taking his hand. “Stay with me.” I led him back into the room and shut the door.
“I figured you’d want some space after this morning,” he said. “After everything.”
I slid my jeans off and climbed into bed. He stared at me for a long moment, then unbuttoned his shirt and stripped out of his jeans. He eased into bed next to me and turned to face me.
“I was scared to death tonight,” he said, holding my hand in his.
“Me too. I thought that was the end.”
“I could have killed the guy, Enza. For a minute I thought I had.”
“I know.”
“The thought that he’d hurt you—”
“I know.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled myself tight against his chest.
His body heaved with a deep sigh. “I love you,” he said. “I know you think it’s too fast and too soon and too everything, but—”
“I’m staying,” I said, cutting him off.
“What?” he said, shifting so he could look me in the eye.
“I’m keeping Vergie’s house. I don’t want to leave, either.”
His brow wrinkled. “Just like that?”
“I love you too.”
He smiled, kissing me lightly on the lips, just as he had that first time when we were all tangled up in the living room.
“I tried to tell you earlier today,” I said. “But you were too busy freezing me out.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’. It’s only because you’d broken my heart.”
“Well, then.”
“It’s OK,” he said. “It’s healing up nicely.”
I kissed him on the neck, and he sighed, folding me in his arms.
After a while he said, “Not that I’m not delighted to hear your revelation, but what about your father and the business?”
“I’ll find a way to work it out. I could sell my house in North Carolina and pay him back. I could go out on my own and flip houses down here.”
“Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking.”
“I had a lot of time to mull things over while you were giving me the cold shoulder.”
He slid his finger along my ribs, tickling me as he held me tight against him. “At least it made you come to your senses.”
I laughed, wriggling against him until he stopped and let me go. I loved that he could still make me laugh, even on a day like today.
He looked at me, his eyes wide in the dim light.
“What?” I said.
“I absolutely love making you laugh in bed.”
He slid his fingers in my hair and kissed me, pinching my lips with his teeth so that my whole body tingled.
“I love that you can,” I said.
Then he looked me in the eye. “There’s one more very important question I have to ask you,” he said.
“What’s that?”
He raised one eyebrow and said, “Are you still kicking me out of my house?”
“Are you kidding? What landlady kicks out a perfectly good handyman and cook?”
He grinned, kissing my neck, scratching me with his beard until I laughed and squirmed in his grip, though being out of his reach was the last thing I wanted.
“I’ll happily fix anything for you, cher. Leaky pipes, missing tiles, jambalaya, you name it.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“Absolutely.”
He stilled, tightening his arms around me, and lay his head against my neck. I felt myself finally relax as he kissed my shoulder and whispered, “I’m glad you’re staying. I don’t think I could stand to watch you leave.”
I laced my fingers in his as I closed my eyes, listening to him whisper in the dark. My life was about to get a lot more complicated, but this thing with Jack was starting to feel simple after all.
I wanted to be with him. All the time. It didn’t get much simpler than that.
Chapter 25
Four weeks later, I had a new living room. Buck had put up drywall, built a jig to cut crown molding to match what was original to the house, and installed a new set of built-in bookcases to replace the ones damaged by the fire. He and Josie had insisted on helping me with all of it, from installing the new heart pine flooring to painting the walls and ceiling. They’d be
en over almost every day for two weeks, even making final repairs after I’d had the new sofa and chairs delivered.
Today, they’d called to say they had one more quick addition to make to the room. I put some coffee on, and not long after, Bella started barking and ran to the front door.
She wagged her stumpy tail at me when I got there. She liked me now that I wasn’t leaving her herd.
Josie was standing on the porch with a vase of lilies and a bottle of bourbon.
“Hi, hon. We brought you a little housewarming present.”
“Well, thank you,” I said, taking both from her hands.
She smiled and said, “Your real present’s in the truck. Wait right there.”
I put the flowers and the bourbon in the kitchen, and when I went back to the porch, Buck and Josie were carrying a coffee table up the walk. I grabbed the middle as they barreled through the door and into the living room. We set it down in front of the couch and stepped back.
“This is lovely,” I said.
“Buck wanted to make you something special,” Josie said. “And he knew you had a particular style in mind.”
“You made this?” The table reminded me of the Mission style: sleek and elegant, but rustic. The top was made of slender boards held together with butterfly joints. The boards had been stained, but still had slight variation in the color and a smattering of scars. I ran my fingers over the surface. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”
“Tell her the rest,” Josie said, nudging him in the ribs.
“I used some of the original floorboards from this room,” he said. “The ones that weren’t damaged too bad. I hope that’s OK. I know you like to salvage too.”
“Oh, wow,” I said.
Buck smiled, resting his hands on his hips.
I startled him with a big hug, and he chuckled.
“I think she likes it,” Josie said.
“I love it,” I said, hugging her too.
“We’re so glad you’re staying,” Josie said. “But then, I knew you would.” She winked, and Buck shook his head.
“I haven’t seen Jack this happy in his entire life,” she added.
Bayou My Love: A Novel Page 28
