Cursing under his breath, he followed the sound until he found the phone lying under the pile of clothes she’d discarded last night before falling into bed with him. It wasn’t as if he needed to see or talk to her, but they’d barely been apart these last few days and after a few hours discussing the Ministry, he was more than ready for a dose of his woman. Where was she? And when would she be back? Damn, he supposed he’d have to ask Rolley if he knew.
As he headed back down the corridor Billie’s phone beeped in his hand, signaling a message. Without thinking, he glanced down at the screen and almost dropped it when he read who the message was from.
Lorna—Made any progress?
What the fuck? Made progress about what? What was his mom messaging Billie about? Hadn’t he told her to stay the fuck away from this place? And surely Billie had gotten the message that he didn’t want her to have anything to do with his mother. Anger burned in his chest, but he told himself to calm the hell down. He checked the phone for other messages and let out a sigh of relief when he saw they were all one-way. This wasn’t Lorna’s first message, but it didn’t look like Billie had replied to any of them. That was something.
He took a deep breath and continued into the courtyard. Rolley was dealing with a customer, so he bided his time, running his hands back and forth over the piano keys until the other guy was free.
Then, he tried for friendly. “Hey dude, do you know where Billie is?”
Rolley screwed up his face. “Why should I tell you?”
Travis’s grip tightened on Billie’s phone, but he forced himself to keep calm. He needed answers, not to waste time bickering with this loser. He shrugged, held up the phone and spoke slowly so Rolley could understand. “Because she’s mine, and she left her phone behind and I want to go take it to her.”
“What do you mean she’s yours?”
Travis smirked as he slipped the cell into his pocket. “You want me to spell it out?” Before Rolley could reply he continued, “When two people are attracted to each other they—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Rolley burst out laughing. “She’s playing you, man.”
Travis’s heart went cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Grinning now, Rolley said, “She’s gone to visit your mom. You really think someone like Billie would fall for someone like you? She’s being nice as a favor to Lorna, to try and convince you to make amends.”
“What the hell…?” Travis shook his head, his insides twisting. There was so much wrong with this scenario. Billie didn’t seem the type to use sex to get what she wanted, and no amount of sexual favors would ever bring him to forgive his mother, but his stomach churned at the thought.
“Sorry, man.” Rolley didn’t sound sorry at all. He shrugged and gestured to the gate. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?”
What Travis wanted to do was wipe the smug grin off the hippie artist’s ugly face, but that would only show how bothered he was. And, considering he was the one with Billie between his sheets, he couldn’t quite work out why. Turning his back on the loser, Travis strode out of the gallery and stalked a few blocks down Bourbon Street when he realized he had no idea where Lorna lived. Cursing, he kicked his boot against a crack in the sidewalk and dragged his cell out of his pocket, hoping she was listed. Moments later, he cursed again when he couldn’t find her.
As much as it would pain him to do so, he was about to go inside and demand Rolley tell him the address when he remembered Billie’s cell was still in his pocket. He yanked it out and brought up his mom’s contact details. “Bingo,” he muttered under his breath, as in addition to her phone number he found her address and email. He knew the street on the edge of the Quarter well, and in his current mood it didn’t take him long to walk there.
Pausing a moment in front of the brightly painted Creole cottage, he shook his head as he tried to reconcile this chirpy little house with the dirty rooms they’d rented in dodgy townhouses when he was a kid. Could Lorna truly have changed this much? That thought didn’t get the chance to take root before the door opened and he saw his mom and Billie step onto the front porch. At the sight of them together, his heart turned to ice and he felt a physical pain in his gut as if someone had slammed a fist into him.
Lost in their conversation, neither woman looked his way, and he watched in horror as Lorna patted Billie’s arm before leaning forward and enveloping her in a friendly embrace. They looked a lot closer than Billie had led him to believe.
His breathing quickened and he had to steady himself on the damn fence.
Fuck, this was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. Feelings. They made him weak and he despised them; he hated the way seeing Billie with his mother made him feel. As if someone had stabbed a knife into his chest and twisted. Could Rolley be telling the truth? That Billie had been in collusion with Lorna, trying to soften him, to butter him up so she could bring him around to her way of thinking? That is, to make him believe that Lorna was a changed woman who deserved his forgiveness and the chance to walk back into his life.
Not before hell freezes over.
How would Billie like it if he’d been plotting with her asshole of an ex-husband? He couldn’t imagine she’d be stoked with that kind of betrayal, and neither was he. If they had any kind of future together, Billie needed to cut all ties with his poor excuse for a mother. That was a deal breaker.
Trying to swallow the sour taste in his mouth, he shoved open the ornate steel gate and made his presence known.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said, marching over to Billie, taking hold of her arm and yanking her away from Lorna. He’d caught her red-handed and she didn’t even have the audacity to look sheepish.
“Travis!” She glared at him, her hand immediately rushing to rub the spot where he held her. “What are you doing here?”
He loosened his grip a little but didn’t let go. “What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here? You said you barely knew my…Lorna.”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing over at the street, where a few passersby had slowed. “There’s no need to curse and carry on.”
“I’ll curse as much as I damn well please, and you haven’t answered my question.”
“Maybe if you asked nicely, I would,” she snapped back, pushing every single button in his body.
He sucked in a quick breath. “I don’t know why you’re here, but if you think you’re going to convince me to forgive her,” he thrust a finger in his mom’s direction, “then you’re delusional.”
Billie opened her mouth to say something, but he barreled right over the top of her. “And if you feel the way you say you do about me, then you won’t see Lorna ever again. Understood?”
Billie blinked and then she shook her head, her blond hair flopping into her eyes. “No, that’s not understood. As I’ve told you before, Lorna is a colleague, an important contributor to my gallery. How would you like it if I told you who you could and couldn’t do business with?”
“That’s fucking different.”
“It’s not.” She yanked out of his grasp and slammed her hands on her hips. “My business matters to me, but quite aside from that I want an equal relationship, not a man who thinks he can control me.”
Travis scoffed. “You’re comparing me with your ex?”
Billie shrugged. “If the shoe fits, and right now it most definitely does. I can’t be with a man who thinks he can order me around.”
“Looks like we’re at a standstill, then. Because I can’t be with a woman I can’t trust.”
They stared each other a few long moments as if each waiting for the other to back down, to beg. But Billie didn’t say a word and her lips were one hard line, giving nothing away.
“In that case,” he said eventually, “consider this your eviction notice.”
“What?” Her eyes sparked with disbelief.
Lorna gasped. “No! Travis, please don’t p
unish Billie because of me.”
“Stay the fuck out of this,” he growled, and then spoke again to Billie. “I told you when I arrived I was going to sell the place, and it looks like nothing has changed. I want you to get yourself and your precious art out as soon as you can. Yesterday if possible.”
“You can’t do that! You have to give me proper notice. Please, Travis,” now she sounded like she was begging, “don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to all the people who display their work in my gallery.”
“What? Like her?” He thrust his thumb at Lorna. “Like I give a damn about any of them.”
Billie’s face crumpled, but he ignored the emotions that surged through him—the sympathy, the guilt, the need. He didn’t want to feel so strongly about her when she’d all but thrown his feelings in his face. He wasn’t asking much…just this one thing, and she hadn’t even considering relenting. What he was doing wasn’t exactly legal, but since when had that stopped him from doing anything he wanted? And even if Billie could afford a lawyer, she wouldn’t dare mess with him now that she knew what the Deacons were capable of. His brothers would have no objection to this, since they’d wanted to reclaim the gallery for the clubhouse from the beginning.
That couldn’t happen fast enough. He needed to erase all evidence of Billie from his building, which would hopefully help eradicate her from his mind.
He was more angry at himself than at her—angry that he’d let down his defenses and let go of the hard lessons life had taught him. He’d been well and truly screwed over, and evicting her from the building, from his life, was an act of self-preservation.
Not wanting to be with Billie and Lorna a second longer, he turned in his boots and stormed off back the way he came.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” someone shouted at him as he careened around a corner. Travis didn’t even acknowledge the person, never mind apologize—he was too focused on getting back to the gallery and packing his things.
Rolley was at the piano when he arrived at the gallery, and Travis didn’t make eye contact as he hurried inside. He tried not to look around while he shoved all his belongings back into his bag, nor sniff the air, which was infused with the scent of strawberries, of Billie. Then, he put on his Deacons cut, tugged his bag high on his shoulder and walked next door to The Priory.
—
“I’m so sorry,” Lorna said, her voice shaky as she and Billie watched Travis storm off down the street.
Billie could barely bring herself to look at the woman. She couldn’t help wishing she hadn’t come here today, but she’d wanted to tell Lorna she couldn’t be a go-between for her. Lorna had understood, was overjoyed simply to hear that Travis had found love and was staying in New Orleans. She probably held hope that if he was nearby and living a fulfilled and happy life then maybe in time his heart would soften toward her as well, but Billie guessed after what had just happened right here on her doorstep that any such fantasies were rapidly evaporating.
Until a few moments ago, she’d harbored a similar fantasy because she hadn’t believed Travis could truly embrace the future until he’d made amends with his past. She wouldn’t have pushed him, though. Saxon had tried to control her and the last thing she’d wanted to do was try and change or control Travis. She’d thought he was different—that there was something special between them, more than just mind-blowing sex—but he’d just proved her wrong.
Maybe she was cutting off her nose to spite her face, maybe she’d been unfair considering Travis’s broken past with Lorna, but the insecurities she’d felt with Saxon had raised their ugly heads. If she’d given in to Travis’s demand that she end her business association with Lorna, he’d think he could walk all over her, and no way was she ever entering into that kind of relationship again.
Lorna tried again, this time reaching out and touching Billie’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. But I think I might be able to help you find a new location for the gallery, and you’re always welcome to stay here.”
Not meaning to be harsh, Billie yanked away from Lorna’s touch. Travis had been the last to touch her and however much of a sad case it made her, she didn’t want anyone else to erase the memory of him. Besides, she couldn’t consider the future of the gallery now, not when her heart felt as if someone had poured boiling water over it.
“Thanks,” she managed, “but I can’t think about that at the moment.” And then she turned and fled, Baxter hurrying behind her.
When she’d left the gallery that morning, she’d had a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She’d never felt happier, freer, in her whole life. Now she’d hit rock bottom. Even the magic of New Orleans could do nothing to drag her out of this hole. As she walked back into her once happy place, although it appeared as before, all she felt was emptiness. She didn’t know whether to burst into tears or a tantrum.
Rolley was chatting amicably to a couple of young women, so obviously tourists judging by the Mardi Gras beads that hung around their necks, and something suddenly clicked in her head.
How had Travis known she’d be at Lorna’s place?
Even though he was in the middle of a possible sale, Billie marched right over to Rolley. “We’ve been evicted!” she shouted, gesturing around her, not caring that she was being unprofessional. If Travis had his way, there soon wouldn’t even be a gallery. “All this is over.”
A look of shock flashed across his face and the two women looked to each other, their eyes wide.
“What?” Rolley asked.
“Somehow Travis found me at Lorna’s today. What the fuck do you know about that?”
He blinked at her fury, no doubt taken aback by her swearing. Yes, she’d been hanging around a biker a lot lately and his language had rubbed off on her, but sometimes only curse words got the job done. This felt like one of those times.
Rolley’s eyes darted from side to side like some kind of skittish cat looking for an escape, announcing his guilt loud and clear.
“Rolley?” she demanded.
“I only told him the truth,” he spat. “The biker wanted to know where you were and I told him. I thought he’d be pleased his mom and his girlfriend were getting along so well.”
Billie glared at him, speechless. He knew the bad blood between Travis and Lorna would make Travis anything but happy with such a scenario. But it cut deep that Travis had believed Rolley without question. Although it was the truth, she wished he’d had a little bit of faith and trust in her. Then, none of this might be happening.
“Well, you were wrong,” she whispered, the fight whooshing out of her as reality sunk in and despair overwhelmed her. “And now this is finished.” As she gestured around them, tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed them shut a moment, willing the waterworks away, because they weren’t only for the imminent closure of her gallery and she was scared that if she started bawling about Travis, she’d never be able to stop.
“No.” Rolley shook his head, but Billie turned to look at the confused customers.
“Sorry, ladies, we’re closing early today. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Rolley saw them out, locked the gate and came back to her. “I’ve been thinking, there must be something we can—”
“You too. Go!” she ordered, pointing right back at the gate. She needed to be alone. “I’m going inside to call the other artists, tell them the bad news. Get all your stuff and be gone before I come back out.”
He opened his mouth as if to protest, but she hit him with her best don’t-mess-with-me look and he backed down like a meek little possum. Despite his good looks, his charm, his fun-loving personality and their shared passion for the arts, this was why she’d never felt anything for Rolley. He lacked the backbone she wanted in a lover.
What a mess! She needed a man who would stand up to her, but not one who’d walk all over her. Maybe that really was a fantasy.
Still seething, Billie went back inside, whistling for Baxter to follow her. For a second she conside
red going next door to The Priory and trying to talk sense into Travis, but something held her back.
Was it self-preservation? What little was left of her pride?
No, she wasn’t going to run after him. She wasn’t going to spend her life chasing someone who couldn’t get over himself enough to trust her.
Deciding to begin the arduous task of calling her artists and relaying the bad news, she grabbed her cell off the counter and slumped onto the sofa, immediately wincing in pain.
She bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the slicing feeling of the fresh tattoo coming into contact with the furniture. In the shock of the last hour, she’d forgotten about her trip to a downtown tattoo parlor only hours ago. How stupid and pathetic could she get? Imagine having a guy’s name etched into your butt when you’d barely known him two weeks. But that’s what she’d done.
Travis’s name was engraved in a bold pink font with a tiny Harley-Davidson motorbike identical to the one he rode, identical to the picture she’d sketched, just beneath it.
It had felt so right—as if he was the yin to her yang, the black to her white, the hot to her cold—that she’d gotten carried away by the fairy tale. Maybe because he didn’t look or act like your typical Prince Charming, she’d more easily believed what they had was the real deal. Whatever; she was now a fool with a broken heart and a permanent reminder of her crazy affair on her behind. If only she’d gone to see Lorna first, before getting the tattoo, then maybe Travis wouldn’t have found her there.
But thank God she hadn’t gotten it in a more prominent place. No one would ever see it where it was, except for future lovers.
Something halfway between a laugh and a snort escaped her mouth as she eased herself back off the sofa. Future lovers? As if Saxon and then Travis hadn’t taught her enough about the male of the species. Whatever package they came in, they were all the same, and she didn’t want anything to do with any of them ever again.
Fire Me Up Page 18
