Bourbon Street Royalty: Jaded Series, Book Two (20 page)

She dabbed a drop of jasmine oil between her boobs, behind each ear, and along both wrists before strolling into the main hall. She scanned the packed room. An endless sea of hungry men was already knee deep in the eye candy on stage. Locals, regulars, and tourists. Glancing toward the DJ booth, she was surprised to find it empty. The track was on a loop, but no one would notice unless they had heard it a million times like she had.

The bartender scrambled behind the bar while arguing with an impatient shot girl.

Where the hell was Mickey?

Barbie was on stage, leaving Jewella planted on her corner barstool, leaning against the wall. Baby sashayed across the room, making sure to flash a sexy smile and engage the customers. All the while, her insides pitched. Her usual survival tactics weren’t working tonight. The mediocre music was distracting and an absentee Mickey was a real mind fuck.

Baby slipped around the corner toward Mickey’s office to let him know she was ready for her shift, but came to an abrupt halt.

Stationed directly outside of his office door stood a massive, brick wall. The man was easily over six-five and nothing but solid muscle. His eyes focused forward, staring into the hallway ahead. He clasped his gigantic hands together in front of him. The black suit and shiny shoes stuck out like a whore in church.

He turned to face Baby as she casually approached.

“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t let you go in there.”

“It’s ok. I just need to let my boss know I’m here.”

He widened his stance. “It’ll have to wait, ma’am.”

“Come on. He’s gonna rip me a new one if I don’t do what I’m told. You wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, would you?”

The man was not amused by her juvenile strategy. He never moved. He stared at her until she relented.

“Fine, it can wait.” Baby backed away before disappearing back into the main room of the crowded club. She had never seen the man before, and he didn’t appear to be one of Slade’s meth-head goons. She knew all of the signs of being employed by Slade. Shaking, dilated eyes, scratching, nipping at your lips and cheeks. He was notorious for paying his henchmen with dope. Not that he didn’t have the money. He called it the ‘loyalty’ program. Once he got you hooked, you were stuck. You would do whatever he wanted, as long as it got you to that next paycheck.

This guy was definitely not hooked on Slade’s payroll. Distracted, she smiled, but didn’t stop to chat. She panicked at the thought of having to dance without her set music. Her insides somersaulted.

Anxiety seeped out from deep within her gut. Something sinister stirred. It was going down, and it was going to be major.

She struggled, but made it through the night without any breakdowns. She didn’t miss her daily throw up sessions in the drab bathroom. The episodes had disappeared since Lucky had come back into the picture. Her set music was some crappy pop remix, but she did what she always did and pulled it off while racking in the dollar bills. After seven lap dances, she had managed to make some decent pocket change for the night.

With only a few minutes left on the clock, Baby glanced around the room. Still no sign of Mickey. Jewella must not have been allowed to go in the office either because she was passed smooth out at the bar. The only person she hadn’t seen in a while was Willow. She hoped the girl had finally gotten a clue and bolted.

As Baby was planning to do the same, she heard a commotion coming from the hallway. Her pulse quickened as she attempted to appear nonchalant. Mickey walked out first, with Slade in tow. He wasn’t in his usual muscle head attire. Tonight he wore a pair of gray slacks and a fancy button-down shirt with a gray blazer.

What the hell
?

Slade shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. Baby would give anything to be a fly on the wall. Mickey was silent and sneering like the Cheshire cat. She couldn’t make out who they were talking to, but a man with the same build as the security guy stepped out into the hallway and did a quick scan of the area before moving to the side.

Her breath stalled in her throat. She recognized the man’s face. A couple of years ago, his face had been plastered all over the state during elections. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly who he was, but he was definitely on a different playing field than Mickey and Slade. The election had been highly publicized. Something about dirty, underhanded tactics.

The last person to walk out of the room made her weak in the knees. The sight of Willow’s fake grin left her nauseous. She knew that smile. It was the combination of fear, being broke as shit, and getting a job done.

Baby wouldn’t wish that smile on anyone.

She clutched the countertop to keep from falling. Blood surged through her body, causing her face to flush. Her heart ached for the broken girl.

One of the men, a bodyguard for the politician Baby assumed, handed Willow a flip phone. She said something, and the suit nodded. The politician grazed her cheek with the back of his hand.

The group of men left out the side door, leaving Mickey to disappear back into his office, slamming the door closed. As everyone scattered, Willow’s smile faded. Her face fell. She scurried past Baby without even a glance. Sadness stirred deep in the young girl’s eyes.

Bile seared Baby’s throat as she fought the urge to snatch Willow up and run. This was some fucked up shit, and it was about to get worse.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Lucky

Lucky’s heart raced as he tailed the black Mustang through the downtown traffic. His gut told him he wouldn’t like where Drew was headed. He gripped the Harley’s handlebars so tight that the blood drained from his stark, white knuckles. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as the car turned down N. Rampart Street. He slowed down as the sports car pulled up to the curb in front of Baby Jade’s apartment.

Once he secured the bike, Lucky jumped off and barreled towards the car. As Drew stepped out, he came up from behind and balled his fists.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lucky bowed his chest, silently begging the man to throw down.

Drew turned. Wide-eyed, his rigid body snapped into a fighting stance. His confused gaze fell on Lucky, and he promptly dropped his fists. “Hey man, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Then you came to the wrong place. She doesn’t want you here.”

Drew lowered his head. “Yeah, I know.”

Lucky pulled his brow together, narrowing his eyes. “You can climb back into your flashy piece of shit and tell Carrie her plan backfired.”

“Carrie?” All of the blood drained from Drew’s face.

Lucky took a weighty step forward, standing toe to toe with his enemy. “Do yourself a favor and don’t try to pull the dipshit card. We both know you’re working for that conniving, backstabbing bitch.”

“Ok, I admit it. I was hired for a job, but that’s not why I’m here. You have to let me talk to her.”

A heaviness filled Lucky’s chest. He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. He would never put Baby in danger, but if he could grab another piece of the puzzle, he had to weigh out the risks.

“You’re not talking to her alone. And the first sign I see that she’s scared or uncomfortable, you leave on your own, or you won’t like the alternative. Got it?”

Drew nodded. “Deal.”

“Stay here.” Lucky headed up to the door, leaving Drew leaning against his car.

He knocked, but there was no answer, prompting him to bang louder.

Ma’Linn pulled back her kitchen curtain and poked her head through the dingy piece of cloth. “Boy, dat no way to be callin’ on a lady.”

“Damn, you scared the shit out of me. How you doing?”

“Not bad, don’t reck’in. Better t’an dat poor boy out t’ere on dat road.”

Lucky glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah, guess Baby’s filled you in on all the crazy bullshit. Any word on Phillipe?”

Her eyes danced, even through the heavy weariness. “Yep, my boy’s alive ‘n still in da city.”

“Shit, that’s awesome. So glad to hear it. You saw him? He’s safe?”

“Naw, our girl did. I let her tell ya’ all ‘bout it.”

He moved in closer, careful not to step on the ashes surrounding her altar. Only in New Orleans can a person get away with burning black candles on their stoop and be considered normal. Feathers and bones surrounded the flaming stick of wax. The scent of burning spices billowed out from the open window. It was a fucked up situation for any mother.

“Maybe when we figure out what’s going on with Rozalie, it’ll help flush out some information. Speaking of which, shouldn’t she be home by now?” he jerked his head toward Baby’s apartment.

“Yeah, dat’s why I be waitin’ up. Dat girl goin’ be da death of me.” She gave a hearty chuckle.

Lucky didn’t know the old woman well, but even he could pick up on her nervous undertone. “She does have that effect on most people. It’s a good thing we’re up for the challenge.”

“Dat’s true.”

“Ok, I’m gonna go wait by the car. I don’t want Mr. Slick down there to spot her first.”

“Sound good. Boy, yo take care our girl, now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tapped the windowsill and reminded her to lock up before heading back to the curb. “She’s not home yet.”

Drew glanced up and down the street. “Maybe we should go look for her.”

Lucky chuckled. “If anyone’s going to look for her, it’ll be me, not we. I’m gonna give her a few more minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

There was no way he was leaving this man alone at Baby’s apartment. He didn’t know if he was being used as a pawn or not, but he sure as shit wasn’t letting him out of his sight.

He watched the man start to pace.

“Look, I’m gonna be there when you talk to her anyway. You have something to share, now’s the time. Consider yourself lucky that I’m willing to listen at all.”

Drew leveled his gaze. “Yeah, I get it. You can lay off the Neanderthal bullshit or we’re done here.”

He glared at Drew, searching his face. If he wanted to hurt Baby Jade, he wouldn’t have let Lucky see him here. He decided to give him a chance, folding his arms across his chest. His heart hammering underneath.

“Fine, spill.”

He watched Drew close his eyes and take in a deep breath. After a few seconds, he continued. “Yes, I was hired by Carrie Scott to do a job. I was supposed to get Baby’s mind off of you. I was supposed to get her interested in me and break any ties that she had with you.”

Lucky’s gaze fell to the ground. “That doesn’t make any sense. She’d have to know there’s no chance in hell of the two of us getting together. What was the point?”

“I wasn’t told. It’s clear the plan didn’t work. I don’t think Carrie took into consideration your father’s death or your mother asking you to come back home.”

He snickered. “I’m sure that wasn’t in anyone’s plan.”

“Yeah, sorry about your old man. Sounds like you and Baby both have had your fair share of bullshit to deal with.”

Lucky didn’t want the man’s pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He was tired of chasing after fucking ghosts and coming up empty handed. He didn’t respond, allowing Drew to continue.

“She needed to get Baby out of the picture, and she hired me to do it.”

Lucky arched his eyebrows. “So, you’re one of
those
.” The air quotes indicated his already obvious gigolo innuendo.

“Not hardly. I’m a private investigator. I’ve done a few jobs for Ms. Scott over the years. Nothing major, nothing like this. When this came up, I thought it would be something quick and easy. Cute girl hung up on a drifting, rich, wannabe biker? The check pretty much wrote itself.”

His words made Lucky’s pulse race. Anxious, he tugged on his beard. “Watch it.”

Drew rolled his eyes. “She didn’t divulge all the details, but once you came home, she lost her shit. Her plan fell apart, and she started obsessing. I was supposed to follow Baby around and report back to Carrie each night. It was pretty standard until she wanted me to ransack Baby’s apartment, which I didn’t do. She also wanted me to find some files in your old man’s office. I refused, mostly because it would have meant a lot of jail time if I had gotten caught, so she did it herself.” He shoved his hands into his jeans and rolled his neck. “Carrie finally told me that my contract had been bought, and I would be receiving a large sum of money to finally get Baby out of the picture. Now, before you go all caveman and shit, there’s no way I would ever lay a hand on her, not an unwanted hand anyway. I told Carrie I didn’t sign up for that shit. She laughed it off and said it wasn’t what I was thinking. They wanted me to fuck with her and her mom. To do whatever possible to drive a wedge between you two and get Baby out of the picture. I’m dragging my feet, but it’s clear that they mean business. They’re not going to stop. Not until she’s gone.”

Lucky mindlessly stroked his beard. His head reeling from the flood of information. “I may not know who’s heading up this witch hunt, but if it’s who I think it is, he’s a nasty son of a bitch.”

Drew rocked back on his heels and rested against the car. Lucky didn’t like the way the asshole appeared so at ease around him. This wasn’t a fucking bromance. They weren’t sharing beers and smoking cigars. He wouldn’t forget that he was hired to get him out of Baby’s life. He could claim it was just a job, but he saw the way Drew leered at Baby. That shit was etched on his brain. He would not forget, and this shit right here was just a means to an end. He surveyed the man as he continued spilling his guts.