Bourbon Street Royalty: Jaded Series, Book Two (3 page)

Baby stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. The muggy night air was better than the stale cigarette smoke in the club. She glanced toward the spot on the sidewalk where Lucky used to park his motorcycle. Her heart sank into her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the way it felt to have her arms coiled around his waist as the two of them roared down the interstate heading out of New Orleans, dreaming of a life together, unlimited possibilities. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she had gone all in and had finally beaten the odds.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

A faint moan caught her attention. Baby Jade whipped her head around. The sound was barely audible, but it was there. Bourbon Street was full of people, mostly tourists, filling the sidewalks and street, making it difficult to figure out where the groaning was coming from.

She followed the muffled cries around the corner until she almost tripped over what looked like a pile of old blankets.

“Ooh … ”

A shriek from under the pile made her flinch. Her pulse raced, and her weak legs almost gave out as she knelt down to the ground. Her trembling fingers gripped the dingy blanket and slowly pulled it back, revealing a battered, naked woman.

The girl whimpered and tried to shield herself, but winced louder as she attempted to lift her mangled arms. Her bright purple face was swollen, and dried blood had crusted in the corners of her shattered mouth. Baby Jade gently peeled the matted hair from the girl’s face.

Lolli.

Baby’s heart hammered against her chest. Blood surged to her head, flooding her ears. “Hold, on Lolli. I’m gonna get help.”

As she tried to stand, a quivering hand reached for her. Lolli tried to speak, but the garbled words only made a loud, groaning sound. She attempted to shake her head and her face twisted from the pain.

It was times like this when Baby Jade kicked herself for not keeping minutes on her crappy cell phone.

“It’s ok. Shh, try not to move. I’m not going anywhere.” Baby searched the alley, looking for help. Just as she got ready to holler out, a shadowy figure circled from the backside of the bar. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she tried to make out the dark figure. By the massive size, she could make out that it was a male.

Baby blindly reached around on the ground. When she found a glass bottle, she gripped the neck and held the bottle over her head, ready to strike. As the man approached, his pace quickened.

“Hey, need some help?”

He scrambled to her side, and she quickly realized it was the mystery man from inside the club. She dropped the bottle and tried to steady her breathing.

“I’ve got to get her to the hospital. She’s been beaten, and only God knows what else. Shit! Call an ambulance or something!”

His gaze fell on Lolli, examining the damage. “There’s no time. I’ll get my car.”

Before Baby could protest, the man had disappeared down the dark alley. She heard the thunderous roar of his 5.0L Coyote engine. A black, Roush Mustang pulled up beside her, and the man jumped out. He stepped in to scoop up Lolli’s broken body.

Baby didn’t know whether she should trust him or not, but at this point, didn’t feel as if she had a choice. She ran to the car and fumbled for the button. She moved the front seat forward and climbed in the back. The man placed Lolli in the back seat. Baby cradled her head carefully in her lap, wiping the stray tears from the poor girl’s battered face.

They pulled up to the emergency room entrance at Tulane Medical Plaza where the man carried Lolli inside, quickly getting the attention of the staff. Baby tried not to focus on how, only a few months earlier, she almost died in the very same building. Even worse, she wished she had.

Old demons gripped her insides and Baby backed up against the wall to keep from falling. Her vision blurred. She tried to make out the man as he finished talking to the nurses and made his way over to her.

“Are you ok? You don’t look so good.”

The fuzziness in her head traveled to her tummy. She attempted to push herself from the wall, but stumbled, right into the man’s arms. He caught her and guided her to a row of chairs along the waiting room wall. Leaning forward, she placed her head between her knees trying to catch her breath.

The image of the operating room flashed through her mind. Bits and pieces of the night her life had changed forever saturated her brain. The visions were too much. She collapsed, falling to the man’s side.

He held her close, not saying a word.

CHAPTER FOUR

Lucky

“Come on, man. You need to go out tonight. Sandy’s been asking Denise about you all damn day.”

Lucky glanced from his coworker, Calvin, over to the payment counter where Denise was gabbing with her friend. Sandy had brought her car in complaining about a noise that Lucky had yet to hear, even after an hour of diagnostic testing.

“She’s not my type, man.”

Calvin scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me? Since when is hot and easy not your type?”

Lucky had known him for years, ever since the first time he left New Orleans and ended up in Longview working a short shutdown inside the East Texas Chemical plant.

“Oh, I’m all about hot. It’s the easy part that I have a problem with. That’s some ugly shit, man.”

Both women giggled from the corner. Calvin looked at Lucky and wagged his eyebrows. “You know she’s a sure thing.”

“Yeah, for me or for someone else. I don’t think it really matters to her.”

His friend snickered. “Yeah, I bet you got that right.”

Lucky picked up a six-pack of Shiner and headed back to his cheap motel room. He took a quick shower, all the while fighting the urge to head to the bar. He was itching for a good card game, but it wasn’t worth it to have to fight Sandy off all fucking night.

He tried to occupy his mind with a football game, but like clockwork, his thoughts were rooted on Baby Jade. He wondered what she was doing at that very moment, at any moment. Was she safe? Was she healing? Physically? Emotionally? Did she ache for him as he did her? Did she dream of him every time she closed her eyes? Did she drink herself into a stupor, or worse, just so she could see his face or feel his touch?

The mind games fucked with his head every night as he came to the same conclusion. Baby Jade hated him, and rightfully so. Hell, he hated himself.

She deserved better. She deserved more, and the only thing he had left to offer her was to stay the fuck away. To leave her alone and let her move on without him. He had come to terms with his fate, but she still had a chance at a life, at scraping together an ounce of happiness.

Lucky finished off the six-pack in record time and toyed with the idea of running out for more when his cell phone rang. Startled, he jumped. He never got phone calls unless they were about a job. His mother tried occasionally, but he had nothing to say to her or anyone else in his family.

He decided to answer since the number came up restricted and he had been waiting to hear back from a foreman about a job up north.

“Hello?”

“James? Son, it’s your mother.”

Shit
! Lucky paced the room, agitated with himself for answering. “What is it, mother?”

“That’s how you greet me after all this time? I’ve been trying to find you for weeks!” Her curt tone was rude and condescending.

“Mother, I don’t have it in me for another knock down drag out. Get to the point.”

“Fine, you need to come home immediately.”

He chuckled. “You know that’s not gonna happen.”

“It’s your father,” she said, her voice cracking. “Your father passed away, James.”

Lucky sat on the edge of the bed. The room started spinning, and a heaviness invaded his aching chest.

“James, are you there?”

“Yes, mother.” Lucky gulped for air. “What happened?”

“They said he suffered from an aneurism. He was on the golf course one minute and gone the next.”

A pang in his heart throbbed at the weepiness in his mother’s typically cold voice.

“When?” He immediately started plotting how he would rush back for the funeral. He and his family were at odds, but they were still blood, even if the thought of heading back to New Orleans made him want to hurl.

“Thirteen days ago,” his mother responded.

Lucky shot up from the bed. His neck tightened. His nostrils flared. “What the hell, mother! He’s been dead for two weeks, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Do not speak to me that way, James. I have tried repeatedly to get in touch with you. I’ve even had someone trying to find you, but you don’t stay still long enough.”

His back snapped straight. She was right. He had missed his father’s funeral because of his bullheadedness.

“I’m on my way.”

Lucky threw his measly belongings into his duffle bag and left the motel key on the dresser. His chest burned deep on the inside as he jumped on his Harley.

Destination, New Orleans.

After riding most of the night, Lucky’s stomach constricted as the lights of the Big Easy came into view. His hometown, but not his home. He drove down the familiar streets, fighting the impulse to head straight to Baby Jade’s apartment. He didn’t even know if she still lived there, but Ma’Linn would know.

Instead, he headed to the Garden District. The historical area was known for being beautiful, but he found it obnoxious. He never liked being in the wealthy spotlight. He tried to sever his Gauthier ties, and every time he thought he had made a clean break, some fucked up situation relentlessly dragged him back kicking and screaming.

He rounded the corner, spotting the monstrosity of his childhood home made his muscles twitch. Fancy cars lined the narrow street. There were even more behind the ornate iron gates. He punched the code on the gate and zipped in and out of the trail of vehicles. He parked his bike right in front of the house, catching the attention of everyone inside.

Asshats
.

He climbed off and stretched his arms behind his back. It had been a long-ass ride since he only stopped for gas. However, he knew the long haul was only beginning.

“James.” Tilly Gauthier stood on the elaborate front porch. The room full of wide eyes darted between the two of them. His mother’s brown hair was tightly pulled back into a twisted bun at the nape of her neck. Her tall, thin frame appeared even more frail than usual. Her impeccable makeup job couldn’t hide the black bags settling under her dull eyes. She was drained, and it was taking an obvious toll.

“Mother.”

“Do you have to park that thing on the lawn? We just had landscaping work done.” She waved her slender arm toward his bike.

“Not now mother. We can argue later. What are all these people doing here?” He looked around at all of the men and women dressed in business suits, who had quickly tried to busy themselves by scanning papers and spouting off orders on their cell phones.

“It’s just business. Loose ends that I’m trying to tie up. Come in and let Joyce get you some sweet tea.” Tilly enjoyed playing the martyr, doing it all, when she actually had someone who did everything for her.

“Mother, I can get my own drink. Any beer in the house?”

“At this hour?” She twisted her face into a disapproving, but not surprised frown.

“Of course we do,” Joyce said, stepping out to the side of her friend and boss. “The boy’s had a long ride. A cold beer won’t hurt anything.”

“Really?” Tilly shot a death stare at Joyce, not that she had ever really been upset with her oldest friend. “Do you have to encourage him?”

“Humph,” Joyce grunted and opened her arms to Lucky, pulling him into a big embrace.

He walked past his mother, skimming his lips across her expectant cheek. “Yes, at this hour.”

Tilly quickly dismissed Joyce and followed Lucky into the kitchen, where he opened the fridge and searched for a beer. His heart sank when he realized there were only a few bottles of Abita Amber. His father’s beer. He considered passing, but quickly changed his mind at the sight of his mother tapping her long, manicured fingernails on the granite countertop.

He closed his eyes and guzzled half the bottle. The memories of sneaking his father’s beer when he was a teenager sent his stomach into his throat.

Lucky leaned against the wall and sighed. “Why did you call me home mother? If you need someone to help you clean out the house, you can call a moving service.”

He regretted the words as soon as he saw the way his mother cringed.

“Do you have to be so rude, James?”

“Ok, truce. So fess up. What’s the deal?” He took another long swig.

Tilly marched across the room, craning her head outside the door, glancing in both directions. She quietly closed the door and rushed back to Lucky’s side.

“It’s time, James,” she whispered.

“Time for what?”

She placed her finger to her lips, shushing him. “Everyone here worked for Art Flanagan and your father. When Art committed suicide, the vultures started to circle, but your father quickly put a stop to it. Now that he’s gone, I can see it starting again. They’re planning a takeover at Gauthier. I just know it!”