No Limits (19 page)

It was when she looked from Simon to King that she realized she didn’t need to warn him of a thing. He knew what was coming. He’d been waiting. He was ready. Being here was his choice, one alpha wolf calling out another, one defending his territory from a challenger with the power to take it away.

Simon hadn’t taken three steps before she opened her door. She saw him hesitate, but he didn’t turn or look back. She was on her own, and for the first time wondered if she was being reckless, if she should be scared.

She was out of her element. A stranger in a strange land. There were rules here, unspoken laws she had no idea existed. One wrong step and she might find herself in over her head, water rushing up to swallow her whole….

She loved it. The adrenaline.

The untamed beat of her heart.

She had never felt more alive.

“Kingdom,” Simon said when he was four feet from the porch.

The other man pushed his body away from the steps and rolled to his feet, stepping down so they were on even ground. “Simon.”

Micky wished for a video recorder, a phone with a digital camera; even a Polaroid would do. She wanted to capture the bravado that she knew in her heart wasn’t a show but the truth of each man. They were so similar in size, in stance, Simon a hair tal
l
er, King ropier, rangy. Simon darker. King bronzed.

These two were the ones who deserved a billboard on East Houston Street. The thought of women unable to pass without shopping…what the cousins could do for Ferrer’s line of male fragrances…The heart of Micky’s creative genius began to race.

“I didn’t know you knew the little lady here, cuz,” King said, inclining his head toward her, offering her a wink. “Nice to see you again, Michelina.”

Micky’s, “Back atcha, Kingdom,” earned her a scowl from Simon, who told his cousin,

“I’ve known her about as long as you have, cuz.”

“Are you keeping her hostage here, or feeding her bread and water or something?

Because when I last saw her, she wasn’t lookin’ this haggard and worn. Should treat a gorgeous woman better than that, Simon.”

“I’ve been through a lot since you last saw me.” She opened her mouth again to explain about Lisa and the accident but only got as far as holding up her bandaged arm before Simon intervened.

“She’s fine. She needs to get her packages out of the truck—”

“I’ll be happy to get them for her,” King cut him off to say as he moved toward her. Simon blocked him before he took a second step. “She can get them herself.”

Micky looked from one Neanderthal to the other. Neither one spared a glance for her. This time their posturing was too macho-macho man for her taste. Whatever issues had kept them at odds al
l
these years, they could duke it out without using her as another point of conflict.

She moved to stand between them and said to Simon, “I can get them myself, but I’m going to let you do that,” then turned to King and said, “If not for your cousin, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t even be alive to tell you that I don’t give a flying fig what you think about the way I look.”

And then she walked up the steps and let the screen door slam in punctuation behind her.

Twenty-six

A t that moment, Simon couldn’t really care about hurting Micky’s feelings, but he was more than damn glad she had taken herself out of the way. He didn’t know his cousin anymore. He’d often thought he’d never known him at al
l
. But he did know he wouldn’t be able to give his ful
l
attention to King with Micky around.

“She said you saved her life.”

Simon gave a single nod.

“She get into some kind of trouble after leaving Red’s?”

“She did.” He understood King’s curiosity. Micky wasn’t from around here. She didn’t fit in. But he didn’t have to like the other man’s attention.

“And you just happened along to save her.”

“She saved herself, but I was here when she needed me to be.”

King gave that some consideration before asking, “What was she doing here?”

“What business is that of yours?”

“Did you know her already? Before you saved her life?”

Enough. Micky was off-limits. Simon crossed his arms and faced his cousin directly.

“Why are you here, King? Because if it’s to talk about Micky, you can go.”

“Micky, huh? Not Ms. Ferrer? Or Michelina?” King’s mouth twisted into a nasty grin.

“Staking your claim, cuz? Is that it?”

Simon took a step toward the porch. “Go home, King. This isn’t getting either of us anywhere.”

“You say that like we’ve got somewhere to go.”

Simon kept walking, King calling after him, “What’s going on with Le Hasard?”

Simon stopped, glanced back, hid the sense of loss he felt behind disinterest. “You’re the last person I expected to care.”

“I don’t care,” King said, then shrugged. “I’m just asking.”

“If anyone should be asking questions, it’s me. Not you.”

King flung out both arms. “Then ask. It’s not like I’ve never been wil
l
ing to talk. You’re the one who insisted we go through the lawyers for everything. Twenty years paying that retainer? I can see how that would turn your puss sour when you could’ve just picked up the phone. Of course, that wouldn’t have done a lot of good considering how many times my service has been cut for nonpayment.”

That did it. Simon walked back down the steps. “You mean the ninety grand I sent you for the wel
l
workover you never did wasn’t enough to pay your phone bill?”

“Is that why we stopped speaking? Because I misappropriated funds for the well?”

Simon laughed humorlessly. “Boo, we stopped speaking long before you stole my money.”

“Oh, right. That happened about the time you stole my land.”

Simon hadn’t been given the deed until his father had been declared dead, seven years after he’d gone missing. “Look back further than that.”

King rolled his eyes. “This can’t be about me making the touchdown that saved our asses from your butterfingers and won us state.”

Yeah. That was it. “I haven’t thought about high school since, oh, high school. I moved on.”

“I hear the army’s good about helping with that.”

“You had the same choice I did.” Simon found himself grinding his jaw. This wasn’t getting them anywhere, but it was pretty much the way he’d seen their reunion going down.

“You’re right. And I chose to stay close to home and keep an eye on the property your parents left to you.”

“Making amends for burning what you could of Le Hasard to the ground?”

“You stil
l
think I set that fire?”

“I know it wasn’t me.”

“We weren’t the only two there that night, boo. You were the one getting your pipes cleaned. You should remember.”

Finally. He’d thought he was the only one not happy with Lorna’s involvement. “What reason could Lorna Savoy have possibly had for setting your house on fire?”

“You tel
l
me. And while you’re thinking up a reason, think up one to explain what she got out of testifying against us.” Then King added when Simon would have stopped him,

“Besides immunity.”

He had honestly put the whole incident behind him when he’d stepped off the bus into boot camp. Whether intended or not, Judge Terrill “Bear” Landry had given Simon the new life he would never have given himself—or recognized that he needed. If not for the choice to enlist or serve time, he would’ve stayed in Bayou Allain, carrying on in his father’s footsteps, working to make a go of the four thousand acres his mother’s family had owned.

The obligation had hung over both him and King, yet King had been the one to come back, while Simon—the sole legal owner of Le Hasard—had paid the taxes and financed the improvements King’s income couldn’t meet.

It should have been the perfect and equitable setup, each cousin doing his part to keep the place in the family. Simon had never examined too closely his need to put what distance he could between himself and his Louisiana roots. So, no. Until coming here to settle the past, he’d never thought about Lorna Savoy’s part in the trial—or in the fire itself.

He looked his cousin in the eyes, saw the tol
l
the years had taken, saw how old King had become while Simon had been doing his own aging from a distance. “You’ve been here all this time. You know her better than I do.”

“Are you asking for my theory?”

Simon nodded, headed back to his truck. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” King said, twisting the top from the longneck Simon offered. He sucked down a quarter of the brew before speaking again. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that Lorna and the judge are stil
l
thick as ticks on a hound?”

Bear Landry was a land man, Lorna a real estate broker. If their association went beyond business, Simon wouldn’t know, but the business connection made perfect sense to him. “Not especially. I’m obviously missing something here.”

King looked at him as if he were daft. “Lorna would never have been as successful as she has without Bear’s help.”

“Okay. And?”

“Why her? He could have chose
n to help out either of the Call
ahan girls. Both were a hell of a lot smarter than Lorna. Or Marie Picard. Her family had connections Bear could’ve used. Even Cindy Robichaux would have made a better assistant. Who could look that girl in the tits and say no?”

Simon didn’t say anything, just waited for King to go on—though he wouldn’t deny his cousin had run a reasonable flag up the pole.

“Think about it. Lorna wasn’t the brightest bulb in her class. The only connections her family had were to some very bad dudes I met in Angola. But she was malleable, and vulnerable, easy to manipulate. With the right clothes, hair, and makeup, she’s hot enough, but it takes a lot of work to get her there.” King took another long drink, wiped his mouth on his wrist.

Interesting. “She would’ve been desperate enough to jump at anything Bear offered.”

“It would’ve been her only ticket to a better life.”

“Kinda hard to believe she wouldn’t have fucked up somewhere along the way, though. If she’s been doing his dirty work all this time.” That was a sticking point for Simon. Like King had said, Lorna wasn’t a
l
l that bright.

“She knows how to do what she’s told. And she knows how to keep quiet.”

Two traits that would make her invaluable to anyone needing a fall guy. “What could she have gained by setting the fire? What could Bear have gained, for that matter?”

King reached for another beer. “The only thing I’ve come up with is that he wanted you and me out of the way. And he promised her the moon if she helped him make it happen.”

It was a decent theory; it mirrored Simon’s own, though neither cousin had come up with a motive. They needed more. “It’s good, but it’s not enough.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve been sitting on my thumbs thinking it through. I’ve had crops to plant and tend and harvest and sell. Equipment to keep running since replacing it’s been out of the question. Then there’s the house I’ve been trying to get finished so I can get out of that goddamn tin can I’ve been baking in all this time. This place doesn’t run itself, and the only manpower I can afford is my own.”

“You ought to consider reducing your rates,” Simon said, tossing his empty bottle toward the burn barrel at the back of the house and reaching for another beer.

“Look, about the money—”

“Did you put any of it into the well? Did you buy new pipe? Arrange for water disposal? Anything at all?”

Beer foamed up the neck of the next bottle King opened. He sucked it down as if it were gold, then shook his head. “I had something come up.”

“A gambling debt? A round-the-world vacation?”

“Sell the land, Simon. Put me off it. Surely that would give you ninety thousand bucks’

worth of pleasure.”

It was hard to believe this man was the boy Simon had grown up with, the one who’d been his best friend, his worst enemy, the one he’d fought with as often as he’d talked sports and girls. Then they’d always found their way back to a common ground. Now he didn’t think they shared anything in common at all. And he couldn’t deny the resulting sad twist in his gut.

He was through here. He’d had al
l
of the past and of his cousin he could take. He’d been screwed over by Lorna Savoy and was getting nowhere figuring out what had happened to Micky, much less Lisa.

He headed for the porch, never looked back. “Good-bye, King.”

“Hey! Can I have the rest of the beer?” King called.

Simon slammed the door on the question.

Twenty-seven

M icky hadn’t been able to hear everything from the second-story window at the back of the house, though she’d given her best effort to eavesdropping. She didn’t move after hearing Simon come in, waiting to see if he was going to seek her out or if he would take out his frustrations by pounding on the porch some more with his hammer. She had no intention of hiding her snoopy nature, or denying her curiosity. In fact, if he did come looking for her, she planned to bombard him with questions about what was going on between him and his cousin. But only another minute or two passed before the kitchen door slammed on his exit and on all her answers.