Raw Deal(3)

       
           



       

"I would love to, Savannah. You name the place. This isn't my town."

"Coffee and beignets, then. Café Du Monde, two hours?"

"Works for me. And thank you."

"I'll listen, but I can't promise anything more than that," she said  warningly. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the congregation  begin to break up. She noticed the direction he was looking and glanced  over. "I have to go. If you think Rowan and I were rough on you, you'd  really better get out of here before my mother sees you."

Now Zane was tugging at him in earnest. Without another word, Savannah  turned to go back to her family. Zane practically had to drag Mike away  from the sight of her-the sway of her hips was mesmerizing.

"Feel better now, dumbass?" Zane asked as the two of them hustled to the waiting Escalade.

"She is fucking incredible."

"Oh, Jesus, man. No."

Mike waved him to silence. "Don't worry. I know."





Chapter Two


Luckily, no one except Savannah and Rowan had noticed their unexpected  guests, and Savannah hoped Rowan could be convinced to keep that  encounter a secret for now. Savannah wasn't one hundred percent certain  how her parents would take the news of Michael Larson showing up at  Tommy's memorial, but she had enough of an idea. She didn't want to  witness any tirades the information might trigger, especially since she  was meeting the man for coffee later.

Yeah, where in the hell had that come from?

She didn't know, but gut instinct told her to hear him out. He'd  traveled here, apparently-though she couldn't remember from his stats  where he was from, he'd said New Orleans wasn't his town. So he'd cared  enough to search out Tommy's home and funeral arrangements somehow. The  information hadn't been broadcast nationwide, and they'd done their best  to keep it private.

Rowan waited beside Savannah's parents' pearl-white BMW, arms crossed,  head lowered, but at least she seemed composed. "I can't believe that  just happened," she said as Savannah approached.

"What happened to spitting in his face?" She nudged Rowan's arm with her elbow, earning the ghost of a smile.

"Well! He was the last person I expected to see."

"I know. Me too. But, Rowan, he seems really remorseful. Would it make you feel better to-"

"No," Rowan said, shaking her head. "No. Not now and probably not ever."

Sighing, Savannah nodded. "I understand." Looked like she was going to  have to keep her coffee meeting a secret from her sister-in-law, too.  Slipping away from them all in a couple of hours would probably be no  easy feat even if she did think she would enjoy the time away.

It wasn't that her family drove her nuts. They drove her freaking insane.

And Michael himself . . .

He'd been nothing like she expected, though to be fair she hadn't known  what to expect, hadn't ever thought she would come face-to-face with  him. All she'd seen of him before the fight was his glowering, barking  threats and taunts. She knew he was Michael "Larceny" Larson, but in his  early fighting career he'd also been called the "Red Reaper" because of  a tattoo of the grim reaper on his chest, done in red instead of black.  That nickname had made a bit of a comeback since Tommy's demise.

He had close-cut brown hair, a square jaw shadowed with stubble, full  lips, the cheekbones of a movie villain, and of course those cold blue  eyes. He also still sported a few cuts and bruises from the fight with  Tommy. Somehow that had taken her breath away more than the sight of him  striding toward her-that he still wore the remnants of Tommy's last  acts on this earth.

Yes, his appearance she knew. It was his demeanor that had thrown her  off guard. He seemed . . . gentler. Even more so now than in his  remorseful postfight interviews.

If a man that size could be gentle. God. Even the jeans and long-sleeved  black shirt he'd been wearing couldn't conceal the swell of his  muscles. Tommy had been a big guy too, but something about Michael's  size was overwhelming, intimidating. He wore it like armor against the  world, but it hadn't hidden the desperation in his expression. There had  been no resisting; she had to hear him out.

"Let's not tell Mom and Dad he showed up. I don't know how they would take it."

"I do. And you don't have to worry about me telling them. He had no right to come here."

"If he felt like he needed to say something to us, then this probably  would have been his only opportunity." She would find out more when she  met with him later. The idea gave her an odd sense of fluttering in her  stomach. Not excitement-it would be obscene to feel excitement at a time  like this. Curiosity. Only curiosity. She was willing to give him the  benefit of the doubt even if no one else was.                       
       
           



       

"There's no justice in this world or the situation would be reversed."

"Rowan," Savannah snapped. "That's a terrible thing to say. You're upset; you don't really mean that."

Rowan only shook her head hard in response, as if she was done with the whole conversation.

So Savannah let her be done, staring silently across the cemetery, lost  in thought. She searched the sky for her eagle again, but he was long  gone, and soon enough her parents appeared. Her mother's eyes were damp  and she clutched her white handkerchief to her chest while her dad  helped her up the hill, tall and handsome in his dark suit and with his  salt-and-pepper hair. Savannah moved to her mother's other side and took  her arm. She didn't need to ask if Regina was okay. None of them were,  and wouldn't be for a long time.

"Oh, honey," Regina said, leaving their aid to wrap Rowan in a tight  hug. "I know that was so hard for you. We love you so much."

"I love you too, Mom." Rowan had called Regina "Mom" almost since they  met. Her own mother had died when she was sixteen, her dad three years  later in a car accident. And now Tommy. Really it was no wonder  bitterness had started to creep into Rowan's heart, but Savannah hoped  it wouldn't take root there and consume her entirely. She was a sweet  person; she didn't deserve this.

Once Regina and Rowan were tucked away in the car, Savannah kissed her  dad on the cheek and hugged him. Charles Dugas had been stoic as always  through this entire ordeal, but she saw the pain he tried to hide from  them all. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too. Are you coming to the house?"

She had come here in her own car, thank God. "I'll be by later. I'm just going to go home for a little while, unwind."

In their mutual dislike for ridiculous shows of ceremony, she knew he  would understand that. One corner of his mouth tilted up. "I figured.  But you be careful, okay?" And the half smile vanished as if it had  never been. "You're all we've got."

"Oh, Dad." She grabbed him in a fierce hug again, feeling his  smooth-shaven cheek against her own and smelling the aftershave he'd  worn for as long as she could remember. It made her wish she were little  again. Carefree. Happy. "I'm not going anywhere."



Mike wasn't sure what he'd expected of the famous little coffee shop on  Decatur, but this really wasn't it. On such a beautiful day, the patrons  were out in droves, and the covered outdoor area was full under its  green and white – striped awning. The indoor area didn't look any less  crowded. The smell, though, was heavenly: coffee and sugar. Generally he  avoided both with few exceptions. But today definitely called for an  exception.

Nowhere did he see a lovely head of shimmering dark hair, though. He was  early, since he'd had a couple of hours to kill. Zane had dropped him  off immediately after leaving the cemetery since he had to get to sound  check and wouldn't have another opportunity to get away before the  concert. Mike had strolled aimlessly and taken in some sights before  meeting Savannah. Jackson Square was beautiful in full bloom, and street  musicians played bluesy tunes while horse-drawn carriages clattered by.  So far, New Orleans was his kind of place: laid-back, mysterious and  haunted. His youngest brother Damien always sang its praises, too-Damien  spent almost as much time here as he did at his ranch outside of  Houston, his nightclub, or the glittering casinos of Las Vegas. Hell, he  might even be here now. Mike hadn't talked to him in a while. He'd have  to make a note to do that.

Life was precious.

"Been here long?" a voice asked behind him. He turned to see Savannah  right behind him. She hadn't changed from her dark funeral attire, but  large sunglasses shielded her eyes now and she'd put her long hair up in  a knot while one loose tendril teased at the corner of her right eye.  He longed to brush it away.

"Just a couple of minutes," he said. "Thanks for coming."