Total D*ck(40)
Good. I want those fuckers on a pike. ~K
That’s a Gorepheus specialty. We’ll get them. Stay safe. ~G
You, too. ~K
Chapter Eleven
Scarlett
I sat in the car and waited as Kennedy knocked on the door of a shotgun-style house in the Tremé district. The door opened a crack, letting a sliver of light out into the night, before the door opened all the way and Kennedy slipped inside.
I glanced around, making sure no one was lurking. The street was quiet, and Kennedy assured me we hadn’t been tailed, but I wasn’t taking any more chances. At first, when I saw the tussle in my yard, I’d been confused. Once Kennedy explained it, I’d become scared. But by the time we stopped in Tremé for this little errand, I was livid.
After only a few moments, Kennedy returned to the car.
“What was that about?”
“Just arranging some extra security at the house.”
“How?”
He pulled into the street and headed north toward Lake Pontchartrain. “That house belongs to a longtime client of mine, Lou. I helped him with a slip and fall a long time ago when I was just starting out.”
“Slip and fall, huh? Color me shocked.”
He glanced at me and nodded. “Your sarcasm is duly noted. Anyway, after that, Lou started sending me more and more work—his relatives, friends, people who worked for him. They helped me get established.”
“So, he’s like the godfather of Tremé?”
He smiled. “That’s one way to put it. He’s on the up-an-up . . . Mostly. And he owes me more than a few favors.”
We drove alongside the City Park, skirting its edge.
“Do you think anyone else is in danger? My mother or maybe Graham or Guy?” I didn’t want to think any of them were in harm’s way, even though I still wasn’t sure why I’d been targeted.
“I think they’re fine. That guy was after you. I didn’t have a tail and neither did Carey. You’re the one I’m worried about.”
I took a deep, steadying breath. “Do you think he was going to kill me?”
He reached over and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. My mind told me to take my hand away, but I couldn’t. I needed reassurance, comfort, anything other than the gnawing sensation that I’d dodged a bullet.
“I don’t know. He certainly had the right equipment, but maybe there was more to it. He could have been there to send a message or . . .”
“Or kidnap me? Or, or worse?” I tightened my grip, anger overcoming my fear.
“But don’t worry about that now. He’s gone. If he comes back, it’ll be the last move he makes. Lou’s men are already on their way.” He turned down a street on the banks of the Pontchartrain and then down a short drive. We pulled up to a house as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn.
“This is me.”
His home was small, a one-story bungalow painted a light cream, with a widow’s walk along the top to see over the floodwall to the lake. A lone palm tree decorated the front yard, and the grass was trimmed and neat.
“Sorry it’s not quite what you’re used to, but my other place in the District isn’t so easily protected.” He got out and pulled my carry-on suitcase from his trunk as I grabbed my laptop bag.
A cool breeze floated past, making the fronds of the palm tree dance.
“You have a place in the Garden District?”
We walked to a side door that opened to his kitchen. The space was clean and neat, the dark granite counters and white cabinets a nice, modern touch.
“Among others.”
“So you own lots of properties?” I followed him through the kitchen and into the living room. A fluffy leather couch and a matching chair took up most of the room, and a flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall.
“I have a few. Plaintiff’s work pays sometimes.”
He flipped the hall light on and led me through, showing me the bathroom, two bedrooms, and the master suite.
“You can sleep in here and I’ll take one of the guest rooms.” He picked up my suitcase and plopped it on the navy blue duvet.
“That’s okay. It’s your house. I don’t want to impose too much.” I glanced to the en suite bathroom that had a claw-foot soaking tub. A bath would have felt more than nice.
He followed my gaze. “It’s fine. Maria cleans every Thursday and I haven’t been here in a week or so, so everything should be tidy for you. But”—he stepped toward me—“if you want me to stay in here with you, of course I ca—”
“The master suite is fine. Thank you. I’ll take it.” I walked past him and opened my suitcase, turning my back to him so he wouldn’t see my smile.