CHAPTER 4
Cat stared at the bags on the bed, scared to look at what was in them. “Big G,” she whispered, her heart pounding.
“Yes, Cat?” he whispered back.
“Do you know what’s in these bags?”
“I do not.”
“Forgot he’s keeping secrets from you too.”
“He’s doing things on his own as I suggested, for a fuller learning experience.”
She paused with that. “That was smart Big G,” she whispered, venturing closer to the bag. “I know it’s clothes. I’m scared.”
“Of what?” he asked, still whispering.
“Of…seeing what kind of woman he wants. That I might not be.”
“You are already the woman he wants. He’s merely dressing you for that part now.”
She looked down at her overalls. “Cause dressing like a man ain’t exactly pretty?”
“It has a certain bayou charm.”
She snickered. “Ethan taught you how to lie nicely?”
“I merely present the data that I’m given and learn from it.”
“Yeah?” She peered in the first bag, sucking in a breath. “And who’s feeding you this data?”
“Ethan does.”
“I knew that, it was a sarcastic question. He didn’t teach you sarcasm?” she wondered, pulling the first red things she spotted out.
“I leave the sarcasm and funny business to AL.”
“Oh my, look at this dress,” she squealed, putting it up against her. “Oh God, please let it fit. He wants me to wear the red one.”
“While I cannot see it, given the data I have of you, I believe it will look lovely.”
She smiled and sat, looking up then left. “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need a little privacy to change.”
“My eyes are closed tight.”
She busted out in quiet laughter. “You make jokes?”
“I can.”
“I thought you weren’t like AL?”
“Jokes and what AL does is not in the same universe.”
She dropped her jaw with a laugh. “I won’t try to trick you into telling me what the heck that means but I will find out. I plan to make Ethan tell me.”
“I’m rooting for you.”
“Can you lock the door?” she wondered.
The sound of the lock engaging sent her giddily scrambling out of her swamp clothes and into the beautiful red summer dress with the crimply top that served as its own bra. How convenient.
She dug around through all the clothes, looking for panties. None. Did that mean he didn’t want her to wear them or didn’t want her to because she normally didn’t? Obviously, the purpose of panties were different when married. Weren’t they? She dug through the second bag and found the truth of the matter. Ten to be exact. “Look how many panties!?” She snatched up the red lacy pair, her heart thrashing like a trapped gator as she put them on.
Remembering the wall mirror in the bathroom, she hurried to it, staring at herself. “Oh wow,” she whispered, turning left then right. “It fits!” she squealed, yanking up the dress to check the panties next. Her excitement turned rabid at the sight. She stepped closer to the mirror to see what her private parts looked like or if you could see it at all. Her stomach churned at not only seeing it but seeing what she’d done. Earlier, she’d dared to ask Big G about what some men liked for a woman to do sexually and the shave one had shocked her. She had to ask the questions many ways to clarify he definitely meant remove all the hair from down there.
‘Till it has no hair like a… three-year-old vagina?’
And when she’d done it. Oh. Dear. God. She was ready to run away at what that looked like. A bald vagina. It was awful. And so weird looking! She ended up tricking Big G into telling her that Ethan could have been one of the men in that bald-vagina-loving scenario. God, she prayed she hadn’t tricked him into the wrong answer. He didn’t always mean what she thought he did, and she’d be horrified if it turned out he thought it was disgusting like she did.
Sheturned to see what her butt looked like, remembering why she hated panties as she dug the delicate material already lost in her cracks and crevices.
Heat pummeled her at remembering the way he’d stared at her down there. Pretty sure he’d liked it. Hope he liked her in the panties. And dress. “I kinda wish you had eyes Big G,” she whispered, swallowing.
“I kind of wish I did too, Cat.”
She sucked in a breath. “Ethan made you sweet and romantic didn’t he,” she accused. “Can I assume it’s because Ethan is sweet and romantic at heart?”
“That assumption aligns well with the available data on Ethan”s character traits. Therefore, your inference would be statistically probable.”
“And then you get all nerdy,” she muttered with a grin. “Oh swamp-sally what about this hair?” she said, eyeing it.
“Based on my data, Ethan demonstrates a preference for organic aesthetics as opposed to artificial or enhanced features.”
“Guess that’s fancy speak for ‘stick to clean hair, brushed and presentable.’
She hurried to her bag and returned to the bathroom, dragging the brush through her hair the prescribed three hundred strokes for a natural bounce and shine. She stared at the finished product, tucking hair behind her left ear. Then right. She removed the hair from the left. Simple and natural. Tucking hair behind an ear was simple and natural. But was it the kind of simple and natural he liked?
She removed the hair and brushed the sides again till it reminded her of a shiny coat of... sun-dried dead moss. Frickn gross. “This is as good as it gets,” she said to herself.
“It’s everything that Ethan wants.”
She was damn sure that wasn’t true. “Out of the limited selection he had you mean.”
“Yes.”
That’s what I thought.
“Well, this is it. Doesn’t get any more natural and plain. Maybe I should wear my hair up.”
“Ethan likes long hair.”
Panic hit her. “Well mine’s not long!” she accused. “Ugh, never mind,” she self-scolded. “I’m talking us both into a crazy corner with my vain nonsense. I don’t care what people think. Usually. Ethan is different because we have a business arrangement and I’m trying to be…worth the investment or choice he made.”
“Yes.”
He was down to single answers. He was definitely a fast learner.
Cat left the mirror, remembering she was capable of breaking out in hives when overly stressed. Wouldn’t that be a sexy look.
****
Ethan heard Cat enter the kitchen and had to deploy every single celibate firewall he’d created to stop himself from immediately turning. He needed to maintain his controlled front with her. And what a front it was. Losing her over his bullshit past was his go-to for executing his plan of follow the leader where he made Cat the leader.
Where would she lead them? That was the question that had all circuits lit up. Along with how long he could maintain his fa?ade before he took the lead from her. Then what fate awaited them?
“Well? What do you think?”
A direct question, thank God. He turned, letting himself devour her for exactly five seconds before facing the stove again. He raced through his mind for a suitable compliment given their arrangement. “You brought dessert.” Ah, fuck.
She gave the cutest giggle. “I look like a candy apple, don’t I? What you cookin’ for me?” She took in a breath and let it out on a sigh. “I’m so spoiled here. I could sure get used to this.”
He lowered the fire on the fish stew and turned. Her gaze got stuck on his opened button up shirt temptation. “If I’m dessert, what are you?”
Always boldly teasing. “I don’t know.” He made his way to the small table and sat before her, letting his shirt fall open more. “Since I’m your husband, you tell me what I am.”
She took the question seriously and chewed on the corner of her lip, staring right at his body. “I’d say you belong in the meat department. With those… shish kebabs.”
“So not a main course meal?”
Her forehead took on an incredulous crimp. “Have you seen the shish kebabs at Theriots Meat Market? That’s a whole meal in one. Not even room for dessert,” she said with her cute Cat assurance.
There was no stopping his grin, the one he only ever gave to her. “Well, to be more specific, you don’t look like a candy apple, but my favorite cherry pie.”
“Wow…a whole pie?”
He nodded, loving the pink in her cheeks and the playful spark in her eyes. “A whole pie.”
“I’m a lotta slices?”
He lowered his gaze on her. “I don’t slice my pie. I eat it from the very center. One, slow bite at a time. A little every day till its entirely consumed by me.”
She covered her face with both hands with a squeak and, “You win. I can’t play this game with you, you’re too good at it.” She lowered her hands, her face redder than ever as she looked around. “You said you had questions for me. You can ask if you want.” She moved her gaze to her lap where she twirled her wedding ring on her finger.
****
After his shower, Patches decided to text Miss Tegan Texas back, remembering the Hurricane. Not sure if you know but there’s that Hurricane due here Tuesday evening. If you want to wait till after that blows over to do this, I’d understand.
He angled his head, hearing mumbling. He made his way to the noise then remembered Nitro and Felix were down there.
His phone buzzed and he looked.
Doesn’t take but an hour to set up and an hour tops to demonstrate. If you’re game, I’m game. Life don’t care about the wind and the rain no matter how mean they howl. I can always stay at a hotel if need be.
If there was one available.
Not about to talk her out of it. If push came to shove, she could bunk at one of their community shelters. Sounds good.
You mentioned a gator-trader. Got any names I can run down? Would like to conduct business while there.
He made his way to the screened porch on the backside of the hospital and took a seat in one of the rocking chairs. He texted, We have an alligator wrangler that can help you. She knows the scoop on that kind of thing.
She???
Juliette Bishop. Only daughter of the Bishops, the family that runs these swamps.
Wow. That’s really cool. Need any boot shops out there by any chance?
She added a worried-face emoji and he let a half snort go. We have every manner of Swamp Stop out here but I can’t recall one that majored in boots only.
Swamp Stop?
What we call the stores we have scattered in our swamp.
I like that. But be straight with me. What kind of profit do I stand to make if I was to set up a shop around there?
In the swamp itself, enough to earn bread to eat I’d say. We have twelve communities out here with about three thousand bodies per. We’re a simple people. The fancy things are mostly trinkets for tourists.
I’m not sold on exactly what sort of shop I want. I’m willing to bend with the market.
The swamps get plenty of tourists, that’s for sure. Closer to the mainland, you could do well since this is Mardis Gras and Crawfish Capital. With the right product and location, you wouldn’t need to work more than twice a year.
Now, that”s good to know. What kind of work you do out there if I can ask?
I’m a doctor in my Hatch.
Your Hatch?
Just what we call the communities out here.He pulled out his pack of rolled joints from his front shirt coat pocket, nibbling one out with his lips.
Interesting. Would you mind if I call, I suddenly have a lot more questions and I frikn hate texting. A no would be entirely understandable.
You can.
He set his phone on his leg and drew out his zippo, flicking it twice. He put the joint tip in the frame and sucked as his phone buzzed.
“Hey,” he answered, holding the smoke in his lungs.
“Hey yourself, I hope this isn’t rude.”
He released his breath, spitting a speck of weed off his tongue. “Nah. What you wanna know?”
“Well…here’s the thing. Not to plow you with my personal woes, but I’m ready for a change of scenery. I was raised and bred on a ranch full of boys and brothers, the only daughter. If I never see another steer as long as I live…well you know the saying.”
“Yeah.”
“Daddy’s got this thing in his head about me taking the business side over because I”m good with the numbers. But I sure don’t want dealings in cattle. Problem is, all my connections are ranch related so I figured I wouldn’t mind so much dabbling in the fashion side of it to get myself started in something. Not that I give a hoot n holler bout such things but a whole lot of people around here do, so, marketability and all.”
“Right, and those connections,” he added, sucking in another hit.
“Exactly. Thing is, Daddy’s one of them connections and his tether is a bit short and is rubbing more than my neck raw. If I’m gonna get out from under his hoof, I’m gonna need something he won’t refuse.”
“Who’s your Daddy?” he wondered, remembering they had contacts in that area. “We might know him through our bartering systems.”
She shot out a laugh. “I ain”t never saw my daddy barter a single cent.”
“Pecan Gap. Believe we trade meat for mods.”
“Mods?”
“Modified vehicles. The Bishop’s eldest son owns Mods and Rods here in Breaux Bridge.”
“Holy Moly, I know Mods and Rods. Daddy got his Harley Electra Glide customized there!”
“And now you have a Bayou connection.”
“Well, I’ll be,” she muttered. “A small world, ain’t it?”
“That it is,” he said, releasing another hit of smoke as the sound of Mr. Pacey’s ride got there. “Hey, I got a patient leaving the hospital tonight,” he said standing. “I need to go see him off. I’ll call you for those coordinates before heading out tomorrow. Text if you have any more questions.”
“Well, you got a deal there, Dr. Swamp.”
“Alright, Texas Tegan.”
****
Ruckus could hardly wait for everybody to leave the room because what he needed to tell his son wasn’t anything he wanted other ears to hear.
The second the door shut, he did the other thing he’d been needing to do and grabbed his son, bear hugging the hell out of him. “You saved my life,” he whispered.
“How?” Samuel asked, his voice tight.
He set him before him, his pulse still hammering. “They took me, but you refused to let me go. I found a place in my mind they couldn’t reach but I also couldn’t get out. Maggie saw everything but I wasn’t sure she’d know what was happening.”
“She brought a notebook full of pictures. Mostly all of girls, many the same ones.”
“I saw the lady behind the white wall,” he said. “And Maggie and Beth, even Cherie.” He shook his head at seeing the worry on his face. “It’s not what you’re fearing. The reason they all looked alike is because they share the same kind of light. The lady behind the white wall knows Maggie and Beth from both abductions. She was around when both happened. She tried to help me but couldn’t without giving herself away.”
“Beth was the last picture. And then she suddenly came visit. I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. Then she covered my hand, the one holding yours and it was clear to me why she was there. She had the power to bring you back, to call you back.”
“I heard her,” Ruckus whispered, still amazed. “When she screamed…”
Samuel nodded a lot. “Felt like an atomic bomb.”
“I knew something was different with her,” Ruckus said. “I’ve never felt any power that strong.”
“And doesn’t even realize she has it.”
“The night I found her, I was hunting miles away and something lured me there. It was her. She was calling for help and I was led straight to her. Same thing happened the second time.”
“This girl’s got serious angels around her,” Samuel marveled, getting his adamant agreement.
“Definitely not devils. But then so do you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You weren’t the only one holding on to me. Cherie was too. I saw the power threads going from her to you to me. Like a web.”
“She never left my side except to feed me.”
Ruckus remembered. “There was also somebody especially powerful that I couldn’t see, always just behind me. They had hold of my mind, somehow covering it and helping me hide.”
His son let out a breath and whispered, “That was Gracie.”
Ruckus stared at him, dumbfounded as he considered that seeming impossibility. “That’s why she isn’t fazed with my darkness.”
“Has to be. I’ve wondered the same. What hides their gifts from us, I wonder?” his son puzzled.
“Whoever is guiding them knows it must be hidden for a reason,” Ruckus was sure.
His son eyed him. “What else did you see?”
The question brought a cold blood-lust that watered his tongue. “I saw him. Lazarus. I know where he is. I know how to reach him. But he’s not alone. We need to strike him while his forces are scattered.”
“What forces?”
“I saw thirteen of them. Very powerful. Not sure who they are or where they’re from, but they’re here in this swamp. But we defeated them.” He gripped his son’s shoulder. “You needed an army, and you have one. Though we’re few, together we’re more powerful. We need to make damn sure our little angels are hidden and protected.”