Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 2

Tegan turned at the tap on her shoulder, finding an auburn-haired beauty with arms crossed and a smile on her pretty face. “I’m Juliette.”

She looked down at the outstretched hand and shook it. “I’m Tegan. From Texas.”

The girl shook her finger at her with a sly look. “You got a brother named Torin?”

Tegan drew back a little. “I sure do.”

She nodded. “I knew it. He could be your twin. He came and picked up your daddy’s mod from my brother’s shop. I still remember those melted Hershey chocolate eyes.”

She realized and dropped her jaw. “You’re the sister that wrangles alligators?”

“Among other things,” she said, her sneaky grin bringing Tegan’s now.

“Well, I’ll be. Just the woman I needed to see. I was thinking of setting up a Texas designer clothes shop and Mr. Patches said you were the one to talk to about alligator boots. I was thinking to start a line to go with my other merchandise.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you need, I can help.” She angled her head, curious. “What brings you way out here?”

She looked around, not sure how much she should say but something in the girl’s sparkling eyes said she knew all and might be testing her. “Patches needed some equipment I was selling, and I was just bringing it to show him how to set it up.”

She leaned in closer. “That bat equipment?”

Yep, she knew. “That’s the one. We had us a mess of bats attacking our steers and we had to tag all the cattle to monitor them.”

“Did it work?”

“Wouldn’t know, the damn things left before we could get a chance to find out.”

“Figures,” Juliette said, tossing her head a little to the right. “Let’s go grab that swing and sit a bit before I’m called off.”

“You’re here for this hurricane party they’re having?” Tegan asked as they walked.

“Yup. You stuck here?”

“I am,” she said. “But I knew I would be when I agreed to come.”

They sat and Juliette let out a long sigh, nodding at people. “You been introduced yet?”

Tegan looked where she nodded. “Not yet. Patches had to leave suddenly.”

“Well, let me informally do that. See the handsome group of boys by those small houses?”

Tegan looked, shading her eyes with a hand. “I do. I think I recognize one of them.”

“Those are my brothers. Bart, Jek, Zep and August. And that cutie pie over there,” she nodded to their right, “my brother just recently found out she existed. His daughter from his whore ex Katrina. And that adorable boy hanging all over her is Bishop’s son.”

“Son?”

“Not blood. Adopted. And the girl next to him is his twin, Luseah. And the goofy one grinning at her is Bishop’s other adopted son.”

Tegan eyed her.

“It’s not incest,” she swore. “None of them are technically related but my brother doesn’t see it that way.”

Her grin implied an interesting story. “Who’s that?” Tegan asked. “The black woman and the…”

“Fine ass man next to her? That’s our Seer and his wife, Cherie. They’re a new item. The man next to him is his father who just returned from the grave so to speak. And the woman with the blond curls is Gracie, his woman. Also, very new items them two. And see those boys over there by the Basilique steps?”

She looked.

“The one with the black cowboy hat and the gun on his hip is Bullets. One on his right is Shank, and the one on his right is Traps. The next one is Hurricane, then Bacon. And the hunky giant is Spar,” she said, fondness in her tone.

“That’s some interesting names,” Tegan said, her curiosity about these people growing by the second.

“That’s their leader names. They’re part of something we call The Twelve.”

“Patches mentioned them. The celibate ones?”

She let out a big laugh. “Ex celibate. They had a twelve-year chastity code that ended some years back but not a one of their fine asses took a woman till their Bishop found his future wife half dead in the swamp.” She regarded Tegan. “The Noctambule,” she muttered, something passing over her face that chilled her. “Evil devil clan that we fought fifteen years back. I was barely seven. Trafficked women and children for things you don’t wanna know. He nursed her back to health and fell right in love with her.” A bit of that earlier warmth softened her face. “And now, she done talked all The Twelve into taking wives.” She angled a look at Tegan. “She majored in sex in college and convinced all of them men that they couldn’t properly live much less lead without a woman at their side to complete them.”

Tegan’s brows rose. “You’re kiddin’.”

“I am not,” she assured, sounding amazed as she propped her ankle on her knee before giving her a look again and leaning closer. “Turns out she’s got the Compelling.”

“The compelling?”

“Something in her voice that controls people. You know the kind, everything they say you just…happen to agree with them?” She nodded with that sly smile. “That’s how it goes with that one.”

“Glad that’s…good?”

She shrugged. “Not sure about that, but she’s good. Too good if you ask me. But she saved my brother from himself and for that we all love her to death. Not as much as he loves her. Shooo, I never saw such a love like that before.”

Tegan eyed her, the wistful longing in her tone finding a comfy spot in her own chest. She eyed the group of men by the Basilique again. “So, you said those Twelve over yonder are taking wives?”

Juliette laughed. “Over yonder?”

“What? That’s how I say it.”

She laughed more. “You’re just too cute! That’s some of them. Nitro is one, the one in need of your bat equipment. But he found his wife, Felix. Both are at Patches’ hospital palace. And Lesion, the one he left with has a woman too—Tully. Seer isn’t one of the Twelve but he counts close enough. Spook is a Twelve and he married Beth’s sister, Maggie. They’ll be coming later. She’s another story all by herself.”

Tegan mentally counted. “That’s four with that Seer one. That leaves eight.”

“Leaves seven if you count my brother.” She jerked toward her a little. “Why? You looking to marry? I can introduce you.”

Tegan drew back. “Lord no, I was just curious.”

She shrugged, then held up a hand, counting them off. “So, there’s Bacon, Bullets, Shank, Spar, Traps, Hurricane, and Patches left for marrying.”

Tegan’s heart sputtered in her chest before dropping to her stomach. “Patches?”

Juliette eyed her then quirked a brow. “You like him,” she said, bloody reading her damn mind. “I knew it.”

“How could you possibly know such a thing?” she quietly begged to differ. “Are you saying he’s one of The Twelve?”

“Yep. And ready to marry.”

“You sure about that?” she highly doubted.

“Oh, I am. He done picked three to court. But he ain’t in no hurry, I hear.”

“From who?”

“Mah-Mah and Beth. The keepers of the Bayou Ball everybody’s waiting for. All the qualified maidens of the land have been invited to participate for The Twelve to pick from.”

Qualified. “What qualifies them?”

“Well, so far, all the men picked women from out of town. I heard a couple of them say they wouldn’t marry out of the bayou, didn’t think it right.”

She burned to know which ones said that but wasn’t about to give Little Miss Juliette more clues than she clearly already had. Or luckily guessed. She didn’t like like Patches, she barely knew him. He was pleasant and easy to talk to without feeling sexed up by roving eyeballs and sexual innuendos dripping in their tones. But damn he was sexy in every other way.

“I think it’s honorable,” Tegan said.

“What is?”

“Marrying inside the…clan or whatever.”

She shrugged. “Patches would agree,” she muttered, her look telling her she was still somehow dropping clues.

“He does seem like that type.”

“What type?” she sweetly pressed.

“The marrying in the family type. Old fashioned. You know,” she pressed.

“I saw how he looked at you,” she muttered, scattering her pulse.

“Don’t even go there,” Tegan ordered.

“Oh, I know things,” she assured lightly.

“I’m sure you do.” And I’m not about to ask.

“He’s not really wanting to marry, and we’re all wagering he’ll take forever and a day to get around to it. Says he wants to give them all a fair amount of time so he’s intending on courting them, indefinitely is my hunch.”

Good lord. “Well, he could bond with one of them.” A sawing set up in her guts as she imagined it.

“I think he might be a virgin,” she whispered. “Not all of The Twelve are, some had sexy time before they took the vow. But Patches…” She shook her head and Tegan bit the pressing questions on her tongue. “He’s different.”

“How so?” she couldn’t help.

“Like you said…old fashioned. “Did you know he became a doctor to please his Grand Pier?”

“Grand Pier?”

“His paw-paw. Grandfather?”

“Oh. Right.”

She went back to smiling at the air. “His daddy is a sonofabitch to him, but his Grand Pier treats him like swamp royalty. An heir to some throne.”

A mix of emotions twirled about in her. “Glad he’s got his Grand Pier,” she said.

“He visits him every day,” she said affectionately. “Drives ten miles into the reeds and gives him a run-down of his day, Mah-Mah told me.”

“Was his Grand…Pier a doctor?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But his father was,” she said with severity. “He’s all he talks about. I don’t know what happened between Grand Pier and his son, but it skipped a generation, whatever it was. I’m glad Patches has him, I just hate how his dad is to him though.”

The idea of his dad being mean to him set fire to the acid in Tegan’s stomach. “That’s awful.” Her daddy wasn’t perfect but there was never a doubt of his love. And his father was about the same. She was told her momma was an angel. She got to know her through Gammy’s stories, and she cherished those with every fiber of her being.

“Well…I hope he finds the right girl,” Tegan said. “He’s… quiet.”

“Dr. Broody, I call him.”

“Why?” she wondered.

“Always so serious.” She leaned in and whispered. “I can get you on that list still.”

Tegan shook her head. “I’m not from here.”

She smiled and slowly withdrew. “If you were, you’d let me put you on the list?”

She flustered about at that one, getting Juliette’s laugh.

“You like him, just admit it.”

“What’s not to like?”

“Amen to that. You got a boyfriend?”

“No thank you, I do not.”

“Same,” she muttered, her face going sour. “I had one then I found him talking to a fuckin’ whore down the bayou.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I hate men. Most of them. Not all are bad, I just haven’t had the pleasure of meeting one that wasn’t all about…”

“Sex. Patches isn’t like that.”

“Well, I can sure see that.”

Her laugh erupted again. “And you wish he was,” she knowingly accused.

“You know how it goes. What you want you can’t always have.”

“I think I know what that means and yep, agree. Sooooo, how long you here for?”

“Till the hurricane passes.”

She sighed. “It’s gonna be some kinda mess,” she sang, openly baiting her.

“Well, they seem to have their ducks in a row with all that.”

“We always have outside volunteers for things like that,” she said, side-eyeing her. “Patches will surely need an extra pair of hands that aren’t…trying to get in his pants.”

Oh mercy. Juliette laughed at her.

“The look on your face.”

“What look!”

“You want to get in his pants,” she boldly said, bringing a wave of heat to her cheeks but she couldn’t make her mouth deny it.

“Who wouldn’t, he’s drop dead gorgeous.”

“I knowwww!” she said, like it tormented her.

“What about you? You sound like you might should sign up yourself.”

This got a big laugh. “Girl, these are my brothers.”

“Even the big giant one I see you eye-ballin” every five seconds?”

She didn’t bother to hide her longing in the sigh she gave. “Yes. Even him,” she said sadly. “He’s the one that taught me how to fight.”

“So why can’t you get with him? You obviously want to.”

“I don’t know,” she lamented, sounding ready to be talked into it. “Just…kinda weird, I guess.” She turned to her. “So, you gonna stay and help Patches? He’ll need it with those women,” she muttered.

What was that tone? “I ain’t gonna lie, not sure I can stand watching him date another woman.”

“Well, honestly, the women he picked?” She shook her head. “One of them works at the hospital. I do not like her. Hell, I don’t like any of them, not for him. All of ‘em are hairy boars. I’m sure you have a Texas equivalent.”

“Maybe heifers?”

She giggled. “I like that term.”

“And I like yours.”

“You could just simply be there in the way,” she suggested. “An obstruction like. A log blocking the path, not intentionally but just…doing what logs do, they don’t mean no harm.”

“And when he walks over said log to get to his courting?”

“Well, you gotta be a bigger log than that,” she cried, making Tegan laugh. “Work with me here!”

“Why?” she cried. “The man wants to marry a woman of the swamp, if anything I’ll help make sure he does it right. He seems like he could use all the help he can get in that department.”

She gasped. “That’s it! You can use that angle.”

“I don’t want to angle on him,” she cried.

“You lie! You so want to angle all over him!”

“Even if I do, I won’t,” she swore, remembering his mean daddy. “What he needs is a friend, not a woman trying to get in his pants.”

“You’ll be a first that doesn’t try now that he’s on the market.”

Oh, mercy. “Then that”s right, I’ll be the first.”

“That’s a good tactic,” she realized.

“It’s not a tactic!”

“Fine,” she surrendered. “But do it anyway.”

“If I see he needs help with the storm mess, I’ll help him.”

“Or with that bat stuff,” she added.

“There’s nothing to help with that, it’s too simple, trust me.”

She shot out a laugh. “Nothing is ever simple in these swamps, sha. You could at least make sure those girls are doing right by him.”

“What do you mean doing right by him?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face a mask of disgust. “I don’t trust any of them.”

Tegan shook her head. “Is there any woman in the swamp you would trust?”

“All the ones I would are old.” She aimed a smile at her. “And he does love himself some old people, now.”

Great, he was more amazing than before. “I lost my hat on the way over here. He…jumped in the bayou and got it. Your Mah-Mah gave me some clothes…what?” she wondered at her head shake.

“Not Mah-Mah, me, I picked out the clothes because I heard about it first.” She eyed her outfit, making Tegan’s skin flush. “Patches likes red.”

“You…why are you bent on this with that man who is wanting to court three other women who are from the swamp?”

She gave a growl, facing forward. “I just hate to see him settle.”

“Settle down?”

“No! Settle for less than what he wants. He needs variety.” She turned in the swing. “Just be a friend. Feel him out. Find out what he wants and…steer him a little. Why are you shaking your head?” she whispered.

“I’m not qualified!”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I like him! Geeze you’re something! You happy now? I can see you are, look at you. Glad this is funny, but it’s my ass on the line.”

“And a fine ass you have,” she giggled. “I saw him looking.”

“Stop,” she ordered, her pulse raging that he would”ve. “Probably wondering why it’s so darn huge.”

“Ohhhhh that is not what I saw.”

“You are not helping me! Do you want me to fall head over heels for him? And then what, if he’s wanting a swamp queen, what’s Miss Texas gonna do then? Ride off into the sunset? I have things to protect. Namely this,” she said, pointing at her chest. “Not my damn boobs, you dummy,” she whispered at her raised browse and grin aimed at them.

“Girl, I like you,” Juliette complained. “Just…see how it goes. Let nature do its thing.”

“We do not want that.”

She gave a huge laugh. “That bad, huh?”

“So, so much worse.”

****

“Check his vitals while I have a look at his eyes,” Patches told Lesion. He moved his light over both, finding what Bishop had.

“His pulse feels steady,” Lesion muttered. “What do you think?”

He looked around, spotting the head piece on the floor and picked it up. “Would help to know what the fuck did this.” He put them on his head.

“What do you see?”

“A blank screen.”

“He speaks to his computers,” Bishop said. “Try that.”

“Turn on,” Patches said.

“I’m sorry, your voice is not recognized by our system. Please enter the security passcode to proceed.”

“It’s saying I need a passcode. It’s voice recognition.”

“What about Cat?” Lesion wondered. “She saw something, maybe he added her voice.”

As much as he hated to bring her back in, he really needed to know. “I need to know what he endured.”

“I’ll go get her,” Bishop said.

“She mentioned they burned him,” Lesion muttered. “If this trauma is from over stimulation, I have something that can stabilize his neuropathways.”

“With you?”

“Yes. I brought my emergency kit.”

“I really need to learn your kind of medicine,” Patches said.

“You keep threatening that.”

Patches turned when Bishop and Cat entered.

“I don’t know if I have voice control,” she said, reminding him he needed to check her too. He handed her the headset, and she slipped it on. “I don’t know what to tell it. Hello?”

“Hello, Cat, what would you like today?”

“It’s asking me what I would like.”

“Can you ask it to playback the last session?” Bishop said.

“Can you replay the last session with Ethan?”

“Retrieving data of the last session with Ethan. Hells Inferno, level ten. Sadist—Grim Reaper.”

She ripped the headset off and handed it to him. “It’s on…” she gasped. “It’s on, I can’t watch.”

Patches took it from her and put the goggles on. The sight of Ethan in flames tied face down on a stone table froze his fucking blood. He fought his body’s need to react to the horror, not wanting to add more stress to Cat. His pulse pounded as he handed the goggles to Lesion, ready to vomit. “Thank you Cat. You can go.”

She hurried out and he looked at Lesion. “Fucking brace yourself,” he whispered. “Tell me what we might be dealing with.” There was no doubt in his mind that his brain had seized from that kind of mental trauma. Being burned alive would have engaged every pain sensor on the body. And for how long? Was it till they unhooked him? From what she’d said, yes. He couldn’t begin to calculate the agony he would’ve endured. Enough to give him a heart attack or stroke.

“Holy. Fucking….” Lesion muttered then removed the goggles. He stood with his eyes closed, head shaking for many seconds. Patches eyed Bishop who also watched him.

“I can fix this,” he suddenly said, hurrying to his bag near the door and returning with it.

“What will you do?”

“First I’ll clear the air with sage then prepare a carefully measured tincture of neuro-stabilizers to allow his system to enter a recovery state.”

“Here?” Bishop asked.

“Let’s move him to his bed. Once I get him stable, he can recover there. I’ll leave Cat with a protocol she can administer after I see he’s stable. I’ll stay with him till then. I know you both have have last minute hurricane prep. I’ll stay with Cat till he’s out of the danger zone.”

Patches watched Eveque’s entire body sag as his head dropped. “Thank you God,” he whispered wrapping his arms around Lesion and stepping back. “Thank you, brother.” He eyed Patches. “Both of you.” He let out a huge breath, eyeing Ethan. “What happens when he wakes?” he whispered, covering his mouth and putting his back to them. “He’ll have it all to face again.”

“Then I won’t leave till he makes a complete recovery. Tully will come and keep Cat company, we’ll be more than safe here during the storm. I’ll personally make sure he’s supervised.”

Bishop raked both hands through his hair and Patches didn’t like the look he wore. Like somebody terrified of losing a family member. First Nitro, now Ethan. With the war closing in, the air was packed with bad vibes that strummed along their worst fears. And now a hurricane.

“What about Nitro?” he suddenly wondered, panic back in his eyes.

“I got ‘em,” Patches said. “I have Miss Tegan here to help me get him tagged and the app up and running.”

“And as soon as you get that,” Lesion added, “call me. I have the necessary data to upload into the program.”

“You know how?” Bishop asked Patches?

“She does,” he said.

At seeing his relief, the white lie rolled right off him. Hopefully she did know.

Bishop glanced at Ethan and stared for many seconds. “I still remember him at thirteen.”

Patches chest constricted with the pain Bishop couldn’t keep from his voice. “He was so angry. So fucking shattered. I had to…be…way too fucking tough on him.”

The break of Eveque’s voice stabbed Patches through and through. Fuck.

“He’ll recover,” Lesion said.

His assurance was the only balm they had, and Patches grabbed onto it. Lesion knew what he was doing, despite what anybody thought or said. He had plenty of confidence in his perfectionistic ways.