Chapter 12
Vex
Istare down at the man on the table, trying to wrack my brain on whether he’s familiar or not. I mean, it’s going to be hard to pinpoint him exactly, given he’s looking pretty shitty, but still. If he was a part of Eden’s Keep I’d know, wouldn’t I?
“Tell me he ain’t fixin’ to keep doin’ that,” a feminine voice cuts through my haze.
“Momma, I told you, he’s tryin’ to place him.”
My gaze flicks from the dead man lying on the stainless steel table in front of me, to the mother-son duo across the room.
I’d love to see what Damian’s father looks like out of interest purely because he looks a hell of a lot like his mother.
Sturdy and tall, although her bright blonde Peggy Bundy hairdo could have something to do with that.
Damian’s mother Nancy is the exact woman I pictured to have birthed the big blonde fucker.
What I didn’t expect was the gentle voice, manners and poise that came wrapped in that statuesque package.
She greeted me like I imagined my mother would have were she still alive.
“Sorry, Mrs Devereaux. I’m trying to figure out if I know him. He’s vaguely familiar…” I drift off as my gaze drifts back to his mangled face and body.
She studies my face, then the face of the dead guy before nodding once with a small smile on her lips and leaving the room.
“You gon tell me what got you all freaked out?” Damian asks, leaning on the stainless steel table, arms folded over his huge chest.
“What makes you think I’m freaked out?”
He raises a blonde brow, then looks at his nails as if there is something really interesting there. “I dunno, could be you can’t stop looking at him. Could be that whatever he gon through maybe seem familiar and all that.”
I study Damian from my position on the other side of the stainless steel table and then jump when Nancy comes barreling through the door.
“I knew these were going to come in handy one day,” she murmurs in her sweet voice.
She places her hands on the corpse’s face, using her thumb to peel open one eyelid, wrestling something inside the socket, then doing it again on the other side.
“Voila! Is that better, cher? Do you recognize him now?” She stands back, admiring her work with the glass eyes and I stare at the man on the table. “Oh! And your little friends are here too,” she spins to pat Damian on the cheek and I try not to snort when he tries to dodge her hand.
“No mama! You got them death hands!”
She cackles loudly, throwing her head back, blonde hair not moving an inch. “I’ll send your little friends back, then I gotta get this body gone. I have the Dupris family coming in at 4pm for their maman.”
My head snaps to Nancy. “Are you putting this guy in with their maman?” I ask in shock.
Nancy blanches at my question and then lets loose in French. I may have spent my life around these parts, but I can only pick out a few words here and there and they’re enough to make my asshole pucker up. That sweet woman turned on a dime and I’ve got nowhere to hide.
Damian starts making soothing French sounds before leaving the room only to return a moment later with Barbara in his arms. He shoves her at his mother who wraps the mastiff in her arms, her angry French switching to a soothing coo that grandmothers use when their grandchildren visit.
She glares at me as she leaves the room, carrying a blissfully unaware Barbara in her arms.
“Brother, I don’t know if you got a disability or not, but you can’t go roun’ here like that.
Mama prides herself on her business acumen.
” I open my mouth to apologize, but he cuts me off.
“This guy here gon be disposed of with the Smith family granny. Mama hates her.” He smirks as he waves Dex, TumTum, Omen, and Saint through the doors.
“What the fuck?” Omen mumbles as his eyes land on the body on the table. I watch as he takes in the cuts, the burns, the bruises. He looks up at me with a frown, “The tongue?”
I never thought to check. Stepping closer, I grip the jaw, prying it open and peering inside. “Cut.”
“What was that look?” Damian says, his gaze bouncing between me and my brothers.
“What does it mean?” Dex asks, booted feet planted, arms crossed over his chest.
“In Eden’s Keep interpretation, only the Prophet could preach the word. Could be this guy is a preacher in a different church maybe?” Saint says.
“There was an Eden’s Keep symbol on the wall, right?” Omen asks, getting nods from me and Damian. “Could be he’s spreading the word?”
“After the last time, who the hell would want to start that shit up again?” Saint spits.
“The Prophet had a lot of die hard followers.,”
“I’m pretty sure your sister killed them all, didn’t she?” Dex asks, staring down at the body.
“She got rid of the council members and their die hard followers. Others who were unproblematic were left to choose their own path.”
“OK,” Prez nods. “So how many people are we talking about?”
“Loyal will have a better idea of the exact numbers, but I’d say around 30. Almost all are women, and children under the age of 16,” I answer.
“Hello there, welcome to Rest Easy Funeral Home. Can I get you anything to drink?” Damian’s mom comes breezing into the room, a tray with a floral teapot and cups and saucers perched on top. She places it just to the left of the dead guy’s head, and looks up, eyebrows raised.
“Ah, no, thank you, Ma’am,” Dex answers with a little cough.
“Such impeccable manners!” Nancy coos. She smiles wide when TumTum obliges her and asks for tea with one sugar. “Here you go sweetheart.” She places the cup and saucer on the corpse’s chest before looking up at us. “So, do you have any questions in regard to the deceased?”
We all stare at her in silence until Omen’s “Fuck it” breaks the spell. “Do you have any idea how long he’s been dead?”
Nancy bobs her head from side to side, turning to the table of implements beside her and picking something up. “What was the temperature like when you found him Ti-garcon?”
A snort escapes me and I try to cover it with a cough.
“What’s so funny?” Prez murmurs.
“Ti-garcon means “Little Boy’,” I whisper.
Dex coughs to cover his snort as well, and then we lose it when Damian flips us the bird all while keeping a straight face and answering his mother’s questions.
“The home is two story, west facing. In town, no bayou nearby. Ain’t no bugs either. Aircon was on but not cold. High ceilings, open rooms, clutter but not too much. Bread in the pantry still fresh but a few slices missing so I say it been open two, maybe three days.”
“Impressive run down, Prospect,” Dex nods.
“I knew what mama gon’ ask.”
Damian’s mom looks proud of her boy then spins on her kitten heels, rolls the corpse and pushes something into its ass.
TumTum spits tea everywhere, coughing like he’s dying. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezes, eyes wide.
A beep sounds out and Nancy nods once, then removes her thermometer from the body.
“A little warning would have been nice, darling,” our Prez says drily.
“Darlin’ ain’t my name.” She ignores Dex’s smirk as she looks at the thermometer. “Well, between his body temperature and the conditions in his home I’d say he’s been dead goin’ on 18 hours.”
“That easy, huh?”
“Easy as slippin’ past a fool.”
Dex smiles. “Alright then. Anything else we need to know?”
She fixes first Dex, then the rest of us with a stare, “What do I look like? A medical examiner? I’m just a simple businesswoman.”
I roll my eyes and try to cover my smile. “Ain’t nothing simple about you, Miss Nancy.”
“Got that right.” She winks as Damian groans behind her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I got work to do.”
Dex nods once, all business. “What do we owe you?”
“Ain’t nothing. Just take care of my bebe, and keep him outta trouble.”
“Will do.” Dex glances around the room, “I’m calling church when we get back. Let’s ride out.”
I follow my brothers out, and I can feel the weight of their gazes.
“Shit’s about to hit the fan boys,” Saint murmurs.
“Yup. Right when we got this Hitchens shit going on,” Omen adds.
“I know which shit I’d rather be facing.”
They nod, agreeing with me. I’ll take 100 men like Hitchens before I’d want to wade back into Eden’s Keep bullshit. Unfortunately, it looks like it’s coming for us, whether we like it or not.
Loyal
I never thought the sound of motorcycle pipes would ever be soothing, but for some reason, hearing their roar getting closer and closer settles something inside me. It means that the men should be home, and with them, Vex.
Ever since the meeting with Sniper and Justice I’ve been feeling out of sorts.
Isn’t it odd that I was fine taking on the twins and their safety, but once Eden’s Keep rears its ugly head I am hurtled back to a time I thought I had moved on from.
It seems that your body does remember everything. Every slight, every hurt, every danger.
The door opens and there he is, dark hair a mess from the wind and where he’s been running his fingers through it.
His gaze is wild, but only to me. To everyone else he looks calm and collected, but I’ve known Vex since we were children.
I know his tells. The way he holds his mouth, how he sets his shoulders, the way his fingers flex before they clench.
His body is telling me that whatever is going on, it’s not good.
His eyes land on me and I’m moving toward him without thought, almost as if we’re magnets. My cute sneakers that I chose myself meet his heavy, scuffed boots and he wraps his thick arms around me, burying his nose into my neck and holding me as if he’ll float away if he doesn’t.
“Eden’s Keep?” I whisper, trying to contain the slight tremor in my voice. He doesn’t reply, just nods and tightens his arms as Dex yells, “Church, including prospects.”