7. Wraith
Wraith
T his woman. That was all I could say. I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable with someone without wanting to send them to a permanent sleep. She had me thinking things I never believed could happen for me. I gave up on happiness a long ass time ago. I was just out here living, or my version of it. Yeah, my brothers with the club gave me a family, but what harbored deep within me, was different all together. Something I was too afraid to even fathom.
Zaire gave me directions before we left the restaurant and since I knew the city well, I gave her a look when she called off her address. It was Uptown and not far from my very own home in The Garden District. It was an affluent neighborhood known for its historic charm that tended to suck the people in who was into that type of stuff. The real point of it all was that the salary of a librarian couldn't afford the homes near there unless they got paid really well. Which for me, only confirmed what she said about her family. She was definitely a Brooks. Still didn’t mean I wouldn’t check out her background. There was something else about her attack that bothered me. A lot of things were bothering me lately and I didn’t like when my calm was disturbed.
It didn’t take us long to get to her home. She had a nice looking house that was painted a shade of gray with black shutters. Her yard was well manicured with rose bushes and other type of plants in the flowerbed. There were a couple of trees but they were still younglings, nothing old like what was in front of my house. Overall, it was a nice house that suited her. The type of house that would be perfect for families.
When we pulled up to her place, I killed the engine. Zaire was slow to remove her arms from around my waist, but eventually she did and automatically I missed the feeling. She slid off the bike with the type of grace of someone who had been riding for years. And according to her, this was only her second time on a motorcycle. But I didn’t immediately follow her. Something about the night still felt… off. I couldn’t shake the sense that there were eyes on us, watching from the shadows.
“Give me a few seconds,” I said, stepping off the bike.
Zaire frowned but nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
“Stay right here. I’m going to walk around, make sure everything is as it should be.”
She stepped to the side as I went and scanned the area. The street was quiet, too quiet for my liking. Old instincts kicked in, and I moved toward her porch and front door. I checked for anything that seemed out of place. Made sure the windows, the locks, even the rose bushes nearby didn’t seem tampered with. I walked around to the side of her house and then to her backyard, hopping the gate and scanned the well lit space. It was probably nothing, but one could never be too careful. After a few minutes, I made my way back to where she waited. Still didn’t get rid of the feeling we were being watched.
She stood there holding the bag of leftovers that I had shoved into my saddlebag in one hand and had her personal bag or purse in the other. Zaire raised an eyebrow. “Are we good?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” I said, meeting her gaze.
“You do this often? I mean, after tonight, I don’t mind you looking out for me like that. I probably wouldn’t have remembered to check everything even though my daddy burned that training into my brain growing up.”
“Living my life, it became a force of habit,” I said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We shouldn’t linger out here in the open like this where we could be marked as targets. We should probably go inside.”
There was a comfortable silence between us as she led me up to the porch. Following close behind her, I did my best to look around instead of being distracted by that delicious looking ass on her. It had a little jiggle when she moved and it was just the way I liked. I prayed to every god or deity out there asking for strength of composure, and to keep my mind out of the gutter where it lived. Her safety came first. It would always come first if it was left up to me. That’s what I kept telling myself instead of drooling at the mouth.
I was slowly realizing I didn’t want anything to ever happen to her and that was a promise, no a vow I had made to myself. Even if she didn’t know the vow existed. She dug her keys out of her bag. Once she unlocked it, I moved in front of her, blocking her from going in before me. There was no way in hell I was going to let her go inside without me checking everything out first. If those men knew where she worked, they sure in hell knew where she lived. I wasn’t going to have her go inside to get caught up by a bullet. Not on my watch.
“I wasn’t going to let you go inside without making sure you were safe. I got you,” I told her. “It’s okay to be careful. It’s better than being dead.” Zaire said nothing but I could tell from the way she looked at me, she was wondering who the hell I really was.
The first thing I heard once inside was her cat and its loud meows. Although it was dark, Zaire had motion detection night lights in the hallway. They started to come on, although, I couldn’t see the reason for them being triggered.
Then I heard the soft, tinkling sound accompanied with the swift sound of paws hitting the wood floor. I knew it had to be Ms. Beowtch because she had a bell on her collar and it was jingling with each little step. Zaire flicked the light switch on the wall which completely illuminated the space. My eyes quickly adjusted while I watched her sit the bag on the floor.
But it was when she bent over, good god almighty, my brain must have misfired. It was the most perfect angle. I could do so many things to her from this way, but my favorite would be to take her from behind while tightly gripping her waist. It was one of those views that burned into my memory for later. I had an itch that needed scratched and unfortunately I was getting the sinking feeling the club skanks wouldn’t be able to alleviate the pressure that was building within me. After getting my mind back right, I noticed she was talking to something, so I stepped around her and cocked my head to the side. She had bent over to love on the cat. Atleast I hoped it was a cat. The animal was huge.
“That’s the biggest fucking cat I’ve ever seen in my life!” I was shocked at the creature with it’s long black fur, fluffy tail, and bright green eyes. Ms. Beowtch was a magnificent looking feline. Well groomed and taken care of. She even wore a shiny collar around her neck with the bell dangling from it. I looked closer at the collar then back at Zaire. “Is that a diamond collar?”
Zaire looked up at me and grinned. “Yup. Custom made. Only the best for my baby.”
“She’s spoiled rotten, isn’t she?”
With a smirk, she said. “Nope. She just knows what she wants and what she likes.”
The cat left her side and padded her way towards me. She sniffed my foot, then my legs. She walked between them before doing a full walk around me, then when she made it back to the front, she bumped up against me.
Watching the cat, I asked her, “Did I pass your scrutiny?”
Ms. Beowtch meowed at me. Her tail was straight up with the tip curved like it was question mark.
“Huh,” Zaire said, like she was surprised at the interaction.
“What is it?” I squatted and began to rub Ms. Beowtch’s head then moved on to giving her ear scritches. She began to purr really loud.
“Her tail like that. It means she’s happy. She likes you. She doesn’t like most people unless she’s around them for a while. She doesn’t even go near them. She hisses and run or just doesn’t come out.”
“See, told you I’m good to pussies,” I said with a laugh.
Zaire rolled her eyes but laughed with me. “You don’t stop, do you?”
“Not when I want something.” The silence between us was loud. She cleared her throat, the tension between us growing even thicker. Ms. Beowtch let me pick her up and I continued to love on her. I’ve always loved animals, but my lifestyle didn’t allow me to own one. It wouldn’t have been fair. I was constantly on the road, rarely home. They deserved more than a sometime companion. Now this kitty had me rethinking that. I was stable enough. I could get one. Maybe a kitten.
“Where’s the kitchen. We’re late feeding her dinner, aren’t we Ms. Beowtch,” I said to the cat while nuzzling her with my face.
“Never thought I’d ever see her like this with a stranger. Just… wow.” Zaire picked up the bag with our leftovers and Ms. Beowtch’s to go meal. “It’s this way.”
I held on to the cat and we trailed behind Zaire to the kitchen, while I was still loving on the cat. Once in the spacious kitchen, I let Ms. Beowtch down and she rubbed against my leg before going to her human. “What kind of cat is she, anyway?”
“She’s a Maine Coon. Had her ever since she was a kitten. She’s about twenty pounds. A little larger than most female Maine Coons, but it’s totally okay. I thought about getting her a companion for when I’m working but haven’t gotten around to it. Honestly, I don’t know how she would take another cat around here. Especially a feisty kitten. She can be a bitch.”
“Hence the name,” I said.
She laughed. “Yup.”
I stood there and watched as Zaire prepared Ms. Beowtch’s meal. Soon as the salmon came out, she went wild for it. My brother was also considerate. He had a couple of cats and a dog at his home, so he prepared the food just like he would for his cats. Some of the salmon was diced up in bite sized, perfectly kitty sized pieces. He had like three different containers for multiple meals and even had some type of gravy sauce poured over it.
“Ooh, your brother really outdid himself,” Zaire said after opening one of the containers.
Her bright smile evoked a pang of jealousy within me, longing for the chance to be the cause of her joy rather than my brother. Unsettling thoughts flooded my mind, accompanied by the subtle undercurrent of jealousy that I couldn't shake. There was no reason for me to be feeling the way I was. I knew my brother. He wouldn’t move in on someone I claimed as mine.
But she wasn’t mine was she? Did I even want something like that? Possibly with her. Exhaling a heavy breath, allowed a calm to rush over me. With the desire to be by her side, I moved closer until our bodies were almost touching. Towering over her by a few inches, I leaned in closer and breathed in the sweet, but warm floral scent that surrounded her.
She picked up a plate from the countertop that had fish bones and a black cat’s face designed on it. She emptied one of the containers onto the plate and took a fork, then spread the food around. Ms. Beowtch’s meows became even louder and urgent.
“Oh, quit your fussing,” Zaire said. “You act like you didn’t have access to your dry food all day.”
Once she was done preparing the food, she sat the plate down on the small table with grooves for the plate. The cat ran right to it, growling at the same time, then got quiet when she realized she had a delicious treat in front of her.
“Is this an everyday thing?” I asked, curious as I leaned against the island in the center of her kitchen.
She stood up and that beautiful smile was still on her face. “Yeah, it’s an everyday thing, but you know, I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I love that grouchy animal. She’s like my emotional support animal. My furbaby.”
“Hmm. Must have a lot of issues if you need one of those,” I said under my breath.
Amused, she shook her head and motioned for me to follow her, so I obliged. It gave me the opportunity to really observe her home and her without scrutiny. She was a clean and neat person. There was nothing out of place, which actually fit her. The inside of her home was beautiful. Just as she was. She led me down the hall and when we took a right, it opened up into an open living room space.
“If you only knew,” she pointed to an empty chair. Then she sat down on the comfier looking couch and crossed those sexy legs of hers. She studied me, her brown eyes catching the low light. “Sit anywhere. Let’s finish our conversation. I find myself curious about the man, Rainier Batiste, and his alter ego, Wraith. I think you owe me that much.”
Her tone was soft, not accusing. She wanted answers as she had the right to have. I went and sat in the chair in front of her. I brushed a hand over my beard, leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, then sighed. After a moment of a silent stare down, I continued my story from earlier at the restaurant. “Technically, I’m from here. Born and raised in New Orleans, but after my parents died, I left here, vowing I would never come back. Too many memories. I moved around a lot and after a few pitstops, I landed in Miami. Learned a new trade and was there ever since. Until about five years ago. My brother asked me to come back home, so I did.”
“What type of work did you do in Miami?”
“A little of this and a little of that. Some freelance work. I’m a creative.” I told her, not giving her any details about what I really did. I couldn’t tell her about the Revenants. That I was a contract killer for hire. That I retired after the last job I took did a toll on my mentals. It was good pay. Enough to have me set for life, no longer needing to do that type of work. But taking out an entire crime family was exactly that. I lot of fucking work. I didn’t know why, but somehow I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass. I was right.
“What kind of creative? You’re being very vague, Rainier.”
Her sultry voice was such a turn on. The way she said my name. Fuck! I loved how it rolled off her tongue and lips. Slowly, I counted to five before I spoke again, getting my head right. “Besides bartending, I am a chef.”
She sat up. Her eyes widened with surprise. “No shit! Seriously? You… can cook?”
“Yeah, I can throw down in the kitchen if I need to. My mother taught me how to cook when I was a little boy. She was a damn good cook. French cuisine. My father was from the bayou around these parts so he taught us how to cook dishes he grew up with. Cajun dishes and between him and my mother, the fusion was perfect. After graduating high school, I went to culinary school. Graduated and then went down a different path after some events happened. I don’t regret it. When my brother suggested I open up The Grotto, I agreed and moved back home to do just that.”
“How interesting,” she said, resting her chin in her hand. “A different path. Does this have anything to do with your bike gang?”
“No.”
“Really? How long you’ve been with them?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been part of Sin City MC for about four or five years now. Joined around the same time I moved back home.”
“Were you in a bike gang back in Miami?”
I knew what she was doing. She was trying to get the information I wasn’t saying out loud. Got to hand it to her. She was smart as hell. Cunning. Beautiful. Feisty. Perfect little firefly.
“Nope. I was in some other stuff. And before you ask, let’s just make it clear, I can’t tell you about any of it. Even if you ask, I can’t do it. I can’t put you in jeopardy like that. Even though I’ve stopped doing what I was doing, others still see me as a threat and would do whatever to get at me. I can’t imagine anything happening to you. I’d burn this motherfucker down.”
Her eyes searched mine as she wrestled with all the info I dumped on her. She sat back, processing. “You don’t even know me like that.”
“Doesn’t matter. Sometimes it feels like… even though you don’t know somebody you just met, you just know there’s something about them that draws you in.”
A thoughtful expression crossed her face. A faint smile graced her lips. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
A sudden buzzing sound filled the silence and it took me a second to realize it was my phone. I shoved a hand in my pocket and pulled it out. There were three messages. One from Kade, one from Jester, and one from Loki. Quickly, I glanced at the messages and frowned. It was a notification for Church. A last minute meeting never boded well. There was some shit going down and I had to go. Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I stood and rubbed the back of my neck. I didn’t want to leave her. Although everything seemed safe, I still didn’t trust those assholes not to try and snatch her up again.
“I’ll be fine. I promise,” she said, reading my mind. “I’m going to call my father, then my best friend. They’ll know how to help me.
Her father was far away and I didn’t know about this friend, but if they were in town, she needed to get them over as soon as possible. I had no choice and had to believe she would be okay. She unfolded herself from her seat and walked me to the door, her presence and her sweet, mouthwatering scent wrapped around me. As I stepped back from the door, I couldn’t shake the tension between us. It wasn’t from the threat that lingered over us, no this threat was from inside. Standing this close to her, the pull between us wasn’t something I couldn’t ignore.