Chapter 8 #3
Lissette sat silently in the truck on the way to the next house, her heart swelling at Mrs. Paget’s reluctant acceptance.
She carried that warmth through the insults and accusations she found in the next three homes, not letting them get her down.
Her grandmother’s friend had been kind to her.
She was almost afraid to hope.
Dusk had settled over the bayou by the time they drove up to the last house call.
A weathered gray house stood on stilts next to a canal. Grass stood knee-high in the yard; an old camp trailer leaned on a flat tire; honeysuckle vines twisted around the hitch, hiding it from view.
A television blared so loudly that the home’s occupant didn’t hear Lissette knock. After two of her attempts, Xavier stepped around her, pounded his fist against the door and yelled, “Hello! Anyone home?”
The television volume diminished and several long moments later, a man as old, gray and weathered as the house opened the door. “You don’t have to yell,” he shouted. “I heard you.”
“Mr. Smith,” Lissette smiled. “Madame Gautier sent me to check on you and bring some food.”
Mr. Smith squinted down at Lissette. “Eh? What did you say?”
“I said,” Lissette took a deep breath and belted out, “Madame Gautier sent me with food.” She shoved the container into his hands. “A hurricane is coming. We might have to evacuate.”
“What’s this?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the container.
“Food!” Lissette yelled.
“You don’t have to yell,” Mr. Smith shouted. “I heard you. Is that all you have to say?”
Tired and getting hangry, Lissette nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Before she could take a step back, Mr. Smith closed the door in her face. A moment later, the volume on the television ratcheted up, nearly shaking the walls.
Lissette sagged against the doorframe and stared up at Xavier.
After everything that day, she could either cry or laugh.
The sick humor of all the encounters bubbled up inside Lissette and came out in a giggle, then a chuckle and, finally, full-on laughter that had her doubled over, clutching her belly.
Xavier chuckled, then laughed, too.
The laughter soon changed to tears, spilling down Lissette’s cheeks.
Xavier pulled her into his arms and held her on the porch of a weathered gray house.
They stood in the darkening night until her tears stopped flowing.
“I’m sorry,” she said and pushed away from him, scrubbing the moisture from her cheeks.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I made a rule back when I was ten that I’d never cry again.
” She looked up at him through her watery eyes.
“Guess that’s me. A rule breaker.” She lifted the ankle with the ankle bracelet.
“I wonder if they have something like this that keeps you from losing it in front of sexy men.”
He slipped an arm around her and walked her down the steps and to the truck. As he handed her up into the passenger seat, he grinned up at her. “So, you think I’m sexy, do you?”
She twisted her lips. “You caught me at a weak moment. Forget I said it.”
He shook his head. “Can’t. I’m sexy.” He closed the door and walked around the front of the truck with a shit-eating grin spread across his face.
When he climbed into the truck, he was singing, “I’m sexy, and I know it.”
She shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”
“No,” he said and shifted into drive. “I’m sexy, and I know it.”
He pulled out onto the road still singing.
Lissette laughed.
Ahead, a car sat on the side of the road with the hood up, and someone bent over the engine.
Xavier slowed.
“We should stop and render assistance,” Lissette said.
“I don’t know. Might be better to call the sheriff’s office and have them send someone out.” Xavier lifted his cell phone. “No service.”
The person bent over the engine straightened and raised a hand.
“It’s a woman,” Lissette said.
Xavier pulled up behind the car and stopped. “Stay in the truck.”
“No way.” Lissette reached for the door handle. “It’s been a while, but she looks familiar.”
Xavier shifted into park, left the engine running and stepped down from the truck. “Need a hand?” he called out.
The woman waved toward the engine. “It just died on me. I don’t know what’s wrong. Do you know anything about cars?”
As Xavier followed the woman to the front of the car, Lissette slid out of her seat and followed, her mind sifting through vague images of the woman drifting through her memories.
She couldn’t place her in Bayou Mambaloa. Was she from one of the neighboring towns like Bayou Miste?
No, that wasn’t it.
While Xavier stared into the engine compartment, the woman glanced back at Lissette, her eyes narrowing slightly.
That’s when it hit Lissette.
She recognized that almost calculating glance, having seen it before when she’d been escorted into Manny Marceaux’s crib in New Orleans.
That woman had been there, standing over his shoulder, whispering into his ear, the night he’d offered Lissette more money than she’d ever imagined.
All that money to take out the one person everyone compared Lissette against—Shelby Taylor.
She remembered too many teachers at the high school asking her why she couldn’t be polite like Shelby Taylor.
Or why she couldn’t turn in her homework like the class pet, Shelby Taylor.
Or why she couldn’t just once think of someone besides herself.
Shelby Taylor always took care of others before herself.
She’d had a recent run-in with one of Bayou Mambaloa’s judgmental biddies. Even though they weren’t in school anymore, the older gossiping lady had felt it was her responsibility to correct Lissette, to point out her faults and to compare her to the town’s favorite sheriff’s deputy—Shelby Taylor.
“Oh, shit. Xavier, don’t—”
A hand clamped over her mouth. Even more hands grabbed her from behind, lifted her off her feet and carried her into the darkness.
Lissette bucked and twisted, managing to free one leg. She swung it hard, connecting with someone’s hard head.
The hands on her right side loosened, and she tilted toward the ground.
Two men had her, one less inclined to hold on when she’d just kicked him in the face.
Instead of stiffening, she went limp.
As she dropped toward the ground, the guy on her left side stumbled, tripped and lost his hold.
Lissette hit the ground, rolled to the side and swept her leg out, catching the man behind his knees. He fell, smacked into his partner and sent him flying backward.
Lissette came up on her hands and knees and scrambled away, lurching to her feet.
She ran back toward the lights, the truck and Xavier.
He stood with a gun pointed toward his face; the woman Lissette had recognized too late smirked.
“Bitch!” Lissette yelled. “You hurt him, and I will commit murder. Your ass will be first in line.”
Xavier didn’t shift his gaze from the woman holding the gun. In a movement too quick for Lissette to make out, he slammed the woman’s arm down, took the gun, and pointed it at her.
The woman ducked and dove into the trees beside the road, probably banking on Xavier not firing into the darkness.
Xavier closed the distance between himself and Lissette. “Get in the truck.” He yanked open the driver’s side and stood with the gun pointing outward.
Lissette slid into the cab and climbed over the console into the passenger seat.
Xavier got in and closed the door. “Stay down,” he said and slipped low in his seat as he slammed the shift into drive and floored the accelerator.
The truck leaped forward.
A loud bang sounded. The back window shattered as a bullet blew through it and through the front windshield, leaving a small hole. Had Xavier been sitting up straight, it would have hit him in the head.
Lissette’s heart lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard and ducked lower. “Go faster!” she urged. “A lot faster.”
“On it,” Xavier said. “They’re following us. Stay low and call the sheriff.”
Lissette took his cell phone and checked for reception. “Damn it. No reception.”
Thankfully, they were nearing town.
A single bar blinked on.
Lissette hit 911.
“They turned off,” Xavier said, his foot easing off the accelerator as they passed the first house on the edge of town.
“I’m still calling.” Lissette held the phone in a death grip as she reported the incident. The dispatcher was still asking questions when Xavier turned into the sheriff’s department parking lot.
They spent the next fifteen minutes filing a report and answering questions.
By the time they left, Lissette felt like she’d run a full marathon. She leaned back against the seat of his pickup. “I’m sorry about your truck.”
He shot a glance her way. “Why?”
“It’s my fault they shot at it.”
“Did you pull the trigger?”
“No, but I might as well have. You and your truck wouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire if you weren’t helping me.” She shook her head. “That’s it. Our deal is off. I’m leaving you here. I don’t want your protection.” She fumbled for the door handle.
Xavier leaned across the console and placed his hand over hers. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “I told you I would protect you. Hell, I’m the one who failed. They almost had you, and I did nothing to stop them.”
“You had a gun pointed at you.”
“You fought off two men.” He caught her cheeks between his hands. “I nearly died when I saw them hauling you off. My bad decision nearly got you killed.”
She stared into his eyes. “But it didn’t.”
“But it almost did.” He shook his head from side to side. “I can’t fail again.”
Lissette stared into his tortured eyes. “You won’t.” She wrapped her hand behind his head, brought him close and kissed him. “You won’t,” she repeated against his mouth.