Something like the opportunity Dax is offering you?
Could I really stay in New Orleans and keep myself out of trouble?
And if Beau didn’t forgive me, would I really have that chance?
Eventually, sometime after the sun had fully risen, I fell asleep. I was disoriented as hell when I woke, thinking I was still out in the swamp. Then I remembered shooting Guidry to save Beau and Dax bringing me home.
My heart banged against my chest as soon as I thought of Dax.
He was as inspiring as he had been when I was a kid, but I couldn’t stay with him. No matter how much I wanted to. I needed to go figure things out for myself. Guidry wasn’t the only enemy I had to worry about. I’d managed to avoid contact with everyone from my old life for years, but I doubted that would be possible in New Orleans.
There was way too much criminal business conducted in the city, and much of it was run by men Rob had pissed off. Now that they couldn’t get back at him, they were likely to take revenge on me if they got the chance. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t wanted to do most of the things Rob forced me into. He’d fucked people over, and I’d been his associate.
I slipped out of bed and put my dirty clothes and my phone charger in my backpack. If Dax was here—and he’d said he would be—avoiding him wouldn’t be easy in the small house, but if there was one thing I was good at, it was running away. I’d only worn boxers to sleep, so I pulled on the clothes I had worn at breakfast, creeped across the room, and cracked the door. After several seconds of careful listening, I started to step into the hall. That’s when I heard Dax’s voice.
At first, I worried there was someone else in the house, then I realized he was talking on the phone. He was distracted, so it was the perfect time to slip out unnoticed. I moved silently down the hall, a skill I’d perfected quickly once Rob made me move in with him.
I was especially careful as I moved closer to Dax’s office. The door was slightly ajar. I tried to remember the layout of the furniture to determine whether he’d be able to see through the crack. I’d moved to the far side of the hall and pressed myself against the wall when I heard him say, “So I can’t kill him, but you want me to hurt him?…Can I leave marks on him?…Fine.”
I told myself to keep moving. I didn’t need to know who or what he was talking about.
3
Dax
I’d checked on Travis several times in the last two hours, but he was still sleeping soundly. I’d ignored two calls from Remington, and I knew sooner or later I was going to have to call him back. I was hoping I could wait until Travis was up and I’d had a chance to talk to him.
My instincts told me Travis was still in danger. I wasn’t sure why, but I’d learned to never go against a gut feeling. We were as certain as we could be that Elandra and Guidry didn’t have other accomplices, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Once I’d made myself some lunch, I sat down at my desk. I’d taken a short nap, but I knew if I didn’t do something, I would fall asleep again. I gave in and called Remington but left my office door cracked so I could hear if Travis was moving around. Remington would be pissed as hell if I hung up on him, but Travis was my first priority. I couldn’t say why I felt so strongly about him, but I knew he was meant to be my responsibility.
“What do you need?” I asked when Remington answered the phone.
“For you to fucking answer when I call you.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping? We all should be.”
Remington snorted. “I hardly have time to sleep on normal nights.”
“Yeah, but that’s Henri’s fault, isn’t it?” Henri was my cousin’s beautiful boyfriend, and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“Don’t push your luck. Is Travis still there?”
“Yeah, he’s sleeping.”
“Good.”
“He gets to sleep, but I don’t?”
“I’ve got things for you to do, and Travis is… young.”
“He’s older than Corbin.” Shit. Why did I sound so defensive? Remington wasn’t implying Travis was too young for me. Hopefully he had no idea I’d ever think of Travis that way.
“True.” Remington’s voice was too flat. What the hell was he thinking? “But last night was a lot for him.”
I could argue that being shot at in the alligator-infested bayou in the wee hours of the morning was a lot for anyone, except maybe Ambrose, but I didn’t want to talk about Travis anymore. “I was about to do some more digging on the assholes who’ve been fucking with our weapons suppliers.”