Page 11 of Cognac Secrets
“Everyone needs sleep, darlin’,” I said and the light, pet name slid right off my tongue entirely too easily.
Her warm smile turned into a cheeky grin and she said to me, “See you around maybe, Bennie.”
“Look,” I said. “Now Ireallyfeel like I owe you.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of my rumpled business cards with nothing but my burner number on it. “You need anything, and I mean anything at all, you gimme a call. You don’t have to. Only if you want to, or need to… as for running into each other again?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Who knows? Stranger things have happened.” I raked her one last time with my gaze, wondering if Iwouldever see her again, or if she would reach out.
“Thanks for walking me in,” she said softly, taking the card from me, and I nodded.
“No problem,” I told her, and she shut the door, locking it from the inside. I buried my hands in my pockets and watched her disappear behind the old, rippling glass and into the dark of the shop.
I bowed my head, letting it bounce, and nodding to myself, started back up the street after noting the name of the shop.Mystic’s Dream.
I picked up my phone and called Saint. He grunted into the phone after almost six rings right before I expected it to kick over to voicemail.
“Bennie,” he demanded. “You good?”
“Yeah, man,” I said. “I’m good.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Decatur. Need a ride to get my bike.”
I heard a feminine voice ask a question and Saint grunt.
“I’m on my way,” he said. I heard a lilting whine and Saint said something sharp to her and the line disconnected.
I sighed and cracked my neck, rolling my shoulders, and turned back to look at the round shingle for theMystic’s Dreamabout three-quarters of the way down the block and sighed.
What a weird fucking night. But I think now, I knew why I’d mistaken Sandy as my long-lost love – those emerald-green eyes were haunted by a nameless and unspeakable deep pain, the same as Mia’s brown ones had been. A silent beseeching for someone, anyone, toseeher – a lonely heart calling out for freedom from her gilded cage.
At least Mia’s had been gilded. I didn’t think I could say the same for Sandy’s. I had to admit, I was intrigued by the dancing queen and I wasn’t sure how I would engineer it, but we’d somehow be meeting again.
I’d make sure of it.
Saint rolled up around twenty minutes later and I was less than enthused.
“You couldn’t bring your truck?” I asked when he held out a spare lid to me.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he declared. “I don’t particularly like this nut-to-butt shit either, but my truck blew it’s fuckin’ timing belt on Friday on the way back from the swamp and I ain’t had a chance to get in it yet.”
“Fuckin’ fantastic,” I muttered and jammed the helmet on my head, getting on behind Saint. He pointed his bike back out into the street and gunned it so I’d have to hold on, laughing like a lunatic as I cursed him the fuck out for it.
Dick.
Thankfully, he made short work of getting us to the club and inside its gates where my bike rested.
Things had been on the quiet side with the Bayou Brethren of late, but we didn’t think for a minute that any of that shit was over. Quiet like this usually meant the other guy was plotting somethingbig.
We just had to play “wait and see.”
“So, you get some?” Saint asked after shutting off his bike, his eyes watching me – worried. I shook my head.
“She was there when I woke up. Not sure what the hell you were thinking, leaving her with me like that. What if I’d hurt her?”
Saint barked a laugh.
“I think she would have survived getting belted,” he said. “Maybe taught her a lesson on how to stay in her lane. Not sure why you care other than she looks like some girl you once knew. At least, that’s what it seemed like anyway. You maybe want to talk about that?”
I leaned back against my bike and shook my head.
