I said nothing as I watched Fiona nod before she leaned forward and chastely kissed Rome on his cheek. “Thank you for that. I needed to hear it.”
“Anytime.”
Getting up from the couch, I watched as Fiona dried her eyes and left the living room, disappearing behind a bedroom door. Turning back to my cousin, I saw he was now standing in front of the windows, his back stiff with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked out into the darkness of the Shenandoah Mountains. “Never in my life have I ever been so disgusted with my sex. Tonight, I am ashamed of the male species. Josie, that young lady has been through hell and back. Suffered and survived as no child should ever have to. She is screaming for someone to love her, and some asshole broke her heart tonight. I want to find the little bastard and wring his neck.”
Walking over to my cousin, I wrapped an arm around his waist as I leaned my head against his shoulder. “You can’t protect her all the time, Rome. You’ll be going home to Diamond Creek after the wedding. Then what? I don’t think your club president will allow you to stay here and follow a teenage girl around. ’Cause let’s face it, that will get your butt thrown into jail fast. Then where will she be?”
“It just ain’t right, Josie.”
“She’s young and resilient. She’s stronger than she looks and with two big brothers, a full clubhouse and people that care about her, trust me, she will be just fine. Adolescence is hard. We’ve all been through it.”
“She’s mine, Josie,” Rome whispered.
“What?”
Rome turned and looked at me. “I know it sounds crazy, but I just know. I knew it the second I saw her. Something hit me hard. You’ve heard the stories about the La Croix family curse.”
I slowly nodded. The stories were well-known in and around New Orleans. We’d all heard them growing up. The La Croix family curse. Blessed with unwavering beauty, descendants of the La Croix family were destined to meet the love of their life at a young age. But with love came heartbreak. The trials and tribulations they suffered tested the bounds of love and only the strongest La Croix heart would win. I remembered listening to my mom tell me the story of the La Croix curse and dreamed of one day meeting my destined love. Only that never happened and when my mom died, I stopped believing in fairytales.
I just never thought Rome believed.
“My own momma. She was barely fifteen when my dad laid eyes on her, and when she turned eighteen, he married her. Aunt Marabella, Wade’s momma, was seventeen when she wed Sean Crawley. Hell, Auntie Gail ran away with Uncle John to get married. They were barely seventeen themselves. For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard stories about the La Croix family. I just never thought it would happen to me.”
“Rome, she’s barely seventeen.”
He nodded. “I know, and it’s a good thing I’m going home after the wedding, because I don’t trust myself not to take her away from all of this heartache. She deserves better than what I can give her. My life ain’t easy. Jack and Blade have beenkeeping me abreast of what’s happening in the underworld. It ain’t pretty. Promise me something, Josie?”
“Anything.”
“Keep an eye on her. Be there for her when I can’t. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it because I know there will come a day when I take her from everything she knows. I’ve seen my future in her eyes and it’s beautiful. Don’t know what I did in this life to deserve her, but she is mine, and no one is taking her from me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Gator
New Orleans, Louisiana.
Walking down the steps of The Bourbon Bar, I yawned and scratched my stomach, the bright New Orleans sunlight doing little to wake me up after a long night of, well, being the king of this here kingdom.
I, Wade Crawley, aka Gator, president of the Bourbon Kings Motorcycle Club, was feeling a little worse for wear, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that to anyone.
The night before was a blur of jazz, bourbon, and beautiful ladies.
Okay, maybe not a blur. I remembered it all clearly, but my head was still buzzing a little. Or maybe that was the sound of the bar itself, always humming with life and energy. This place was my baby, and I ruled it with a relaxed, whiskey-soaked fist. The only rules here were my rules, and they were damn simple: drink, have fun, and don’t cause no trouble.
Stepping over a passed-out patron, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself.
Hell, I’ve been there, done that, and probably will again.
My town had a way of getting to you, and by ‘getting to you,’ I meant making you want to party like there was no tomorrow.
New Orleans, my beautiful lady, sure knew how to show a guy a good time.
Stretching my arms above my head, I took a moment to appreciate the town I called home. The sun shone brightly, butit didn’t bother me. I was too busy soaking in the sights and sounds of my city. The colorful buildings, the street musicians, the smell of beignets wafting through the air—damn, I was hungry. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I needed to fuel up for whatever the day had in store for me, and knowing my city, it was going to be memorable.
Standing on the sidewalk, my thoughts turned to the night before. Jazz, bourbon, and beautiful ladies—the recipe for a perfect New Orleans evening. And of course, my bar, The Bourbon Bar, was the perfect place for it all to come together.
I sure knew how to throw a party. But now, in the cold light of day, I couldn’t help but feel a little... fuzzy. Not the warm, fuzzy feeling of a job well done, but the fuzzy feeling, like a tingle of something coming. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I knew something big was coming.
