Page 77

Story: Duncan

This goddamnwoo wooshit down here was enough to drive anyone mad. No wonder everyone thought Cajuns were crazy.

They were fucking certifiable putting up with this voodoo shit, and spirits, and goddamn whispered warnings.

I pulled out my phone and found Rian’s number. It rang three times before he finally picked up.

“What the fuck took you so long to answer?”

“Sorry, boss, it’s loud on the street. Can’t always hear the ringing.”

“Freyja get home?”

“Yea. She’s staying in a cottage in the Quarter.”

“Is it safe?”

Rian was silent on the other end. The only noise coming through the phone were the sounds of the music and people on the streets around him.

“Is it fuckin’ safe?”

“Define safe, boss.”

“Jesus Christ. Could someone break in and hurt her?”

“Yes, sir. Easily.”

“Don’t fuckin’ move. You watch her until I get there. I don’t know when it will be, but if anything happens to her, it’s your ass, Rian.”

“Got it, boss.”

I disconnected the call and held the phone in my hand as I stared at it. Did I believe this shit? My eyes scoured the people around me. Thousands of people flocked here during Mardi Gras. Many of them this particular weekend.

Whether I believed the voice I heard or not didn’t matter. Freyja needed to be protected. My phone rang, and I lifted it to my ear.

“Get to the warehouse. We got him.”

About. Fucking. Time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Duncan

I entered the warehouse to find Oscar beating the shit out of Nolan Kelley. Someone had tied him to a chair, naked except for his goddamn underwear.

That meant Oscar was just getting warmed up.

Oscar swung again and hit Kelley in the nose. The force not only broke his nose, evidenced by the crack that echoed through the room, but it also knocked the chair over. Kelley landed on his back; his head hit the floor, knocking him out cold.

“Dammit, Oscar!” I stormed toward the man. “If you kill this son of a bitch before we get answers, I will feed you to the fuckin’ gators.”

“Relax, Dunc,” Sal advised. “Let him have his fun.”

“Oscar doesn’t know his own goddamn strength,” I muttered.

“Sorry, boss.” Opening a bottle of water, Oscar poured it over Kelley’s face until the man sputtered awake.

Sal shook his head. Amusement lifted from the corners of his mouth. Anyone observing my boss from a distance would think Sal was relaxed, enjoying watching the man who betrayed the family and cheated on his sister for years get his ass kicked.

But if they looked closer, they would see the small smile didn’t extend beyond his mouth. The lines framing his eyes didn’t come from joy. No, it was tension.