Page 74 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Burke had been awake for hours, but he hadn’t opened his eyes.

As soon as he did, he’d have to start the day. And starting the day meant remembering the night before.

When he’d taken down his oldest friend.

His brother.

Who’d sold teenagers into sexual slavery.

Who’d tried to have the children of Burke’s friends kidnapped.

Who’d had Naomi imprisoned.

Who’d tried to kill Naomi.

Who tried to kill me.

Who’s hated me for a very long time.

He wasn’t sure which of those things hurt the most. It was one big ache in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

It was shock, he knew. And grief. And betrayal.

The shock would fade and the grief would process. The betrayal, though…

He didn’t know how long it would take for that to subside.

The only good thing to have come from this debacle was the woman in his arms.

She’d been awake for a long time as well. Not as long as Burke, but at least an hour. He’d known exactly when she woke. Her body had gone stiff, her breathing rapid and shaky.

She’d awakened from a dream.

He should have asked what it was about, but he just couldn’t manage to break the silence. Instead, he’d gathered her to him, urging her to lay her head on his shoulder.

She’d come willingly, settling her hand over his heart.

They hadn’t done anything sexual in the hours since André had brought them home. Burke had made sure that his people knew he was all right—physically anyway—before heading to his bedroom.

He’d seen their devastation on his behalf. And he appreciated their love and care. But he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. He’d only wanted solitude.

Sleep.

Peace.

Naomi had put him to bed, sitting with him until exhaustion had finally pulled him under.

The next thing he’d known, she was in the bed beside him, sleeping with her hand in his. He’d held her hand like a lifeline.

And let the minutes tick by. Dawn had broken long before and he could smell coffee and bacon. His people were waking up. This would be their last morning together in his house. Now that the danger had passed, they’d all be going home.

It would be too quiet again.

Naomi lightly stroked the hair on his chest. “I need to get up, Burke.”

He swallowed hard and continued to say nothing at all.

She didn’t sigh. Didn’t huff. Didn’t nag.

She leaned up and kissed him softly on the mouth. “But you can hold the day at bay for a little longer. I’ll keep your people from knocking on your door as long as I can.”

She went to get out of the bed, but he tugged her back to him. “I don’t want to go downstairs,” he confessed quietly.

She kissed his forehead. “I know. It makes it real.”

That she understood was no surprise. After all she’d been through, Naomi Cranston possessed empathy that left him in awe.

“I can’t handle reality yet.”

She kissed him again, sweet and comforting. It felt like a promise. “They know that. They don’t want you to be their boss right now. They just want to show you that they love you.”

His eyes stung. She gently swiped a fingertip across his eyelids, gathering the tears that managed to escape.

“He was your brother, Burke. And he hurt you. You’re allowed to be sad. You’re allowed to grieve. You’re even allowed to hide in your room. Just not forever.”

He cleared his throat, but no words would come.

“Molly was frantic yesterday when we couldn’t find you. She stared at that whiteboard, looking so lost.” Her thumb caressed his cheek as she added wryly, “I think she might even have wrinkled her blouse.”

A snort of laughter bubbled up. How quickly she’d come to know his people. The people who never would have stopped searching for him.

The laughter abruptly changed, his chest heaving with a sob he couldn’t hold back.

He’d often thought that Kaleb was the only family he had left, but he’d been so wrong. Molly and Antoine, Lucien and Val. Phin. Joy. They were his family.

Once the first sob broke free, it was like a floodgate opening and he could only lie there, gasping as he cried loud, ugly sobs he was sure the whole house could hear.

Naomi put her arms around him. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and cried.

She didn’t tell him that it would be all right. She didn’t offer a single platitude. Only comfort.

Finally, he shuddered out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not one person waiting downstairs will think an iota less of you. They think you are the strongest man they know, but they’ve all been through troubles. They know that strength isn’t absolute.”

She pulled away and he felt her wipe her own cheeks. She’d cried along with him. That finally made him open his eyes.

Her eyes were wet and slightly swollen, but she was still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“All of it. Trusting me to keep you safe. Saving my ass.”

“Twice,” she said cheekily.

“Twice,” he repeated soberly. “For knowing what I needed. For taking care of my people. You did that last night while I was asleep, didn’t you?” Because somehow he knew that was true.

She nodded. “They were…agitated. Upset.”

“What did you do?”

She chuckled. “We dragged Molly’s whiteboard to the living room and brainstormed ways we wanted to punish Kaleb.

It got a little dark, to be honest, but I think they needed to get it out of their systems. It was something we used to do inside.

We’d talk about the people who’d hurt us and fantasize retribution.

And then we’d talk about the people we’d hurt, fantasizing redemption.

And then we’d make lists of all the things we’d do when we got out to heal ourselves and the people we’d wronged.

A lot of us knew it was futile, that we’d never be forgiven.

Some of us would never get out. I wanted to tell Everett everything, but I knew that he’d be nearly forty when I got out.

He’d want nothing to do with me. I still fantasized.

It…helped. But you don’t have to fantasize about redemption.

You didn’t do anything wrong. You can think all you want about retribution. ”

“Kaleb’s going to prison.”

“For the rest of his life,” she agreed.

“I don’t…” He swallowed hard. “I should want him to suffer. He hurt so many people. All those kids. I should be fantasizing about him burning in hell. About what the other inmates will do to him. But I can’t.”

“That says so much about the good in you.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do. It’s easy to want someone to suffer. It’s much harder to show compassion.”

“Will I ever forgive him?”

“If you don’t, I certainly won’t think less of you.”

“The boys.” Braden and Trent. “They’re going to need me.”

“They will. And you’ll be there for them.” She kissed his forehead again. “First, gather your own strength, however you need to do it. You know that thing flight attendants say?”

“Put on your own mask before you help others.”

“Yep.” She gently tugged her hand free. “I’m starving. I couldn’t eat last night, and I’ll get cranky soon.”

He drew her down for one more kiss. “Go eat. I’ll shower and come down. I’m starving, too, now that you mention it.”

“Good.” She climbed out of his bed and he realized she was wearing a set of his sweats, with the sleeves and cuffs rolled up.

It made him smile. “You look awful pretty this morning, Naomi Cranston.”

“Thank you, Burke Broussard. You’re looking mighty fine yourself.”

She crossed the room and he saw the shudder shake her when she opened the bedroom door. She lifted her face to the sun that flooded the hallway, and he was struck once again by her strength.

She hated closed doors, but she’d tolerated them because she’d wanted to be with him. Once everyone had gone home, he wanted her back in his bed and they’d keep the door wide open.

That was one benefit to a quiet house, he thought, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had his people to see to. Their comfort to receive.

His family to hug and love, and their love to accept in return.

And then he’d face Juliette and the boys and do what he could.

—

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Friday, February 28, 9:15 a.m.

Burke found his lead team and their families eating breakfast at his dining room table. On one side of the table were Molly and Gabe, Chelsea, Lucien, and Harper. Antoine and André sat side by side, for once not bickering.

Ruthanne, James, and Eleanor sat with Everett on the other side of the table. Naomi had taken her place next to the only open chair—the one at the head of the table that was his.

Czar and Elijah’s dog, Delilah, lay at the front door, snoring. That made Burke smile.

He was relieved beyond measure to see that Val was back from the hospital, Kaj hovering protectively. Jace sat on her right, Elijah on her left. Both boys leaned into her, keeping physical contact as they ate. Sylvi had also joined them, and she watched her sister like a hawk.

Joy sat at the other end of the table, and Burke was so happy to see her face. He was happy to see each and every face.

Harrison and Devonte were off duty and both had gone home to their families to rest up.

The only people missing were Phin and Cora. He made a mental note to visit them. Phin was probably making Cora rest.

Chatter ceased as Burke stopped at his chair. He saw concern, sympathy, and, on the faces of the children, residual fear. He hated that.

“Mornin’,” he said with a smile that was small but genuine. “You can all stop worrying about me.”

But it didn’t have the impact he’d hoped. There was a melancholy hanging in the air and he wondered if it was because they’d heard him cry.

Naomi was the only one who smiled at him, pride in her eyes.

Val slowly rose, her expression stricken. “I’m sorry, Burke,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry I let you get taken.”

He wasn’t having that. Not from Val. Not from any of the family who worried about him. Who loved him.

Burke opened his arms and Val met him halfway. For a long moment they clung to each other.