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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

V elina…

The day was actually pretty nice. Almost, dare I say, normal . I wasn’t sure if letting Saint fuck me had been the brightest idea I’d ever had, but for as much as a sarcastic asshole as he could be, he did give a damn fine dicking – so there was that.

We went to a thrift store looking for a denim jacket and some jeans that were on the sturdier side. The jacket, unfortunately, remained elusive at the first thrift store, but I did find a nice pair of steel-toed boots – which was better than hiking boots – that looked fairly grunge/industrial. Which, if I had to go for a look, I would much prefer that to anything else.

I wasn’t a metal chick. Goth was too flowery for my tastes, but I damn sure didn’t want to look like hippy hiker California girl going into a biker bar around here.

Let’s face it, in the South? Nobody liked Californians – and I got it, believe me. Most of them had more money than sense, hadn’t really worked a day in their life, and no, it wasn’t lost on me that I’d done it too – but they were judgy as fuck.

We had lunch at an Italian place in Metairie – that I swore was run by the mob, but good God, the food was fantastic – before we carried on in our adventures looking to re-fashion me.

The second thrift store had a better selection of denim jackets, but the ones that I liked were lined and would be way too hot in the humid New Orleans’ summer heat.

I couldn’t resist, though. I took a wander down the aisle with the art and looked through the photo frames. I was not disappointed.

“What?” Saint had asked me when I found a particularly nice eight-by-ten frame, and I whimpered at how much I wanted it.

“I refurbish frames for the pictures I take and sell them as a whole art piece. The things I would do to this frame… it’s perfect.”

“It’s… gold,” he said, and he sounded non-plussed.

“It’s gold right now , but I would strip it, sand it, and paint it flat black.”

He cocked his head and asked, “What’d you put in it, though?”

“That I don’t know yet,” I said.

“Get it,” he told me.

“I’m on a tight budget,” I said.

“Get. It.” His tone brooked no argument and was as final as anything I’d ever heard. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Sir, yes, sir,” I said flippantly.

“Was that disrespect?” he asked with a bemused smile. “Thought I’d already fucked some of that out of you, but if you’re begging for a round two – that maybe can be arranged.”

I laughed and turned to follow him up to the registers with my treasure.

The third time was the charm. We’d found a pair of jeans or two that made my ass look good at the second thrift in addition to my treasure find of the frame, but it was at the third and final thrift of the day that we found a suitable jacket.

Actually, we found two suitable jackets.

One a light denim, and the other a clearly vintage, but still in wonderful shape, brown leather coat from the 1970s.

It wasn’t heavy, but it was nice, if a little thrift store musty – and we got that, too.

We’d taken my car – erm, cage , which I had been grateful for, but when we pulled up at the hotel, he said to me, “I’ll help you take this shit upstairs, switch into those other boots and put on a jacket. Now, we’re going for a ride.”

When he said we were going for a ride, I thought it was to the club, which it sort of was. We headed in that direction, pulled up just long enough for Cypress and LaCroix to get on their bikes, and then we turned right around and fell in with them, heading to God knows where.

Turned out, it was the swamp… again… although I couldn’t tell you if it was the same swamp we went and got my car part or if it was totally in the opposite direction.

All the swampland down around here looked the same to me.

It was dark by the time we pulled up outside the dilapidated house under the big old oak tree in the yard.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Cypress answered, “Oh, we ain’t there yet, Cher. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Wonderful , I thought to myself.

At least it was still light out, which wasn’t terribly much comfort because the light was starting to fail.

The three men walked me to a dock and a dingy of some kind moored to it.

“Cy, stay at the house,” LaCroix ordered. “Saint, with me.”

Saint got into the boat first and held out a hand to help me down into it. It rocked perilously, and I bit off a yelp as it shifted. Saint laughed and said, “Sit before you tip us.” I did, dropping to the middle bench and sitting, gripping the edge of the seat with a white-knuckled grip as we rocked while Saint took a seat at the bow of the little flat-bottomed boat. I didn’t honestly know what you called it.

LaCroix boarded next and dropped onto the seat back by the motor while Cypress unwound lines and helped us cast off, putting a booted foot against the side and giving us a shove away from the dock.

“See y’ after a while, y’all,” he called and waved as LaCroix thumbed a switch, and the boat’s motor tripped over itself to kick to life.

I swallowed hard as LaCroix steered us out into the wide, flat, shallow, dark waters. “Aren’t there alligators in here?” I asked.

“And water moccasins, and spiders, and all manner of creepy crawlies,” Saint affirmed behind me. “Just stay in the boat, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not used to being in places where the flora and fauna would like to eat you. I’ve got no problem staying my ass in the boat,” I replied. LaCroix, with his creepy blacked-out eyes, cracked a smile, which only made him more terrifying to look at, not less.

I carefully turned around on my seat to face forward and Saint instead.

The sun was getting low in the afternoon sky as things tipped on toward evening. I found myself catching my breath at the beauty of things as the light filtered through the cypress tree canopy and touched on the drapery of Spanish moss.

I pulled out my phone and asked, “It be alright with you, fellas, if I took some pictures of this?”

Saint looked over his shoulder past me, at LaCroix, and I swiveled my head on my neck to look too. LaCroix gave a single nod, and I smiled and turned back.

“Still photos only, no video,” he called from the back of the boat, and I nodded.

“Of course,” I called back.

I wished I had my good camera, but my phone would have to do.

I played with settings and took a few snaps, messing with filters and the like that I could. There was no signal to speak of out here, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t worried for myself.

I didn’t know how much I could or should trust these men, but I was willing to go out on a limb. What did I honestly have to lose?

My mother and siblings didn’t talk to me anymore, and Louie was gone already.

I turned forward and looked at Saint, curled in the bow of the boat, one hand braced on the lip of the side, staring out ahead of us. The patch on his back was on full display even though he was turned slightly to the side. It was such a striking image, I couldn’t help myself.

I took it for myself and spirited it away to upload to my cloud storage as soon as I got someplace with a signal.

I didn’t know where we were going or how far it would be. I tell you, I hadn’t expected our destination to be a house on a barge in the middle of the swamp, nothing around it for what was probably miles.

It looked cozy, the outside done in wood shake tiles, or whatever you called them, solar panels, and what looked like some raised garden beds off to one side.

Golden light spilled from the windows in the deepening gloom, and as we made our approach, the door to the place opened, and a woman slipped out from behind the screen door.

She was in jeans, her long red hair pulled high in a ponytail. She crossed her arms over her chest, and her flowy green peasant blouse strained across her shoulders.

“Hey, baby,” she called out, and I stiffened at first before I realized it wasn’t Saint she was talking to but LaCroix.

“That’s my little Alina,” he said when I looked back at him. Something about his hard face had changed, smoothing just a bit, becoming softer somehow just at the sight of her.

“Alina and Velina,” I said with a dry smile. “This should be fun.”

“How d’ y’ mean?” LaCroix asked.

I shrugged. “They sound so close I’m sure we’re both going to look up no matter who you’re actually talking to.”

“Ah,” was all he said.

He was a man of few words. I honestly liked that about him. Made him seem careful, I guess, and with what I was about to do, careful was going to be exceptionally warranted.

We pulled up to the barge and Saint used a handle like you would see at a set of pool steps to hoist himself up. He caught a line tossed by LaCroix and tied the skiff dinghy boat thing we rode in off at one of those horned boat moor things you saw on docks.

Hell, I didn’t know what any of it was called. Riverside was a way away from the ocean, and I was too poor to come into contact with boats regularly.

Closest I’d come was for a suicide cleanup on some McRich bastard’s yacht after he’d suck-started a .45. I’d had to scrub his brains off the expensive veneer wood paneling and priceless painting that’d been hanging behind him after he’d done what he did.

I never did find out the why of it.

Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t.

Saint reached down and helped me up onto the barge, and LaCroix followed us, sliding right on past us to pull the redhead into his arms and kiss her fiercely. A kiss she enthusiastically matched in fervor.

“I thought you’d never come home,” she murmured, and he smiled.

“Got enough supper cookin’ for four?” he asked her.

“You’re in luck,” she said. “I do.”

“That’s my girl,” he said. “Want you to meet somebody.” He turned so that she could take me in.

“Louie’s sister?” she asked, eyebrows going up.

“Shit.” Saint laughed. “Can’t keep anything from you girls, can we?” he asked.

“I guess that’s why my getting in among them is the perfect play,” I commented dryly.

“Didn’t say it was a bad idea, just stupid for so many reasons,” he said.

“You’re a braver woman than I am,” Alina followed him up, stepping half away from LaCroix to extend her hand.

I shook it.

I felt like I knew her already. Louie had talked about her a ton. About how she was kind, but tough. How LaCroix was literally obsessed with her, and how if there was anyone to respect attached to the club, it was her, but not like it was hard. He said Alina was just easy to like and/or love.

I smiled, and I knew it was cool. I just couldn’t instantly like anybody anymore. It just wasn’t how I was built. Trust issues, mommy issues, daddy issues for sure. Hell, I had a C-17 cargo jet full of fucking issues that were too many to list, and it kept me really guarded for the most part. It also kept me safe for the most part, too.

“Velina,” I said by way of greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said with appraising cool blue eyes.

I forced a smile, and she forced one, too. I guess it was all about getting to know one another after that.

“Come on inside, I’m starving,” LaCroix said, and Alina led the way. LaCroix opened the door for her and smacked her ass, making her jump and yip on her way through. I grinned, I couldn’t help it as I passed through, but LaCroix kept his hands to himself. So did Saint, and at this point in whatever it was we had going on, I was low-key glad for that.

The inside of the little house was as cozy as you’d imagine – the kitchen tucked back with a host of delicious smells emanating from a crock pot on the small counter space by the sink or the stove. The table was set for four, and there was a candle lit at its center. A salad bowl filled with leafy greens and a basket with a checkered napkin with some rolls waiting nearby.

“Sit,” Alina urged. “Beers?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll take one,” Saint said. LaCroix just nodded.

“Sure,” I said.

“I have wine if beer doesn’t do it for you,” she said.

“Wine would be great,” I said.

I took a seat at the table, and Alina came around with two plates loaded with some kind of pasta dish.

“Guest first,” LaCroix said when she went to serve him first. She served me, setting a plate in front of me, and then set the other before LaCroix.

“You’re not a guest,” she said to Saint with a wink. “You’ve been here before. You might as well be furniture.”

Saint laughed and nodded as she told us she’d be right back. She set two more plates down, one at Saint’s place and one at her own, and then returned with the boy’s beers after popping the tops.

Her last trip brought two glasses of white wine and then she sat.

“Help yourself to salad and garlic knots,” she said. “I’ve been dying for some company out here for the last day or two.”

“You stay out here all alone?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes Cor, Jessie-Lou, or Sandy will stay out here with me. It’s just been a quiet week this week to myself, though.”

I recognized the other names. Garnett had talked about them. Sandy or Sandrine was how he’d met True. I guess True was her best friend or something. Corliss was a teacher and Hex had been a janitor at her school, while Jessie-Lou was Cypress’s sister and had somehow wound up with Collier.

“I have to ask, and please, don’t think I’m being rude, because I’m not. But did you guys really start out as LaCroix stalking you ?”

I looked from LaCroix to Alina and back. LaCroix was unreadable, shoving a forkful of the cream pasta into his mouth and chewing carefully. Alina’s smile was somewhere between impish and chagrined.

“Uh, yeah,” Alina said with a little laugh. “Louie told you about that, huh?” she asked.

“Among other things,” I said with a smile, swallowing the cool, crisp sip of wine.

“Not sure I’m too keen on Louie running his mouth about our business.” LaCroix’s voice was deep but steady, and I sighed inwardly and nodded.

“It was all good things,” I promised him. “He loved you all like the family he never had until I showed up. And even then, we were still new to each other and just trying to learn. You guys were his whole world. What else was he going to talk about?” I asked.

LaCroix grunted and said nothing. Saint said, “Touché.”

“Don’t mind them,” Alina said, rolling her eyes for my benefit. “They’re an intensely private lot.”

“I can understand,” I said, putting some salad onto my plate. Looked like Ceasar. I wasn’t sad about that. It was my favorite if I had to eat a garden.

“What about you?” LaCroix asked. “How about you volunteer some information about yourself?”

“Babe!” Alina said sharply.

LaCroix’s eyes found hers, and something passed between them, but hey – had to hand it to the girl to be brave enough to stand up for me, even if I didn’t need her to.

She certainly earned some points with me for that.

“It’s a fair question,” I said, partially coming to LaCroix’s defense but more coming to Alina’s by taking the heat off her so-to-speak.

Saint sat by and said nothing, just speared food onto his fork and chewed silently. His eyes found mine, and there was a silent intensity there, as though daring me to share more.

“I was born and raised in Riverside. My dad was a drunk, a trucker, and a carousing piece of shit who was gone more often than he was home. But hey, that just probably spared us more of his ire and discipline, so it wasn’t really a total net loss in that respect.”

I cleared my throat.

“Apparently, when he wasn’t home, he was fucking anyone and everyone under the sun with a vagina. I’ve found six other half-siblings, not including Louie, and none of them wanted to have fuck all to do with me or him, which I can’t say that I blame them.

“My own family that I grew up with are pissed at me and not talking to me because I went looking after my dad died. It was sort of his dying wish that all his kids knew he was sorry. Too little, too late, if you ask me, but it’s not like anyone else was stepping up. I’ve got enough daddy issues that I’d give my non-existent left nut to have even one iota of his approval even though I disappointed him so by being a girl and not the son he wanted.

“I’ve got three other siblings by him and my mom. Rafe is the oldest and gay as the day is long, followed by Ophelia, me, and finally, Valencia. Mom’s still alive and in the same house. None of the sibs give a shit. She doesn’t give a shit, and I dunno, maybe that’s why Garnett and I clicked.”

I glanced at the three other faces around the table and said, “If you want to know anything else, all you really have to do is ask. I’m not always the best at volunteering information if I don’t have to, but I’m an encyclopedia as long as you crack the book.”

There was a gleam of something in Saint’s eyes as he stared at me. I glanced at LaCroix, and the same was there, just harder to discern with the way the sclera of his eyes was blacked out with ink.

“I guess we’ll see,” LaCroix intoned cryptically, and I nodded.

“Garnett didn’t let you down, and neither will I,” I said. “Especially considering that letting you down would let him down, and I’m not about to be another in a long line of rejects to do that. His mom, my dad, the system… you guys were there for him when no one else was. I want to be there too, even if it is too little too late.”

The rest of the meal sort of fell into silence after that, each of us under our own heavy mantle of thinking. All thoughts none of us really wanted to share, apparently.