Page 4 of Claim

Some of the guys I trained in my gym had fought in a competition in Houston. I’d decided to drive instead of fly, and take my newly restored car for a spin. I’d left the boxing competition this evening, but after I’d crossed the Louisiana border, I’d decided to find a hotel for the night, and drive the rest of the way home in the morning. Maybe get off the Interstate, and take a scenic route through the wetlands.

I could have found a nice hotel—I had the money—but I’d decided to go old school and find a motel where I could keep my car out front.

“I’ve always wanted to visit New Orleans.” Bell toyed with her coffee mug. “It sounds great.”

I laughed briefly. “Most people usually focus on the crime rate and the hurricanes.”

Her lips quirked. “I think of Bourbon Street, Mardi Gras, Cajun food, the bayou.”

“It has all those things. I think it’s a great city.”

My brothers and I did our best to help make it better. We were all successful, and tried to give back. We donated a lot of money to local charities and causes. We kept our little corner of New Orleans—a city block of the Arts/Warehouse District—crime free.

We weren’t afraid to tangle with assholes who stepped onto our turf. I flexed my hand under the table. We all had our businesses and homes there, and we did what we had to do to protect it. Yes, we’d done well for five abandoned boys who’d met in foster care.

Who’d shed blood, and had each other’s backs.

Older, uglier memories stirred. I let them. I never forgot where I came from.

Or who I came from.

“So, what’s in Florida?”

“The beach.” Bell smiled.

It lit up her face and my breath caught. Damn, she was beautiful when she smiled. I cleared my throat.

“I like the beach,” she continued.

“Plenty to like—sand, warm sun, cold beers. Although there are sharks and sunburn. Once, I was on vacation with my brothers. A fin popped up in the water, and I’ve never seen my brother Reath swim so fast. Turned out it was a dolphin.”

Bell laughed, then looked startled, like she hadn’t laughed very much lately. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Four.”

“Four. Wow. I bet your place was rowdy growing up.”

I lifted my chin, but didn’t mention foster care. Our last foster home hadn’t been pretty. Harvey Tucker had liked to beat boys in the name of discipline. Really, he’d just been a sadistic asshole.

“You have siblings?” I asked.

Her gaze dropped. “No. It was just me and my mom.”

Our coffee got refilled, and I kept the conversation light. Whenever things got too personal, Bell got skittish. We talked more about New Orleans, music, movies. I wasn’t much of a talker usually, but it was easy with her.

She was young and fresh, and clearly educated, despite the well-worn clothes. She should be starting her career and dating and going out with girlfriends, not doing whatever it was she was doing.

“We’re closing up soon,” Karen called out.

I lifted my chin. “Thanks.”

Bell was biting her lip, and looking outside. The drizzle of rain had increased to a steady shower. I knew the forecast said it was going to get worse.

“You staying at the motel next door?” I glanced out the window and could just see my car. “The place isn’t fancy, but it’s clean.”

“Um, the bus is coming through in a couple of hours.”

I stiffened. The diner was closing, and it was raining. Where the hell was she going to wait?

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