Page 75 of Highball and Chain

Enzo

The warm,humid air wrapped around me like a wet blanket as I stood outside the car. I drew a deep breath and allowed the musky scent of the Mississippi River, the odor of garbage, and the savory aroma of Old Bay seasoning comfort me. The thought of moving to Sicily and running the show was alluring, but I knew I would never do it. The French Quarter was home.

Shanna emerged from the antique store like a hurricane making landfall. The only thing on the planet that put mother nature to shame was the unbridled fury of a woman.

She set her gaze on me and frowned. “You had no right!”

I opened the backdoor of the town car and waited for her to climb inside.

Shanna glanced up Royal Street as if gauging the distance she’d have to run to be free of me.

Too far to go on foot.I’d follow her to the ends of the earth if it meant keeping her safe, but I knew better than to tell her that. The woman would see it as a challenge.

She huffed and slid into the backseat. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

I sat beside her and spoke to the driver. “Take us to the six-hundred block of Dauphine. Drive slow but don’t stop.”

“We’re driving past my apartment?” Her voice dulled.

“I thought you’d want to see it for yourself. Unless, of course, you’ve already been there.” The thought of her roaming the streets alone made me grind my teeth. Not only had she lied to me, she’d needlessly put herself in danger.

“I came straight to Jack’s.”

Jack.Hearing her say his name did nothing to improve my mood. “I don’t appreciate you leaving without telling me.”

“I shouldn’t have snuck out, but I knew you’d say no if I asked to come into the Quarter.”

“For good reason,” I said louder than I’d intended.

“What did you mean when you said the…” She glanced at the driver and frowned. “When you said I was the target in Ragusa?”

I respected the fact she’d censored herself in mixed company. If nothing else, she had a good head on her shoulders. “Everything that’s happened seems personal.”

“My money’s on Nico.”

“It’s looking that way, yes.” I lowered my voice. “Which is why I panicked when you left.”

“I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, nor am I your captive.”

“I understand that, but—”

“But nothing. I agreed to stay with you until things settle, and I’ll inform you before I leave the house. But I won’t ask your permission. You don’t have the right to tell me where I can and cannot go.”

I disagreed, but bit my tongue. If I pushed her, she’d bolt like a dog on a broken leash.

As we neared her block, Shanna shifted in her seat and pressed closer to the window.

The city had set out safety barricades and yellow tape in an effort to keep criminals and curious tourists away from the damaged building. The exterior wall facing west had partially crumbled. Blackened beams were all that remained of what had probably been her living room.

Continuing to stare, she sat as still as the grave. Even after we’d passed her former home, she didn’t move a muscle.

“Shanna?” I touched her arm.

“There’s no way Mr. Boogerre got out of there.” Her voice cracked.

I pointed to a poster glued to a streetlamp. “Look. There’s one of the flyers Mrs. Dixon put up. Someone will find him.”

She didn’t as much as turn her head. “Or the fire department will find his remains.”

---