Page 66 of Creole Kingpin
That fucking bitch of a conscience. She just had to go there.
I turn back around and drop into one of the chairs.
Fuck.
I wait for hours, but Moses doesn’t show. Finally, I curl up on the bed and pass out. He can see a miracle occur in broad daylight then—me apologizing.
Forty
Moses
Idon’t go back to the house until I’ve exhausted myself with a punishing workout and spent a couple of hours walking the French Quarter, just for good measure, to calm my temper.
Magnolia fires me up the way no one else can, that’s for damn sure. When I get inside, Trey is still working at the table, but Jules is nowhere to be found.
Trey’s head swivels when he hears the sliding door. “I wondered if you were ever coming back.”
“I’m back. What of it?” Guess my mood still isn’t all that great.
“Nothing. Didn’t hear any breaking glass or anything after Jules put her in your room. I figure that’s a good sign, considering how pissed off she was when he brought her inside.”
Of course Jules would put her in my room. I don’t know whether to shake his hand or ask him if he’s fucking crazy when I find him.
“She eat?”
Trey shakes his head. “Not hungry, or so she said. I think she was feeding on the fires of her rage, if you want to know the truth.”
His sense of humor usually makes me laugh, but tonight, I’m not in the mood.
“Thanks, man. I’m crashing.”
His eyes widen. “In your room with the fire-breathing beauty?”
I think about it for a second. “Yeah, that’s exactly where I’m heading.”
“God bless and Godspeed, my man. I hope I see you alive in the morning.”
“If I’m dead, Jules gets the Rolls,” I tell him as I cross the kitchen to head for the bedroom.
“That’s not fucking fair,” Trey says as I disappear around the corner to the hallway.
I take a long shower in another bathroom before I finally head to bed with a towel wrapped around my waist. I listen outside the door for a few moments, and when I don’t hear anything inside, I open it. Part of me expects her to be breathing fire and smoldering from the ears, just like Trey said, but that’s not what I find at all.
No, inside there’s a gorgeous raven-haired beauty with golden skin curled up on top of the covers, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.
She’s asleep.
I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved.
Silently, I cross the room and slide under the sheets, careful not to disturb Magnolia. But I’m clearly not as silent as I think I am, because her sleep-roughened voice comes out of the darkness.
“I only played chess with him because it reminded me of you, Moby. It’s the only time I ever let myself remember us.”
I couldn’t have known how good it would feel to hear her say those words, because I never thought she would.
A lump rises in my throat. “Sleep, mama. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
She reaches out, finds my fingers, and I squeeze hers back. It doesn’t take but another minute before she’s breathing deep and even again.
