Page 41 of Obsessed with Her

“I’m sorry about that,” she says, but as she starts to stand up, Beau steps forward to help her.

I observe the dynamic between the two. The man’s expression instantly softens as he looks at who I assume is his wife.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling, as if he is her sunshine. When she finally lifts her eyes to look at us, I’m stunned for a few seconds by their color. They are yellow.

“They are not contact lenses.” She smiles wider, as if she understands my surprise. “Nice to meet you. I’m AmberCarmouche-LeBlanc.” Like her husband, she offers her hand to shake, and I almost smile at the way Beau watches us when we touch his wife.

Like a passionate and possessive guardian.

She leaves then, and he directs us to a library. Before he closes the door, we hear children laughing.

“How many?” I ask.

“Four. Two sets of twins.” Again, his expression softens, but it soon becomes serious again. “I’m investigating the incident,” he says.

“How?” I ask, understanding immediately that he is talking about the attack on Serenity.

“I requested the camera footage from the airport, at all establishments.”

Only then do I understand why Zeus calls himKingof New Orleans. The police told our lawyers that it would take months before they were all accessed. I knew Odin wouldn’t wait that long—if I know my cousin, he’s already working on it—but I’m fucking surprised by the speed and efficiency with which Beau acted.

“My men are analyzing the footage, but it could take a few weeks, I’m told.”

“Thanks.”

“She doesn’t need to leave out of fear, Ares. I didn’t know the girl would arrive that day, but I had already intended to keep an eye on her because Miss Blanchet is yours. Tell her that any time she wants to return to New Orleans, she will be protected. No one will dare lift a finger against her in my city from today onwards if they want to keep breathing.”

Serenity

“You can’t go to New York with me because you have a sick relative? Who?” I ask, trying not to show sadness and pushing the feeling of abandonment into a dark room inside me.

JeAnne has always made sure I had at least an idea of home, always waiting for me with my favorite foods when I returned from vacation. Putting up trees at Christmas and sending cards and gifts on my birthday.

She lived so much for me that sometimes I forget she has a life of her own. I vaguely know that her parents are dead and that she never had any children, but nothing more than that.

“A distant cousin. I never talk about her,” she says, and I get the feeling she’s lying.

I think about the brochures of houses in Florida that I once came across, but I quickly dismiss the idea. She doesn’t look like she’s going to start a life somewhere else. On the contrary, she looks fragile in a way I’ve never seen before.

“Why did you only tell me that today?”

“With the whole scorpion story, I ended up forgetting.” She’s lying again. I would bet my arm that nothing she’s told me today is true.

“But will you meet me in New York when she gets better?”

“Yes, I will,” she says, without looking me in the eye, and I feel my chest tighten.

However, I’ve spent a lot of time practicing hiding my emotions and never showing that I need other people. “All good. If you need anything—anything at all—will you contact me?”

“Don’t worry, my child. I’ll be fine.”

I’m very shaken. She waited until the last moment to tell me that she wouldn’t move to New York with me, and although she’s promised to move later, I don’t believe her anymore. In my heart, I think this is a goodbye, and the feeling intensifies when she pulls something out of the pocket of the dress she’s wearing. It’s a photograph of the two of us when I was still a child.

I remember it, although not when we took it. I took her with me to Germany and kissed her every night before bed.

“You’re not coming,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

“To live, no. But I really want to see Manhattan. You’re a woman now, Serenity. You don’t need me.”

---