Page 35 of Bourbon & Blood

…and it clicked.

No. I didn’t think a man who would permanently glue that patch to his vest was much for spewing bullshit. I mean, it would be a little hypocritical, don’t you think?

The Voodoo Bastards were known for many things around the city and the local parish; hypocrisy wasn’t really one of them.

“Thanks,” I said and I stuffed the patch into my pocket. I sighed and finished out my closing. I guess he really was gone then, and I’d be forced to call him.

Damn.

My anxiety about the whole thing only served to ramp up another notch, and I began to question and talk circles around the whole notion silently in my head.

I’d been wrong about one thing – he hadn’t gone, because when I left, he was waiting outside.

“Hi,” I said lamely, rocking back on my heels. He raised his chin in a sort of salute, I guess.

“Figured I’d walk you home,” he said. “The one you were bartending with tonight is a fuckin’ pussy and don’t do it.”

I blinked and looked up the street in the direction Jonathan had gone.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s hisjob. He’s off work just the same as me.”

La Croix just stared at me, silent.

“Where are your friends?” I asked, curious.

“Told ‘em to fuck off again,” he answered with a one-shouldered casual shrug.

“And they always do what you say?” I asked.

“They fuckin’ better,” he answered.

“Or what?” I asked.

“That’s for us to know. Club business.”

I raised my chin some and said, “And what? Club business is man business? Not for us little women to know?”

His lips curled ever so slightly and he said, “Safer that way.”

“For who?” I asked.

“For you.”

“I see…” I trailed off, but to be perfectly honest, I didn’t. I couldn’t even begin to understand how that whole world worked. I was keenly aware that while his world and my world coexisted side by side, they werenotthe same world.

“If you’re waiting formeto fuck off so you can walk home – I think I’ve already proven I know where you live,” he said.

I blinked and stuttered out, “N-n-no, I wasn’t… but… uh… just howdoyou know where I live?”

“I know a lot of shit,” he said, again, with that one-shouldered and casual shrug.

I slowly started up the sidewalk in the direction of home and he fell into step beside me.

“Just what happened that night?” I tried asking him and he shook his head.

“If you don’t remember, it’s best that you don’t. Believe me.”

I swallowed hard and asked the real burning question, “Do you think you can really find her?”

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