Page 31 of Vapor

“Did you kiss her yet?” she asks in that innocent voice that really makes me wonder how the fuck she can see right through me. Not just me, all the guys run into the same wall of truth whenever they talk to her.

“Kiss who?” Ice asks, walking into the kitchen with Bones.

“No one,” I say, giving Babet a look that tells her she’d better keep her mouth shut. And to her credit, she does.“Did you find drugs or cash?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tank says, walking into the kitchen with a huge trash bag. He drops it on the floor.“Might want to fumigate this shit first to kill any creepy-crawlies that got in there.”

“Cash?” I ask, opening the bag.“And lots of it by the looks of things.”

“You know what’s fucking funny?” Ice asks.

“What?”

“We could give this to Broussard to launder for us.”

“Not a bad idea,” I say.“I was going to get it a different way, but this works. That way if he takes it and fucks us, we’re not out anything.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Normally we’d never discuss club business in front of a woman, but Babet would take club secrets to her grave. I have complete faith in her. That’s why I’m okay with talking about it. Also, the jambalaya’s almost ready.

“Did you boys eat yet?” she asks.

“I could have more,” Bones says.

“Me, too,” Tank adds.

They gather around the table with me. Babet smiles and goes to the fridge to get more jambalaya to heat up. While she works on that, Ice and the others fill me in on what went down in the bayou.

“It’s been two days. I can’t believe the money was still there.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“We couldn’t understand it either. Guess we got lucky,” Bones says.

“I wouldn’t call it lucky. The place smelled like death.” Tank shudders.

“Maybe because of all those dead bodies,” Ice says sarcastically.

“Surprised the gators didn’t eat them,” I say.

“They did. But they left a few limbs laying around,” Tank says, turning a particular shade of green.“Uh, I think I’ll pass on dinner.”

“What happened at the party?” Ice asks, changing the subject before Tank can hurl.

“Not much.” My gaze slides to where Babet’s standing. She’s still stirring the pot, but the edge of her mouth is turned up in a half-smirk. I’ve always wondered if there was something magical about the way she always knows shit. I’ve just never asked because I really don’t want to know the answer to that question.

After filling them in on the party and the failed attempt to get into Broussard’s computer, we dig into our food. It’s so different from the fancy shit they were serving at the mansion. This feels more honest. More real. Less pretentious and showy. I’d rather eat a single bowl of anything Babet makes instead of sitting down for a feast at the mansion.

I look around the table at the guys then over to Babet. The weight of taking care of this family sits on my shoulders. As the club’s president, I have to make life or death decisions that will affect everyone. I do it every day, but some days, it takes a toll.

“I’m heading up.” I carry my bowl to the sink and rinse it.

“Leave it,” Babet says.“I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Get one of the club girls to help you,” I tell her.

“If any of them weren’t drunk and/or naked, I’d ask for help.” She laughs.“I’ll just make them make breakfast for you guys instead.”

“Waffles and eggs and bacon,” I say, making it sound like a suggestion instead of an order. I can’t boss Babet around. She’d beat the shit out of me with a rolling pin. Gotta respect a woman like that.

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