Page 26 of Absinthe Dreams
My chuckle was lost in the deep rumble of the bike beneath us as the light we were waiting for changed, and I put us in gear and surged forward in the wake of Hex’s exhaust.
We made it to the club and didn’t even fuck with parking out front, pulling around the side of the building and riding down the narrow lane, single file, between the cinderblock wall and strapped fencing to around back, pulling into the big bay door and parking inside.
Axeman hit the switch, bringing the big bay door rumbling down as we backed our bikes into line in the garage.
Things were different back here. The shelves were nearly empty now that the girls had moved the majority of their stuff into the freshly renovated shop that wasThe Mystic’s Dreamdown in the Quarter.
They had a lot of shit to purge out ofThe Mystic’s Dream, and going out of business and flash sales had only taken care of so much. The rest had been taken to a storage unit where the girls were running a sort of temporary shipping station out of as they sold the rest of the stock online via their existing Etsy shop.
We’d been chipping away at this shit for the better part of a year, and now that Corliss’s big payout from the city had hit, we were finally making solid fucking gains – both in the girls’ endeavor with the French Quarter shop, and the distillery in the building out back.
The plan was somewhere between phase two and phase three of everything. The fourth and final phase involved opening up the distillery to the public and establishing a storefront in The Quarter. We’d scouted a location for lease for the latter right across the street from whereSwamp Witch Designswas going in to replaceThe Mystic’s Dream.
It was a crazy amount of work, but we’d made progress, surprisingly enough, despite everything. We kept expecting violence, that the Bayou Bitches would target the storefronts. You couldn’t keep shit about fuck quiet in the French Quarter. The denizens there spread information about what was going on in the neighborhood like fucking wildfire, so while we’d done our best to keep shit on the down-low, it didn’t matter in the long run.
We shut off the bikes just as the garage door finished its descent, and Genesis hopped off from behind me, already working off her helmet. I pulled mine off and hung it on the handlebar, then got up and took hers, putting it on my bike’s seat.
“Welcome to the lair,” Hex called jovially in her direction, and she laughed lightly and said, “Thank you! I’ve always been curious. Not going to lie.”
I smiled at that. “Sounds a lot like some stuffy citizen broad saying ‘Oh, well, you know. I’ve always wondered what the inside of this house looked like.’ But it’s true.” She smiled, and Hex laughed a little.
“Chainsaw might’ve mentioned you grew up in the life,” he said, wandering closer to her.
“My father,” she said, nodding. “Disciples of Sin, up in the top half of the boot. A small club, mostly kept to themselves in our small town.”
“Well, alright, then. I’ve not heard of ‘em.”
“I have,” I said. “It’s as she said.”
“I have, too,” LaCroix intoned. “Did time with one or two of ‘em… gun charges, if I recall.”
“That would be them,” Genesis said quietly. LaCroix gave a nod.
“Well, let’s get to the chapel then, shall we?” Hex jerked his head in the direction of the swinging door that led to the front half of the club.
I nodded and said, “Be right back.”
“Sure.” Genesis smiled, but it was brittle. She knew we were going to be talking about her and her… situation.
“Don’t you worry, now. We’ll take good care of her,” Sandy declared with a wink, hooking her arm through Gen’s. I smiled and shook my head.
“Don’t you be tellin’ herallour secrets now, y’ hear?” Bennie leaned over and claimed a kiss from his woman.
I smiled and slipped off without another word, following LaCroix and Hex toward the chapel. Axeman fell into step beside me. “That’s her, eh?”
“Yep,” I said shortly. I was waiting to get into the sanctity of the chapel to fully discuss.
“She’s hot,” he said. “Didn’t expect that.”
I snorted and shook my head.
“What the hell did you picture?” I asked.
“I dunno. You said she was a doctor. I pictured…” he held the door open for me to slide by and into the hall, finishing his sentence as he followed me through, “Frumpy, I guess.”
“Frumpy?” I echoed.
He shrugged. “Hell if I know. I thought doctors were nerds. I picture nerds as frumpy. Like Velma outtaScooby Dooor some shit.”
