Page 27 of Absinthe Dreams
I laughed and shook my head.
“You’re fuckin’ weird, man.”
He grinned. “Aren’t we all?”
“True dat,” Bennie said, pushing past us to head up front to the bar. We followed to drop our phones off and grab a drink.
It was never too early for a beer.
We got our choice and headed into the chapel, taking up our places around the table. All of us were here, which was good. LaCroix banged the gavel, and we were in order, just like that.
“What’s the full meal deal on the good doctor?” Hex asked without any preamble.
I explained about how I most definitely owed her and about her little problem.
Saint gave a low whistle.
“Goddamn…” he said. “A bona fide serial killer?” he asked.
“Ah, yup,” I said. “Look, I know that this couldn’t come at a worse time, and I’m not even sure how to begin handling this with everything we’ve got going on, but the threat is credible and real. I got to her place last night, and this sick fuck had an entire family of a mamma cat and her kittens disemboweled, heads on her fuckin’ fence out front of her house, like heads on pikes. Even took the time to string the guts along like garland or beads. It was sick as fuck.”
“Cops ain’t doin’ shit about fuck, I reckon,” Hex said, tracing designs against the table from the condensation ring left by his bottle.
“Got that right,” I grunted.
“Worst possible fuckin’ timing,” Collier mused.
“When is something like dat any kind of good timing?” Cypress asked, and he met my eyes with a cold fury in his. I’d bet he was picturing his sister in Gen’s place. Jessie-Lou Gaudet was tough as nails, though, and probably would have strung this motherfucker’s guts for garters for harming animals before cleaning the bones of the cats and using their skulls for her art.Waste not, want not in the swamps,as she’d say.
“Cut the shit,” LaCroix said quietly. “Get to the point. What’re you asking for?”
I leaned back in my seat and shook my head. “I ain’t asking for anything. I should be able to handle this on my own. I’mjust lettin’ y’all know that’s the tea. Only changes on my end are I’m swinging by the swamp house to pick up some of my shit, and until further notice, I’ll be stayin’ in the Garden District. My patterns of movement are changin’ up in that I’ll be closer to the club an’ pickin’ her up and droppin’ her off to work. She knows the life, doesn’t ask questions. I figure before long, this fucker’ll make a move, and when he does, I’ll be there to handle it.”
LaCroix looked thoughtful, and Hex looked… bored. He’d probably run through the calculations on how much things would change where I was concerned lightning quick.
“Sound like me,” Axeman muttered.
“What’s that, now?” Hex asked, frowning.
“Still been checkin’ up on that chickie from the Lavender Lounge thing y’all sent me out to deal with a while back. She’s a sweet thing, not too bright, but eh…” Axe shrugged.
All eyes were on him now, though. We didn’t know shit about fuck when it came to this little revelation, and if Axe was playing things this close to the vest, there was something there… But with Axe? Shit. All in good time.
The table was silent, and the longer it stretched, the more I started to worry that I’d be told to drop it.
“I got this. No interference with club business. I swear,” I said.
“The benefits of you stayin’ close outweigh the negatives. Still, I don’t like that Cy’s out that way by himself most of the time. You were the more constant in the ol’ bayou house.”
It was true. Axe, Cy, and I had all moved into LaCroix’s daddy’s old house. Mostly, it saved us a gang of money to do it, which was great. But Axe was taking care of club business in the city more often than not, and while Cy and I hadn’t really questioned where the fuck he stayed, it was lookin’ like he was in with some chick from the freak show that was the Lavender Lounge. A secret squirrel underground BDSM clubthat contracted the club to deal with any… problems that ol’ Lucifer, the club’s bouncer, couldn’t handle on his own, bein’ he needed to stay on the property.
We made a tidy sum monthly off ‘em to run protection and to deal with any problems they had that required outside muscle – which, honestly, Axeman handled the last call, but that wasmonthsago. Around the time that Bennie and Sandy got together, so I thought that shit’d been squashed.
I guess not, though…curious,but none of my business. I have my own shit to handle.
“I’m good,” Cypress said and sniffed. “LaCroix comes by often enough, an’ if I have to, I can always head on up the road an’ stay with you an’ my sister ‘til Chainsaw gets this shit handled. I get it, man. That’s a serious debt owed.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks, brother.”
