married to his job, Cane’s nearing forty and his ex wasn’t able to have children, and Amity is thirty-five and still busy partying until three in the morning. I can feel Mae’s pain, but I am
so
not the girl she wants me to be. I care about Cane, but I don’t even want to
think
about babies. Ever. I’m with him for the laughs, the companionship,and the damned fine, totally protected, non-procreative sex.
But try explaining
that
to your man’s mama. It was easier to fake a stomach virus and run for home. Literally
run,
even though I’d been wearing high-heeled sandals. Cane, however, stayed behind and gave Mae a talking to. I know he did. He never told me what went down, but the change in Mae’s behavior made it clear that her son had asked her to back off. He’d done that—gotten tough with his beloved mama—on my behalf. It’s just one of the things that proves he’s a better man than I deserve.
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my hands around his iron-covered arm and fall into step beside him. “I’ll never turn off my phone again. I suck. I know I suck. I’m so sorry. I’d never want you to get hurt,” I say, all my noble, ending-our-relationship intentions vanquished by the relief rushing through my veins. I’m just so glad he’s okay.
More than glad. I’m giddy, dizzy with gratitude. I can’t wait to feel his skin against mine, to have his hands everywhere, to kiss him from the top of his scratchy head to the tip of his moon-shaped toes and show him how truly sorry I am. It might already be too late for a merciful breakup. If his safety is this vital to my existence, I’m probably already in too deep.
“You are in a mess of trouble, girl,” Cane says, his voice tinny, echoing inside his suit.
“I know. The FBI is here.”
“Already? I thought they weren’t getting in until eight.”
“Guess they got here early. That’s them waiting at the fence,” I say, glancing back to where Hitch and Stephanie stand just inside the gate. “I think I’m going to be officially reprimanded for … ” I freeze. The fact that Cane and I are alone finally penetrates my thick skull and injects my brain with a healthy dose of panic. “Oh …
fuck.
” I was so happy to see Cane safe that I forgot the reason he was out here in the first place.
“Oh fuck and a sack of shit,” Cane agrees. “I couldn’t find that woman anywhere. I walked every inch of your research area, even went beyond the borders just in case you’d wandered too far.” He sucks in an only slightly labored breath, despite the fact that his suit weighs close to one hundred pounds. “Didn’t see a damned trace of that Breeze head or the Breeze house, either.”
“What?” I shake my head. How can that be? The woman could have freed herself—or been freed by someone else—but she couldn’t have taken the houseboat with her. “That boat was locked in by tree roots. There’s no way it’s going anywhere until the water rises.”
We’re only fifty or so feet from the fence now. Cane slows almost imperceptibly. Next to him, the giant cypress that hovers over the split in the road sways in the breeze. The fairies lurking in its shade churn and hiss, angered by my existence. I shiver, glad I’mstanding close to Cane. That patch of deep shade is the perfect place for a suit-penetrating swarm to get started.
“I don’t know,” he says, beneath his breath, “but I know we need to find that woman. Abe got a call from Keesler about ten minutes after Dom faxed your report to New Orleans, telling him you were going to be investigated by the FBI. Leaving an infected person tied up out there was a big mistake, Annabelle.”
Oh, no. He’s calling me Annabelle, not Lee-lee. I’m definitely in big trouble, but how big? “Is this official-write-up kind of big, or pay-cut kind of big, or lock-me-up-and-throw-away-the-key kind of—”
“Didn’t have a lot of time to look over the FCC regs,” he says, “but I’m thinking it’s
so
not the girl she wants me to be. I care about Cane, but I don’t even want to
think
about babies. Ever. I’m with him for the laughs, the companionship,and the damned fine, totally protected, non-procreative sex.
But try explaining
that
to your man’s mama. It was easier to fake a stomach virus and run for home. Literally
run,
even though I’d been wearing high-heeled sandals. Cane, however, stayed behind and gave Mae a talking to. I know he did. He never told me what went down, but the change in Mae’s behavior made it clear that her son had asked her to back off. He’d done that—gotten tough with his beloved mama—on my behalf. It’s just one of the things that proves he’s a better man than I deserve.
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my hands around his iron-covered arm and fall into step beside him. “I’ll never turn off my phone again. I suck. I know I suck. I’m so sorry. I’d never want you to get hurt,” I say, all my noble, ending-our-relationship intentions vanquished by the relief rushing through my veins. I’m just so glad he’s okay.
More than glad. I’m giddy, dizzy with gratitude. I can’t wait to feel his skin against mine, to have his hands everywhere, to kiss him from the top of his scratchy head to the tip of his moon-shaped toes and show him how truly sorry I am. It might already be too late for a merciful breakup. If his safety is this vital to my existence, I’m probably already in too deep.
“You are in a mess of trouble, girl,” Cane says, his voice tinny, echoing inside his suit.
“I know. The FBI is here.”
“Already? I thought they weren’t getting in until eight.”
“Guess they got here early. That’s them waiting at the fence,” I say, glancing back to where Hitch and Stephanie stand just inside the gate. “I think I’m going to be officially reprimanded for … ” I freeze. The fact that Cane and I are alone finally penetrates my thick skull and injects my brain with a healthy dose of panic. “Oh …
fuck.
” I was so happy to see Cane safe that I forgot the reason he was out here in the first place.
“Oh fuck and a sack of shit,” Cane agrees. “I couldn’t find that woman anywhere. I walked every inch of your research area, even went beyond the borders just in case you’d wandered too far.” He sucks in an only slightly labored breath, despite the fact that his suit weighs close to one hundred pounds. “Didn’t see a damned trace of that Breeze head or the Breeze house, either.”
“What?” I shake my head. How can that be? The woman could have freed herself—or been freed by someone else—but she couldn’t have taken the houseboat with her. “That boat was locked in by tree roots. There’s no way it’s going anywhere until the water rises.”
We’re only fifty or so feet from the fence now. Cane slows almost imperceptibly. Next to him, the giant cypress that hovers over the split in the road sways in the breeze. The fairies lurking in its shade churn and hiss, angered by my existence. I shiver, glad I’mstanding close to Cane. That patch of deep shade is the perfect place for a suit-penetrating swarm to get started.
“I don’t know,” he says, beneath his breath, “but I know we need to find that woman. Abe got a call from Keesler about ten minutes after Dom faxed your report to New Orleans, telling him you were going to be investigated by the FBI. Leaving an infected person tied up out there was a big mistake, Annabelle.”
Oh, no. He’s calling me Annabelle, not Lee-lee. I’m definitely in big trouble, but how big? “Is this official-write-up kind of big, or pay-cut kind of big, or lock-me-up-and-throw-away-the-key kind of—”
“Didn’t have a lot of time to look over the FCC regs,” he says, “but I’m thinking it’s
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