Angels of Bourbon Street (19 page)

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Authors: Deanna Chase

BOOK: Angels of Bourbon Street
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My heart sped up as I realized she wasn’t talking about me. She was talking about herself. We’d never discussed it before. The first time Dad left, I was told it was for a little while. I understood the military was his job, and he didn’t have a choice. The second time, I was already used to it being just Mom and me. While I felt the loss, it was more in the ‘Why does everyone else have a dad and I don’t?’ kind of way as opposed to actually missing mine. He hadn’t been around much. Except for that last time he’d come by the house, I’d never even seen Mom upset about him before.

She’d kept this hidden from me. How awful. Who did she talk to about it? Gwen? Meri? Her coven back in Idaho? Or had she locked her pain away and concentrated on our life together? I suspected the latter. Besides Mom’s herbal remedies and the small shop she’d ran, I’d been the center of her world.

“Mom.” I waited for her eyes to meet mine. “Why did Dad leave?”

She blinked back her tears and a hard expression settled over her face. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m asking you. What did he say to you that day? The last time he came by the house. What was in that note?”

Her brows furrowed. “I didn’t read it. It was for you when you were older. But then I never got a chance to give it to you.”

We both fell silent at the mention of her time spent in Purgatory.

I shuffled to the refrigerator just for something to do and pulled out two Diet Cokes. I held one out to Mom, but she shook her head. I shrugged, put it back, and busied myself with a glass and ice. After I was done, I leaned against the counter and gave her my full attention. “Where’s the note now?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. It was at the house.”

The one we no longer owned. It had been sold after I’d moved in with Gwen and everyone had given up hope that Mom would come back. The letter
could
be in some of the things Gwen had saved for me. Or it could be long gone. My chest tightened. Damn it all. One more question that would go unanswered. I tried again. “What did he say that day?”

“Nothing.”

“Mom!” She startled at my outburst. “You can’t keep ignoring this. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to cast the finding spell. I’ll call Bea right now, and then I’ll ask him myself.”

Her wild eyes blazed in fury. “That won’t work.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because Marc Rollins isn’t your father.” She sucked in a shocked breath and then spun and stalked to the refrigerator. A moment later, she pulled out the can of Diet Coke I’d offered her and popped the top angrily but didn’t bother to drink any of it. She just stood there shaking.

An odd sense of confusion wound its way through my brain. I blinked, trying to clear it, opened my mouth, closed it, and then cleared my throat. “What do you mean?”

“Shit,” she said so quietly I was sure she didn’t think I could hear her.

“Dad wasn’t my dad?” My voice trembled and I wasn’t sure why. Were those tears burning my eyes? I blinked rapidly, trying to bury my unfamiliar emotions. Dad had walked out on us years ago. I never thought of him. Why did it matter now?

My gut started to ache. And I knew why it mattered. After Mom had disappeared, I’d prayed Dad would show up to take care of me, prayed someone would find him and tell him. All these years, I’d assumed no one knew where he was or that he was out of the country. I’d never really believed he hadn’t wanted to be a part of my life. Now I knew.

“He left because I wasn’t his, didn’t he?” My voice was so low, so strangled, I wasn’t sure she heard me.

But the way she twitched told me she had. And the fact that she didn’t deny it right away told me it was the truth. A deep-seated fear blossomed from the depths of my being. The one my fifteen-year-old self had worked so hard to overcome. After Mom vanished and I’d been all alone in the foster home, before Gwen had come, before Kat and Dan, that scared, hopeless girl had known no one wanted her. Both of her parents had disappeared without notice, without warning.

She hadn’t been wanted.

And that was still true. He’d left seventeen years ago without so much as a glance back. And what about my biological father? Where was he?

“Who?” The word rushed out in a demand. “Who?” I said again, my voice rising. “Mom!”

She turned to look at me with haunted eyes, her face tight with fear.

My words caught in my throat, and suddenly, I had no desire to know who I really belonged to.

Chapter 17

All the buried rejection of my past came rushing back, and I tore out of the kitchen, heading straight for the front door. I’d demanded she tell me about my father, and now that the moment was here, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t face whatever she had to say. It hurt too much.

“Jade!” I heard a voice call.

But I had the door open and crashed through it, my brain a solid mass of old rejection and pain. It was a state I was familiar with. I’d grown up with it, learned to live with it. But during my time with Gwen, and the last eight months of living in New Orleans, I’d thought I was cured of the all-encompassing, soul-crushing knowledge that no one loved me enough to stick around. I wasn’t good enough for anyone. Not Mom, Dad, Dan, or maybe even Kane. We’d only been together a short time. What if he left too? The doubt was there, buried deep in my heart, burning a hole through the delicate fabric I’d woven to keep the fragile organ in one piece.

I turned the corner and flew down the two sets of stairs, aiming for the adjoining door to the building next door. I needed to be alone in my apartment, with my things. Away from everyone who could hurt me. Away from the truth I didn’t want to know.

I was flying up the second set of stairs when I heard the pounding behind me.

I whirled, finding Meri breathless and red-faced. “Dammit, Jade. Slow down, would ya? Even angels can’t keep up with that pace.”

My blood pumped rapidly through my veins, making my muscles twitch. I wanted to strike out, or scream, or run until I collapsed, but something switched in my brain as I caught her staring at me as if I’d lost my mind.

What was I doing? I was supposed to be sticking by her side. It didn’t matter that the only thing I wanted was a moment to collect myself. Not if I wanted to survive this anyway. “Sorry. I had to get out of there.”

Stifling a sigh of frustration, I turned and trudged up the third flight of stairs. Once we reached my door, I produced a key and waved her in.

Two suitcases lined the wall, along with haphazard piles of Gwen’s and Mom’s clothes. My apartment was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. They’d each been in New Orleans for over two months, dealing with my crap. It was another reason Kane and I were trying to push up the wedding. Gwen needed to get back to Idaho to start the spring farming.

Kane
.

A tiny bit of the pain in my heart soothed. He wanted me. He hadn’t left me. Not yet, anyway.
Then when?
The dangerous, self-destructive thought hit and I cringed. When would he decide I was too much trouble, too?

“Jade?” Meri said softly behind me.

I turned, eyeing her with tears burning my eyes. “What?”

“I don’t know what thoughts you’re having to cause such turmoil, but maybe you should change the conversation.” Her tone was soothing, knowing, as if she understood exactly what my feelings were doing to me.

Then it dawned on me, she likely did. She’d spent time waiting for someone to come find her. She knew all about abandonment. Not that I wanted to talk about it. What I needed was space to clear my head.

But there wasn’t anywhere to go other than the bathroom. I gritted my teeth and strode into the tiny room. Without a word, I closed the door and headed for the tub.

Forty minutes later, my body was shriveled in a prune-like state from lounging in the bubbles. And peace still eluded me. As I was about to reluctantly haul myself out, a knock sounded at the door.

Just go away
. I didn’t want to talk to Meri. Or anyone.

“Jade?”

I stiffened in the cooling bathwater. It was Kane.

I longed to see him. But I didn’t want to talk. God, I needed his arms around me, my head buried in his strong chest. “Give me a minute.” I rose and wrapped myself in an oversized towel. Not bothering to get dressed, I opened the door and stumbled into his waiting arms, relief making my limbs weak. His embrace always made me feel safe, loved, even when I didn’t believe it.

He held me close as he undid my hair from my hastily tied bun. “Your mom told me about your fight. Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, still pressed to his chest.

“Okay, sweetheart. I understand.” He brought his hand up and ran his fingers through my long, wavy hair, lightly stroking my arm with each movement.

I pressed into him and shut my eyes tight, as if I could block the world out. Somewhere deep inside, I knew I was being melodramatic. Knew I should be handling myself better. Knew this wasn’t the end of the world or the end of me and Kane. But my heart didn’t. It was the war between my messed-up psyche and my heart that tore me apart.

Gently, I pulled away from him and gave him a tiny smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Concern laced his features and shone in his dark eyes. He glanced once at Meri, now curled up on my repurposed couch, reading the latest copy of
People
. Gwen must’ve bought it. The magazine was her favorite guilty pleasure. Then he shifted me backward until we were both in the bathroom again. He shut the door with one foot and leaned in to kiss me lightly.

My smile grew. “What was that for?”

He shrugged. “You looked like you needed to be kissed.”

A chuckle bubbled up from my throat, surprising me.

“See? You did.” He leaned in again, this time with more meaning, his lips taking my bottom one in his as his tongue tasted and teased.

I sank into him, letting him take me over with the wonderful sensation. When he let go, I opened my mouth to him, but he pulled back.

I frowned. “Where’d you go?”

Pressing his lips together, he tensed as he took a breath. “I think we should talk about what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.” My heart hammered and I searched his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He looked so serious and…hesitant. About what? Me? Us?

He sighed.

“What?” I said with a slight tremor to my voice and I hated myself for it. I sounded so weak, so needy. It was disgusting.

He dropped his arms and stepped back.

My body ached with the separation, but I didn’t move forward. Why was he pushing me away?

“You’re overthinking. I can tell.”

I chewed on my lower lip, saying nothing.

“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

I nodded.

“And I’m not going anywhere. You know that too, right?”

Another nod. His words were exactly what I needed to hear right then, but they did little to soothe my anxiety. His actions were saying something else.

“You have some things to work out with your mom, but I can see you’re internalizing. I can almost feel you locking yourself away from everyone. It’s not healthy.”

“No you can’t.” I jerked my head up, my eyes narrowed in irritation.

“I can.” He stepped forward, invading my personal space but not touching me. “I told you before that I could sense you. Not like your empath gift, but your energy. That has never changed. And I feel you pulling away from me. I won’t force you to accept me, or what I have to give. That’s why I backed away. When you withdraw, I can’t force myself on you. I can’t be just a person you lose yourself in. It’s not who I am. And the woman who wants to get lost? She’s not who I fell in love with.”

My heart started to hammer and tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks. I couldn’t deal with this now. My emotions were too raw.

“Aw, sweetheart.” He brought his hand up and gently wiped the tears away. “I know you’re hurting. All I’m asking is for you not to shut me out. I can’t help you when you shut down.”

Shaking my head, I stumbled past him. I’d heard him and understood what he was saying, but a voice in the back of my mind whispered, “You’re broken. He sees it. Eventually, he’ll get tired of the drama and leave just like everyone else.” I ran to my closet and pulled out a faded pair of jeans with ripped knees and a stained sweatshirt. All of my regular clothes were at Kane’s house.

He didn’t follow, just leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as I tugged my clothes on. Once I was covered and feeling more secure, I wiped away my tears and raised my gaze to his unflinching one. “I think I could use a little time to…decompress.”

His eyes stayed glued to mine, his attention searching for the emotions he must have known were struggling to come out. But I held them in, not wanting him to see me break down.

He shifted his weight and took a step closer. I stiffened, not sure I could stand it if he touched me again. He stopped, let out a haggard breath, and inclined his head. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

I gave him a short nod and held my breath as he left. The door clicked softly, and I let the air go, easing the pressure in my chest. Moving to the window, I ignored Meri’s curious stare and glanced down at the barren courtyard. The day was chilly, gray, and bleak, just like my mood.

“Want to talk about it?” Meri asked softly.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. I’m here if you change your mind.”

Of course she was there. And while I appreciated that she was keeping me from being possessed, I resented the fact that I needed her. Resented the fact that she had half my soul and that if she’d never come into my life or my mother’s life, none of this would be happening. Knowing she was a victim herself didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

Across the room, I heard the soft click of my bathroom door closing. I glanced back to the couch to find it empty. Finally some time to myself. But I knew it wasn’t enough. I glanced at the balcony and then back at the bathroom door. Surely the proximity was close enough I could climb outside for some air. The bathroom was less than ten feet away.

Lifting the window, I peeked out at the gray skies. No rain. Yet. I grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and climbed out onto the balcony. New Orleans rarely got really cold, not like Idaho cold, but since I’d acclimated, I wasn’t used to the January chill. I wrapped the fuzzy blanket around my shoulders and sat on one of my plastic chairs, content with the courtyard silence.

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