Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,25
her back.
Evie, Emerson and Cassie chattered about their selections, oohing and ahhing over how good everything was.
8:45 p.m. showed on her watch.
Three more minutes and another trolley would stop just outside the ice cream shop. Granted, she’d only get three-quarters of the way to Tremé on the St. Charles, but it’d be better than sitting here waiting for her nerves to swallow her whole.
She kept her head down and forced a tiny bite.
“Do you like it?” Emerson asked.
The best she could do was nod and focus on keeping the food down.
Her knee started bouncing under the table, and her breath got so shallow the room around her got a little hazy.
“Bonnie, are you okay?”
It was Cassie’s voice, the volume of it low and private, but carrying genuine concern.
She couldn’t do this.
She’d been wrong to call Cassie.
Wrong to step outside what she knew and bring good people into her mess of a life.
She pushed her ice cream toward Emerson. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t eat this. It’s good, but you gotta finish it.”
Before he could ask why, she turned to Cassie. “Listen. I really appreciate you coming today.” She glanced at Evie then back to Cassie. “For dinner. For everything. But I can’t do this.”
She stood, grabbed her backpack and threw it over her shoulder.
The guards perked up, ready to move.
“Do me a favor,” she said to Cassie. “Just let me go. Don’t worry. I’m good. I promise. I’ll even text you when I get home. Just tell those guys to chill, okay?”
“But Bonnie—”
“Please don’t. You’re all awesome. Really. I just—” Feel like a complete imposter. Like someone’s going to show up at any moment and throw ice-cold water on me. “I need to go.”
She turned, hustled out the glass door and toward the empty tracks.
Right on time, the trolley clanged its impending arrival, the soft glow of the St. Charles marker at the top of it as close to comfort as she’d felt in hours. She hopped on as soon as it stopped, paid the fare and plopped down on the side bench.
Her pulse hammered in her throat, but her lungs finally pulled in a decent gulp of air.
Outside the window Cassie, Evie and Emerson stood in front of the ice cream shop, a guard on either side.
But they weren’t following her.
Just watching and letting her go exactly as she’d asked.
That’s good. It’s better that way. Cleaner. Less pain and disappointment.
She hugged her backpack tight against her chest and pulled in another deep breath. The same clamoring panic that had threatened to consume her still crawled beneath her skin, but the dark edges that had clouded her vision began to abate.
The trolley jerked forward, slowly pulling away from its stop.
Maybe it was cleaner this way. Safer for everyone.
But she couldn’t help thinking she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Six
Roman wasn’t a slave to schedules or plans. In his world, events and strategies were too prone to go astray. A wrong word spoken to the wrong person. A desperate, ill-thought-out action taken in the heat of the moment. A new rival who thought they had what it took to infiltrate an established area. Any of them could shake an established peace between vors and turn a quiet day to chaos in seconds.
But today...
Today was beyond what even he could fathom.
Parked on the corner of St. Ann and North Prieur Street, he soaked in what details around him he could with the dim streetlamp burning overhead. To his right, an industrial building that had once housed some kind of a business sat with plywood over its windows and doors. A string of weathered white duplexes with iron bars on the windows stretched one after the other on his left and old power lines zigzagged overhead.
But it was the row of apartments up ahead that held the bulk of his attention. A two-story brick structure that had been painted gray with red trim and resembled an old-fashioned motel from the outside. Compared to the rest of the block, it was aged, but tidy.
Unlike his day had proven to be.
First the call from Bonnie.
Then the interlude with Pauley.
And finally, the text from Cassie advising him that Bonnie had gone home.
He sighed into the quiet and glared at the ground floor unit labeled 104C. Part of him wasn’t surprised she’d run. Was actually more surprised at how long she’d taken to bolt.
But another part of him was disappointed. Not to mention worried he’d misread her. Even Sergei had questioned the wisdom of continuing