Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,20

the worst in people. I wouldn’t want to see the worst of Ozzie.

“Whatever,” I say. “I hope you’ll be happy.”

“I already am.” He means it. Ozzie doesn’t do anything half measure. When he puts his mind to something, it’s as good as done. Six months ago he put his mind to loving May, as silly as she can be sometimes, so now it’s over. Ozzie is off the market forever.

Before May gets back with the coffee, the outer door opens and everyone but Lucky walks through. The meeting will now commence minus the one member I actually wanted to see today. I hate having to admit that to myself. Great sex will be the death of me yet.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Okay, so we’ve got a new case we need to get started on right away.” Ozzie dives in, our morning coffee still steaming in mugs in front of us. “The city’s got trouble in the Sixth Ward again. Some of you already heard about this Friday night at the pub, but I got more detail over the weekend from Captain Tremaine. You all remember David Doucet and the crew he ran with?” He pauses as we nod, placing his hand on May’s shoulder as her face goes a little white.

How could we forget David Doucet? The hardcore criminal ended up in May’s house looking to blow a hole in her after she witnessed him taking shots at Ozzie. Luckily, Dev’s training set her up to at least react when things get hot. From what I heard, her self-defense wasn’t elegant, but she got the job done.

Dev couldn’t have been prouder, but I was just plain relieved. She’s a pretty damn good photographer, and I already knew then how much Ozzie cared about her. If something worse had happened to her, it would have torn our whole team apart. Ozzie’s as tough as they come, but May can turn him to mush with a single look. It’s embarrassing, and I’d tell him so, but he’d probably double my workouts and send me dumpster diving for evidence over it.

I’m glad she’s continued her training and gotten better than she first was, because she could be a real soft spot for all of us. She and her sister both. Neither of them was born to the life the rest of us were. Hardening them up, both their muscles and their minds, has been Dev’s job since they walked in the door, but we all help out with sparring sessions and pair-work when we can. I don’t envy Dev the task he has. It can’t be easy. They look like a couple of marshmallows, the way they dress and carry themselves. Before, they were Jet-Puft . . . Now they’re the stale store-brand: a little tougher, but still too sweet and soft in the middle.

Ozzie cuts into my thoughts. “Looks like a rival gang is coming into town, and the streets are getting hot. There’ve been a couple of drive-bys, which wouldn’t normally be something we’d get involved in, but the attacks look a lot more coordinated than normal. There are more victims coming from more accurate strikes.”

“Isn’t that kind of a good thing?” Jenny asks. She looks at everyone sitting around the table. “I mean, they’re all drug dealers and gang bangers and stuff, right? Don’t we save taxpayer money by letting them kill themselves? Street justice or whatever?”

Thibault shakes his head. “No. These are drive-bys at quinceañeras, baptisms, birthdays, barbecues, and other family events. We’ve got moms and grandmas taking the heat with these. It’s getting real ugly.”

Jenny’s face falls. “Oh. Now I feel bad. Grandmas?”

May reaches over and pats her sister’s hand. “Don’t worry, big sis. I got you.”

I hold in a laugh. Whenever May tries to sound street, it makes me think of a Muppet dressed as a gangster. Jenny rolls her eyes and then bugs them out at me. She gets it. She’s under no illusions about who she is and what she’s capable of. I respect her for that.

Dev drapes his arm over the back of Jenny’s chair, silently and probably unknowingly giving her his full support. I rub my hand over my chest, trying to ease the ache that appears there. Jealousy has never been a part of my repertoire before, but damn, it’s hitting me hard right now. Why does everybody else get to be happy? I know the answer to that question, which only pisses me off more. Charlie. I need a do-over for my life. Karma