make your plans and dream your dreams about how you’re going to start running my life for me. But . . .” I look at each of them in turn, “. . . you need to keep something very clear in your heads: this is my life and my body and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want with it. And if you try to control me or if you try to tell me how I’m going to live, you’re going to be very sorry.”
I spin on my heel and leave the room, slowly mounting the steps as my heart cracks into a bunch of small pieces. I’m so mad at them at this point, I’d be willing to walk away from Bourbon Street Boys altogether. It’s killing me.
Whenever the vague idea of being pregnant entered my mind before, I imagined it being pretty crappy, but I never thought it would be this awful. Two of the four men in my life, guys who I respect more than anything in the world, have essentially turned on me. They’re treating me like an idiot, like a possession. Like they don’t know me at all. I feel so alone. Where have all the men who respected me gone?
Then I remember: I don’t just have Thibault and Lucky at my back. They’re not the only ones who respect who I am and what I’m all about. The thought brings instant relief and a plan. I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning first thing and go talk to Ozzie about this. Ozzie will fix it. Ozzie will know what to do. I know I can count on him.
I go into my room and collapse on the bed, falling instantly into a fitful sleep. I’m not one bit surprised when the ghost of Charlie arrives to haunt me once more. This time I don’t fight it; I let him come. What’s one more man trying to destroy who I am? The darkness that represents the love I used to have for the man I killed surrounds me and I listen once again as Charlie lists all the reasons why I shouldn’t be allowed to be a mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I go to work, my goal for the day to sit down with Ozzie and talk to him about the problems I’m having with Lucky and Thibault. I’m confident he’ll back me up. He knows that my being pregnant doesn’t change anything about my abilities. He’s told me many times how much he values my contribution to the team, and I know he doesn’t want to put me behind a desk when I could be useful elsewhere.
Unfortunately, I quickly learn that Ozzie’s goal for the day is to schmooze the chief of police. First, he’s gone all morning in meetings at the police station, and then I hear through May that he’s at lunch with the chief and a couple detectives who we work with frequently.
I’m tapping my pen on a legal pad over and over as I search through hours of videotape, frustrated that I’m getting nowhere with my personal life.
“What’s up with you?” May leans back in her squeaky chair from the cubicle next to me, headphone wires dangling from her ears. I’m doing a search of our video recordings and she’s doing the same with the sound files. We traded chores for the day to keep things interesting.
I don’t bother looking at her for more than two seconds before turning my attention back to the video. “Nothing.”
She pulls her headphones out of her ears and swings one of the earbuds at me, hitting me in the arm with it. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
I pause the video and sigh loudly, hoping she’ll take the hint. “Trying to work here.”
“You’ve been working for three hours straight. Take a break. You know what they say—all work and no play makes Toni a dull girl.”
I turn to look at her and find her smiling like a lunatic. “Don’t you get tired of being goofy all the time?”
“Don’t you get tired of being grouchy all the time?”
My frown jumps back into place. “I’m not grouchy. I’m . . .” I almost let it slip that I’m stressed. Holy hell. That’s all I need to do—feed her fire with more gossip fuel.
She rolls her chair closer to mine. “What’s that? What’s going on? You can tell me. I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”
“Except for your sister and Ozzie, of course.”
She shrugs. “That’s a given. But I figure