Authors: Linda Castillo
Tags: #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Erotica, #Fiction
Life,
she thought, and smiled.
If the last three years had taught her anything, it was to never take the small things for granted. As she stood in the driveway and studied the pretty house that had once been filled with so much life, with so much hope, she tried not to feel melancholy about selling. It was time for her to let go of the past. Time for her to move on with her life, start thinking about the future.
It had been three days since the terrible ordeal she'd gone through at the hands of Travis Ratcliffe. She couldn't believe the man she'd known most of her life was responsible for the deaths of his own brothers and at least six children over a fifteen-year period. A doctor who'd taken an oath to heal, then used his position to get away with murder.
The question of what had really happened between Ward and Hunt and Travis all those years ago would probably never be answered fully. But Alcee Martin was convinced Travis had killed them for what they'd done to him in that storeroom.
Nat had relayed to him everything Travis had told her the night he'd tried to kill her. Alcee had dutifully put it in the report. The rest would be up to the St. Tammany Parish District Attorney and a jury of Travis's peers.
The sound of tires crunching gravel drew Nat's attention. She looked up to see Faye Townsend's Volkswagen pull into the driveway. Nat smiled at the sight of her friend's car and watched as she parked and crossed to her.
''Think it will sell this time?" Faye was wearing a flowing red dress with orange flowers that fluttered gauzily around her ankles as she approached.
"Mr. Strickland seems to think so."
The other woman looked at the house and nodded. “The place has a real positive energy about it now, honey. I think you're doing the right thing."
"It feels right,” Nat agreed.
"How's the leg?"
"Hurts."
Faye gave her a sympathetic smile before turning serious again. "Are you dealing with everything else okay?"
"As well as can be expected." Nat was still having nightmares, but her therapist in Covington had told her that was to be expected after going through such a horrific ordeal. "I'm pretty good at healing."
"If there's anything I can do ... " Faye said.
"I know. Thank you.”
For a moment the only sound carne from the mockingbird scolding them from the chimney. "I miss Kyle,” Nat said.
"You haven't heard from him?"
She shook her head. "I sat at the dining room table for an hour last night with paper and a pen, waiting for something to happen."
"Nothing happened?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I miss communicating with him. I miss him so much."
"Of course, you do, honey. You're his mom. You're always going to miss him.” Faye crossed to her and pulled her into an embrace. "It's going to be okay."
Nat closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. "You know I cry when you hug me."
"You're entitled, sweetie."
Forcing a smile, Nat pulled away and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I won't hear from him again, will I?"
Faye shook her head. "Probably not."
''That hurts."
"I know, sweetie. But I think maybe this is his way of telling you to move on with your life. Maybe even try to find some happiness."
Nat smiled at the notion of happiness and found herself thinking about Nick Bastille. ''I'm not sure I know how to do that."
"If you can solve a three-year-old double murder, you can do anything, including finding a little bit of happiness for yourself. You just have to put your mind to it."
Intellectually, Nat knew her friend was right. The problem was, she didn't know how. For three years, she'd geared her life toward one single-minded goal: Bring Kyle and Ward's murderer to justice. Now that Travis Ratcliffe was in jail facing a multitude of serious charges, she felt oddly adrift.
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway caused both women to look up. A warm emotion Nat couldn't quite identify jumped inside her at the sight of Nick Bastille's pickup truck. She hadn't seen him since the night he'd saved her life. But she'd spent plenty of time thinking about him. The nurse at the hospital had told her she hadn't been breathing when he pulled her from the quicksand, that Nick Bastille had breathed life into her body and brought her back from the edge of death.
"Honey, I think this is one of those times when three's a crowd."
Nat glanced over at Faye to see her grinning from ear to ear. For a moment, they stood there, both sets of eyes on the tall man moving toward them with long, confident strides.
"He sure is something to look at," Faye said wistfully. ''The man wears a tattoo the way a tattoo ought to be worn."
"I hadn't noticed," Nat said, and both women broke into laughter.
"Liar." Faye took her hands and squeezed them. "Tell your mama I said hello," she said. "And be careful on your way to New Orleans, okay?"
"I will."
Nick had reached them, his dark gaze flicking from Faye to Nat.
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Faye started past Nick, then paused to pat his cheek. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he answered, but his eyes were on Nat.
Vaguely, Nat was aware of Faye crossing to her Volkswagen. Of the engine turning over and the vehicle pulling out of the driveway. But her every sense was homed on the man standing close enough for her to smell the tangy scent of his aftershave. She watched as his dark eyes swept from her, to the For Sale sign, to her suitcase on the sidewalk near her car.
"Going somewhere?" he asked.
"New Orleans." Nat took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "I haven't seen my mother yet. I thought I'd take some time to visit her and try to figure out what comes next."
"How long will you be gone?"
"I'm not sure.”
A heavy silence fell as he digested that.
Because she couldn't stand the way he was looking at her--like she'd just sucker-punched him--she asked, "How did your parole hearing go?"
"Alcee Martin spoke to the parole board on my behalf. He explained to them that Travis Ratcliffe tried to frame me for Hunt's murder. He added that I was instrumental in Ratcliffe's arrest. Even though technically I had violated parole, the board wiped the slate clean, so to speak. I won't be going back to Angola."
Relief flooded her. "That's great news, Nick. I'm glad it worked out. It would have been incredibly unfair for you to be sent back for what you did."
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I wanted you to know ... I spoke to Tanya this morning. If she can get immunity for herself, she's willing to give a statement to the court, telling them what she knows about Race Roberson framing me for arson and insurance fraud."
For a moment, Nat wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "You'll be cleared'!"
"All charges will be expunged from my record."
A quick burst of joy shot through her. Before even realizing she was going to move, she closed the short distance between them and threw her arms around his shoulders. “I'm happy for you. Congratulations."
She felt him stiffen; then an instant later, his arms encircled her, and he pulled her close. "If all goes well, the district attorney's office in New Orleans might be able to get an arrest warrant issued for Race Roberson."
"That's even better." Tears stung her eyes. "You'll finally have justice."
She tried to look away, but Nick raised his hand and put his fingers under her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “That's supposed to cheer you up," he said. "Not make you cry."
Nat choked out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. I was just thinking about dreams."
He didn't give her any warning that he was going to kiss her. One moment he was holding her at arm's length, the next his mouth was on hers, and the earth was quaking beneath her feet. The quick shock of pleasure stunned her. She could feel his heart thrumming against hers, her blood beginning to heat. She wasn't sure where this moment would take them. The only thing she knew for certain was that being held by Nick Bastille felt right in a way that nothing else in the world could.
She was dizzy when he finally released her. His eyes were dark and intense when he gazed down at her. "I almost didn't come here today," he said roughly.
"Why?"
"Because I don't like good-byes." He shot a look at her suitcase.
“Me either.” She shrugged. "I just need some time to get my head together. Figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”
“I understand.”
"I’m selling the house."
"I sort of gathered that from the For Sale sign."
She laughed, but the sound was fraught with emotion. "What about you?"
"I thought I might spend some time getting reacquainted with Pop. I found a nice retirement home in Baton Rouge, but he's not quite ready. I've got some crops to put in before the season is over." He rolled his shoulder. "I'm still thinking about the long-term stuff."
"I hope it works out for you, Nick. You're a good man. You deserve good things to happen in your life. You deserve to be happy."
He stared at her, astounded by the unexpected emotion twisting him into knots. "Nat ... what you said about dreams . . .”
She stared back at him, her eyes so clear and bottomless he thought if he got any closer he might just tumble into their depths. ''There's an old warehouse for sale in Baton Rouge. It's in an historic district and going for a steal. I think it would be the perfect place for a restaurant."
Her eyes widened then filled with tears. Unable to speak, she started to put her face in her hands, but he gently took her hands and forced her gaze to his. "It would be a new start. A new life. There's some risk, but I've never let that stop me."
"I'm glad you haven't given up on your dreams."
"I haven't given up on a lot of things." He squeezed her hands. "I was wrong when I told you I could never give you my whole heart," he said. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, and it's killing me because I have no idea how you feel or where I stand."
She searched his gaze, her eyes luminous and so filled with emotion it took everything he had not to pull her to him. "You told me you weren't the kind of man I needed in my life."
He blinked, his jaw flexing. "
Chere
... "
"You were wrong, Nick." Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her mouth across his. "You're exactly the kind of man I need in my life. It just took you a little while to figure it out. I’m glad you finally did."
"I hear Baton Rouge is nice this time of year," he said, crushing her against him.
“I won’t be gone long," she said and kissed him back.
Table of Contents