Read Wrong Turn, Right Direction Page 7


  Thibault chuckles. “I’m the meat in a stubborn sandwich.”

  “Shut up,” his sister says. “You’re a meathead, and that’s it.”

  I look over at the baby, bundled up tight in the cheap hospital blanket the nurses said I could keep. I’m going to get him a new one as soon as we’re settled. He deserves better.

  “Baby looks good,” Thibault says, looking between the front seats. “What’s his name?”

  “You can call him Tee,” I say. “That’s what I’m calling him now. It’s short for Thibault.”

  “Poor kid,” he says. “I was hoping you’d changed your mind about that for his sake.”

  “You named your kid after my brother?” Toni glances up at me in the mirror again. “What’s that all about?”

  I hate the insinuation she’s making, like I’m after him or something. “He brought my baby into the world. It was kind of a big deal, but I can see how you wouldn’t understand.” Boom. Take that, you prickly witch.

  “You sure you want to do that?” Thibault asks me. “The name is terrible.”

  “Are you serious?” I can’t believe he just insulted my child like that. And himself.

  He’s laughing. “Yes, I’m serious. You need to give him a decent name. Thibault is seriously bad. Do you know how many times I’ve been called Thigh-Bolt or T-Bird or T-Bone? Kids are cruel. It’s not too late, you know.”

  “Yes, it is too late.” I look out the window. Now I’m even more determined to keep the name. When I finally get around to filling out the birth certificate, I’ll make it official.

  “I know you didn’t fill out those forms that were in your room yet.”

  It’s like he can read my mind. I don’t like knowing I’m that transparent. “You don’t know me.”

  “Did you?” Toni asks, glancing at me as we sit at a red light. “Did you fill out the forms?”

  I don’t want to answer, but I do after a while anyway. “No.”

  “Busted,” Thibault says. He hands something to me—the white mug. “Got this for you.” Inside it is a miniature teddy bear and some candies. “Congratulations. It’s not a donut with sprinkles, but it was the best I could do in a pinch.”

  I know it’s just a silly gift, but it makes me cry. He remembered the donut, too. Maybe he was looking forward to giving it to me as much as I was looking forward to getting it from him, which is ridiculous because it was just a damn donut. The mug has printing on it—words surrounding a heart: Best Mom Ever. I turn to look out the side window so my fellow passengers won’t see my overly emotional reaction. “Thanks,” I say when I’m sure I can control my voice.

  “No problem. So, where’re we headed?” He looks at his sister and then at me. Both of us shake our heads.

  “Uhhh . . . anyone want to fill me in on what’s going on?”

  I clear my throat. “Toni was going to drop me off somewhere.”

  “Your place?” he asks.

  “Yeah. My place. Take a right up here.” A plan is forming in my head as we roll down the avenue. I’ll see what cars are in the parking lot before we go in. If Sonia’s and Pavel’s cars aren’t there, I’ll chance it. I could leave Tee with Mrs. Barkley down the hall while I grab some things really quick out of my room and the bathroom. Then I could catch a cab to a bus station and hop a ride out of here. Or I’ll take the cab to the police station first, so I can talk to Detective Holloway. Maybe he’ll give me a lift to the bus station after that.

  “Left up there and then right on Lincoln.”

  Toni follows my directions as Thibault taps out a rhythm on his leg. “Your roommate home?” he asks.

  “No idea.” I hope she isn’t, because not only will she probably rat me out again, but I’ll be way too tempted to smack her for the trouble she’s caused.

  “You have a key, I hope.” Thibault turns around to look at me. “They took your keys with the car, remember? We left your car running when we went into the nail salon.”

  I open my mouth to respond at the same moment I’m realizing he’s right. “Dammit,” I hiss. Getting the superintendent to let me in will take forever.

  “But if your roommate’s there, she’ll let you in, right?” Toni’s question holds a challenge.

  “Yeah. Right.”

  I take my phone from my purse. My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I want to text Sonia and ask her if she’s home, but alarm bells are clanging like crazy in my head telling me not to. Instead of sending the text, I slide my phone into my pocket. “Turn right at that light. The apartment building is two blocks down on the left.”

  Nervous dread fills me from my toes to my head as I imagine what might be waiting for me at my place. As the apartment building’s parking lot comes into view, I recognize three vehicles that tell me getting into my home undetected is going to be impossible: Sonia’s, Pavel’s, and Sebastian’s—a business associate of Pavel’s. It’s like they’re having a party there or something. Since when does Sebastian hang out at my place?

  “Don’t pull in,” I say, too loudly and too quickly.

  Toni pauses with her foot on the brake and then lets the car roll forward. It’s going too slow. Someone is going to notice.

  “Hit it,” Thibault says, whatever joking tone he was using earlier gone from his voice. “Now.”

  Toni presses on the accelerator and speeds by the parking lot, leaning over the steering wheel like she’s about to try to outrun the cops.

  Thibault looks around the side of his seat and smiles at me, looking as though he has no idea that I just freaked out about them stopping at my apartment. “Feel like coming over to my place for a quick bite to eat? Before we bring you to your place, I mean?”

  He’s saving me again. Against my will . . . again. But same as last time, I realize I’m in no position to refuse the help. It burns my butt a little, but a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do. I’m going to keep telling myself that as long as I need to.

  “Sure,” I say, affecting the same tone as he did—clueless and happy. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  Toni lets out a long breath, shaking her head. I sink back into the seat, feeling both shame and fear in equal measure. Toni and Thibault exchange glances, but neither of them says anything.

  I pretend not to notice their unspoken conversation, focusing most of my attention on the baby. It’s the only thing that can keep the burning tears in my eyes from escaping to make salty trails down my cheeks.

  After a few miles driven in silence, I glance at the seat next to me and catch sight of the mug Thibault gave me. Best Mom Ever. Yeah, right. It’s like a cruel joke, mocking me. I grit my teeth at the unfairness of it all. My grandmother would be so disappointed in me. I knew better than to let myself get into this situation. Or I should have. I shake my head, trying to push away the negative thoughts. “Shake it off,” my grandmother always used to say. “Whenever those dark spirits try to get in, shake ’em off.”

  Thinking of her and her wise words gives me a shot of courage. I can do better than this. I know I can. I won’t let my life stay this way, and I am going to be the best mom ever. Tee didn’t ask to be brought into this world; he’s the innocent one in all this. I may not have chosen to bring him into the world, either, but that doesn’t matter. As his mother, I have a duty to make sure he’s safe and well brought up, so he can be a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I believe I can do this. Eventually. Once I’m free.

  I just need a plan that’ll get me out of here and away from all this craziness. There’s only one that makes any sense, even though it scares the living daylights out of me: I have to contact Detective Holloway and let him know I’m ready to deliver the goods and turn state’s witness against Pavel and everyone involved in his criminal organization.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  So this is where you live, huh?” I look around his living room, taking in the details as I put the car seat with Tee in it down on the floor. I rest my hand on my stomach, wincing at the cramps that keep c
oming up to spoil my mood even more. Having a period after giving birth seems really unfair. After all I went through, it seems like I should get a several-month break from that nonsense, especially since I never had regular periods to start with.

  “Yep.” He gestures at the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

  I bring the baby with me, placing the carrier at my feet as I relax against the cushions. It’s not a new couch, but it’s very comfortable. I could easily fall asleep on it. I sit up straighter to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m so damn tired and sore.

  “This used to be my parents’ guest cottage.” He points out the window. “Toni lives there in the main house with her husband Lucky and their two kids.”

  “You grew up in a nice place.” There’s crown molding ringing the ceilings, built-in bookshelves, a cuckoo clock that looks really old, and some framed prints of bayou country on the beige walls. The bigger house he’s pointing to across the lawn is huge, with a grand old porch wrapping around the front and sides of it. There are kids’ toys scattered in the grass. If the cottage looks like this inside, I can imagine what the big house is like.

  “The house was nice, sure.” He grunts, balancing his weight on one leg as he lifts the baby seat up and sets it down next to me on the couch. “The atmosphere, not so much.”

  I find it hard to believe Thibault didn’t get along with his parents. Based on what I’ve seen of him so far, I picture him as the high school football star, getting straight As and making his parents proud.

  “What was wrong with the atmosphere?” It seems like a strange way to describe family life.

  “My parents were both big drinkers. They started early in the day, every day. Toni and I didn’t spend a lot of time at home. We preferred to be out with friends or at our grandparents’ place.”

  I nod. I can appreciate that. “I was close with my grandma, too.”

  He leaves the room, headed for the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got bottled water in here.”

  “Sure.” I feel like we’re playing a strange game, where we pretend everything is normal when it’s not. Not at all. Toni left the car to go into her house without a word. Thibault’s invited me into his without hesitation. I know she didn’t approve of it, but he doesn’t seem to care. And I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I have no plan. It’s making me really nervous.

  “Here you go,” he says, coming back into the room with a tall glass of water for me.

  “Thanks.” I take it and drink half of it immediately. “I’m so thirsty lately.”

  “Yeah. Toni was like that, too. After the twins were born.”

  His expression is completely neutral. He’s taken a chair next to the couch and is sipping a glass of water.

  “What?” he asks, looking down at himself. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No. I’m just trying to figure you out.”

  A ghost of a grin appears. “Any luck?”

  I shake my head. “No, not really.”

  I don’t want him to think I’m being flirty, so I change the subject. “Toni’s kids are twins, huh?”

  He nods. “Yeah. Melanie and Victor.”

  “You said you’re their favorite uncle. I assume that means you have other siblings. Are they as close as you and Toni are?”

  “No, we don’t have other siblings.”

  “And her husband?”

  “He lost his only sister a few years ago.”

  “Soooo, you’re their only uncle.”

  “Technically, yes, but not-so-technically, no.”

  I tap the side of my water glass. “Explain.”

  He leans back in his chair. “We have some really close friends who are here a lot, who are a big part of our lives, and she considers them uncles and aunts to her kids.”

  A niggle of jealousy sneaks into my heart. I wish I had people like that in my life. “Ah, okay. And who are they?” It’s calming me down to learn more about his life rather than worry about my next move—a temporary reprieve from the real-world problems I’m facing.

  “People we grew up with and work with. And their spouses.”

  “Do they have names?” I take a slow sip of my water.

  He frowns. “You sure are curious about my life.”

  I shrug. “Just being friendly.”

  “How about if I ask you a few questions? Friendly ones.”

  I’m immediately on edge. I should have known better than to try to be nice. “Sure.” If I want more of his help, which I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for at least to get some clothes, I need to play along.

  “What exactly are you running from?”

  I put the water glass down on the table and pull the baby seat closer to me, occupying myself with the buckles strapping Tee in. “No one. Nothing.”

  “Bull.” Gone is the smile and the easy charm he was sharing just moments earlier. His mood is now completely cold.

  I take the baby from his seat and rest him against my shoulder. “No one you need to worry about.”

  He looks down into his water glass for about a minute before coming back to the conversation. “I’d like to help you, but I can’t do that if I don’t really know what’s going on.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  He sighs, shaking his head at me. “Why are you so bullheaded?”

  “Why are you so pushy?” I pat Tee on the back rapidly, trying not to let my frustration show but not being very successful at it. I really want to just get up and walk out of here, but where would I go? I’m in a neighborhood now, not the city. There are no cabs out here, and if I stand on the corner in this getup waiting for one that I call, someone’s liable to sic the cops on me. And cops mean social services, which means Tee being taken from me. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to kowtow to anyone, either.

  “I wouldn’t have to be pushy if you weren’t being so stubborn,” he says with a hint of a smile. He thinks he has me on the ropes.

  “Oh, so your bad attitude toward women, thinking you should be allowed to boss them around and push them in whatever direction you want, is their fault?” I snort. “Please. Could you be any more of a misogynist?”

  He hisses out a breath and drops his head back onto the seat cushion. “Lord, spare me from belligerent, bullheaded women.” He lifts his head and looks at me. “You are exactly like my sister. Exactly. Two peas in a pod.”

  “You’re kidding me.” I actually found his sister to be incredibly rude, so I’m pretty sure this is an insult.

  “No, I’m not.” His smile is faint, like he’s confused about what he’s saying as he says it. “You’re both stubborn, outspoken, hard-edged, tough, and walking around with a chip on your shoulder.”

  My jaw drops open in shock. I didn’t think Thibault’s opinion of me really mattered, but I guess it does; this hurts more than it should. “Well, excuse me, but I don’t recall signing up for a personality review when I accepted your offer of a ride. But now that I know I did, I’ll just be saying goodbye.” I take Tee from my shoulder and place him as gently as I can into his car seat while my hands are shaking. The buckles and straps are all mangled together, so it takes effort to get them straight. I’m trying really hard not to cry tears of frustration. Nothing is going right for me today. Nothing.

  Thibault leans forward, struggling to get his leg to cooperate. “No, wait. Don’t do that.”

  I pause and look up at him, stupid tears filling my eyes. “Don’t do what? Stand up for myself? Refuse to accept poor behavior on the part of a man? Leave a place where I’m not wanted?” It feels like there’s a shard of glass lodged in my chest. Rejection by this man shouldn’t matter one bit to me, but it hurts. I’m not going to lie to myself and say anything different.

  He holds out his hands at me in surrender. “No, don’t say that. Don’t do that.” He sighs heavily as he looks away. “I screwed up.”

  I get the buckles straight finally and click them
together. “No, you didn’t. You just told the truth.”

  He shakes his head, his voice low. “No, I didn’t.”

  I take in his slouched shoulders, flared nostrils, and the pulsing of his jaw muscles. He’s disappointed and maybe confused. Angry about something. He looks at me all of a sudden, catching me examining him. I drop my eyes to the baby and busy myself with tucking his blanket in around him.

  “I’m an asshole.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. I look up at him. Blinking. I can’t think of anything to say. I think courtesy would require me to disagree, but I can’t do it. He hasn’t always been an asshole around me, but he sure did a good impression of one two minutes ago.

  He rubs his knee over and over as he stares at the floor. “My knee is really bugging me, and the painkillers aren’t working so well, and I’m worried about my job and the people I’m going to let down if I can’t do it.” He sighs. “I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

  Guilt assails me. It’s partially my fault that this is all happening to him. I haven’t just made a mess of my own life; I’ve dragged him down too. “Listen . . . I’m really sorry I hit you with my car.” I’m unable to get my voice up to normal volume. “It sucks that you need surgery. It’s really terrible. I’ll bet it’s ruined a lot of your plans for yourself and your job and stuff.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said . . . I should have looked in your direction before I stepped off the curb.”

  The atmosphere is heavy and sad. Being around this man throws me for so many loops, I don’t know which way is up anymore. “So what exactly is your job, anyway?” I stop messing with the baby and fold my hands in my lap. I want to move this conversation out of the dark place it was in and get us back on friendly footing. There’s nothing to be gained by making this man an enemy, and I’ve already brought enough negativity into his life.

  He sits up straighter in the chair and his shoulders lift, making him seem much bigger. “I work as a security consultant. Mostly my company works for the NOPD, helping them gather evidence for warrants or convictions, but we also work for private companies or individuals who need protection.”