Bayou My Love: A Novel (10 page)

Jack
was pulling him out of the booth by his collar.

“What
the hell!” Remy said.

Jack
dragged him into the cluster of tables. “Was I not clear the other day?”
Couples scattered as Jack spun Remy around and shoved him face-first into the bar.
“What part of ‘stay away from her’ was so hard to understand?”

Jack
turned to me and said, “We’re leaving.”

Remy
laughed, dabbing blood from his split lip. “I don’t think she wants to go
anywhere with you, son. And now you’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

He
rushed at Jack, throwing a punch that caught him on the chin. Jack staggered
backwards and swung as Remy came closer.

The
bartender shouted, pulling a baseball bat from under the register. “Oh hell
no,” he yelled. “Take that outside!”

They
kept swinging at each other, falling against a table. Beer bottles crashed to
the floor, sending a spray of glass beneath their feet. The fight was so fast
it was like it couldn’t be happening. I had to convince myself that, yes, it
was. Then I realized I should be doing something to stop it, since I was just
sitting there watching slack-jawed while two guys beat each other into lumps.

Over
me.

“Hey,”
I said, scrambling out of the booth. “Cut it out.” I stumbled toward them, only
then discovering how drunk I actually was. Buck grabbed me around the waist and
corralled me against the bar as the crowd moved out of their way.

“It’s
gonna take more than you to bust them up,” he said.

The
bartender rushed over, pulling Jack off Remy as he dodged one last punch. He
held the bat between them, his face reddening. “Outside,” he yelled. “Now!”

Remy
stood, grinning as blood trickled from his lip. He stepped closer to Jack and
leaned down into his face. “I hope you’re getting used to the flames,
Mayronne,” he said. “There’s still room enough for you in hell, and I’m gonna
see to it that you get there.” He turned and spat a mouthful of blood on the
floor as he walked to the door. He flashed his wolfish grin back at me, one
that said he wasn’t giving up just yet.

“Out,”
the bartender said, giving him a final shove. The door slammed behind him, and
the bartender turned to Jack. “And you too. Don’t come back until you can be
civilized.” He brushed his hands off on his jeans, muttering to himself as he
walked back around the bar. He downed a shot of something dark, and then took
out a broom and dustpan.

I
pushed my way through the crowd and went outside. In the parking lot, Jack and
Remy were circling each other like a couple of junkyard dogs.

“You
really want to do this?” Jack asked. “Let’s go.”

Remy
laughed, the blood on his face black in the moonlight. “I’ve been waiting for
this for a long time.”

“Stop!”
I shouted, grabbing Remy’s arm.

He
yanked his arm free, and I fell backwards onto the gravel.

“Son
of a bitch,” Jack said, and clocked him in the eye. Remy staggered backwards,
then rushed him like a quarterback and put him in a headlock.

I
scrambled to my feet, so mad I’d almost sobered up. Before I could get to them,
the door opened, and Buck rushed across the parking lot, barreling toward them
like a bull. He pried Remy off and twisted his arm behind his back. The big man
made it look easy. He had forty pounds on Remy and Jack. He could have knocked
Remy flat on the ground if he wanted to.

“That’s
enough,” Buck said.

Remy
gritted his teeth. He struggled to free himself, but Buck’s grip was like a
bear trap.

Jack
rubbed his eyebrow and winced as his fingers came away red.

“Are
you gonna leave now?” Buck asked Remy. “Or do I need to break your arm to
convince you that you’ve worn out your welcome?”

Remy
grimaced and muttered something I couldn’t quite make out. Buck loosened his
grip, and Remy stepped away, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head like
a boxer going into the ring. I thought for a second he’d take a swing at Buck,
but he only trudged across the parking lot. As he climbed into his truck, he
yelled, “This ain’t over, Mayronne. Not even close!” He peeled out, spraying
gravel in an arc.

Jack
walked over to me, his face stern.

“What
are you doing?” I asked. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I
came to take you home,” he said, irritated.

“I’m
not going anywhere with you.” I crossed my arms over my chest and wobbled a
little, feeling the full punch of the bourbon now.

“I
thought you might say that.”

“Well
congratulations on your outstanding powers of reasoning.” I sneered as the
words came out slurred.

He
cocked his head. “You going to make this difficult?”

“If
you didn’t already look like hell, I’d slug you myself.”

He
took a step closer, his jaw rigid. In one swift motion, he scooped me up and
heaved me over his shoulder.

“Hey,”
I hollered. “Put me down!”

He
ignored me and wrapped his arms around my legs, pinning me against him as I
pounded my fists against his back.

“Jack
Mayronne, you put me down this instant,” I yelled. I looked around for help and
saw Buck leaning against his old blue pickup truck, smoking a cigarette.
“Buck!” I howled. “Help me!” But he just smirked and waved at me.

“Jack!
I’m not kidding. You put me down or—”

“Or
what?”

“Just
put me down!”

He
carried me across the parking lot and slipped me off his shoulder when we
reached his truck. I stood dumbfounded as the earth seemed to tilt sideways,
and I felt sure I’d hit the ground again. He reached behind me, opened the door
and motioned for me to get inside.

I
slapped him across the cheek. “How dare you! You can’t just come in here and
drag me away like you’re some kind of Neanderthal.”

“Don’t
make me tie you down in the back,” he said calmly. “Because I’ve got the bungee
cords.”

I
glared at him, but he stared me down, his hands on his hips.

“You
can hit me again if you want,” he said. “But you’re still getting inside.”

I
was too tired and too dizzy to fight. Grumbling, I climbed into the seat and
slammed the door just as he pulled his arm away. He slid into the driver’s side
and started the truck, then waved at Buck as we drove past.

Suddenly
nauseated, I leaned against the window, closing my eyes. I didn’t think I’d had
that much to drink, but now the entire earth seemed to be pitching from one
side to the other, tossing me around like a pebble.

After
a couple of miles, Jack asked, “What got into you back there?” His voice was
cold. “You can’t go teasing people like Remy.”

“I
wasn’t teasing anyone. And I don’t need you to protect me.”

As
he shifted gears, my brain seemed to crash against the inside of my skull. I
rolled down the window to get some air. The stars were bouncing around like
pinballs. I closed my eyes again.

“You’re
just jealous,” I mumbled.

“Maybe.”

“You
thought you were so smart.”

He
said nothing, shifting again as we hit the curvy stretch of road. If he was
trying to make me carsick, he was about to succeed.

I
rolled my head toward him, waving my finger in the space between us. “You’re
trying to get close to me so you can stay in the house. You think if I fall for
you, I won’t be able to kick you out.”

“That’s
ridiculous.”

“It
almost worked, but I’m onto you now.”

“You’re
drunker than a wildcat, honey.” He shifted again, punching the gas. “And now
you’re just talking nonsense.”

“Am
I?”

“Yes,
you are.” His tone was cool and even, but he clenched his jaw as he gripped the
wheel.

I
leaned my cheek against the door. The warm breeze eased my pounding head. “Had
me going for a while too,” I said. “But Remy told me what you had planned.”

He
stared at the road. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? How dangerous
that guy is?”

“He
told me what you said about getting the house. You had this all planned out
from the start. Thought you had me.”

“Christ
almighty,” he muttered.

“But
you can forget it. Our deal’s off. Nobody makes an ass out of me.”

“Yeah,
you don’t need any help with that,” he grumbled.

“You’re
evicted! Immediately.” I stumbled over the words and laughed. “Evicted. Such a
weird word. I think it’s Latin for ‘out on your ass.’”

“We’ll
talk about this tomorrow. You’re blitzed.”

“And
you’re a jerk. A house-stealing, fake, seductive jerk.”

He
sighed. “Darlin’, you just don’t get it. For such a smart woman, you do some
stupid things.”

“Don’t
lecture me.” My voice rose. “You’ve got no room to talk about stupid things.
Got no room to talk about anything.”

He
downshifted suddenly and pulled off into the grass. The truck rumbled along the
shoulder, halfway off the road, and then came to a stop. I braced myself with
one hand on the dash, a little too late.

“Are
you crazy?” I said.

He
turned sideways and stared at me. “Dammit, Enza, this is no joke. That guy’s a
shark. He destroys people like you for fun. And to see you just wandering right
into his arms—how can you not see what he’s up to?”

I
froze, my hands now gripping the seat. This was the first time I’d seen him so
frantic, his cheeks flushed. That look was enough to sober me right up.

“He’s
a felon, Enza. He’s got a rap sheet that could stretch across the lake. He’s
left dozens of gals like you broken and in pieces, and there’s not one single
reason he ought to be walking around a free man.”

I
didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to believe or who to trust.

“You’re
lying,” I said.

He
slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The horn blared, echoing in the
darkness.

I
jumped, sliding against the door as I reached for the handle. But we were miles
from the bar, and being out in the bayou at night was like being in a
labyrinth.

“Good
God,” he said. “Are you completely blind?” He lowered his voice, taking a deep
breath. I thought he was going to lose it completely, but he sat still, staring
at me. “Go down to the police station. It’s public record.”

My
head throbbed. I was going to be sick.

“How
could you believe him over me?” he asked. “I thought you trusted me. I thought
we had something here.”

“I
don’t know what to think any more.” My voice sounded like a squeak.

He
shook his head, staring out into the night. When he spoke again, his voice had
softened. “This is about before. About Miranda.”

The
silence was stifling. All around us, fireflies were blinking out over the
water. Under any other circumstances, it would have been a beautiful night. But
there I was, stuck in a swamp with a guy who was leaning toward crazy, who
could easily drive off and leave me there to become the latest missing person.
I just wanted to go home and pretend this night hadn’t happened.

“I
don’t know how I can convince you,” he said.

“Don’t.
I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Of
course you don’t.”

“Can
we just get out of here?”

He
stared straight ahead for so long it made me nervous, thinking he might snap
after all.

I
slid my hand along the side panel of the door, pausing when I found the handle.

He
shook his head, shifting the truck into gear and pulling back onto the road. “I
don’t know what to do with you,” he said. “How to make you see.”

We
rode in silence the rest of the way home. I sat curled up in the seat, my face
resting against the doorframe. I knew Remy was trouble. There was no rational
reason for what I’d done. Even in my sloppy state, I knew I’d done it to get
back at Jack. And even though I might blame it on something else tomorrow, I
felt like a teenager trying to avenge her broken heart with the baddest boy in
town.

Jack
kept glancing at me. I could feel it, just like I could feel the waves of
disappointment rolling off him. But I had nothing left to say, so I kept my
eyes closed. I was afraid of what else he might see if I looked too long in his
direction. Vergie said once that the eyes were the easiest way to let folks see
into the hidden parts of yourself.

“You’d
better be careful who you let go peeking around in there,” she’d said.
“Sometimes it’s hard to see in, like looking into a house in the daylight, but
other times it’s easier than you’d think—like when it’s dark outside and your
neighbor’s left his shades up.”

I
figured Jack Mayronne had seen enough of me for one day.

When
we pulled into the yard, Jack climbed out and opened my door. I stalked past
him to the porch. I expected him to leave, because it’s what I would have done.
But he followed me up the steps as I fumbled for my keys. I swore under my
breath, jamming the wrong key into the lock.