Angel’s Promise by Aleatha Romig

Emma

As Kyle walked away, my mind went back to my brief lesson on New Orleans. I couldn’t recall Rett mentioning a park boy. Did it mean someone who was at a park?

Low voices turned my attention away from the front of the house to the back, through the kitchen windows. The two people who had been in here when we entered were now out on a back porch. For a moment, I wavered between asking them for help and following Kyle to learn what had happened and maybe learn about Ian. If I were becoming truthful with myself, I cared about him too.

Getting home was my first desire.

Standing taller, I looked one way and the other.

I made my decision.

After all, when would I have another opportunity to speak to anyone?

With a quick look over my shoulder, I confirmed that Kyle was now on the front porch with Liam. Their conversation had quieted so that I was unable to hear individual words. From their body language, I would gather they were somewhere between sharing information and a celebratory atmosphere.

Not exactly my current state of mind.

“I’m in a Twilight Zone episode,” I murmured as I tried to think straight.

The back door creaked as I pushed it open. For only a moment, I lifted my chin, enjoying the fresh yet still air. “Excuse me?”

The man and woman both turned my direction.

They were both slight in stature. Their skin was leathery as if they spent a lot of time working in the sun. She had on a dress and he was wearing overalls. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d been brought to a bad movie set with stereotypical costumes. However, this was real life and there was no director to call cut.

When the two moved, I saw piles of red beans and a large pot. Their fingers were dyed by the red, almost looking like blood. I moved my gaze to their faces.

“Hello.” I waited, but neither one spoke. “My name is Emma.”

They nodded.

Okay, well, they understood me.

“Can you help me? I need to make a phone call.”

I didn’t know Rett’s number, but I had come up with a plan. The only number I could recall was Ross’s and during the questioning, the NOPD said they were in possession of his phone. I could call it; they could call Rett. It might be farfetched, but my choices were limited.

The woman looked to the man. I thought for a moment I had a chance, but the man shook his head and spoke, not to me but to the woman. His voice was deep. The language he spoke was unfamiliar, yet I recognized the tone and speed of his speech.

In the last month and a half, I’d had a crash course in the meaning of different tones. I’d learned enough to recognize that there was something in this man’s tenor that indicated he wasn’t pleased.

I waited.

The woman’s reaction confirmed my suspicion. Without turning to me, she went back to the beans. His pale eyes came to me and he shook his head.

This conversation was over.

I peered out from the back of the house determined to find another way to get home. The landscape wasn’t significantly different than from the front other than the presence of two other buildings surrounded by tall trees. Their structure was less grand than this house. The wood siding was weathered, and the wood shingled roofs were covered in moss. I reasoned that at least one of the structures was a garage. After all, the car had come this way.

Maybe if I could get into the buildings...

“Emma.”

Through the screen, I heard and saw Kyle returning to the kitchen. I had the sensation of getting caught doing something that I shouldn’t. A quick look at the couple and the way the woman’s hands now shook let me know that if I didn’t do something, I could be a cause for their trouble. Biting my lip, I reached for the door handle.

“Are you going to tell me where we are?” I asked.

“This is our mother’s home.”

I spoke quieter and asked, “What language do they speak?”

“Most call it Creole. It’s heavy on French with a lot of made-up words. They don’t think they’re made up, but it takes time to understand. Honestly, there are so many dialects that in all these years, I’m still floundering.”

“Language never was your forte.”

“Well, your writing isn’t what we need either.” He tilted his head toward the front of the house. “Mother is going to rest. She said she won’t be able to unless she knows you’re being taken care of.”

“A cellar isn’t taking care of me. Let me call Rett.” My attention went to the glass of water waiting upon the countertop. My thirst had subsided, but seeing the milky liquid caused it to return.

“Again, Em, if I handed you a fucking phone, you couldn’t make the call.”

I looked to him as his gaze went to my left hand, my wedding rings, and back to my face.

“How is that marriage thing working for you?”

Any patience I’d tried to summon up was wearing thin. “Shut up.”

“We’re not kids anymore. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I want answers.”

“When Mother is ready.”

I sucked in a breath, ready with a retort, as Liam came around the corner, stopping at the doorway.

In my conversation with Kyle, I hadn’t heeded the second or two warning when I’d heard footsteps on the hardwood. I was admittedly unprepared as Liam and I came eye to eye.

Instinctively, I scanned the man I’d loved a long time ago, from his dark hair to the toes of his shoes. I hadn’t noticed when he appeared outside the car earlier today, but he was dressed in a suit, not unlike the ones Rett wore. His shoes were leather loafers, not tennis shoes like Kyle’s. Despite the heat, much like Kyle, he appeared unaffected.

Liam’s chest filled with air, testing the buttons on his suit coat as he stared my direction.

Gripping the countertop, I stood straighter, not looking away.

Besides the few minutes in Rett’s foyer, the last time I’d seen Liam he was driving away from my apartment in Pittsburgh. The memorial service was history, and he’d made it clear that so were we.

This moment might be easier if I could look back on that particular time in my life with pride—if I could say I kept my chin high and didn’t reduce myself to a heartsick ex-girlfriend. While I eventually came to that outcome, first I’d mourned—my family and the loss of my hopes and dreams for Liam’s and my relationship.

I’d missed classes and sat up nights crying. I’d left messages on his cell phone and personal messages on social media. They’d been pathetic, sad messages—and every one of them went unreturned. I even did what I said I’d never do and stalked him via social media.

Finally, I stopped.

At that point, I cut off everyone from my childhood and hometown.

I took the path I should have taken when Liam said goodbye.

In my defense, at twenty-two years of age and after the loss of my family, I wanted someone to lean on. I believed that William Ingalls would fill the huge void my family had left. I had faith that our forever wouldn’t end. I’d been wrong.

As Liam’s green eyes met mine in this strange kitchen in the middle of a Louisiana bayou, I had an awakening. It was more than an epiphany. If this were a novel, I had the epilogue.

First was my awareness that today I was a stronger woman and a stronger person than I would have been if my relationship with him had continued. It wasn’t that Liam deserved credit for my growth. I deserved that credit.

He deserved nothing.

The other realization was that he knew. When he walked away from me, left me alone in Pittsburgh mourning... he knew Kyle was still alive. He left me alone, and he knew.

That jolt gave me the strength to look him square in the eye. “You motherfucker.”

The green in his eyes glistened as his smile grew.

I waved my hand. “No, you don’t deserve the time or energy that it would take to say what I want to say.” I took a breath. “But I want to know something. You were there. Today”— I clarified— “at the accident. Tell me about Ian and Noah.”

Liam’s smile grew wider as small lines formed near his eyes. There was a coldness I never saw before. It was enough to bring a chill even in this heat.

“Oh, you’re talking about your drivers? Or were they your bodyguards?”

“They’re people I care about.”

His smile transformed to a straight line. “I suggest you find new people to care about.” He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. After twisting off the lid, he handed it to Kyle.

I wasn’t a beer drinker, but compared to the water, seeing the condensation form on the glass bottle was mouthwatering.

Liam retrieved another, twisted the lid, and took a sip before adding, “I know who you could care about. How about my brother? Oh no. That’s right. Your fucking husband killed him. Hey, but if you’re desperate, there’s always me, Em.” He winked. “We were good together.”

“Fuck you, Liam.”

Kyle laughed.

Liam and I both turned toward Kyle.

He spoke to Liam. “I told you to leave my sister alone.” Taking a sip of beer, Kyle leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe I was wrong. She’s feisty around you. I’ll get the popcorn and watch how this turns out.”

“It’s not turning out,” I said. “I’m married.”

Liam’s expression turned to disgust. “In name only.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Is that what you think? Do you think that there’s no man who can come after William Ingalls?” I didn’t let him answer. “Compared to Rett, you’re a kid.”

Liam leaned my direction, lowering his voice. “But he did come after me.”

My pulse raced as I bit my tongue.

“I suppose if he wants leftovers.”

Straightening my neck, I lifted my chin. I wasn’t going to let Liam degrade me for moving on. My thought was petty—but true. I shouldn’t say it, yet I couldn’t stop myself. “Honestly, compared to Rett, I’m not even sure I’d know you were there.”

“Fucking—”

I smiled at his reaction.

Before Liam could reach me, Kyle stepped forward, standing between us. “I was wrong,” Kyle said. “This is boring. Liam, you heard Mother. Get her the information she wants.” He turned to me. “Go downstairs.”

I spoke to Kyle. “I don’t know why you think you’re the commander and chief around here.”

“Because I am, Em. Learn to listen.”

I stood taller. “Whatever you think your plans are for me, you’re wrong. I’m not staying here. Rett will find me.”

Liam straightened his lips. “Oh, so you cared about him, like your bodyguard?” He shook his head. “That list of yours is getting shorter by the minute.”

My circulation stilled as blood rushed to my feet. My body was overtaken by a sense of queasiness his words instilled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your husband—your late husband...”

Liam continued talking, yet the word late had my head in a spin.

Slowly, Liam’s voice emerged through the fog. “...Lower Ninth early this afternoon. You see, there have been some problems between two rival gangs.” Liam shrugged. “Crossfire is a bitch.” He shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll be coming to get you. But the good news is we couldn’t any record of a prenup. That doesn’t mean there isn’t one with Ramses’s attorneys, but damn, Emma. Between Underwood’s money and Ramses’s, you will make your momma real proud with the finances you can bring to this organization.”

Organization?

I refused to consider that what Liam said about Rett was true.

“What organization and how do you know about Ross’s money?”

“Later,” Kyle said.

Frustration and lack of control caused my voice to rise. “I don’t want Rett’s money or Ross’s. I want to leave here and never come back.”

“Rest.”

We all turned as Jezebel appeared in the doorway. Her complexion appeared healthier than it had earlier on the porch. There was something about her—maybe the way the combs now looked like a crown or the presence she radiated. It was a majestic look that held my attention yet was hard to describe.

“Listen to you three,” she said. “I told the spirits I had adults ready to take their rightful places. You sound like children.” She turned to Liam and her cadence slowed. “William, the past is over. Emma is my daughter and will receive the respect she deserves. I can’t speak for the O’Briens, but I’ve known you and Greyson for the last four years. You’ve both been like sons to me.” Her expression hardened. “But don’t let that fool you. Isaiah and Emma are my blood. Don’t overstep, William. The spirits won’t approve.”

It was as if her speech sucked the air out of the room.

That was a figure of speech.

In reality, it was as if the heavy humid air grew thicker. The tendons in Liam’s neck protruded as his jaw clenched.

Finally, he turned to me. “It’s good to see you again, Emma. I’m at your service.”

I wanted to tell him to go to hell or fuck off—there were multiple phrases echoing in my head. Instead, I nodded. It wasn’t until I saw Jezebel looking at me that I added, “Thank you.”

Jezebel grasped my hand and turned it over. While her touch was cool, it was no longer freezing.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out two small blue tablets and dropped them in my palm. “These will help you rest, my dear. The spirits reminded me that this is new to you. There is much for you to process. Take the tablets, rest, and things will become clearer.”

My blue eyes met hers. “Rett isn’t dead. If he were, I’d know.” My mind briefly went back to the underground parking garage the first night I was there. I’d barely gotten to know him, yet when his car drove away, I felt the loss. I looked at her gaze. “I can’t explain it, but I would know.”

She nodded toward the tablets. “Take those and go to sleep. I’ll wake you after I rest.” She turned to Kyle and Liam. “Get Emma some water.”

My pulse sped up as Kyle stepped to the counter and retrieved the glass from earlier. His smile mimicked Liam’s, cold and calculating. Taking a step toward me, he handed me the glass. “Drink up, sis.”