Loving Selene [The Clay Parish Boys 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 4

  “Save his life and stay away from him. He’s bad news for you and we’re bad news for him.” Remy’s voice was like a growl, low and warning. A shiver of apprehension skittered across her spine.

  The ride back to the motor home was silent except for the soft strains of soulful R and B music playing over the radio. Every time the truck hit a bump or turned a corner she found herself pressed up against either Jac or Remy. By the time they arrived back at the trailer park she was on the verge of screaming. Without a word she jumped from the truck, desperate to get away from them. Not because they frightened her. At least that was what she told herself. Just as she reached the door of the trailer, one of the sources of her disquiet spoke.

  “If you think running away is going to help, then run, baby girl. Run as far as you can.” Selene didn’t miss the grim note in Jac’s voice. Selene didn’t know at the time but she would take his advice and a lot sooner than she would have thought.

  * * * *

  It was the insistent knocking on Selene’s hotel room door that roused her from her sleep. Barely awake, she stumbled from the bed, throwing on a robe as she went to see who was there. Cracking the door she saw Rafael standing there, a dour look on his handsome face.

  “Rafael, is something wrong?” She pulled the door open. The sudden breeze from the hall way brought a chill with it and a subtle reminder of how little she had on. Self-consciously her hands went to the belt of the robe, giving it a reassuring tug. She felt her face flush as she felt Rafael’s eyes traveled over her body and she was reminded of how easily she could have called him and put them both out of their miseries. That inexplicable look was there again, this time a little hungrier than usual. He sighed, his lips pursing slightly as if disappointed he didn’t get to taste a treat.

  “I am sorry, Selene, I have to head to San Francisco. A problem has developed with the Mancuso negotiations and they need a more persuasive voice in the chorus.” For his team of lawyers to call Rafael in to assist was a true call for help. Selene knew his best people were in San Francisco, if they were calling the boss than things had gotten desperate.

  “I should only be a few days and will be back here.” Selene nodded, strangely relieved and frightened at the same time. Over the last couple of days she had gotten used to Rafael’s comforting presence. His strong silent presence made her feel less alone, especially coming back to Louisiana. The place held bad memories.

  “Of course, you have to go. I understand, Rafael.” Selene smiled reassuringly and stepped back as if to close the door. To her surprise he placed his foot at the door jamb, stopping her from shutting it completely.

  “When I get back…we need to talk.” Selene felt her heart thud with sudden anxiety at the prospect of what their “talk” would be about. She should be excited that a man like Rafael had taken an interest in her but all she felt was trepidation. Her feelings must have shown in her eyes because Rafael stepped away from the door, his smile warm but distant.

  “We’ll talk but there is no rush. I’ll be calling you from time to time.” With one last wave he was gone, moving down the hallway in his purposeful take no prisoners stride. Selene gave a last wave and shut the door with a sigh. In her mind’s eye the vast amount of things that needed to be done in the days leading up to her aunt’s funeral loomed before her. Fighting the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, Selene set about getting her stuff together for the drive out to Sparks. A rental car was already ready and waiting for her to pick up the keys, all she needed to do was go get them and get on the road. A wave of fatigue came over her and she sat down on the side of the bed. She’d just sit there for a minute, she thought as she stared at the door.

  “I can do this.” She said it aloud, hoping if she said it enough times it would become true.

  Chapter 4

  “You know she’s probably back.” Remy didn’t bother to look up from underneath the hood of his black vintage ‘67 Chevy Impala. He’d known Jac had entered the massive garage long before the man had said a word. It wasn’t because of the sound of his footsteps because the man moved as silently as a cat and made barely a shuffle on the concrete floor. That was the benefit of having lived in some of the most war torn shit holes of the world, an overdeveloped sense of hearing. He slowly stood up straight, a dull ache in his bad leg signaling he’d been bent over his pet project too long. The tightening of muscles over bones bolted back together with titanium plates. That’s going to bug me later, he thought as he gave his injured leg an apologetic rub.

  Remy had been home for over a year and a half from retirement from the military and there were times it felt like only yesterday. Then again, one never just stopped being a Marine, did they? His VA rep had told him separation from the military was a long process but it felt more like a bad divorce. The nightmares had receded a long time ago but the IED injury he sustained would be with him for the rest of his life. It was a fucking miracle he even survived let alone got to keep the fucking leg in the first place. There were men who had not been so lucky. His fucking men. He fought the urge to reach up to touch the healed scar running down the right side his face. Another little gift from Mr. IED. Looks like God had spared him but had overlooked the man riding in the Humvee next to him.

  “I said-”

  Remy interrupted Jac before he repeated himself. The IED had fucked up his leg, not his hearing. “I heard you the first time, mon frère.”

  Jac was the only man Remy addressed in Cajun French because they were tight like that and he was one of the few people he felt that sort of familiarity with. Even if they were gearing up for another argument about Selene but then there usually was when it came to her. Just like when they were boys tramping the bayou together and getting into God knows what trouble Remy thought with wry amusement.

  Remy remembered the day Gaston Monero hit them up to keep an eye on Selene. “Make sure she ain’t alone too much,” he’d said while holding out a hand stuffed with crumpled dollar bills. Remy used the term “keep an eye on” lightly. Monero was an opportunist of the highest order and he’d roped Remy and Jac into being his little watch pigeons for Selene. The promise of a few extra dollars each week was uppermost in both his and Jac’s minds at the time. Money was lean despite the fact Remy’s family home was one of the most splendid in the Parish. Good old Louisiana aristocracy with none of the money to pay the bills.

  After Remy’s mother had died his father pretty much died along with her except for the fact he was still breathing. That was the curse of Clay men. They loved so deep and hard that when the object of their love died, they tended to cease to exist right along with them. Remy had pretty much raised himself along with Jac and had been known as a “wild child” since he could walk. Monero knew who to draft in his little scheme of babysitting. Remy and Jac had bad boy reputations by the time they were ten and definitely lived like outsiders to the good community of Clay.

  The older man pretty much kept to himself and rarely called upon any of the inhabitants of Clay Parish, which suited most people just fine. Rumor of tragedy followed the man like a specter and even at such a young age Remy could see the bitterness in Gaston’s eyes. Of course Selene had only been just a little kid at the time and the last thing two hellion bayou brats wanted to do was keep up with a pesky girl.

  At first they’d both resented the interruptions of their free time to go venture over to Sparks just to check in on her. She had been just like any girl, Remy supposed, irritating and mouthy. Over time that began to change. Long coltish legs had become shapely and boyish, flat planes had become sweetly rounded in a mind blowing way. The next thing they knew they had a budding sensual creature on their hands that other boys around Sparks began to notice. Truth be told they spent just as much time intimidating would-be suitors as keeping her out of trouble. Monero hadn’t needed to instruct them to do the honors for that. They’d simply didn’t like the idea of any of the young punks around to get any ideas about their Selene. Remy and Jac had never admitted it aloud but t
hey felt an ownership over her that defied reason.

  By the time Selene was seventeen it was not about keeping other boys away from her virtue so much as preserving her virtue for themselves. Then there was that day next to the river that changed everything. Immediately his body responded to the memory of holding Selene’s wet squirming body close to his. Fuck! The silent curse was fraught with frustration and regret. That girl had driven them crazy when they were young. What the hell kind of damage could she do now?

  “At least I know you’re paying attention.” Jac flicked a glance downward to the huge bulge pressing against the front of Remy’s button fly.

  Giving a snort of self-disgust Remy turned away to walk over to the sink to wash the motor oil from his hands. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, the jolt of surprise at the changes in his face no longer as sharp as it used to be. The pronounced scar along the side of his face gave him a sinister look that was forbidding as hell. The tail end of slightly raised knitted flesh caught the corner of his mouth, making him appear as if he was smirking or smiling about a private joke. Some joke, he mused derisively. He’d been told by plenty of women he was attractive, not that he obsessed about his looks but the thought of seeing Selene again made him think that perhaps he should have gone for the plastic surgery the VA had offered.

  Another silent curse filtered through his mind. Scar or no scar he had no problems getting his dick wet. Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to Lizzy Mayfield. The widow was usually up for some uncomplicated sex and it had been a while since he’d indulged in any. Sweet adventurous Lizzy never turned down his and Jac’s brand of pleasure and it had been some time since they’d taken pleasure with the same woman at once. Sometimes it even worked to make him forget about Selene.

  “I expected she would be back. Miss Felicity was the only family who gave a damn about her but you know as well I do that she will not be planning on staying. There’s nothing to keep her here.” Even as the words came out in an “I don’t give a shit” tone, Remy knew he gave a shit. He gave a major unholy shit.

  “So then … this will be our chance to see her again, Remy. At least to see if she’s all right. Please don’t act as if you’re not the least bit interested because I know you’re lying through your teeth on that one, brother. “ Remy watched Jac pace across the floor through the reflection in the mirror. His old friend always paced when he was rattled by something, which was rare but Selene had always had a way of tying them both in knots. He’d be pacing himself if it weren’t for the fact his leg was giving him hell from being over worked that day. Remy sighed in self-disgust, trying again to reason with a man who’d already made his mind up.

  “Frere, she should not be a concern of ours anymore.” Remy hoped he sounded convincing because inside he felt like he was trying more to talk himself into it more so than Jac.

  “ Gaston asked us to keep an eye on her and we did. She’s a grown woman and a long time out of that drunkard Denny’s house and the loving judgmental arms of Sparks.”

  Jac stopped pacing and leveled a speaking look at his best friend. Remy. “Yes, Gaston asked us to look in on her and we did but you know just as well as I do that it became something else entirely the moment we laid hands on her.”

  Remy shook his head in consternation as he walked to the small fridge for an ice cold bottle of water. He ignored the little tremor in his hand as he reached in the fridge. Just the mention of her name and I am fucking basket case, he thought with dark amusement. Remy shut the fridge door with more force than he intended and the thing rocked back against the wall with a thud.

  “Jac, let’s assume that she did come back for the funeral. What makes you think she would even want to see us? It’s not as if we’ve kept in touch over the years. Besides…Gaston would not appreciate us sniffing around her. You know how obsessive that bastard was about her. He would have shot us both if he’d known we’d even taken an interest in her that went beyond being glorified babysitters.” Remy was pretty sure he was understating the facts. Gaston would carve them both up and hang their balls from his wind shield mirror. The old man had wanted them to look out for their young charge but had made no bones about not bringing her back to Clay as a new inhabitant.

  Remy didn’t blame the man quite frankly. The uniquely different views on relationships in Remy’s hometown were not like any place on earth. Unless you were raised in it, you sure as hell didn’t know what to make of it. Three way marriages with multiple husbands were not exactly mainstream America. Their little Selene would have had the shock of her life. Or would she? Growing up she’d been fearless and outspoken. Would life in Clay have unsettled her? A part of Remy really wanted to find out but he’d keep that little tidbit to himself.

  “Are you at least going to the funeral, Remy? We owe it to her aunt. She was a special lady.” The faint crack in Jac’s voice at the mention of Miss Felicity made Remy grit his teeth. The old woman had indeed been good to them. Although she hadn’t approved of them shadowing her niece, a cautious peace developed between them after Selene had left for college. Remy had taken to stopping by her house on occasion. At first it had been to find out what he could about Selene’s welfare but then those visits turned into making small repairs around the house and taking her to the store.

  When Remy left for the military Jac came in his place, continuing to help around her place and act as a taxi to take her where she needed. Hearing about her death left a little hollow place in his chest. Remy hadn’t known anything close to a mother’s love and concern since his own mother had died years before but Felicity had cared. That had meant more to him than he’d ever thought. The grief shadowing Jac’s eyes told a similar story and. he’d miss the hell out of her, just like Remy. Taking a swig from his water bottle, he looked at Jac.

  “Of course I’ll be there but no guarantee Selene will necessarily want us there, Jac.”

  Jac said nothing more, content with his tiny victory in getting Remy to leave his property at all. Ever since he’d come home from the Veterans hospital almost two years ago he’d stayed on his four hundred acre ranch, rarely leaving it . Visiting Miss Felicity had been one of those few times. A lump of pure emotion formed in his throat as he watched his closest friend limp across the room back to the refrigerator. He saw Remy open it and reach inside for another bottle of water. Jac remembered a time when the little fridge would be packed with beer instead of water..

  The unwelcome memories of those early days when Remy had first come home still plagued Jac. The horror of war had manifested in Remy through bad dreams and too much alcohol. For a while he’d feared that Remy would let his personal demons eat him alive and Jac would be forced to just sit back and watch, powerless to help. Months of gentle prodding, cajoling and finally a few bloody fights seemed to bring Remy back from the dark precipice he was on but there was still a darkness about him, a place Jac could not reach. Perhaps Selene could. The spark of hope he felt dimmed with the thought that perhaps she wouldn’t want to. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit the best thing she could do was stay as far away from them as possible.

  Chapter 5

  Selene felt like her face would crack with the constant fake smile she’d held plastered in place for what seemed like hours. When she’d arrived at the funeral home in Sparks she’s been expecting just a few people but it appeared the whole town had turned out to pay their respects. The long “home going” service and even longer reception was almost more than Selene could take. The drive from New Orleans had taken a toll on her, coupled with brief hours of sleep left her feeling drained and irritated. The constant flow of faces, both new and familiar left her almost dizzy. Every one of them seemed to want to meet her but the gleam of curiosity in their eyes made her suspect they were more interested in seeing the prodigal daughter return rather that show their sympathy on her aunt’s passing. How quickly the old bitterness returns, she thought morosely. For all the helpful friendly faces at the reception, there had been damne
d few at the burial itself.

  Selene had stood alone at the yawning darkness of the open grave as they lowered her aunt’s casket into the ground. She’d shivered despite the heavy humid oppressive heat of the midday sun. She’d thought she’d had few tears left to shed but she found herself wiping away torrents of them running down her cheeks. Only at the end of the service did she become aware of the nagging feeling of being watched. As she walked out of the graveyard she cast looks back but only saw the heavily shadowed depths of giant weeping willows that dotted the graveyard like grief stricken mourners shrouded in long veils. Now here she stood amongst so many “concerned” people, and all she felt was grief and a strong case of pissed off. Damn it, she couldn’t help it. All the time she’d grown up dirt poor with nothing but hope and not one of the good people of Sparks had lifted a finger. Even when her mother died and left Selene to the care of Denny, they’d turned the other way as if being unfortunate was contagious. The only ones who’d cared had been Aunt Felicity and…them. Selene tried to kill the thoughts of Remy and Jac before they drew first breath but she was too late. They were already there, alive and kicking at the back of her mind. Damn it!

  “I hope you’ll stay in Sparks for a spell, Selene.” Selene’s attention was drawn back from the bitter memories by the diminutive figure of Mrs. Blesdoe, owner of the local bed and breakfast. The older woman also had the occupation of being one of the town’s worst gossips. Selene had learned at an early age the cutting quality of words, thanks to women like Mrs. Blesdoe. The giant church going hat of bright fuchsia perched on the little woman’s head was almost blinding. The damn thing seemed too festive in the face of the whole purpose of the event.

  “I’ll stay long enough to see to my aunt’s affairs but then I have to go back to work.” Selene forced another pained smile. Mrs. Blesdoe smiled with sympathy, no doubt taking Selene’s strained demeanor as grief. Selene watched the older woman drift off to join a small group hovering next to a refreshment table. The sudden almost irresistible urge to laugh bubbled at the back of her throat. She wasn’t sure what did it, the hat or the circumstances. Either way she was going to lose it if she didn’t get some air.