BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (23 page)

“Why not?”

Now how do I answer that
?  “Last relationship didn’t work out, and I’m busy with work anyway.” 

“Oh.  Well, what would you like in a woman?”

Niall glanced at her.  Her expression was innocent enough.  Maybe she was just making conversation. 

“For starters, I would want an independent woman who could think for herself.” 

“You don’t care about looks?”

“Care more about what’s in here and in here.”  He tapped his chest and forehead.  “Alright.  So, give me your best guess as to where he might go, if he didn’t truly go to a family member’s house.”

“Well, He probably would go to a lower end neighborhood.  This strange thing he stole from Enrique…he might want to try and sell that first, if he hasn’t already.” 

“If, and I’m not saying that I believe the whole presence thing that guy was talking about, but if Joseph thinks it has properties like that, he may try to find out more about it.  That means we should start in the French Quarter.” 

“Why there?”

“It’s the heart of New Orleans Voodoo.”

“Voodoo?  Are you mad?”  Sinclair could feel her eyes straining against her eye sockets.  “Why would you think something that Enrique Arrays would have anything to do with that?” 

“I don’t, but we need a starting point and Joseph would have too.  Hopefully it will be the same area.” 

Niall took the exit where Rt. 10 branched off.  He stayed on Rt. 10 hoping it would lead them into the French Quarter.   

“Maybe we can see Bourbon Street.  I’ve always wondered what the big deal was about it.”  She looked at the dash board display and frowned with a pouty pucker to her lips.  “I thought all newer cars had a built in GPS?”

“No, not all.”  He handed her his cell phone.  “I have one on my phone, but you can pull up Google.  See if you can pull up a map of New Orleans.” 

Sinclair took the phone slowly.  This man was a bounty hunter, and who knew what else, and probably had important things like test messages or numbers on his phone, maybe even pictures of criminals, and he had just handed it to her and told her to use it.  She had once picked up Joseph’s phone, because she had forgotten hers at home, and he had gone nearly stark raving mad; ranting about privacy, and just what did she think she was doing? 

“You going to look it up?”

Sinclair came back from her thoughts and opened the internet browser on his phone.  She slid her finger on the phone several times, and finally said, “It looks like we can take Esplanade Ave off of Rt. 10.  That’s the outer edge, and we can access the quarter by numerous streets.”  She grinned at him.  “Including Bourbon Street.”

Niall laughed and ran a finger along his lip.  “Ok.  Bourbon Street it is.  I’m hungry anyway.”

“Me too.”  Sinclair was amazed she hadn’t thought about food sooner.  Neither of them had eaten anything since leaving Florida. 

“You will have to circle around to Barracks because Bourbon is one way.” 

When they got on Bourbon Street, Sinclair liked how the street was narrow, and where they were was tree lined.  Most of the buildings looked old and were made of wood and brick.  The area had an old feel, which she hoped would be present everywhere they went. 

Niall drove slowly, unsure of where to stop.  Since Bourbon Street was one way it took several attempts of getting on other streets to get them further back from Esplanade.  He eventually parked near a little place that boasted it had European fare and Jazz.

Sinclair got out of the car and looked up and down the street, her lips curving into a smile.  She felt like a child who had been transported to some kind of magical place.  Even with her bright red lipsticks, and often pink clothing; Sinclair secretly loved all that was gothic, and there was something definitely gothic about New Orleans.  Blame it on Anne Rice, but there it was, and all she wanted to do was soak it in. 

She lifted her head and nearly giggled aloud as she scanned the upper balconies of the building beside them and the one across the street.  Beautiful wrought iron decorated the balconies and potted ferns dangled beneath.  She could imagine herself on a hot sticky evening leaning over one of those balconies, watching the night life crawl to life. 

Slatted doors were painted green, and the sidewalk was made of laid brick.  The place had a seedy, almost dirty look, which spoke deeply to her.  It told her that beauty isn’t always what we expect it to be, and she understood the message immediately.   

Niall tried to see what had Sinclair so captivated.  New Orleans was an interesting place, but she was looking at things like she was in Disney World.  It was a street, and they were in front of a bar.  So what?  Sinclair slowly lowered her head, and smiled at him, her body still, one foot turned slightly, and her hands clutched her purse in front of her.  Niall suddenly forgot what he had been pondering and only wished he had a camera.  He wanted to capture what he was seeing forever.  He had enough money from Enrique to splurge a few hundred on a digital camera.  Maybe it would be useful for the job. 

Niall suddenly remembered the camera in his phone and held a finger up to Sinclair. 

“Stay still.”

She tilted her head to the side, which only added to Niall’s mesmorization.  He took two pictures, before sliding the phone into his back pocket.  He would have taken a dozen more, then begged her to allow him to make love to her, but he couldn’t find the words. 

I’m losing my mind
.

Two men passed them going the opposite direction on the sidewalk.  One was tall, a light skinned black man with dreads, the other short and stocky with pale brown hair.  They both looked at Sinclair appreciatively, the man with dreads looking over his shoulder at her as they passed.  Niall felt a bubbling in his chest, and it made his throat raw.  He grabbed Sinclair by the wrist and jerked her forward with a scowl. 

“Hey!”  The happy look she had was now wiped clean. 

“Come on.  I’m hungry.” 

“So am I, but I’m not acting like a total bitch about it!” 

Niall ignored her complaint and he ignored her scathing look from her hand to his profile as they waited to see if they needed to be seated.  Niall was still holding onto her hand loosely, and that was just fine.  It was safer for them to appear as a couple.  Safer for Sinclair.  He grit his teeth sharply as he continued to silently tell himself lies. 

The interior was dark, but slender windows let in light that gave the bar a shadowy feel.  Sinclair could only imagine what it looked like at night.  The chairs and bar stools were upholstered black and the floor was wooden.  The wood had a grainy almost greasy look from generations of feet walking across it.  She wished she could know the exact age of the building.  She wished she could know who built it, and for what purpose.  History was an interest she never quite shook, but was told would never take her anywhere in life.  “Push forward!  Don’t look back!”  Her mother would always say.  But Sinclair didn’t know how one was supposed to learn anything if they didn’t occasionally look back.  How do you learn from your mistakes if you don’t? 

Sinclair looked at her hand within Niall’s again.  She tried to jerk it away as a spunky woman with caramel skin and corkscrew red and black curls came to greet them, but Niall held onto her hand tighter. 

“Hi!  Two?”  She had a small gap between her to front teeth and a black lace choker.  Sinclair immediately wished she could know her. 

“Yes.”  Niall said tightly. 

“Bar or table?”

“Do you have a booth?”

“Sure do!”  She said and grabbed two menus from the bar.  They followed her into the heart of the restaurant/bar, realizing that it was rather large.  The crack of pool balls sounded from another room that was open to the rest of the bar but could be closed off by two curtained glass doors with brass knobs. 

The woman took them to the very back, probably thinking they wanted a relaxing romantic lunch.  If only she knew the truth. 

“What can I get ya’ll to drink?”

“I’ll have a Sprite.”  Sinclair said, grateful to finally be free of Niall’s vice like grip. 

“Corona.”  Niall replied, shocking himself.  He never drank while on the job.  Not after seeing Jerry nearly decapitate himself while chasing a bounty into an abandoned mill.  Now here he was, in New Orleans on the job, and drinking.

“What’s wrong with you?”  Sinclair hissed at him.  She leaned into the table, unconsciously pushing her breasts upward. 

Niall licked his lips, his eyes darting only for a second to the peek of cleavage, before returning to her face.  It didn’t escape Sinclair and she threw her body back against the booth.

“You kiss me on the plane, and now you want to hold hands.  Wanna play footsies too?”

Niall bit down on his tongue, grateful the waitress was back with their drinks. 

“Ya’ll need a few more minutes?”

“Yes.  Thank you.”  Sinclair answered for them both. 

She opened the menu and looked at him curiously once more.  There was no way this man was falling for her, so why the weirdness? 

“I took your hand because two men were ogling you.” 

“So?”

Niall coughed and opened his own menu.  “I thought it might be safer for you to…”

“To what?  Look like we’re together?”

Niall didn’t answer. 

“Ok, Niall, I get it.”  She lied.  She really didn’t understand the man at all, but right then the more pertinent issue was the delectable menu.  She liked how it was all written.  No pictures.  Words were used to tantalize and sell.

“I’m going to order the Bourbon Street burger of mayhem.” 

Niall scanned the menu until he found what she was looking at.  A burger with two kinds of cheese, bacon, fried mushrooms, fried onions, garlic, and a special sauce served between two buttery slices of French bread.  It was like a heart attack waiting to happen, and he was going to eat the whole damn thing.

Niall and Sinclair leaned back in their booth seats and felt the nearly painful satisfaction of full stomachs.  Sinclair burped softly, shook her head, and apologized.

“How about at dinner we just buy some fruit and eat it at the hotel?”

“Sounds perfect.”  Niall said and leaned forward on his elbows.  “We need to get to work.”

“Ask the waitress.”

“Ask the waitress what?”  Their waitress asked, sliding up to the table.  She crouched down and leaned her folded arms on the edge of the table, grinning broadly. 

“We aren’t from around here.”  Sinclair began, glancing at Niall momentarily.

“Ah, tourists.  Looking for a good hot spot or maybe some culture?”

“Not exactly.  If we wanted to research something…something like a stone or trinket…where could we go?”

The waitresses grin vanished.  “I don’t get what you’re asking.”

“We have a friend that we’re meeting here, and he’s not answering his phone.  We knew he was coming to maybe sell something. But we aren’t sure what.  He had it in a little velvet bag.”

The woman snickered.  “You talk in riddles, but that’s cool.  Look, if it’s jewelry or something the most logical spot would be a pawn shop.  If it’s…”  She lowered her voice.  “Something more questionable then I really can’t help you.  I don’t indulge in extracurricular activities like that.”

“We’re not asking about selling drugs.”  Niall said quietly.  “Whatever he has is of some value and is rumored to be of importance…special even.”

The woman’s mahogany eyes lit up, and her voice went a pitch lower.  “You mean something connected to the
Voudon
?” 

“We aren’t sure.” 

She took a blank page from her ticket book and turned it over.  She scribbled an address on it and slid it to Sinclair. 

“Go there.  It’s an antiques store up front, but in the back…well, you’ll see.”

Sinclair smiled and tucked the paper in her purse.  “You have been a great help, thank you.”

The woman sobered and she stood slowly.  “Be careful if you dabble in the Voudon.  Some say it’s just a bunch of myth and make believe.  Some would argue it’s real.”  Her tongue pushed at the inside of her cheek, and she lowered her eyes.  “Those who think its real guard its secrets…and they won’t like anyone nosing around about it.” 

Sinclair nodded her understanding, careful to pin a false smile in place. 

“No worries.  We just need to find our friend.  I doubt he’s interested in that stuff.  He just wants to sell his item.”

The woman nodded, but her face spoke volumes on how much she doubted their story.  Niall handed her money for the ticket and her tip; careful to tip her generously.  Sinclair and Niall slid from the booth, and the woman called after them, her perk returning, but her eyes still troubled. 

“Come back and see me before you leave New Orleans!”

“We will!”  Sinclair called back, hoping the shudder trying to run down her back didn’t show. 

The waitress cleared the table and nearly ran head first into the barrel chest of her boss. 

“Claude!  You scared me to death!” 

He stared down at her, his thick salt and pepper mustache twitching.