Claim (Fury Brothers #5)

18. Beau

18

BEAU

“ W here are we going?”

“Out for lunch.”

Bell fiddled with her Hard Burn polo shirt. “Okay. I’m not really dressed to go out, though.”

“This place doesn’t require dressing up.” I took her hand. I wanted to get her away. Out of the city, where there would be no fear that Chandler Carr would pop up and attack her. I led her to the back of the gym.

The first thing I’d done after Bell started work this morning—her belly full of breakfast— was look up Carr. My jaw tightened. What I’d read had made my skin crawl. He was a predator, through and through. He didn’t just like to kill, he liked to torture and torment his victims.

Well, he might like to prey on helpless, young women, but now, he’d have to take on someone bigger and tougher.

“Bell.” I gripped her shoulder.

She looked up at me, and damn, I saw the trust on her face. I knew she’d been alone, with no one to lean on, for a year.

“I called my brother, Reath. He owns a security company.”

She stiffened.

“I told him about Carr.”

She pressed a palm to her cheek. “God, your brothers must hate that I brought this right to your doorstep.”

“Hey.” I turned her to face me. “They won’t stand for an asshole like Carr murdering innocent women or terrorizing you. Reath’s looking into him.”

“Okay.”

“We also have a friend in the New Orleans police department. He’s going to do some digging. Simon’s a detective, and he isn’t real keen on a serial killer operating on his turf.”

She nodded, her face uncertain. She didn’t get that she was no longer alone in dealing with Carr. Now, she had the full force of the Fury Brothers on her side.

“Come on.” I pushed open the door to my garage. Right now, I wanted her to forget for a while. Right now, there was no Carr. No fear or anxiety. I wanted Bell calm and relaxed.

“Oh, nice cars.” She eyed my restored muscle car parked next to my black Rivian. She gently ran her fingers over the red hood of the car. “This is so cool.”

“She’s a 1969 Ford Boss 302 Mustang. I did all the work myself. Well, my brothers helped a little.”

“It’s great, Beau. It suits you.” She smiled. “Are we going in this?”

“Nope.” I skirted the car. “We’re going on this.” My Triumph Bonneville.

“Oh, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

There were some helmets hanging on the wall, and I grabbed one and handed it to her.

“That pink one’s cute.” She pointed to a small, pink helmet on the wall.

“For Daisy, my niece.” I set the helmet on Bell’s head and tightened the straps.

“One of your brothers has a daughter?” She tilted her head. “None of them looked like the typical dad.”

I chuckled. “Colt. Daisy is technically his niece, but he adopted her.”

Bell smiled. “I bet you all spoil her rotten.”

“Guilty as charged.” I turned and found a leather jacket that wouldn’t absolutely swamp her. “Put this on. The weather’s a little cool today.”

As she did the jacket up, I pulled my own on. Then I threw my leg over the bike. I took a second to pull my own helmet on, then I patted the seat behind me.

She climbed on, settling on the leather. “I should have known you’d have a bike. It suits you too.”

“Colt has a Harley. We ride together when we can.” I pulled her arms around my waist. “Hold on tight.”

She leaned into my back, and I felt a strange sensation.

Contentment.

I liked her there.

I started the engine and pressed the remote. The garage doors opened, and a second later, I rode out.

Bell clung tight as we drove to the Crescent City Connection Bridge. As we crossed the river, I could tell she was looking all around, enjoying the view.

As I got off the expressway, taking some smaller roads as we headed south, the sun valiantly tried to make an appearance. I liked to ride. I liked the wind in my face, the road stretching out ahead of me. I rarely had a passenger, but having Bell with me added to the experience.

Finally, we went south through the city, heading toward the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve. City gave way to wetlands and bayou.

We rode past a slow-moving creek, bounded by dense vegetation. After another mile, I turned onto a private driveway, slowing down as we wound through the trees. I pulled to a stop.

I helped Bell off the bike. She looked around.

“Where are we?”

“On the edge of one side of the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve.”

Her eyes widened. “Jean Lafitte the pirate?”

I smiled. “He was a complicated guy, and one of the most infamous characters in New Orleans history. He was a smuggler, a pirate, a spy, a folk hero. He did help fight off the British during the Battle of New Orleans. In return for a pardon for his crimes, of course.”

She smiled back. “Of course.”

“I like him. He did what he had to protect what was his.” I shrugged. “I guess I enjoy the shades of grey.” I held out my hand.

She took it.

“A friend owns this land.” We reached the edge of the bayou. It was all dark, still water and cypress trees.

“Wow. It has a haunting sort of beauty.”

I held her hand and led her to a wooden walkway. It ran along the water’s edge and ended at a large, square platform over the water, circled by a railing.

In the center of the platform was a table with a white tablecloth, and plates covered by silver dishes.

Bell’s mouth dropped open. “What is this?”

“Lunch.” I held out a chair for her. “My friend who owns the land is also an exceptional chef. He owns a local restaurant on the bayou not far from here.”

“You did this? For me?”

I nudged her into the chair. “For you.” I sat across from her. “Out here, there are no bad guys or anything to worry about. There’s only us, and maybe a few gators.”

“Beau…” She pressed her hands to the tablecloth. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

That fucking broke my heart. I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You just need to relax, eat, and enjoy. Think you can do that?”

She nodded, her smile wide and happy. I realized that she didn’t smile enough.

“Let’s see what we have.” I lifted the lid off the dishes.

“It smells great. I love crawfish.”

“We have crawfish étouffée, chorizo jambalaya, and Cajun fried shrimp. All my friend’s specialties.” I served up the food, then poured us sparkling water from a cooler.

Bell ate with gusto, moaning, and asking for more. It gave me huge satisfaction watching her eat.

“This is so great, Beau.” She looked out over the water.

“You deserve it.”

She looked back, her smile fading. “Carr won’t stop. I’ll never be safe.”

I growled. “You’ll be safe when we stop him.”

“The police have tried and failed.”

I rubbed a finger through the condensation on my glass of water, wishing I could have five seconds in the ring with Chandler Carr. “I won’t fail.”

She looked stricken. “If he knows you’re in my life, he could target you. He threatened my mom.” She reached for my hand. “I don’t want you hurt, Beau. I couldn’t bear that.”

“You’re worried about me?” No one worried about me. I was a big, tough motherfucker.

“Yes.” Her hand was so small and slender compared to mine.

“Don’t worry, Bell. I’m not easy prey.” I stroked her wrist. “I won’t let him hurt you. I protect what’s mine.”

She stared at me. “You could have any woman you want. Like Klara. I’m…a mess.”

I pushed my chair back, then reached over and lifted her out of her chair. I set her on my lap.

“You’re strong, courageous. You grieve for your friend and protect your mom. You’ve sacrificed so much to survive. That’s pretty fucking special to me.”