Revenge (12 page)

Both Luc and Heath had warned her that Remy might alter his appearance to aid in his quest. She tried to imagine him with more facial hair than normal, and if she recalled correctly, before he left Texas, his hair had looked longer, too. But she didn't see anyone who fit his profile.

She turned and pointed at the exit, then moved to squeeze past Heath. A sweaty body bumped her, thrusting her against him. Fire exploded under her skin on contact. The person who rammed into her trapped her there, and kept dancing, a decidedly male front side pressed against her backside.

Oh my God!

Slapping her hands against Heath's broad chest, she pushed away, shoving the other man off her back. She faced the personal space violator spewing F-bombs.

“How would you like me to give you a proper Texas ass-whooping,” she shot back.

Fear shot across the man's face, and he backed away with his hands raised.

Sick of the crap, Cody made a hasty exit. Finding a safe spot away from the crowds, she leaned against a wall, revulsion rippling along her muscles. What the hell had she been thinking coming here at night?

“Cody, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—”

She waved off Heath's apology. “Don't say it. Just leave it alone.”

“No, there's obviously more going on inside your head, and I shouldn't have brought you out here. Damn it, Kim was right.”

A toxic mix of hurt and anger surged through her. “I knew it. She told you. She couldn't keep her stupid mouth shut for once.”

“Don't you start hating on your best friend because she was worried about you. If she hadn't, I would have been going in blind with this. I waved it off because what I saw on the gun range told me you'd worked through it enough to handle the pressure. Guess I was wrong.”

“Not you, too. You're going to pull this macho crap on me again.”

“I'm not pulling anything on you. You've got too much going on upstairs. Hell, that's probably why LeBeau didn't want you here in the first place.”

The infamous Lewis temper flared red-hot. Cody swung to slap Heath, but he caught her wrist and quickly restrained her other hand before she could counter. She struggled to free herself.

“Cowgirl, knock it off.”

The barked command blasted through her defenses, crumbling the walls she tried desperately to hold up. Grief washed away her anger, and she sagged. Heath caught her off-guard as he pulled her into his arms. The tender gesture laid waste to her fortifications, and she sobbed, clinging to him.

• • •

Bourbon Street was packed tonight. Usually was on Saturday. And the cops would be out in full force. Remy had to be careful to avoid detection.

Giving a twenty-something, well-endowed brunette a curt nod after she beckoned him suggestively, he took a wide berth around her and headed for a dance club Eddy mentioned was a hang out of some of Jared's minions. As Remy closed in on the building, a familiar form off to the side slowed his pace.
It couldn't be.

He sidestepped a drunken couple and inched closer to the club but used the crowd to keep hidden. There were feminine arms wrapped around the man's waist. No, more like clinging to him. Remy stopped and watched as the two separated.

Shock slammed into him like the impact of a car crashing into a tree.

Cody with Anderson. Cody wrapped up in his partner's arms like two lovers.

His shock was doused with ice-cold water as Anderson smoothed back Cody's mused hair. Did he just caress her face?

Remy's foundation rocked. What the hell were they doing here? Together? Had Anderson been waiting in the wings, hoping for a moment when he could swoop in and be Cody's savior? How long after she broke up with Remy before she ran to Anderson?

Pain in his hands dragged Remy out of his raging jealousy. He glanced down at his palms and noticed the inflamed marks from his nails digging into his flesh. His gaze darted back to the two in time to see them meld back into the crowd and head across the street.

They must be looking for him. Why else would they be in New Orleans, on Bourbon, and at night. Remy kept track of their progress, then followed. If they were searching for him, he needed something tangible to prove it.

Or proof that Anderson had moved in on his woman.

Cody had never crossed Remy as the cheating kind. But then, she'd fooled him once before.

• • •

Embarrassed at having just bawled her eyes out all over Heath's shirt, Cody didn't argue with him about finding another less crowded place to just get a Coke or water. She was emotionally and physically drained from trying to hold up her façade of strength. The doubts she'd kept at bay about coming here and helping Remy had nibbled away at her resolve to the point she was about to pack it up and go home. But she couldn't let him face his enemies alone. She couldn't let him sacrifice himself for revenge.

No. After she and Heath got something to quench their thirst, they'd head back to the hotel. Hopefully the long days would finally take their toll on her and she'd sleep better tonight.

That's what she needed. A restful sleep.

“This looks like a good place,” Heath said and stepped back to allow her entry first.

Cool air buffeted her face as she stepped into a country-western place. A bar lined the back wall, but the dominating attraction was the huge dance-floor half-filled with line dancers. Cody let the atmosphere, so like home, embrace her. Heath got an A for effort on this one.

He found an empty table and told her to sit, he'd get the drinks. While she waited, Cody watched the dancers boot scoot and boogie across the floor. The tempo got to her, and she caught her booted foot tapping along. That song died out and another started. The dancers formed into couples and two-stepped around the floor.

The shadow of broad shoulders fell over her. Tilting her chin up, she eyed the grinning stranger. “Can I help ya?” She impressed herself with the heavy drawl.

Hand gripping the empty chair back in front of her, he leaned forward a fraction. “Well, Texas, I was wondering if you'd wanna take a twirl on the floor with me?”

With the lights at his back, she could make out his features better. Handsome guy, younger if she guessed right, and the muscles looked inspired by free weight machines and not true labor. Cody let her gaze rove down to his tight-fitting jeans and up to his stretched T-shirt. Compared to Heath, the kid was underweight and probably an easy toss. She never underestimated anyone.

Lifting one shoulder, she slid her boots to the floor. “Sure, why not.” She stood, placing her hand in his offered one and allowed him to guide her onto the floor. Cody let her dance partner take the lead.
Well, well, the boy can two-step.
After a tense moment, she let the music sway through her and found herself enjoying the dance. Once that song ended, she slipped into the arms of another man as a new song started. Sweat formed on her upper lip and bare arms, but she kept up with her partner. It had been a long time since she'd danced this much; she'd missed it.

Was Remy a good dancer? Her little jaunt online through the Cajun culture indicated they loved dancing, but it didn't mean he ever participated.

By the next song, thirst raged through her. Begging off with a new partner, she pushed through the bodies back to the table where Heath sat with a large bottle of water. She cracked the seal on the cap, tipped the bottle back, and guzzled.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

She gasped and set the empty bottle down with a thunk. “Yup. Immensely.”

“Ready to call it a night?”

She glanced at the dance floor. Maybe it was the freedom from her stress. Or the joy she remembered that two-stepping with a good dance partner brought her. Whatever it might be, she wasn't ready to give it up yet. She leaned on the tabletop and grabbed Heath's hand. “One more dance.” She yanked him onto his feet.

He followed her onto the floor then snapped his arm back, making her trip into his arms. “Keep up, Cowgirl,” he said in a low voice.

The throbbing beat of the song thundered through Cody's veins. For the second time tonight, she was cradled in his thick, strong arms. It was part unnerving and part exciting. And a little voice in the back of her head asked, “Is he a good kisser?”

She stiffened at that thought. Where did that come from? This was Heath. Remy's partner. Kim's boyfriend. He was nothing more than a good friend.

One eyebrow peaked as Heath waited for her to move with him. Gritting her teeth and setting her shoulders, Cody let herself go. If she could do it with strangers, why not Heath? After all, she'd dragged him out here.

Arms draped over his shoulders, she let the music flow through her. They melded together, bodies pressed around them pushing her closer than she intended. His hands wrapped around her waist, staying far from the danger zone, but enough to tell the other guys he was claiming her.

Ribbons of panic threaded through her veins. Nowhere in their plans had they brought this up. Shit, if Remy walked in here right now and saw them, he'd kill Heath.

Heath leaned forward, his mouth next to her ear. “Relax, Cody. You're stiff as a board.”

“This isn't exactly what I was expecting from you,” she hissed in his ear.

“Rules of war; game plan changes. Move forward.”

She bit her bottom lip to squelch the smile. Always the Marine. Finally relaxed, she let Heath take the lead.

By the time the song ended, Cody was flushed and laughing. They left the dance hall together. A weak breeze buffeted Cody's face as she sauntered along Bourbon. Even the weight of the gun in her boot couldn't drag her down right now. It felt good to be happy again. She skipped and turned to walk backward. “All right, where to next?”

Heath shook his head, his grin strained as if he was trying to suppress it. “Thought we were done for the night.”

“Not quite.” She shifted around and walked forward. “I'm finally having fun.”

“After I made you loosen up.” He caught up with her. “Don't forget the mission.”

“I'm not. A thought occurred to me in there. If Remy is in any of these places scouting for his enemies, and we happen to be in the same place dancing, he won't sit by and let it go. Maybe that's how we find him, flush him out by his jealousy.”

Heath snorted. “Cody, you're dangling my balls like bait.”

“Exactly.”

Catching her elbow, he eased her to a stop and turned her to face him. “Whoa there, Cowgirl. I know you aren't drunk, but this isn't the Cody Lewis I know.”

She poked a finger into his chest. “Nope, this is the Cody Lewis I used to be, a long time ago. I forgot how much I liked her. Minus the alcohol that is.”

“Did someone slip you a roofie?”

Smacking her lips, she shook her head and slipped out of his grasp. “Night's burning, Marine. Let's go. Pick another place.”

Rolling his eyes, he jutted his chin at a neon sign. “That Cajun place.”

With a grin, Cody shifted her hat forward. “Let's see how Cajun it is.”

• • •

Remy had kept to the shadows in the dance hall, watching Cody flaunt and flirt with each guy who danced with her. When she returned to the floor with Anderson in tow, Remy's body went rigid. The two stepped into each other's arms like old partners. With each movement they moved closer until Cody was pressed to Anderson's body.

Rage boiled over. He'd seen enough. Remy stalked out of the building and into the street.

It was because of Cody that he'd come back here. Risked his life to take down the men responsible for destroying his, so he could have a safe life with her. Once out of the picture, She had ran into the next set of willing arms.

His partner's.

Stifling the urge to yell, Remy shoved a path through the drunken throng of dumbasses. He found the nearest strip bar and stormed inside. He was going to knock back a few shots, then he'd finish his mission.

To hell with her.

The atmosphere shifted a fraction. Jared pulled the beer bottle from his lips and set it on the table. A new woman for tonight pressed against him, rubbing her breasts along his chest where he'd been cut by The Queen's Enforcer, making the stitches catch on his shirt. Jared grabbed her shoulders and shoved her away.

“What the hell?” Her high-pitched protest didn't faze him.

He left his corner and scanned the club. Something was wrong. A ripple in the current grated across his spine.

A flash of bright blue caught his attention. Filling the doorway, the woman in the tight-fitting blouse and jeans scanned the crowd then slipped around the crowd to the bar. Red, curly hair.

The shift intensified with her presence.

Hands grappled with his shirt collar and dragged him back. Sticky lips crushed against his. “Not so fast,” his latest hook-up said into his mouth.

Pushing her back, he glared at her. Energy pulsed through his veins. Smacking her about would draw attention. Instead, he dragged her to the chairs and pushed her into one. “Stay here.”

Her eyes widened at his growl and her throat bobbed. Rightly scared.

With his back to the slut, he made his way through the dancers. On stage the live band kept the group going; it was one reason why Jared loved this place: real music, not that crap filtered through sound systems.

He broke past the bodies. The redhead wasn't to be seen anywhere along the bar. Cursing, he moved toward the dancers. The music crescendoed and ended, the last accordion note hung in the air. People stopped, applauding the band.

To his left, he saw the flash of a blue shirt. He shuffled that way. The redhead had her back to him, and she was close to the stage, scanning the crowd again. A man approached her, spoke, and she nodded. He led her out on the floor as the band struck up a new song.

Jared stepped back to the bar. Two drunks scowled at him as he elbowed his way between them. When one made to say something, Jared glared at him. Fear flickered in the man's eyes as he grabbed his beer glass, slid off the barstool, and stumbled away. “Hey, Savard, need refills?” said the bartender.