Burning Love (Hell Yeah! Cajun Style) Read online

  “Burning Love”

  CAJUN SPICE I

  By

  Sable Hunter

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012

  Sable Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  www.sablehunter.com

  Prologue

  Brownwood Children’s Home – New Orleans – Sixteen Years Ago

  “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you.” Beau held his arms open and Nada ran into them. He just prayed he could keep his promise. She was so little and so very brave.

  “He hurt you, too. I saw him.” She whispered into his chest, her arms clasping him tight around the middle. Nada didn’t know what she’d do without Beau. Pell was getting more and more demanding. Just today, she had barely eluded the police. Mardi Gras was usually an easy time for pickpockets, but the cops were cracking down. Sometimes Nada thought it would be easier if she were arrested. How much worse could juvee be than Brownwood?

  He ran a hand over her neck and noticed it was wet. Damn! “You’re bleeding! He’s already whipped you, hasn’t he?” At her slight nod, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the sink in the small room. “Let’s get that blood off and I’ll put some medicine on you.” Turning on the tap to let the water heat up, he went and put a chair underneath the doorknob. That small amount of security wouldn’t stop Pell, but it would slow him down and deter any of the other kids from intruding on their privacy. Brownwood housed twenty-five unfortunate orphans or runaways and it existed because Pell could afford the bribes to keep the authorities at bay.

  Taking a raggedy washcloth, he wet it and stood there awkwardly, trying to determine the best way to proceed. Finally, he said, “Take your shirt off, I won’t look.”

  Nada slid her T-shirt up and off. She had no bra – not that she needed one. Still, she was embarrassed. Holding the scrap of cotton over her chest, she turned her back to Beau. “I only got two wallets and a few credit cards, not enough to make him happy.” The drag of the rag on her skin stung a little. “Sharon is missing.”

  “I know.” God, her little back was striped. Bastard. “We’ve got to figure a way out of this mess, or one of us will go missing, too.” He knew the score, and usually he stole enough to pacify Pell, but it went against everything in him. Beau wasn’t a thief and being forced to steal made him sick. He didn’t like to take hard-earned money from innocent people, no matter how drunk they were.

  “Beau, can I stay in here with you tonight? Pell comes into my room at night and I try to pretend that I’m asleep. He just stands there in the shadows, watching me. I’m afraid of him.” Nada hated to ask, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  “He’s coming in your room at night? Hell! Honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “Ssssss,” she made a small noise of pain when he put alcohol on the raw places. “Where did you get that stuff? It burns!”

  “Sorry, if it stings. I bought it at the drug store with some of the money I filched. We have too many ‘accidents’ as it is, we don’t need an infection to boot.” He longed to protect her. But could she sleep with him? Damn! Would it be a sin? He liked girls, and he liked Nada, a lot. But, she was only thirteen and he was sixteen – old enough to know better. This little angel was innocent.

  Nada understood. Beau hadn’t said anything when she had asked to stay with him. That meant he would rather she didn’t. She wouldn’t ask again. After all, she was nobody. She was Nada. That was her name. The word Nada meant nothing, nobody. Her father had given her that name, put it on her birth certificate, and ground it into her head – everyday – ‘you are nobody’. ‘Nobody will ever want you. You are nothing.’ Years of abuse and humiliation had taught her to expect nothing. So, when she asked for something, Nada would only ask once and would show no emotion when she was told ‘no’. “That’s okay. I appreciate you doing this for me.”

  “All right, I’m finished; you can put your shirt back on.” He turned away while she pulled it back over her head. When she was dressed again, he faced her. Nada’s dark hair hung in gentle waves and her amber eyes were huge in a face that reflected too much sadness for one so young.

  “Thank you, Beau.” She noticed his face was bruised, and she couldn’t help but reach out to touch it. “Do you need me to doctor you anywhere?”

  “No, I’m all right.” He put the lid on the disinfectant and hung up the cloth in the bathroom. When he came back, she was leaving. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to my room.” She looked confused. “Why?”

  “Stay with me.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take care of you.” When she smiled, his heart contracted. It was wrong, the way he felt about her. She was too young. And so damn fragile.

  “Really? I need to go get my pajamas.” She was about to go when he stopped her.

  “You’re already here; we don’t want to attract too much attention. They’ve already done room check for the night; you can sleep in one of my t-shirts. How’s that?” Beau pulled back the covers on the narrow bed and considered that they would have to sleep close. He just hoped he could hold her during the night and not get a boner. That would be the last thing she needed. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world, but he was a guy and she was a very beautiful girl. Somehow, he didn’t think she realized how lovely she was. Opening a drawer in the dresser, he took out a clean shirt for her to wear. “You go change and I’ll get in the bed. I’m through in the bathroom.”

  “Okay.” Nada scurried to the bathroom and did her business, rubbing her teeth with a bit of toothpaste on her finger. She was about to sleep with a boy! Oh, not really – she knew that. He wasn’t interested in her that way. But this was still the most special night of her life – she was going to be close to him. It was a small bed; he might even hold her. Looking in the small mirror, she studied her own face. She was nothing special, obviously. Her boobs hadn’t budded much beyond an A cup and the rest of her body was a little too curvy by popular standards. Tonight was a gift; Nada knew that – a precious gift.

  “Are you okay in there?” Beau tapped on the door. It’s almost time for lights out; we don’t want to give anyone a reason to come in.”

  After only a few more minutes, she shut off the bathroom light, and walked out into the bedroom. It was dark. “Are you sure you want me?” she began hesitantly. “I mean are you sure you want me to stay in here with you?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “Come here, Nada. I want you with me.” And he did. Beau knew this place would be unbearable without her. She divided her food with him. Pell had a cruel streak, and he withheld food from some of the bigger boys to try and keep them in line. But his Nada would slip extra rolls in her napkin and put them back for him. Anything she could sneak from the kitchen, she hoarded back to supplement his short rations. And that wasn’t all, a couple of times when Pell had been about to thrash him for not meeting his quota, Nada would knock something over – spill something – do anything she could to get the focus off of him and onto her. Pell made her pay for that kindness, harshly. Beau threw the bedcovers back. “Walk straight ahead; it’s just a couple of steps.” When he felt the mattress give under her slight weight, he felt a thrill. “That’s my girl.”

  ‘His girl’. He’d never know how much she longed to be his girl. The nights had been cool and the thought of curling up next to him while she slept was intoxicating. “Where are you?” She knew he would be able to hear the excitement in her voice. “This is sort of like a sleep ov
er, or a slumber party. Isn’t it?” As she slipped beneath the covers, her legs came into contact with his. They were strong, muscled and hair-roughened and his maleness made her go soft inside.

  “Lie down on my arm and let me hold you.” He held his breath as she nestled her small body down against his. Her head rested on his arm and she fit herself to him, automatically throwing an arm around his waist and a leg over his lower regions. Hell! There was no way his body would be immune to her nearness. She let out a deep, restful, relieved sigh as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “I like this,” she whispered. “Nothing in the world can bother me here.”

  “No, you’re safe with me,” he kissed her forehead. He couldn’t resist.

  Rivulets of fire raced over Nada. She didn’t exactly understand why her body felt so electrified, but she did know there was no other place she’d rather be than with this boy. “Beau, what’s going to happen to us? Are we ever going to be able to get away? Living on the street is safer than being here.” As she talked, she stroked his arm – up and down - over and over again, enjoying the feel of hard muscle beneath her fingers.

  “Soon, I’m going to try and get away, go get some help.” A plan was forming in his mind, he had been thinking about it for some time. But knowing how scared Nada was, he realized time might be running out for them. He had no idea that Pell had been going into her room at night. “Until then, I want you to be careful. Do you hear me?” He pulled her tight against him. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. You belong to me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.” Against all better judgment, he lowered his head to kiss her on the lips. In the dark, he sought her mouth with his own. It was a sweet, gentle kiss – mostly innocent – a clinging of the lips, a mixing of their breaths, an exchange of promises, hopes and dreams. “You are mine, Nada. Don’t ever forget my words. You are mine.”

  His words thrilled her heart almost as much as his kiss. She had never been claimed by anyone before. Surely, there was no better feeling in the world. “I trust you, Beau-ray. I trust you.”

  He had held her close throughout the night – it was the first and last time she had been truly happy.

  Chapter One

  Philadelphia, PA – LibertyOne Plaza – Socorro – Present Day

  “What, in the name of God, are we going to do now, Chief?” the younger member of the Philadelphia bomb squad was white as a sheet. ”There’s no way in hell we can use the robot to get to this one.”

  Chief Murphy looked up at the tall high rise that was destined to transform the Philadelphia skyline. “I think that was the idea, Tim.” He was more worried than he let on to his crew. If the explosive device on the tenth floor main truss were to detonate, the whole structure would come down and he hated to think about what the blast would do to the apartment buildings surrounding LibertyOne Plaza. “That’s why ATF is bringing in Socorro.”

  “What has Socorro got that we don’t, Sir?”

  “Socorro has Harley Montoya. If anyone can get in there and diffuse this monster, Harley can.” Shouts from uniformed cops let the Chief know that Socorro was approaching. A path was cleared and a black H1 Hummer came rolling up beside them and slowed to a standstill. Several ATF agents approached the vehicle ready to provide whatever assistance necessary. The driver’s side door opened and someone hopped out.

  “Is that him, Chief? He’s not very tall.” Tim craned his neck to see the man who had been called in to save the day.

  “That’s because Harley Montoya is a woman, Son” A very beautiful woman, he could have added, but that wouldn’t have been professional. “She is a former Navy Special Forces Captain, a very talented one. Some say she’s psychic and that gives her an edge, others say she has a magic touch. Either way, she has diffused bombs that no one else would even attempt. Harley left the Navy two years ago, only she knows why. But our government keeps her on the payroll and when she’s needed – she comes. In the world of Explosive Ordinance Disposal, she is one of the undisputed authorities.”

  “Wow,” Tim Renfro watched the petite dark-haired woman slip on the 80-pound protective suit. He knew it was outfitted with internal cooling, amplified hearing and embedded radio communications that would allow her to talk to the control area while she tried to disarm the massive bomb. “I can’t believe a woman that looks like her has the know-how to go in there and do what all of these man can’t.”

  Murphy chuckled, “Watch her.” He had seen Harley in action before and a cooler head he had never encountered. “You can bet she’s already been briefed and while she drove in, she was rehearsing a plan of action in her mind. They say she has one of those analytical minds that allows her to visualize every step before she places herself in the hot seat. When Harley goes in, and she goes in alone, she will know exactly what to do.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Renfro stepped aside as the men in blue forced all unnecessary personnel behind a hastily erected protective barrier. “I’d hate to pin all of my hopes on that pint-size pixie, unless I was hoping for a good time,” he muttered under his breath as the scream of sirens heralded the arrival of ambulances. EMT’s and the fire department had been called in - just in case everything fell apart.

  *****

  Harley took the long walk. That’s how she always thought of it, no matter if it were a mile, two hundred yards or twenty feet. It was a long walk. She faced death with no one beside her – no partner, no team, no one to back her up or take her place. What she focused on was saving the situation, she knew if she failed there was more at stake than the loss of her life – there were the lives of others.

  At least she had no hostages to fortune. If the worst happened, Harley left no one behind that would mourn her passing. The fact that she was a solitary gave her strength to face the unthinkable. She could look her mortality in the face and know she was expendable. She had no husband, no children, no parents – no one who would wake up the next day after her death and be devastated to know she was gone. And that’s the way she wanted it. She had no desire to bear the burden of someone else’s happiness.

  The very name of her company, Socorro, said it all. A Socorro was a type of mourning dove and the dove was a symbol of peace. Harley felt that the work she did, ridding the world of dangerous explosive devices, was her gift of peace. And since the Socorro dove was known as the solitary dove, never spotted in a flock – always alone, it just fit her. The very word Socorro meant to offer help, so she identified with it – she was Socorro.

  The construction elevator was small and rattled like a two-bit radio. All sounds were muffled in the suit and the ice vest cooling unit made her feel as if she were sitting naked in a deep freeze. Her arms ached from carrying the portable x-ray machine and her bag of tools, in addition to having to move around in the heavy suit. That was the only drawback she had ever had – her size. But what she lacked in size, she made up for in determination and grit. With a jerk and a loud creak, the temporary construction elevator ground to a halt. She stepped out on the deserted platform, about 108 feet off the ground. Harley disliked heights with a passion. She picked her way across the girders and tried not to look down.

  The bomb came into view. Good Lord! They had to be dealing with a seriously psychotic individual. Somebody wanted to do this city, and her friend’s family, some major damage. On the way, today, she had been informed who owned this building. It was quite a coincidence that she was close to the Gaines Family. Not that she would work any harder to disarm this bomb than any other that crossed her path. She put the same amount of effort into each one – everything she had.

  The device had to have been brought up in sections. As she drew nearer, she determined that the explosives themselves were housed in three grocer boxes. From the report she received, she learned that the boxes were full of semtex, a deadly plastic explosive. There was enough power here to do untold damage. The blast wave alone would shatter glass for several city blocks.


  Falling to her knees next to the bomb, she set up her x-ray equipment to analyze where the fuses were and how she could neutralize the threat with the least amount of invasive scrutiny. Looking through the LED screen, she saw a tangle of wires between the layers of semtex. This made no sense. Bomb makers today used remote controls and microchips that could be dealt with through trepanation – a boring of a hole in the side of the bomb where the triggers could be liquefied with an acid bath. No, this would have to be done the old fashioned way – she would have to snip wires and pray she picked the right ones.

  With delicate moves, she began lifting out bricks of semtex to get to inner workings. How tempting it was to just try and empty the boxes of the plastic explosive, but she knew time was of the essence. There was no countdown display, and that made her need to be methodical maddening. Now, there were probably only seconds left. She would have to act, and act fast.

  Quickly, she removed the last layer, exposing the colored plastic wires. For a moment, she was stunned. This looked familiar, she knew this pattern. Impossible. He was dead, she had seen him die. Was this some kind of cruel trick? Closing her eyes for just a moment, she used her secret weapon. Rubbing her fingers over the cluster of wires, she used a combination of knowledge and insight – took her wire cutters and held her breath. Snip. Breathe. Moving the blue wire out of the way, she snipped the green one. Breathe. She wore no gloves; they would just get in the way. Using one fingernail, she lifted the yellow wire – yellow or black, yellow or black. It could be either – making her mind a blank, she waited for the answer. Yellow. Snip. Breathe. No explosion. Every muscle in her body relaxed. She would live another day.

  *****

  Deep in the South - Atchafalaya Basin – Louisiana

  Beau LeBlanc steered his pickup down the levee road toward the Guidry homestead. He would have liked to be out in his airboat plowing through the water lilies, fishing for catfish. Instead, he and Indiana had been called to wrangle a big bull gator who had been plaguing the fisherman trying to make a living along Bayou Chene. These Cajuns had known too many problems recently – the BP oil spill, the Mississippi River flooding and now a rogue alligator who was getting too aggressive around their homes. The locals had named him Godzilla; he had begun his reign of terror by tearing up their traps and snapping their trotlines and continued it by crawling up in their yards and eating their dogs and cats. Most of them were afraid to let their children out to play. So Beau had been summoned to move the old monster to a safe place before he became a man-eater and would have to be destroyed.