Empower (The Violet Eden Chapters, #5)

‘I told you I was going to show you some of the other reasons people come to New Orleans.’


Intrigued and petrified at the same time, I let him lead me down the busy road, dodging bodies, and then down a significantly quieter side street. ‘Is it why you came here?’

‘No, but it’s what I found.’

With that cryptic message worthy of my angel maker he opened a painted black door and pulled me down a narrow staircase, keeping hold of my hand the entire time. My world was suddenly submerged within the sounds of a slow drumbeat, a smooth piano and the overwhelmingly sensual tones of a saxophone.

I paused at the base of the stairs. ‘I … wow.’

‘Yeah.’ Lincoln squeezed my hand. ‘Wow.’

He pulled me into the dark bar, dominated by black furniture and red curtains, towards a small round table in the corner that had a small loveseat wrapped around it.

A waitress in a short black dress and dangling earrings was with us before we sat. ‘Can I get you two some drinks?’

‘I’ll have a beer,’ Lincoln said, looking to me.

‘Me too,’ I said. She nodded and asked to see my identification. I showed her my fake ID, which listed me as twenty-one.

Lincoln noticed it. ‘Evelyn?’

I nodded. ‘She has a lot of contacts. When we …’ The word left lodged in my throat. ‘She, um … she took me to one of her contacts and he’s been looking after me ever since.’ I didn’t elaborate, but I’m sure he’d worked out in the time he’d been trying to find me that I had more than a few aliases and passports. If I needed to, I could disappear quickly.

But do I need to?

Our drinks arrived and we sipped slowly while we listened to the sounds of the band rebounding off the walls. I was in overdrive, so fixated on the man sitting next to me that I swear I could feel the rise and fall of his chest with his every breath. Hell, at one point I thought I could hear his heart beating. I really needed to get it together.

‘So, this is jazz?’ I asked. I’d never really heard it like this – live. No, alive.

Lincoln leaned close to my ear. ‘No, Vi. This is New Orleans.’

And then, forcing myself to ignore the warmth of his breath against my neck, I started to understand.

For all the bad that might be here, this city had a soul.

And with that realisation came the solidification of my role in this fight.

I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and watch another soul break.

We sat in silence for a while, and I watched the musicians do their thing. The trumpet player stood out in his black-rimmed glasses, faded brown shorts and loose T-shirt. He looked awkward beside his band members, who all wore crisp tuxedos, and yet he drew attention from the crowd. He was a trumpet geek and somehow that worked for him, made it real. He wasn’t performing. He was at home, doing all he’d ever known or wanted. I recognised the far-off look as something I might once have had when I held a paintbrush. I hadn’t painted since I’d left home.

I envied him.

He was so content, as if through his music it all made sense. It was thrilling to see. And devastating.

My throat tightened, the air surrounding me becoming too thick to breathe.

Lincoln was suddenly standing, pulling me to my feet so I was close to his body. I could feel the heat coming off him, my body zapping it up hungrily.

‘Enough?’ he murmured, and even over the sounds of the band his voice was clear.

I licked my lips as I looked up at him. His eyes held mine and I was shocked by the realisation that his reflected no fear.

‘Linc?’ I whispered.

He let out a sigh. ‘Vi,’ he said softly.

I was lost in his eyes. Engulfed in sun-warmed honey.

‘Do you still dread me?’

His left hand encircled my waist and I knew I should be moving away, but I didn’t, not even when his other hand moved up to cup my face. All I could do was watch him as he said, ‘I stopped trying to deny this love a long time ago.’ If possible his eyes became even more intense. ‘I’m not afraid of us being together any more. Not one bit. Violet, I … I breathe you. I live you. I love you.’

I swallowed, locked in his gaze.

He moved closer, so his lips were just millimetres away from touching mine. ‘The only thing I dread is another moment of my life without you as mine, the way I’m forever yours.’

Spellbound, I waited for his lips to collide with mine, to take what I knew he wanted, but he held so still. So close. And yet I realised quickly that he might have done all the work to get this far but he wasn’t going to close the last distance.

That was my bridge to cross.

My heart hammered so loudly I was sure the entire bar could feel the pulse.

Lincoln breathed heavily, his breath grazing my lips. But he stood his ground.

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