Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)

Once at home, I can’t stop pacing. Thinking.

I’m so fucking pissed off. What is she thinking? I don’t buy the whole my counselor says bullshit. What happened today?

I want to march back over there and make her listen to me, but that will only end in disaster. I won’t sleep. I can’t sit still.

So I call Ethan.

“I know it’s late, but I need a favor,” I say when he answers.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to meet me at the dojo. I need to kick someone’s ass, and you are one of the few I know who can keep up with me.”

“I could use a few rounds in the ring with you. It’s been a minute since we sparred.”

“I’m heading there now.”

Aside from the Boudreauxes, Ethan is one of my closest friends, and one of the best Krav Maga masters I’ve met. He’s an asset to my team, and an excellent sparring partner.

He’s already there when I arrive. It’s dark inside, with just the small dojo lights on.

“What’s up, man?” he asks as I walk in.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply. “But you’re going to need a helmet because I’m fucking pissed and I’m going to try to kick your ass.”

He grins. “Fun.” He’s smart enough to get a helmet, and I advance, not pulling any punches. Ethan is shorter than me, but just as strong. He takes me down and we struggle for a few minutes until I work my way loose and reverse our positions. I punch him and then roll away, giving him a chance to get back up.

We go like this until both of us are lying on the mat in exhausted heaps, both of us on our backs.

“You’re pretty worked up,” Ethan says as he struggles to catch his breath. “Is it the financials?”

“That’s only a piece of it,” I reply and sit up. “It was maybe the shittiest day of my life.”

“Shittier than that time you lost in the ring to that kid from Canada?”

“Yes.”

“Shittier than the day you stopped fighting for the MMA?”

“Yes.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The MMA?”

He nods.

“No. I beat my body up daily so I could whoop ass in a cage. I’m too old for that shit now. I like my business.”

“You’re good at it.” He tugs his helmet off and winces. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t stubborn and told you to shove the helmet up your ass.”

“I could go another round.”

He glances at me, surprised. “I’m done, man. Go hit the bag. Or go home and fuck your girlfriend.”

I growl and stalk away from him.

“Ah, she’s one of the problems.” He laughs. “Makes sense. My wife drives me batty eighty percent of the time. But she’s the best thing I’ll ever have in my life.”

“I don’t really want to talk about women,” I reply. “You can take off. I’ll punch the bag for a bit.”

But after he leaves, I don’t have the energy to keep punching the bag. I can’t go home. There are too many memories of Van there, and I’ll just make myself crazy.

So, I go to my office and lay down on the couch. It’s quiet here at night. Haunted as fuck, with footsteps up in the attic. I use it for storage, and where the footsteps are, is currently covered in boxes.

But that doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it.

What bothers me is that Savannah has shut me out. If she thinks it’s over, she doesn’t know me very well.





Chapter Seventeen


Savannah

Seeing the pain on Ben’s face when he left my house is conceivably the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Every word I said to him cut me inside, and I wanted to run after him to tell him the truth, to beg him to help me.

But I couldn’t.

I can’t.

Ben can’t fix this. No one can fix this.

Except me. I just pray that when it’s all said and done, Ben can forgive me.

I turn out all of the lights on my way up to my bedroom. I don’t expect to sleep tonight, so I grab a notebook and pen and settle on the bed, ready to make several lists.



It’s warm today. Almost too warm, especially out here on the water. I’m wearing a super wide brimmed hat, protecting my face and shoulders from the sunshine. Daddy and I are floating lazily on the lake, our fishing poles lying on the bottom of the boat.

“Fish aren’t biting today,” Daddy says. “But that’s okay. Sometimes it’s nice to just sit on the water and enjoy the quiet.”

I nod and lean back, closing my eyes. “It’s a nice day. A bit warm.”

“You never did like the hot weather.”

I grin. “I don’t know how I could have been born in Louisiana and not like warm weather, but you’re right. I actually prefer a cold, rainy day. But it’s nice to be out here with you today.”

And then I remember. Pain slices right through me, just as bright as the day he died.

“I’ve missed you,” is all I can say. Daddy smiles softly and reaches out to pat my knee.

“I’m with you,” he says. “You can’t always see me, but I’m never too far away.”

“I’m glad you come to me in dreams,” I reply and sigh happily when the sun slips behind a cloud. “That’s better.”

“I love spending time with you, baby girl, but we have something to discuss.”

“We do?”

There’s no humor in his eyes now as he nods solemnly. “You know we do.”

Lance. The prison. The photos. It all hits me again, and I just feel ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“What, exactly, are you sorry for?”

“I’ve put the family in danger again.”

He shakes his head impatiently and takes his fishing hat off his head long enough to scratch his hair and then pushes it back on.

“For such a smart little thing, there are moments that I want to throttle you.”

“You never throttled me,” I reply. “And I’m not being dumb.”

“Savannah Jean Boudreaux, you didn’t do anything wrong. And you know it.”

“It’s happening again,” I murmur. “He’s threatening to hurt our family, all because I fell in love with Ben all over again and he and I are trying to be happy together. Lance will never sit back and let me move on from him.”

“You know what to do,” Daddy says gently. “You’ve already put the plan into motion. It’s a shame that Ben was caught in the crossfire.”

Thinking about it hurts. “I hurt him.”

“Yes. You did.”

“But he would try to fix this for me, and I don’t need him to do that.”

“No, you don’t.” He smiles now and the knot in my stomach loosens. “I’m so proud of you, Savannah. You don’t look defeated like you did before. You look good and pissed off, and that’s just how it should be.”

“I am pissed,” I reply honestly. “That actually might be the biggest understatement ever. I’m so blinded by anger. He scared me, like he did before. Maybe worse this time because he showed me the pictures of the babies.”

“He’s playing mind games with you, Van.”

“I know. It took me several hours to let the terror subside and realize that he’s just trying to scare me and bend to his will. But I’m not his wife. And even if I were, no one has the right to treat me that way.”

“There’s my girl,” he says with a smile. “You’re an amazing woman, Savannah. Ben’s a lucky man.”