Page 89 of Diamonds in the Mud

“We can call it our first official date,” I added with a smile.

He chuckled in return. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“Diamonds may be precious,

but friendship is priceless.”

–Unknown

Jameson

The idea of Rayne confronting the two burly men who had ambushed me sent a shiver down my spine. I refused to be caught off guard by them again, and I’d sooner face hell and the devil himself than allow Rayne to step directly into harm’s way.

Tonight could end up being very bad for me. I knew there was a chance of word getting back that I’d been seen with Rayne. Hell, at this point, I was taking a huge gamble. The image of the kid staring back at me pissed me off enough that I was willing to chance everything.

While she drove us out of town and headed into Madison County towards the Gator Hole Bar, where my phone had last pinged, I kept trying to convince her to let me go into the bar alone first and look around. Of course, she was having none of it, and by the time she parked in the bar’s parking lot, we’d just finished our very first argument.

Seeing Rayne climb out of her Jeep and slam her door somehow oddly settled me. Just knowing there was that much fight in her calmed my nerves slightly.

Seeing the real anger in her eyes, I pulled her into my arms.

“Hey,” I said softly, kissing the top of her head. I felt her tense in my arms and then instantly soften. “Sorry,” I murmured. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you. I’m not sure I could survive it.”

She relaxed even more and sighed against my chest. “I’m stronger than I look. I do have two black belts.”

I remembered her telling me she’d spent most of her youth in karate and tae kwon do.

I nodded. “I have no doubt you can handle yourself. These guys, however, are really big and, well, if they bested me with one blow, I’m afraid what could happen if we both let our guard down.”

She pulled back and looked up at me. Her eyes searched my face. I ran my gaze over her beauty, knowing every feature, even in the dimly lit parking lot. “Then we don’t let our guard down.” She glanced around the empty lot.

“Right.” I brushed my lips quickly across hers, and then, stepping back, I took her hand in mine.

I followed Rayne through the parking lot, both of our senses on high alert as we approached the Gator Hole. The place, a ramshackle hut nestled against the shore of a bayou, looked like it had seen better days. String lights cast a dim glow over the outdoor seating area that surrounded the entire building.

Most of the walls had sliding glass doors on them that all sat open, allowing the warm summer breeze to blow through the entire building.

About two dozen patrons were lounging at picnic tables outside, sipping beers as they were enveloped in the humid Louisiana night.

“Definitely not what I expected,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the crowd for any sign of the two men who had jumped me.

“Yeah, now I know why it’s not on the travel guide for this area,” she murmured.

As we made our way towards the bar area, a feeling of unease settled over me. In all my years undercover I’d only been bested once before and it had been in a fight ten to one. I’d hobbled away from that fight with more than one broken bone.

The air thickened with the scent of sweat, stale beer, and swamp. There was a banjo playing somewhere and the noise grew louder as we made our way towards the bar. The sound filled the outdoor space, and the twangy melody that reverberated through my bones.

Rayne glanced at me, her eyes reflecting the flickering lights overhead. “You sure about this?” she asked, her voice low but determined.

I nodded, my jaw set with resolve. “Yeah, we’ve come this far,” I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My concern for her safety somehow had my fears doubling.

The busty redhead behind the bar eyed us with suspicion as we leaned against the old wood countertop. To be honest, I couldn’t blame her. We were outsiders in a place where locals obviously ruled. She seemed to regard us as if we were a puzzle as we approached.

“Can I help you two?” she asked, her voice laced with a thick Southern drawl I’d been faking for over a year.

“We’re looking for a couple of guys,” Rayne said, her tone steady. “Big, mean-looking fellas. They jumped my man last week and took off with his ride. You know anyone like that around here?”