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I’ll take Claude and the bikers any day.
Navigating the labyrinthine streets of New Orleans, we navigate our hogs with purpose, the pulse of the city's underground resonating beneath our wheels. The oppressive presence of the crime family hovers like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over our every step. My father's legacy intertwines with my very being, a constant reminder of the web from which we can never fully break free. Despite our attempts to carve our own paths, the tendrils of this world have a way of ensnaring us when we least expect it.
"Sometimes, I wonder if this is all worth it," I confess, shouting to be heard over the bikes’ engines.
"Etienne, you know as well as I do that there's no easy way out," Bastien responds, his voice laden with a weariness that mirrors my own. "We made our choices long ago."
I nod, acknowledging the bitter truth that lingers in his words. These choices have marked us, leaving indelible scars that run deeper than mere surface wounds.
Before we reach Claude's lair, we pause at Lisette's bakery,How Sweet It Is—a haven amidst the storms that rage around us. The aroma of freshly made beignets envelops us, offering a brief respite from the acrid scent of blood and betrayal that clings to our lives. The warmth and coziness of the bakery embrace us, even as the outside world threatens to consume us.
"Two beignets, s'il vous plaît," I request, my gaze lingering on Lisette as she deftly tends to her bustling bakery. There is a strength in her movements, a certain grace that belies her resilience—a fire that burns brightly within her.
I come here a lot.
"Make that three," Bastien adds, his voice carrying a lightness that defies the heavy burden we bear.
As Lisette prepares our order, a rude customer barges in, his entitlement tangible in his demanding demeanor. He unleashes his fury upon Lisette, berating her with a venomous stream of words. He shoves the box of eclairs—which have melted in the heat—beneath Lisette’s nose as though she is responsible for the heat of the sun. Anger simmers within me, threatening to boil over, but Lisette stands tall, her defiance unyielding.
"Sir, if you don't like it, you can leave," she retorts, her chin lifted defiantly as she meets his gaze head-on.
"Fine!" the customer spits, finally storming out of the bakery, his anger leaving behind a charged atmosphere.
"Merde, men like that make me sick," I mutter under my breath, my disdain palpable. My admiration for Lisette deepens, her unwavering strength amplifying the warmth that radiates within me when she is near.
"Here are your beignets," she says, her voice holding a touch of pride as she passes us the paper bag filled with sugary goodness. "Enjoy."
"Merci, Lisette," I respond, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, a mixture of gratitude and something more—a dangerous spark that flickers in the presence of her fire.
"Etienne, Bastien," Lisette sighs, a weariness shadowing her beautiful face as she brushes strands of hair out of her eyes. "You wouldn't believe the trouble I've been having with the dark ones lately, the family. They're like cockroaches that never go away."
"Hey," Bastien protests, his eyebrows raised in mock offense, his mischievous grin attempting to lighten the mood. "We're not all bad, you know. Some of us, maybe, but never me."
Lisette rolls her eyes, though her smile belies her exasperation. "Of course not you, cheri," she retorts, her tone playful. "But the others... they just won't leave me alone. Always asking for protection money or trying to muscle in on my business. It's exhausting."
As Bastien launches into a spirited and humor-filled defense of our less savory colleagues, I find myself captivated by Lisette's presence. Her words are passionate, spoken with conviction, and her gaze holds a fierce determination. The very fire that had drawn me to her earlier now burns brightly, directed at expressing her frustrations. I am entranced, unable to tear my gaze away.
"Listen, Lisette," I interject, my voice soft yet infused with confidence, drawing her attention back to me. "Why don't you let me take you out one night? We can forget about difficult customers and overbearing wise guys, just for a little while."
Her eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and amusement dancing within their depths. "Etienne LeBoeuf," she chides, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "are you flirting with me?" The question hangs in the air, a moment pregnant with possibility. Before I can respond, however, a timer interrupts our connection, and Lisette turns away, bustling into the back room to tend to the delights baking in the oven.
Watching her disappear, a sense of anticipation lingers. The few seconds we shared were charged with an unspoken energy, a mutual recognition of the inevitable bond forming between us.
"Smooth, real smooth," Bastien teases, nudging me gently in the ribs. "You really think she's going to want to go out with one of the very people causing her problems?"
"Maybe," I shrug, unable to suppress the wry grin that spreads across my face. "But there's only one way to find out."
Bastien shakes his head, a mix of amusement and concern in his expression as he takes a bite of his beignet. "Etienne, you're gonna get us both in trouble," he mutters playfully, the glimmer of lightheartedness filling the air.
A delicate dance of powdered sugar flutters through the air, graceful as the first snowfall, settling upon the worn wooden counter. Its sweet residue lingers on my tongue as I savor each bite of the beignet, relishing the blend of fluffy dough and sugary splendor. Yet, as the flakes catch the light, my eyes are drawn to the silhouette of Lisette disappearing into the back room.
Bastien's voice, a soft thunderclap, breaks through my reverie, bringing me back to the present. "Etienne," he warns, his tone laced with concern. "You do remember she's Claude's niece, right? You're playing with fire."
A sly grin forms at the corners of my mouth, a glint of mischief in my eyes. "Since when did you become such a worrywart?" I retort playfully, my words laced with a hint of teasing rebellion. Another bite of the beignet disappears into my mouth, its lightness melting away in a burst of flavor. Though my focus remains on the pastry, my mind drifts back to thoughts of Lisette.
Bastien's voice softens, a mixture of frustration and genuine care evident in his words. "Since you started flirting with the one girl we're supposed to stay away from," he cautions, his concern for our safety palpable. "You know how Claude feels about family."
I pause, my playfulness giving way to a flicker of contemplation. The weight of the truth settles upon me – crossing Claude Badeaux, our formidable boss, comes at a steep cost. Yet, the allure of Lisette's flame burns bright, irresistible and dangerous all at once.
