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Epilogue
Mason
It had been three months since the day I killed the don who’d been intent on using Griffinsford for his own personal criminal homebase, and the asshole who had been stalking the woman I loved all the space of a few minutes. Of course, I couldn’t take full credit for ending Chester. That had been a team effort, but the hole I left with my rifle was bigger, so to my mind that meant he was deader because of me.
Without having to worry about Don Diavonte trying to marry her off and Chester trying his best to breed her, my Rilia had really come out of her shell these last few months. She was bright, engaging, and her happiness radiated out to all she touched, including me. For the first time in forever, I had something to smile about.
I had the engagement ring I’d ordered months ago safely resting in my pocket, waiting for the right moment to pop the question. That moment would be very soon because I’d brought her to my family home, the one I inherited from my grandmother. My grandmother’s best friend and longtime companion, Miss Adeline, still lived there and would continue to do so until she passed. She was eager to meet the woman I was going to marry, and I was just as eager to show Rilia where I grew up. I’d never want to move back to Louisiana, but visiting occasionally filled a need I would be hard pressed to name.
I watched her walking down the dock with a picnic basket in her hand. Aprilia was a beautiful woman, especially wearing cut-off jean shorts and a skimpy tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Her strappy sandals weren’t the best for boating, but I didn’t have the heart to ask her to change them. Instead, I held out my hand to help her into the boat.
She eyed the large fan at the back. “What kind of boat is this? My grandfather had a small speed boat, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”
I helped her get comfortable as I explained. “It’s an airboat. It has a flat bottom and an aircraft-type propeller that generates movement. Some folks call them swamp boats, plane boats, or bayou boats. I use the last term. Bayou boats are better than regular boats for navigating the swamp because they don’t have propellors to get tangled in the grass.”
“It’s nice. I can’t wait to get out on the water with it.”
“We’re going to go into the part of the swamp I always hit out in as a kid. It has a lot of trees and vines to keep the sun off us. The peace and quiet there is the only thing I truly miss about home.”
“How old were you when your parents first allowed you to go out on the swamp alone?”
“I wanted to at twelve. They put me off until I was thirteen and had spent a lot of time on the water. For me, it was better than getting my first car.”
We chatted about my childhood, and if she had similar memories, she shared them with me. It was relaxing. For the first time in my life, sharing memories of my childhood wasn’t something that made me relive the bad times. Maybe because we were talking about how much I liked being on the water.
When the boat slid into my favorite spot, I turned off the propellor and we drifted along in the slow-moving currents. I sat across from her, and she handed me a cold drink to sip on.
“So, what do you think of my favorite spot?”
She took a few minutes to look around before answering. “I love the way the branches reach out over the water, creating a cozy feel, especially with the moss growing over them. And the way those thick vines climb over the landscape almost like a pretty green blanket.”
I snorted a laugh. “That’s all kudzu vines. It’s considered an invasive plant. Some states have nuisance laws against cultivating it. Down South, we lost that battle ages ago.”
“Well, I like it,” she insisted with a grin. Something large moved in the water and she jumped. “What about the water? Are there fish in there?”
“This area is teeming with life. The gators have always been plentiful. Regardless of what you’ve heard, they don’t usually attack people. They have a natural fear of humans and will avoid us, but every so often someone will get on the wrong side of one.”
Her eyes went wide. “Are you serious? Are we safe here?”
“It’s all about respect, you don’t bother the gators and they won’t bother you. We share the swamp.”
Aprilia relaxed and asked, “What about other animals? Am I going to like the ones that live around the swamp?”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “Probably not. There are still a few wild boars trotting around, but mostly the swamp draws snakes, snapping turtles, racoons, river rats, toads, and lots and lots of birds. Occasionally, you’ll find an otter has taken up residence, but they’re few and far between.”
“Wow! It seems so peaceful here, to think there’s all these critters hiding out of sight.”
I laughed, with the ever-present bird song and cicadas you couldn’t call the swamp peaceful in the strictest sense of the word—though it was peaceful in a way, devoid of signs of human habitation. “On land you’ll find squirrels, bobcats, opossums, armadillos, and black bears. So, there’s that to look forward to.”
She gave me a doubtful look. “I think you’re pulling my leg.”
I shrugged. “How do you think I turned out to be so tough? I grew up fighting off copperheads, diamondback rattlesnakes, and even coyotes. It makes a man hard.”
Her face lit up. “Wait a minute. Is this all just some segue into talking about you getting hard?”
I threw back my head and laughed. “No. I’m always hard around you, though. No need to talk that fact to death.” I leaned forward and pulled the ring box out of my pocket. “I have more important things to talk to you about today.” I held the small red velvet box out for her to examine.
One trembling hand came out to lift the box from my hand. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked nervously.
