Read Online Broken by Janet Taylor-Perry - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janet Taylor-Perry
Ads: Link
want it. It'll be a real long time for me."
Patrick ducked so as not to catch the garter. It landed squarely in Raif’s hand.
Two weeks later, Raif visited Chris's grave and put fresh flowers in the vase attached to the crypt. He talked to her. "Oh, baby, what do I do? I'm so tired, Chris. Some days I don't even want to get out of bed. Baby, I told Ray this has been the year from Hell.
"I lost you." He rubbed his face with his hands.
"Before I could turn around the firm was under investigation, and we were sued. I had to have several employees arrested for embezzling funds. Walter's doctor told him he had to cut some stress before he had a heart attack, so he retired. Patrick Swift and Steve Journey were murdered. Patrick, our son, went to Tulane and almost got expelled because his professor accused him of plagiarism. Larkin got him out of that. Maybe she has spread her guardian-angel wings my way a little. Lindsay broke her leg and pelvis in a car accident. And now…" He gusted a groan.
"Now, Trista is pregnant. I'm worn out. I'm not worried about being a grandfather, but she's my baby and too young to be having a baby. You would have handled that so much better than I did. I almost hit Townes Johnson—Yeah, he's the father. I am so broken and lost without you. Tell me what to do." He dropped his face into his hands and wept.
A long, quiet moment passed.
Something whispered to Raif's spirit. "Follow your feet. See where they will take you."
He looked around, expecting to see Chris standing there.
Raif left the cemetery, got in his car, and started driving.
9
Rambling Man
New Orleans, Louisiana
June 3, 2029
N eely Rivers had been closing every night at eight since she reopened for business. On this night she was running late because she had a last-minute customer, a college student. Ordinarily, she would have locked the door behind the exiting customer, but having dropped several items, she was picking things up before she could clean and sterilize the equipment. When the bell jingled, she almost jumped out of her skin. Holding a tattoo tube with needle inserted in her hand ready to stab anything or anyone who threatened her, she came around the screen that separated the tattoo chair and table from the rest of the shop. The man who had entered was studying the paintings on display.
"Raif?" Neely said in disbelief, her voice barely audible. She dropped her hand to her side.
Raiford Gautier turned around. "You actually remember me?"
"You're hard to forget."
He felt a burn in his face, but a smile flickered across his lips. "I'm flattered. Did you paint these?" He nodded around the room.
"Yes."
"They're magnificent." He reached up to touch a seascape. "Why are you doing tattoos and hiding your real talent? These should be in a gallery and for sale."
"Thank you, but, you know, I do have to eat." She waved her hand toward the tattoo chair. "This pays the bills. And they are for sale. Notice the sticker."
"I suppose you're right." He creased his brow. "But you're not charging enough."
She shook her head. "Maybe too much. None of them have sold." Neely laid her equipment in its case. "Raif, are you all right? Patrick told me about your wife. I'm so sorry."
"Thanks. I'm living—well, existing."
"What brings you here? Did you like Patrick's Celtic cross so well that you came for another tattoo?"
"No, although it was quite nice." He spread his hands in the air and shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know why I'm here. I just got in the car, and this is where I ended up."
"Is your car outside?" She pointed.
"No, I parked at Harrah's and walked."
"Somebody who looks like you should not be walking down these side streets alone at night."
"What do I look like?"
"Like you have money to spare." She took in his tan slacks, a white oxford shirt, and brown loafers, all from an Armani collection. "You're a mugging waiting to happen."
He laughed. "I've already been beaten and broken in New
Patrick ducked so as not to catch the garter. It landed squarely in Raif’s hand.
Two weeks later, Raif visited Chris's grave and put fresh flowers in the vase attached to the crypt. He talked to her. "Oh, baby, what do I do? I'm so tired, Chris. Some days I don't even want to get out of bed. Baby, I told Ray this has been the year from Hell.
"I lost you." He rubbed his face with his hands.
"Before I could turn around the firm was under investigation, and we were sued. I had to have several employees arrested for embezzling funds. Walter's doctor told him he had to cut some stress before he had a heart attack, so he retired. Patrick Swift and Steve Journey were murdered. Patrick, our son, went to Tulane and almost got expelled because his professor accused him of plagiarism. Larkin got him out of that. Maybe she has spread her guardian-angel wings my way a little. Lindsay broke her leg and pelvis in a car accident. And now…" He gusted a groan.
"Now, Trista is pregnant. I'm worn out. I'm not worried about being a grandfather, but she's my baby and too young to be having a baby. You would have handled that so much better than I did. I almost hit Townes Johnson—Yeah, he's the father. I am so broken and lost without you. Tell me what to do." He dropped his face into his hands and wept.
A long, quiet moment passed.
Something whispered to Raif's spirit. "Follow your feet. See where they will take you."
He looked around, expecting to see Chris standing there.
Raif left the cemetery, got in his car, and started driving.
9
Rambling Man
New Orleans, Louisiana
June 3, 2029
N eely Rivers had been closing every night at eight since she reopened for business. On this night she was running late because she had a last-minute customer, a college student. Ordinarily, she would have locked the door behind the exiting customer, but having dropped several items, she was picking things up before she could clean and sterilize the equipment. When the bell jingled, she almost jumped out of her skin. Holding a tattoo tube with needle inserted in her hand ready to stab anything or anyone who threatened her, she came around the screen that separated the tattoo chair and table from the rest of the shop. The man who had entered was studying the paintings on display.
"Raif?" Neely said in disbelief, her voice barely audible. She dropped her hand to her side.
Raiford Gautier turned around. "You actually remember me?"
"You're hard to forget."
He felt a burn in his face, but a smile flickered across his lips. "I'm flattered. Did you paint these?" He nodded around the room.
"Yes."
"They're magnificent." He reached up to touch a seascape. "Why are you doing tattoos and hiding your real talent? These should be in a gallery and for sale."
"Thank you, but, you know, I do have to eat." She waved her hand toward the tattoo chair. "This pays the bills. And they are for sale. Notice the sticker."
"I suppose you're right." He creased his brow. "But you're not charging enough."
She shook her head. "Maybe too much. None of them have sold." Neely laid her equipment in its case. "Raif, are you all right? Patrick told me about your wife. I'm so sorry."
"Thanks. I'm living—well, existing."
"What brings you here? Did you like Patrick's Celtic cross so well that you came for another tattoo?"
"No, although it was quite nice." He spread his hands in the air and shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know why I'm here. I just got in the car, and this is where I ended up."
"Is your car outside?" She pointed.
"No, I parked at Harrah's and walked."
"Somebody who looks like you should not be walking down these side streets alone at night."
"What do I look like?"
"Like you have money to spare." She took in his tan slacks, a white oxford shirt, and brown loafers, all from an Armani collection. "You're a mugging waiting to happen."
He laughed. "I've already been beaten and broken in New
Similar Books
