He shut his phone off because the last thing he needed was to have to read his cousin’s self-satisfied reply.

Was Sylvie holding Lady and cursing his name? He had to make sure the dog got her medications. He would work something out. Despite what his mother had said, he did have his own money. It wasn’t the Darois fortune, but he would be comfortable.

Financially. Emotionally it would take a long time to recover. If he ever did. He would go to Dallas. New Orleans was far too close.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking he might be able to catch her scent.

Instead he heard the sound of the hardwoods creak and realized he wasn’t alone.

Adrenaline flooded his system and he opened his eyes in time to see a man coming at him with a baseball bat.

His awful day wasn’t done.

chapter twelve

Rene felt his eyes widen as he realized who was on the other side of that bat. He’d been ready to fight, but he couldn’t punch this particular attacker. “Dre! It’s me.”

His best friend in the world stopped and managed not to take his head off. Andre Martine wasn’t wearing a shirt, his lean body covered only in a white towel wound around his waist. He frowned, one brow cocking and his surprise obvious. “Rene? Rene, what the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

The bat dropped and Andre breathed an obvious sigh of relief as he moved in, giving Rene a wholly masculine, pound-on-the-back hug.

“Sylvie keeps a key in the front flower bed in case of emergencies.” She’d explained that her next-door neighbor was elderly and sometimes needed to borrow things. But Rene had a far better question. “What are you doing here? I heard you were somewhere in Asia. No one’s heard from you in six damn weeks, brother. Your mother is worried.”

When Marcelle had come over for supper two nights before, she’d been beside herself because Andre hadn’t called in six weeks. She’d been almost ready to fly to Asia herself. He’d gotten to participate in calling Andre’s ancestors to watch over him.

It had been a fun night. Soon Marcelle would likely be cursing him.

Dre pulled back, a half smile on his face. “Yes, and that’s why I’m here instead of there. It’s also why I didn’t call. I swear my momma can tell when something’s gone wrong just from the sound of my voice.”

He looked past his own misery. Dre was close to his whole family. What was he trying to hide? “Gone wrong?”

Dre winced and turned. There was a bandage across his left shoulder blade. “Yeah, I might have gotten shot. Is the bandage on okay? It’s hard to deal with myself.”

It looked secure. “It’s fine. How on earth did you end up getting shot?”