I don’t trust him. Of course, I don’t. But if I can figure out what he wants, I might still have leverage.
He studies me, and for a brief moment, I wonder if he’ll actually tell me. But then, his smirk fades and is replaced with something harder, colder.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says, his voice low, almost a warning.
“For now,” he says, “you stay where you are.”
FIVE
Ridge
The LaLaurie Mansion:One of New Orleans’most infamous haunted sites. Once home to socialite Delphine LaLaurie in the early 1800s, it became a house of horrors when a fire in 1834 revealed enslaved individuals trapped in the attic, subjected to unspeakable cruelty.
I standby the door and watch Coco hold her ground, arms crossed, chin lifted. She’s sizing me up, tracking the room, already testing limits I haven’t set.
Her gaze flicks to the window, then the door, then back to me. She’s calculating, looking for something she can use.
There won’t be, but I don’t stop her from trying. Gives her something to do.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I glance down at the name and swear under my breath. It’s Rocco Delane, one of our long-time port partners.
“Talk to me, Rocco,” I say, stepping a few feet away from the bed as I take the call.
His voice crackles through the line apprehensively. “Ridge. I heard about your father. I’m sorry for your loss, but we’ve got a problem.”
“No,” I say flatly. “What you’ve got is bad timing.”
A moment of silence before he continues more carefully. “People are nervous, and clearances are slowing down. Everyone’s waiting to see what happens next.”
There it is.
“Nothing happens next,” I say. “Things run exactly the way they did yesterday. Same terms. Same expectations.”
“That’s easy to say,” Rocco replies. “Harder to sell when everyone’s watching to see if Stone Intermodal is able to keep going like it always has without Robert.”
My jaw tightens. “Then you tell them I do.”
Silence stretches. He doesn’t argue, which tells me everything.
“Let’s meet in person,” I continue. “Let’s put this to rest.”
“Tonight?”
“Now,” I say. “Now,” I say. “I can meet you at the dock office in forty-five minutes.”
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
I end the call without another word and slip the phone back into my pocket.
When I turn, Coco’s watching me, sharp-eyed and silent, already cataloging what just mattered enough to pull me away.
I pause just long enough to meet her gaze.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I say. “You’re staying here.”
Her eyes narrow, defiance flashing brightly, but she keeps her mouth shut. She probably thinks she can use this to her advantage, but little does she know she won’t be alone.
“I’m not leaving you in here with nothing,” I add.
