Jack drained his glass of water. “Do you mind getting me another glass, man?” Ophelia and Etienne were blocking the fridge, so Etienne stepped forward to grab his glass from him. When the glass was placed in Etienne’s hand, Jack grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward, and stabbed him in the right shoulder with a knife.
Ophelia screamed, and Etienne lunged for Jack. The two men were wrestling on the floor while Ophelia stood in stunned silence. Jack ripped the knife out of Etienne’s shoulder, and his growl of pain sent her into action.
She ran to her room, found her phone under the sheets, and called 911. She placed the call on speakerphone, so she could use both hands to unlock the revolver under the bed while she relayed the necessary information. She loaded the gun. The operator was asking too many questions. She needed to go help. Ophelia yelled her address into the phone and told them to hurry and that the intruder had a knife. She hung up and threw her phone on the bed.
When she reentered the kitchen, the men were fighting sloppily. There was no sign of the knife, but Etienne’s shoulder was bleeding profusely. He was pale and looked on the verge of passing out. Jack stepped away to get some distance, and Ophelia knew he was trying to wear Etienne out in hopes of him passing out soon from blood loss. It would be Jack’s only chance at actually beating Etienne in a fight.
“Stop!” Ophelia yelled as she rounded the kitchen island. “This gun is loaded, and I will shoot.” Jacklaughed. He laughed like it was all a big joke to him. “Jack. I’m serious. The cops are on their way.”
“You’re lucky your big, bad boyfriend was here to protectyou; you would have been rotting with your precious Mawmaw in Hell. Although now this devil-worshipper is on my list too.” He nodded to Etienne, who was leaning on the couch, attempting to hold himself up. “He can join you as well.”
“You…Did you kill Mawmaw?” Her heart was pounding, and her world felt like it was tipping over. Ophelia needed to know. She needed to hear it from his mouth.
“Yes.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued pointing the gun at him. “Did you kill Delphine?”
“Delphine?” repeated Jack in confusion. “Oh, the old Voodoo bitch. No. That wasn’t me.”
Etienne slid to the ground and groaned.
“What?” asked Ophelia. “It was you. I know it was you who killed all the others.”
“Oh, Ophelia. How little you know.” Jack took a step back and turned like he was heading to the door.
“Leave, and I’ll fucking shoot. You’re staying here till the cops come.”
Jack froze. For a second, she thought he would listen, but then he leapt toward the door, and a deafening sound echoed around the room.
When her ears stopped ringing, her mind caught up to what she had done. Jack was on the ground, screaming, holding his hip where she had shot him.
“Move again, and I’ll shoot the other hip,” she yelled, although she was quite certain he didn’t hear her over his yelling.
Ophelia ran to Etienne. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. “Thank God,” she whispered. She hurriedly examined his body and noted the large knife wound in his right shoulder, skin lacerations on his arms from the fight over the knife, and swelling on his face from what Ophelia assumed were punches.
“E, it’s me. You’re going to be okay. I’m going to treat you.” Ophelia held his face, waiting for him to acknowledge her. “Etienne, I’m going to need you to tell me that you can hear me. Please, babe.” He grunted. “Good. Stay with me. I’m going totake the pain away.” She hated that she couldn’t take it all away for him, but she had to leave some evidence for the cops.
Ophelia shut out Jack’s pathetic screams and focused on the burgeoning love she had for this man. She placed her hands gently around the sides of his shoulder wound and pulled on her magic like she never had before. The intense need to heal him and make him whole coursed through her. Her magic didn’t flow through her body like normal, but instead rushed through her like an open fire hydrant. Her magic regrew the tissue and muscle the knife had sliced through, so she could close the wound and wipe away his pain. Leaving his skin lacerations and facial injuries were necessary to account for Etienne’s blood wiped around the floor. Her magic coursed through him like the most nutritious food and water and the most restful sleep. She evened out his nervous system and prayed that he could feel her love and gratitude.
As she finished, she dropped her hands in exhaustion.
“Ophelia,” said Etienne, staring up at her in wonder. He now boasted a healthy glow and bright eyes. “That was amazing. You treated like…like…I didn’t even know what you did was possible. Thank you, O.”
The cops rushed into the house, and more chaos erupted as the police assessed the situation. The scene was a gruesome one with blood smeared across her kitchen floors. Ophelia and Etienne explained to the cops how Jack had attacked them with a knife, which the cops later found under her couch, and confirmed that the knife was a dagger. An ambulance followed shortly and carried Jack off to a hospital. Another ambulance arrived to evaluate Etienne and Ophelia. Once they were cleared, Ophelia and Etienne went down to the station for statements and interviews.
They left the station after the sun rose, just as commuters were leaving for work. Ophelia’s life was a mess. She fielded police questions and calls from her family and friends all night. She didn’t even want to know what Aunt Susan thought ofeverything. She wondered if she would even believe what Jack was being accused of, what he so willingly admitted to her.
Ophelia couldn’t go back to her house yet. Not in its current state of disarray. So she went to Etienne’s home, where they held each other all day through bouts of sleep, conversations, and tears.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Two days after Jack’s arrest, Ophelia was home on the North Shore with her entire family. Even Evangeline flew in from Austin to be with her. Ophelia sat on the couch in her family’s living room, propped up by numerous pillows. Eva and Jo snuggled into either side of her while her parents prattled on about their disbelief in the entire situation.
Ophelia’s phone rang with an unknown 504 area code, so she answered.
“Hello.”
“Hi. This is Officer Jones with the New Orleans Police Department. Can I speak to Ms. Ophelia Oubre?” asked an authoritative female.
