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“It wasn’t your fault,” she replied. “I was the stupid person who stepped out on my porch in the dark.” She released a small sigh. “Even though I got that note of warning, for some reason I just never dreamed the killer would actually come after me.”

Lord knows, he’d tried to warn her that they were in too deep. “I’d still like to know how he caught on to what we were doing.” He frowned.

“I swear I didn’t tell anyone,” she replied quickly.

“I believe you. And neither did I.”

“Then it’s a mystery how he figured it out.”

“I don’t like mysteries,” he replied darkly.

“Trust me, neither do I.”

They fell silent once again. He could tell she was hurting badly. She leaned back against the sofa cushion, and her eyes were dull and without their usual shine. Her arms were wrapped around her middle.

“Why don’t you take a pill and go on to bed?” he suggested, hating to see her in such pain.

She frowned. “I hate taking the pain pills. I don’t want to get addicted.”

“Monique, you aren’t going to get addicted, and right now you need them.” He got out of his chair. “I’ll go get you a glass of water so you can take one.” A moment later he handed her the water and watched as she took one of the pills. “Now, go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Slowly, she stood. “Thank you, Jacque, for taking such good care of me today. I really appreciate everything you’re doing.” With that, she disappeared into his guest bedroom and closed the door behind her.

He sat and relaxed back in his chair. Without her in the room, some of the tension that had been inside him all day slowly began to release. He wasn’t accustomed to sharing his space with another person. He’d forgotten how pleasant it could be to have real conversations. She was very easy to talk to, and that made it easier on him.

With the day nearly over, he took his shoulder holster off and set it on the table next to him. Most nights at this time, he would grab his pole and do a little fishing.

Even though the water where he fished was relatively close to the back door of his shanty, he didn’t think it was a good idea for him to go out and leave her in here alone, especially since apparently a killer wanted her dead.

He got up and turned off a few of the lanterns in the room, leaving only two on next to him. Then once again, he picked up the book he’d been reading. He didn’t know how long he’d been lost in the story when he heard it…a loud rustling around his back door.

A rush of adrenaline suddenly exploded in his veins as he put his book down and instead picked up his gun. The rustling sounded like either a big animal or a human.

It wasn’t uncommon to run into a sounder of wild boar in the swamp. The bulky, massively built pigs rooted on the ground and destroyed much of the vegetation. However, it was definitely unusual for them to come so close to a shanty.

That was also the case with the coyotes and bobcats in the area. Generally, they preferred to avoid humans at all costs. Still, something or someone was out there.

He rose from the chair, his gun gripped tightly in his hand. He walked to the back door and quietly unlocked it. He threw it open and then took a step outside.

The shadowy figure of a man was there. A killer come to call? “Who’s out here?” Jacque barked.

“Don’t shoot… Jacque, it’s me.” George Trahan stepped into the faint light that came from Jacque’s kitchen.

“Dammit, George, what the hell are you doing skulking around my back door?” Jacque slowly lowered his gun to point at the ground.

“I heard Monique was staying here with you and that she’d been beaten up pretty bad. I just wanted to see how she’s doing.”

“So, why not knock on my front door like a normal person?” Jacque asked with obvious irritation.

“I didn’t want to bother her if she was really hurt, so I thought I’d just peek in the windows to see if she looked like she might be up for some company.”

“That’s a good way to get yourself shot,” Jacque replied.

“I’m sorry, man. It was a bad decision on my part,” George replied. “So, is she up for some company?”

“Actually, she’s already gone to bed. If you want to see her, then I suggest you try tomorrow earlier in the day. And the next time you show up here, come to the front door,” Jacque added.

“Will do,” George replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jacque, and again, I’m really very sorry.”