Free Rachel's Rebellion (Moss Bayou) by GiGi Duvall Page B

remote and jumped into the driver’s seat. Simultaneously
slamming the door with one hand and starting the engine with the other, he
noticed Wyatt scurrying into the passenger seat. He was texting something to
someone. Backing out of the parking spot, he made his way to the road, turning
toward Houma. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal, caught rubber, righted the
car’s attempt to fishtail and flew into the darkness.
    “Where we
headed?”
    “Rachel
needs me. Something’s happened.”
    “She okay?”
    “Don’t know.
Who did you text?”
    “Denny. Said
we got a lead on Tyler Devlin’s location.” Wyatt shrugged. “That should buy us
some time.”
    “You have no
idea,” Gabe muttered as he steered through a curve.
    “What’s up,
Gabe?”
    “Laurel
Cross is dead. Heroin overdose apparently.” Gabe made a turn onto a state
highway. “Tyler Devlin is where we’re going.”
    “How are we
going to play this?”
    “Don’t know.
Hadn’t thought about anything but getting to Rachel.”
    “That’s why
I’m here. You haven’t been thinking like a cop working undercover.”
    It was true.
Gabe couldn’t argue.
    “You in love
with her?”
    “Wyatt,
let’s not go all Oprah on each other, okay?”
    “I’m not talking
as your partner,” Wyatt told him. “I’m talking as your friend.”
    “As my
friend,” Gabe gave him a quick look, “let me handle it.”
    “As your
friend,” Wyatt admonished, “I need to know what’s going on so as your partner,
I can cover your ass.”
    “Wyatt…”
    “Don’t. This
is not only a problem for this operation if you’re not careful, but Gabe, this
could be a problem for your career. Let me help.”
    Raindrops
began to sprinkle the windshield. Instead of answering Wyatt, he watched the
road. Another couple of miles and the rain began to fall harder, forcing him to
ease off the accelerator a bit as he turned on the wipers.
    “Gabe, I’m
on your side,” Wyatt finally spoke. “I think it’s great if you have something
going with her. I know your life. I know where you’re from. I know you’re
alone.”
    Gabe
continued steering them into the darkness. His life. What a joke. His life had
always been shit.
    “I’m
serious, Gabe. If you’re in love with her, tell me. I’ll do what I can.”
    He gave
Wyatt a quick look and then returned his eyes to the road. “What if I said I
think I’m in love with her?”
    “I’d say no
shit, Sherlock.”
    “Why
couldn’t I have met her after this damned assignment was over?”
    “Wouldn’t
have worked out. Shreveport is a little far from Moss Bayou.”
    “So is my
shit life.” Gabe came to a red light and stopped.
    “That life
is gone, Gabe. You’re not that kid who was abandoned by his mother. It doesn’t
matter anymore that your father died in prison.”
    “Well, let’s
just open the closet door so all of the skeletons can escape.”
    “No
skeletons, Gabe. Just a rough childhood.” The light changed. Finally.
    “Not all of
us were fed with silver baby spoons.”
    “Money
doesn’t mean easy. It doesn’t mean good.” Wyatt shrugged. “My old man doesn’t
talk to me. The Hawke family black sheep, remember?”
    Wyatt’s
father was a hard case. He agreed with that, but he had trouble with any
further comparison of their childhoods. His grandfather hadn’t been much of a
parent, too drunk to care about a boy left to fend for himself. He thought
about Estelle as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. She had been the
closest thing to a parent he’d had. He missed her.
    “Let’s do
this,” Wyatt said as the car came to a stop. “I don’t think I see any more
patrol cars.”
    “Let’s hope
not,” Gabe mumbled.
    Turning toward
the hotel, Gabe could see a lone figure leaning against the wall. It was
Rachel. The rain poured heavily, drenching him as he jogged toward her. Her
head turned in his direction and she ran toward him as a bolt of lightning lit
the sky.
    “Beauty, let’s
get out of