[Bayou Gavotte 00.0] Back to Bite You by Barbara Monajem Page A

to be alone with her misery was so depressing that she headed for the club instead.
    Halfway there, her cell phone rang. It was the friend who’d been keeping an eye on Sergio.
    “He knows where you are,” the friend said. “Not only that, he knows you’re with some guy called Gerry Kingsley.”
    Mirabel’s breath caught. Her heart began to thud. “How could he possibly know that? We met only yesterday.”
    “That I don’t know,” her friend said. “You might want to tell Gerry to make himself scarce.”
    Mirabel hung up. She couldn’t let anything happen to Gerry, no matter how much he’d hurt her. She would call and warn him, and . . .
    Oh, no! She didn’t know his cell number. But Janie Jo did. Mirabel took off running for the club.
    She staggered in a few minutes later, out of breath and drenched in sweat from the humid heat. “Janie Jo,” she gasped. “Do you have Gerry’s cell number?”
    “Sure,” said Janie Jo, cracking her gum. “It’s in the office. Hey, what’s wrong?”
    “I’ll tell you later. Get his number, and hurry!” She followed Janie Jo into the office.
    “It’s five-zero-four,” Janie began.
    “Just dial it,” Mirabel said, shivering with impatience.
    But Gerry didn’t answer. “Try again,” Mirabel said, “and meanwhile I’ll put his number in my phone.” Maybe he was still at the lawyer’s office. She had to go look for him. She had to find him before it was too late.
    “No answer,” Janie Jo said. “Should I leave a message?”
    “Give me the phone.” Even if Gerry got the message in time, would he pay attention? He’d already brushed off her concerns about Sergio. The beep sounded. “Gerry, please listen. Sergio’s in town, and―”
    A crash and clatter stopped her in midsentence.
    “What was that?” said Janie Jo. “Some kids must have knocked over the trash cans again.” She stormed away.
    “And he’s out to get you,” Mirabel said into the phone as she followed. “Please, please go somewhere safe and stay there until I find him.” She hung up. She would go home first, in case Sergio knew her address and was lurking there.
    Janie Jo opened the back door. Grunts and heaves sounded from the yard. “Oh, my God, Gerry!” she cried.
    Mirabel hurried out behind her. Gerry and Sergio circled each other in the tiny paved yard. “Sergio,” she hollered, “if you touch him, I swear I’ll kill you!”
    Needless to say, Sergio ignored her. So did Gerry. A cell phone rang—she recognized Sergio’s ring—but he ignored it, keeping his eyes on Gerry.
    “Should I call the cops?” Janie Jo said.
    “Yes!” Mirabel gave her the phone. “Quickly!”
    “No,” Gerry grunted. “I can handle this.”
    Sergio rushed him, and they grappled, shoving and heaving, trying to trip one another. They seemed evenly matched strengthwise, but Mirabel knew better. Sergio was dirty—a street fighter.
    They were apart now, circling again. Oh, crap! Sergio had his switchblade out.
    “Stop fighting, you idiots!” she shrieked. “I’m calling the cops.” She grabbed the phone from Janie Jo just as Sergio lunged.
    Suddenly he was in the air, tossed over Gerry’s shoulder. He landed on the paving stones with a crunch. His knife went flying, and Gerry caught it.
    Wow.
    “Fuck,” Sergio wheezed.
    “Thank God.” Mirabel flung her arms around Gerry—and then let go. She backed away. She didn’t want him dead, but he was still a traitor.
    For a long moment, no one said anything. Sergio lay on the ground, struggling to get his wind back. Calmly, Gerry shut the knife. He was a little out of breath, but that was all. Janie Jo righted the trash can with trembling hands. Mirabel was still shivering with reaction when the cell phone rang again.
    Sergio reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Still flat on his back, he grimaced at the display and heaved himself to his feet. He didn’t answer the phone. “It’s that crazy Aunt April of yours, Kingsley. I told her