“Who do you think?” She cops an attitude, which seems to be her natural state, propping her hand on her hip.
I tap into all the acting skills I don’t actually have and dig into my grief, which is still simmering just below the surface. “Kane said ... Kane said that if they killed Rafe, there would be no reason for them to come after me. I don’t understand.” My voice breaks at the end.
Magnolia’s gaze sharpens. “Who the fuck is Kane?”
Shit!Not only am I a terrible actress, but now I’ve given away part of Kane’s true identity.Great, Temperance. Just great.
Part of me expects him to burst through the door from my bedroom any moment, but it doesn’t happen. It’s up to me to get myself out of this mess and find out what Magnolia knows.
“That’s what he told me to call him,” I whisper.
“The motherfucker who killed Rafe?” Her voice shifts to a hiss.
I don’t answer because I realize I’ve fucked up royally. But Magnolia doesn’t need me to speak because she’s got plenty to say.
“I hope the devil welcomed him with open arms, because otherwise I’d kill him myself.”
“Who do you think is going to kill me? Why do I need protection?” I ask, trying to redirect the conversation.
Magnolia doesn’t ask permission, just moves toward my sofa and takes a seat. “Sit,” she orders. I swear, the woman is bossier than Keira.
I follow her direction, but only because she’s the keeper of information I need.
“I need to know. I can’t protect myself if I don’t know.”
She presses two fingers into each temple and exhales. Only then can I see the weariness in her expression. Magnolia might be the most beautiful woman in New Orleans, but there’s a hard edge to her that has sharpened over the last month, as if honed by grief.
“Mags, please. I didn’t ask to be involved in any of this.”
Her gaze cuts to mine. “I don’t want to explain this to you. You don’t need to know the things I know. You don’t need to carry the burden.”
“But if I’m in danger—”
“That’s the only reason I’m telling you this. Figured I’d take it to my grave. Here’s hoping confession is good for the soul.”
I wait in silence because it sounds like she needs a moment to gather her thoughts before she begins.
“It’s my fault. All of it.” Magnolia’s face creases with pain. “I never should’ve gotten him involved. I shouldn’t have passed the information about the job on to Rafe. Or, at least, I should’ve asked more questions so he knew what he was dealing with.”
“Wait,yougot him the job with the ...” I pitch my voice lower like I’m about to say something awful, which I suppose I am. “Human traffickers?”
A flash of pain lights up Magnolia’s expression. “People come to me when they need things, or when they need things done. I use my connections and make things happen. They didn’t tell me what the job was, just asked if I knew someone who could take it.”
Knowing what little I do about her backstory, I can’t imagine Magnolia would ever do such a thing. She’d been on the streets since she was a teenager, and selling other women ... that’s justwrong.
“But—”
She waves a hand to silence me. “I know what you’re going to say. But Magnolia Maison sells women all the time, so what makes this different?”
I nod.
“Because all my girls make achoice.They know what they’re doing. I give them alternatives before they take their first john. If they can’t stomach doing it, I help them find something else they can do to earn money that doesn’t involve spreading their legs.”
“How do you have any working girls at all then?” That’s a mystery to me. I thought they were all women acting out of desperation.
“You’re a smart girl. What would you do if you could make a grand a night, easy, doing one job, or spend all day working to make a hundred? Maybe two hundred if you’re lucky? My girls get paid top dollar. You do the math. If you need money and don’t have many other options, it doesn’t take a genius to see the upside of the proposition.” She pauses. “You see where I’m going with this? Plus, I’m under Mount’s protection, which means my girls are too. People know he won’t stand for girls getting smacked around. It’s a fucking death warrant.”
I see the picture she’s painting, and it’s different from the one I expected. But that’s not the point of this whole conversation.