Page 19 of Devil's Queen
Miss Blanche continues her tirade about the minister and misses out on the quiet footsteps approaching from behind her. It’s not until Birdie wraps her arms around her neck that she realizes she’s awake.
“Good morning, songbird,” Miss Blanche greets before kissing her blonde curls. Birdie crawls into her lap, nuzzling her face against Miss Blanche’s neck. “You hungry? I can make you some beignets with lots of powdered sugar while you get ready for preschool.” Birdie’s head pokes up, a smile creeping on her sleepy face.
“Beignets?” Birdie’s eyes twinkle with excitement as she looks up at her beloved surrogate grandmother. “Can I have one now?”
Miss Blanche chuckles and gently caresses Birdie’s cheek. “Well, I suppose we can make an exception today. But only because you’re the sweetest little thing in this world.”
Birdie squeals in delight, hopping off Miss Blanche’s lap and tugging at her hand. “Come on, Miss Blanche! Let’s go make them right now!”
They head to the pantry on the other side of the kitchen, leaving me sitting at the table in awe of their bond. Miss Blanche has been there for us from the very beginning, offering her unwavering support and love. It’s moments like these that make me realize how much we owe her.
Birdie disappears into the pantry and returns with a large bag of flour. White powder spills from it with each step she takes. Miss Blanche turns to me with a smirk on her face.
“You go on and get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when the beignets are ready.”
I nod gratefully, my heart swelling with gratitude for Miss Blanche’s kindness. As I make my way back to my room, I can’t help but think about the advice she gave me. Be honest with Rem, she said. Lay everything out on the table. It’s time to face the consequences of my actions.
Entering my room, I sit on the edge of the bed, staring into the distance as memories flood my mind—memories of love and loss, mistakes and regrets. It’s time to confront them all. Even if it means I am about to enter the lion’s den with Rem again.
REMY
The second Rex leaves,my body begins to tremble. The shock of the situation and the potential new information regarding my dad’s death rocks me to my core. My fingers are cold and clammy, my skin crawling with goose bumps. I hug my arms tightly around myself, trying to ward off the chills running down my spine. Waves of fear and anxiety wash over me.
I stumble up the stairs in a fog until I reach my office, needing to put as much distance between Rex and me as possible. It’s not until I hear his motorcycle roar to life and ride off that I can finally breathe again.
Why did he wait until now? What else does he know that I don’t?
Questions swarm my mind like vultures circling prey, their hungry eyes fixated on the secrets that lie hidden within the shadows of my father’s past. It can’t be true,can it? Why would the Parish medical examiner conclude it was a suicide if it were something else? Sure, the Zulu Kings had connections, but to pay off the ME seems outside of their scope of influence. No. It can’t be right. Yet, a nagging part of me has also wondered what if it’s not so simple? I try to piece together the fragments of information Rex shared, searching for any semblance of truth within this twisted tale.
I find myself pacing back and forth in the dimly lit room, trying to make sense of Rex’s sudden visit. The memories flood my mind, intermingling with the fresh torrent of questions that consume me. It’s as if the past and present have collided, creating a cyclone of emotions I struggle to navigate. I take a deep breath, attempting to calm the chaos inside me, but every inhale burns like fire in my lungs.
I’m unsure how long I pace, but I don’t stop until footsteps come up the stairs. My mother stops dead in her tracks when she sees me.
“What’s wrong?” She tosses her purse onto her desk, and with quick strides, Mama crosses the room toward me. She reaches out a hand to touch my arm, but I flinch away, unable to bear the weight of her touch in this moment. The words I just heard from Rex echo in my mind, threatening to shatter the fragile illusion of safety.
“Mama,” I begin, my voice trembling, “I need to know. Did you ever suspect anything strange about Dad’s death?”
She stares at me, her eyes filled with surprise and confusion. “What do you mean? He killed himself.”
“What if he didn’t?”
“No.” Mama shakes her head. “Your dad killed himself. End of story.”
“What if it isn’t the end of the story, Mama. What if Dad was in over his head? You told me once that in the days before Dad’s death he wasn’t himself.”
“Baby, I barely recognized your dad for years. Once he started taking drugs, he became a completely different person. Sure, the few days before he died he was a little more manic than normal, but that’s what drugs do, Remington. They eat away at your body until there’s nothing left to feed on.”
I think back to those moments. Days in a time I barely remember because I was so involved in my relationship with Rex that I hadn’t seen just how bad Dad had gotten until it was too late. I can still remember my mama’s screams when she walked into their room and found him. How I couldn’t bring myself to see him after that. My eyes were glued to the floor from that moment on until they buried him.
I shake my head, the emotions inside me bubbling over. “Rex showed up here this morning.”
Mama’s face pales, her hand going to her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. “Is that what’s gotten you all shaken up, baby?”
“No,” I force out the lie. “I mean, maybe. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he’s pretty adamant that Dad was in some kind of trouble.”
“Rene was a one-percenter, Remington. Trouble kind of comes with the territory, as it does for that man showing up here. For all you know, he showed up here to ruffle your feathers.”
I knew neither were saints. Frankly, neither am I, but I can’t shake that there’s something more to his confession.