“She’s at Hazel’s.”
“Fuck!” I slam my hand down on the steering wheel. “Call the police. I’m on my way there.”
It’s a good ten-minute drive from my uncle’s house to Hazel’s, but I make it there in five. The lights are off, so I pull around to the back and spot the white BMW in the fairly empty parking lot. Slamming on the brakes, I throw the truck in Park and hop out, taking the stairs two at a time to Hazel’s apartment.
“Hazel!” I shout, banging on the door. “Are you in there?”
I press my ear to the door, but there’s no sound coming from inside. Then suddenly a loud shriek rings out from downstairs.
Sirens sound in the distance as I descend the stairs, rush to the back door of the café, and yank on the handle. The door flies open, and I stop dead in my tracks.
Hazel is straddling Christine, holding a knife to her throat.
“Hazel,” I say softly, taking a step inside.
She lifts her face to meet mine briefly. Her eyes are wild as blood drips from her nose and the corner of her mouth. “She was going to kill me, Levi,” she says in a shaky breath, her tone laced with disbelief as she presses the knife closer to Christine’s neck. “She thought she could come into my place and terrorize me—again. Not this time.” She grits her teeth. “Maybe I should kill her so I don’t have to spend another five years looking over my shoulder.”
“You ruined my family,” Christine growls.
“Hazel, put the knife down,” I command firmly, taking a careful step closer. “The police are going to be here any second.”
“Did your boyfriend tell you about us?” Christine taunts, and my stomach bottoms out.
Hazel’s head jerks up, eyes wide. “What is she talking about, Levi?”
“I’ll explain everything, I promise. Just put the knife down. It’s over. She can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Yeah, until her daddy comes along to clean up her mess,” Hazel spits out.
“He’s your dad, too,” Christine adds.
“He’s not my dad,” Hazel snarls, “and you’re not my sister.” She shoves off Christine and tosses the knife to the side just as the door flies open behind me and two officers storm inside.
I quickly fill them in. Once they have Christine in handcuffs and out of sight, Hazel throws herself against my chest and bursts into tears.
“It’s okay.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “My sweet little Hazel is a fucking badass.”
Her snort is muffled against my shirt. She leans back to look up at me. Her face is bruised and swollen. “Do you think it’s over?”
I press another kiss to her nose. “For her? Yes. For me and you? We’re just getting started.”
Epilogue
Six months later…
Hazel
* * *
As I predicted, my biological father showed up to once again clean up Christine’s mess. This time I told him to keep his money and to get his daughter some help.
Christine was charged with stalking, breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted murder. Her lawyers claimed she was too mentally unstable to stand trial. Unfortunately, I had to agree. She is currently serving time in a mental facility somewhere in Texas.
About a month ago, I received a letter from her. She apologized for all the hurt she’d caused me. I didn’t write her back, but I accept her apology, and I forgive her. Because at the end of the day, she’s still my sister, and I’m convinced that not all those times we shared back in college were fake. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever allow her to be a part of my life again.
Levi also admitted that he’d slept with her. Although he didn’t know who she was, and it happened before we began our relationship, it still happened, and I kind of hate her for it.
“You didn’t tell me Clara was a witch,” Levi says, snapping me from my thoughts as he eyes the palm reader sign beside the door of The Mystikal Tea Room.
I snort a laugh. “She’s not a witch.” I pause. “It’s just… sometimes she can see things we can’t.”
“Like a witch,” he deadpans.
Shaking my head, I pull back the screen door and turn the knob. The bell rings as I push open the door and step inside. “Clara, I’m here,” I call out. “And I brought my fiancé.”
Clara walks out from the back and smiles, holding out her arms. “Cher, it’s so good to see you.” She pulls me into a hug, then turns to Levi. “It’s good to see you again, too, young man.”
I frown. “Again?”
Levi shoves his hands in his front pockets and clears his throat. “I actually know Clara.”
I raise my brows. “How?”
“I was in the Marines for eight years. I was stationed here in New Orleans for two. I met Clara one night when I stumbled in here by accident looking for a cup of coffee. I was drunk and pissed off because my girl had left me for someone else.”
“Levi and I had a good talk that night,” Clara adds, patting him on the arm. “We’ve kept in touch over the years.”
I narrow my eyes at Clara. “So when you said you sent me to him, you meant it literally?”
Clara nods. “Yes. You needed a good man in your life. Someone you could trust. Someone who would protect you. Levi is a good man, and I knew he would take care of you.”
“Wait.” I turn my attention to Levi. “So you already knew about me? About what happened?”
He shakes his head, but Clara cuts in. “No, cher. That was your story to tell.”
“When you said Clara owned ‘The Mystikal Tea Room’, I knew exactly who you were talking about,” Levi says.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask.
He shrugs, giving me a sheepish grin. “I wanted to speak to Clara first. I had to know if our paths crossed by coincidence or if she had something to do with it.”
“I told him that I sent you to Heritage Bay because I knew you’d be safe there. I left the rest up to fate. But I knew eventually you two would find your way to each other,” Clara admits.
I narrow my eyes on her. “What about Love Spell? You said only ‘the one’ would be able to smell it.”
She winces. “Okay. That was a small fib.” She holds up her thumb and index finger. “It’s scented oil. I’m not a witch.”
Levi snorts. “That’s questionable. What the hell did you put in that oil?”
“A little vanilla and lavender.” She grins.
I feel duped.
Levi turns and wraps his arms around me. “Babe, I don’t need any of Clara’s funky oils to know how I feel about you. You had me under your love spell the moment I walked into your café.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Clara says as she walks over to the counter. A moment later, she returns with a small cellophane bag with a light blue satin bow tied around the middle and two small glass bottles inside.
“What’s this?” I hold up the bag.
“For the nausea,” Clara explains.
I open my mouth to remind her that Jay already had the twins, but Clara cuts me off. “It’s not for your friend, cher. It’s for you.”