Two days later

“We continue our coverage as the body count of known cartel members rises in New Orleans. The statement we’ve received from the police doesn’t give us much to go on, except for the warning they want to share with our viewers.

“Stay inside. Venture out only as necessary.

“Collateral damage has been minimal up to this point, and authorities want it to stay that way. Here at the network, we’re not sure what to make of this, but somehow, even though the streets are running with blood, residents of certain neighborhoods claim that they feel a new sense of safety rather than fear.”

* * *

The streets are running with blood, and I feel no guilt over it. It’s a simple matter of cause and effect. Actions and consequences. Restoring the balance.

Before all of this happened, I would have been one more scared citizen wondering what was happening to my city, but now I see it all from a different—and in my opinion, clearer—perspective.

Lachlan Mount isn’t terrorizing this city. He’s making it safer.

He hasn’t contacted me. For days, V has stood guard outside my door during the day, and has slept inside the living area, probably with one eye open, while I’m in the bedroom at night.

I’m in the safest place I could possibly be, under the watchful eye of a devoted protector.

Now I just need Lachlan to come home.

In the meantime, I try to distract myself with work.

My phone rings at the prescribed time.

Temperance.

“Hey. Everyone still good?”

“Yes. I have everyone non-essential working from home like you requested. The restaurant is still closed, and the security detail patrolling the building makes the rest of us feel like we’ve got the National Guard protecting us. I don’t know where you found the money for that, but . . . I’m really glad you did.”

I rub a hand over my face, debating once more whether I should tell her the truth, but decide that the less she knows, the better. At least, for now. “If you think, for a single second, that you or anyone else at the distillery is in danger, we shut down operations completely and everyone evacuates according to the plan.”

“Boss, we’re not shutting down. We’re not pussies here at Seven Sinners. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a few bullets flying outside to stop us from making whiskey. Besides, we keep getting more requests for orders and I’m holding them off, because there’s no way we can possibly fill them all.”

My brain, which has been filled with constant worry about Lachlan’s safety to the point where I’ve almost worn a path in the carpet of the bedroom, finally latches onto business fully once more. “Supply and demand. We have to raise prices.”

Temperance is silent for a few beats. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You would’ve. Things have been a little hectic,” I say, and we both laugh at the understatement of the year.

We discuss how to handle the price increase, and then Temperance moves on to the next topic.

“I just got a call from the PR director of the Voodoo Kings, and he’s concerned that Mardi Gras will be too dangerous this year because of the increased violence. They’re already discussing the possibility of canceling the event, even though we’re still months away. I told him that he was being unreasonable. I think I convinced him that there’s no need for such a hasty reaction, but you might need to step in and make sure.”

“They can’t cancel.”

“That’s what I told him, but if they do . . .”

My mind races, and I think of the contract. “Hold on. Let me pull up the termination clause. Didn’t we put something in there about forfeiting the deposit if they cancel within a certain number of days of the event?”

I remember the lawyer mentioning something, but I was barely paying attention because I was more worried about getting the damned thing signed than the details.

“Yes! Yes, we did!” Temperance says, excitement in her voice.

I pull up my own copy and read through the fine print, then check the calendar.

“They’re within the window. They would lose the entire fifty-percent deposit if they cancel now.” Relief—sweet, sweet relief—bubbles up in my belly. “There’s no way they’re going to want to pay for half a party they’re not getting, will they?”

“No, ma’am. Do you want me to call and remind them, or do you?”

I think of my other options, continuing to pace the room. “I’ll call them. Make it friendly. Pose it as I would hate for you to lose that deposit just because of a little scare that can’t last much longer.”

“Do you have some kind of secret insight into how long this craziness is going to last?” Temperance asks.

“Of course not,” I say, which isn’t completely a lie. “But I can sure tell the team that they’d be making a poor business decision based on irrational fears, and would be much better off not losing their deposit right now.”

“I’ll let you handle that one, boss. I think it’ll be better coming from you.”

“Fair enough. What’s next?”

“Jeff Doon wants to know if we’ve made any progress on prepping to start tours. But, obviously, he isn’t pushing to start them right away.”

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. We’re not ready yet. Anything else?”

“I think that’s it for now, except . . .” Her question trails off.

“What?”

“Are you still somewhere safe? I can’t help but worry about you.”

I look around the luxurious suite, inside what’s probably the most well-guarded compound in the city. “I’m safe. I promise.”

“And there’s nothing else you want to tell me?”

“Not right now. I’ll be back soon, though. Like I said, if you think there’s any question of danger, you have my authority to tell Louis to shut down operations immediately and evacuate the building. The security guys will take you home and make sure nothing happens to anyone.”

“We’re not going anywhere. Louis would no sooner leave those stills than leave a newborn in the street.”

How I earned such devotion and loyalty from my employees, I’ll never really understand, but I’m thankful for it all the same.

“You’re both getting hazard pay for this. Keep me posted if anything changes.”

“Will do. Same to you.”

When we hang up, I make the call to Mr. Joseph, the Voodoo Kings’ PR director, reminding him of the termination clause they agreed to. After some sputtering and protests, and my assuring him that everything will be fine, he agrees not to cancel the event.

That’s a victory for the day.

As soon as I get off that call, I start pacing again.

I can’t help it.

I won’t be able to stop until I see Lachlan again for myself, and with each hour that passes, I worry more and more.