Read No Limits for Free Online Page A

concern. I hope you’ll do the same.”
    She spun away before he could answer. From the stool where he sat, legs spread wide, elbows propped on the bar, King Trahan shrugged, his smile, his charm the only sign of southern hospitality she’d seen since walking into the bar.
    She tilted her head in thanks and turned toward the door—then was nearly mowed down by one of the two burly locals shoving past her as they headed for the corner and the judge.
    Once outside, she bounded down the porch steps and ran for her car. Enough with fighting her way through the swamp of good and evil. The faster she could get back to New York, the faster she could hire a P.I. and get him on the case.

Seven
    S imon remembered this drive. The road was in better shape now than when he’d made it last, but the trees still grew the same distance from the blacktop, rooted in the same marshy swamp that made pulling over to fix a flat the same iffy proposition it had been back then.
    He’d done it enough times to know, hadn’t gotten stuck more than a few, had ended up splattered with mud after pushing from the rear while King floored the accelerator to free them. He’d done the same to King a few times, leaving his cousin wearing a good chunk of the swamp. Most of the time they’d been just drunk enough to laugh it off. For years they’d been inseparable, the best of friends, the worst of enemies, more like brothers than cousins—not surprising since each had been given a room in both the Baptiste and Trahan households, and they’d grown up together, roaming the fields of Le Hasard.
    The land King still lived on.
    The land Simon now owned.
    He swerved to avoid the carcass of a possum that had run out of luck crossing the road. Having no idea how long he’d be in Bayou Allain, he’d made the drive from New York in his own truck, one outfitted with equipment he might not need but would never find in a rental.
    The trip had given him plenty of time to think—not only about where he was headed and why, but about all of the reasons he hadn’t been back to Louisiana since the day he’d shipped out for basic, the same day King had boarded a bus for Angola and four years in the pen.
    He’d also spent a lot of hours wondering what their lives might have been like if he had returned to Louisiana after his discharge, if he had worked over the well their fathers had drilled, planted crops or an orchard, ran cattle on those four thousand acres. If he and his cousin had ironed out their differences and found common ground for a new start. If they had settled the feud that neither of them admitted to starting. Their fathers had made a living off the land, two roughnecks who’d married sisters and become brothers by law. They’d started their families at the same time, intending to establish a dynasty to rival that of the Landrys.
    The gold coin Simon’s father had found on the property had been the good-luck charm he swore would make it happen. Simon and King had gone along with the fun and grown as close as two boys could be. A large part of that was due to all the secrets they shared. King had been the one to shoot out the windows in the junior high gym when he got benched for missing track too many days in a row.
    Simon told no one else but King what he’d done to Judy Gaines in the corner of the stage during seventh grade rehearsals for A Christmas Carol.
    King had nailed Patsy Thibodeaux before she liked it so much she gave it away to the whole high school football team at Christmas. Talk about a mascot. And Simon, well, Simon had egged Principal Scott’s car for no reason but King betting him a week’s worth of chores that he didn’t have the balls.
    It wasn’t until the fire at graduation that the tension between them began. They’d been on their own by then, their parents gone, their closeness strained. The last time he’d seen King had been in the courthouse for sentencing. Simon had chosen to enlist rather than serve time, but King