Strange Fates

Chapter One: Welcome to New Orleans

New Orleans. You'd fallen in love with the city the first time you'd visited when you were twelve years old. Over the years you and your grandfather had made the trip many times. It seemed as if he knew every bit of history that lived in that city. He had you looking at it with new eyes every time you visited.

This time, however, you were making New Orleans your home. Your ailing grandfather had passed away about six months ago. He'd left you everything in an ironclad will. The rest of your family was furious. But they hadn't been the ones taking care of him as the cancer ate away at him. They barely even came to visit, let alone do anything actually useful. You had acted as his primary caregiver until the very end.

You'd never fit in with the rest of your family. You were your father's daughter. The byproduct of an affair had in the year before he married the woman you spent your childhood believing was your mother. Your father died when you were twelve and she had wasted no time informing you that you weren't her problem. And your sister had been quick to help push you out the door.

Your grandfather had been there to pick up the pieces and made sure you knew that there was at least one member of your family that loved you unconditionally. Your sister Emily was his granddaughter as well, but he barely tolerated her. He always said she was too much like her mother. And you guess she'd proved that when he got sick. They certainly showed up when it was time to read the will though. Assholes.

You sighed and gripped the steering wheel a little harder. Reaching over, you turned up your music and let yourself get lost in the rhythm. This move was about making a new start and you didn't need to worry about them anymore. Your grandfather had made sure of that. You'd sold his house, packed up his stuff and transferred all the funds. You would never have to step foot in that stupid little town again if you didn't want to.

It wasn't long before you were pulling up in front of the house you'd purchased. It needed some work, but you were already in love with it. And you'd never been afraid of a little hard work. Four men got out of a car down the street when you pulled up. You recognized one of them as the mover you'd hired a few weeks ago to help unload the truck. It was good to be home.

***

You spent the majority of the day directing the movers in the placement of furniture and boxes. When that was finished, you made a trip to the hardware store and picked up some of the supplies you needed. There was no point in unpacking a room just to have to move everything to do the work. By the time you'd done all that and made sure your bed was set up, you were exhausted. You'd grabbed some dinner while you were out, but now you wanted nothing more than an ice cold beer. Surely, you'd earned one by this point.

Remembering passing by a bar within walking distance earlier, you decided that would work just as well as anywhere else. You changed your shirt and fixed your hair before grabbing your keys and walking the few blocks to Rousseau's. The bar was relatively quiet when you arrived, but it was the middle of the week. You took a seat at the bar and a happy blonde came over to take your order. "What can I get for you?"

"Give me a beer, something dark and in a bottle."

"You got it." She popped the top off and sat the beer in front of you.

You took a long swallow and closed your eyes as the cool liquid ran down your throat. Yeah, you needed that. "Thanks." You slipped her a twenty. "For another one of these in a bit. The rest is yours."

She grinned. "Thanks. I don't think I've seen you in here before. What brings you in?"

"You'll be seeing a lot more of me. I just moved in not far from here."

"Well, that's convenient."

You nodded. "Yeah. I always look for a bar within walking distance when I buy a home."