The Vigilante & The Dragon - Book 1 of the Guardians Saga [COMPLETED]

Bonus Chapter - Couches, Crawfish, and Cars

"You still don't have a couch," Rile said as they walked down Magazine Street.

"I don't care," Alex said. "I'll find another temp job and soon I'll have enough money. Not paying rent rocks."

"Show me your money," Rile said.

Alex dug her cash out of her jean pocket and shoved the wad into Rile's hand. "There. It's not enough for a decent couch."

"Watch and learn." Rile turned into another store.

Alex looked at the combination of thrift store merchandise and barely antique furniture. "He might have a chance. Might."

"Thank you for the recliner," Cale said. "You should have tried it first since you'll be using it, too."

"No. It's yours," Alex said. When he looked like he was going to protest, she said, "Payment for helping me. I don't stay in debt to anyone."

"You weren't in debt to me," Cale said. "You're on our side. We help each other."

"Alex shrugged and pointed to Rile examining the couches. He shunned the patterned ones and pushed on the cushions of the solid colored ones. Only one had wooden feet, although they weren't carved, but solid blocks. The salesperson approached him and the two discussed. Alex crossed her arms on her chest and watched.

"Let's see if he can pull it off," she said.

"Rile is very good at bargaining," Gabe said. "He might succeed. Thank you for the recliner."

"The one you were sitting in is for my apartment," Alex said. "I need at least one." She ignored his gaze on her and watched Rile.

The salesman shook his head and pointed at the couch. Rile said something and pointed at something else on the couch. They spoke more. Rile pushed on the cushions. The salesman ran his hand along the back of the couch. Rile sat on the couch and bounced with a frown on his face. When he stood up, the salesman sighed and held out his hand. Rile accepted it.

"He did it?" Alex asked.

"He completed his mission," Gabe said.

Alex tilted her head up at him and Gabe grinned.

Rile joined them after paying and filling out the paperwork. "I believe a crawfish lunch is in order."

"I believe you're right. I'll buy a few pounds and we'll take it back to my apartment. Cheaper that way."

*****

The brothers looked with interest at the old grocery store. The tile floor was ancient and yellowed, but not warped or cracked. The shopping carts were just as old, their wire frames battered with squeaking wheels as the New Orleanians pushed them down the narrow aisles. Little old ladies in flowered house dresses shopped side by side with tattooed men in sleeveless shirts. They politely ignored each other until a lady needed help. Then a man would reach up or down the shelf and hand her the needed item. She would thank him, he would answer, and they resumed ignoring each other.

"In the back," Alex said. "They boil the crawfish there."

They stood at the deli counter, straight from the 1950's, with curved glass and chrome. The glass was clean and the various meats had signs stuck in them proclaiming the price per pound.

"Eight pounds of boiled crawfish, please," Alex said to the man in the white apron.

"Dat enough, chere? Dey awful big men," the deli counter man said.