14 - Mardi Gras

*Let the good times, and alcohol, roll! – Swamp Thang*
The Baton Rouge Cajuns arrived at the New Orleans clubhouse three days before the fight. Taz and her entourage would arrive the following day. The Saints had rented a large, short-term rental for the week in an effort to avoid the hassle of so many rooms at the hotel.
When Gator mentioned staying at the clubhouse in New Orleans might cause issues with some of the New Orleans Cajuns wanting to go also. Camille had laughed at him and told him that there were also twenty tickets for that.
“Cher, is there anything you don’t think of?”
Camille had simply laughed at him. “This is my job. Priss keeps people happy with her bubbly personality. I do it by keeping people away from me.”
When they arrived at the clubhouse, the brothers and Camille had been given rooms to stay in. Gator, Zydeco and Darkness had all made it very clear that they were to behave around Camille. She rolled her eyes at their overprotectiveness and wondered what her mother would say at all their cockblocking.
Or, in her case, cunt blocking.
Firing off a text to Sid, she anticipated her mother’s response. *No cashing of cards in NOLA for me. These assholes are still protecting my virtue*
Within less than a minute she had a frowny face from her mom. Shortly after came another reply. *If you really wanted, you’d find a way around them. Much like you found ways to watch Trevor get his blow jobs*
*Hard to miss when it’s happening right by my reading alcove*
*Not that you tried hard*
Camille’s phone was then flooded with pictures and videos of men getting blow jobs. From other men.
*Don’t yuck my yum, mother*
*Never! Just trying to get you laid*
Grinning, she tucked her phone away as Darkness approached her near the front door of the clubhouse. Those that were closest to Camille knew that she had a strange obsession with watching a man giving another man a blow job. Or at least those back home did. Here, the Cajuns were sure she was a fragile porcelain doll that needed protecting.
“Ready?” Darkness asked and she nodded as the group headed out the door to the bikes.
As the night went on, their original group of eight dwindled as the others found hookups or simply headed back to the clubhouse. Around midnight the last of the brothers headed back to the clubhouse with the intention of finding a willing bunny.
New Orleans during the last weekend of Mardi Gras was perfect for those with insomnia. There were events and parties at all hours. Long after the other Cajuns had passed out, Darkness and Camille were still wide awake.
Currently the two were walking down Bourbon Street. Darkness held her hand and she held the lead for Tink. Tonight, he wore a black working dog vest with reflective patches. He also had several bead necklaces and a glow stick around his neck. His vest had warnings on both sides declaring that he was a working dog and not to pet.
Darkness wore his standard fare of dark jeans, black t-shirt, boots and cut. Earlier he had a drunk woman put several necklaces on him. Camille and Gator made him leave them on.
Camille wore her boots, skinny jeans, LSU tank top and a leather jacket. She had several patches on it from various rides and events. She even had a name plate that read WORM. Her neck was covered with at least two dozen bead necklaces. The patch that got the most attention was the one on the front that declared that she was PROTECTED BY DOM.
“Is that some type of property patch?” Peanut asked.
“Nope,” Camille laughed, “think of it as a warning. When you meet Dom, you’ll understand.” She had looked at Darkness before adding, “I’m not the property of anyone.”
As it approached two in the morning, Darkness guided them through the crowds to an openair seating area. He got a small table for them and flagged down a waitress. She took the order he placed without looking at the menu before disappearing into the building.
“I guess you’ve been here before?”
“Actually, no.” he replied honestly. “But I am dying for some étouffée.”
“I never had it until I moved here.” She admitted as the waitress sat their drinks and appetizers on the table.
Darkness reached out and twirled a strand of her hair around his fingers. “I’ll make some for you sometime.”
“You cook?”
“I do. You?”
Camille started laughing. “No. Not allowed to anymore. I caught the stove on fire boiling eggs.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her and rested his chin on his palm and propped his elbow on the table. “Do tell.”
“I thought it was one of those glass pots. Mom loves them, says she loves watching the food cook.” Shaking her head, she gave a little laugh. “She’s weird with her cooking. I don’t get it.”
Giving a small laugh, she shook her head slightly.
“It was bakeware. Not to be used on a gas stovetop. And it shattered, the water put out the fire under the pan, but it traveled down to the knob and started burning there. Allison says throw flour on it, we were out of flour. Did you know that creamer is flammable?”
“Oh, God.” He was barely containing his laughter. “Who threw creamer on it?”
She pointed to herself. “Long story short, mom got a new kitchen, and I am not allowed to cook anymore. There was also an incident on the grill and one year when we went camping. But that was the only time that I caught the kitchen on fire.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifth? Sixth grade?” she shrugged her shoulders. “It was just before my insomnia really got bad.”
“You’ve had it most of your life?”
“Yeah. There’s no treatment for kids. Have her do more exercise, she’ll get tired and sleep. Chamomile tea. Add a little whiskey.” She rolled her eyes. “I can run a mile in under five minutes. Bench two hundred. Leg press nearly three. And swim a medley like nobody’s business. And I can’t stand whiskey.”
He offered her a bite. “But you still can’t sleep.”
Camille shook her head no as she chewed the crab cake.
“I heard about the fairies.”
“The ones I was chasing at home? Or the ones here?”
“There were fairies here?”
She started giggling. “When I came to tour the campus in spring, we also came to the clubhouse, Gator and Zydeco had done the room up in fairies. Giant stickers on the walls. Figurines. Bedding. Even had some hanging from the ceiling.”
Darkness roared with laughter. “I’m just picturing the brothers doing that. Big bad ass bikers playing with fairies.”
They were both laughing when the waitress brought out the shrimp étouffée. It seemed almost too intimate with Darkness feeding Camille. But they were on their own and enjoying the night. They continued to talk through the meal, enjoying the company of each other.
After he paid the tab, they continued their personal nighttime walking tour of the city. Around three, or possibly four, they returned to their bikes and then the host clubhouse.
The room that she was supposed to be staying in had a couple asleep on the bed. With the clothes that were scattered around the room, they assumed the couple was naked. Darkness told her to use his room and he would go hang out on the couch. Except, his room was also occupied. They both went and watched a movie.
At some point, Camille snuggled up to a sleeping Darkness and lay her head on his chest. The soothing sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. A rare event that happened more often for them both when they were together.