72 - Saints Come Marching In

_I’m always here for you. No matter what. Don’t care how much distance. Call me, and I’ll come to you. Always. Forever. Just stay out of my kitchen. – Dutch_



Werewolf made reservations for a rental car as he made plans to fly down to New Orleans. Dutch was right, Camille was pissed and that could be dangerous. The rental agent came back on the phone and confirmed that they would have a Suburban ready for him. He insisted on the same SUV that he used for his company, Wolf Pack Security.



The pilot that officially worked for the Wolf Pack, and unofficially with a still unnamed government agency, gave Werewolf a flight plan and time, and he forwarded that to Dutch. An hour later, he arrived at the airport and found not only Dutch, but also Spider.



“It’s my job to make sure that everyone is following the rules,” Spider said as he settled back in a seat.  “I want Worm to know that I have her back.”



“Toad sending you?” Werewolf grinned.



“Yeah.” Spider grinned.



An amused Werewolf laid back in the seat and slept on the flight down to Louisiana.  When they had left the clubhouse earlier in the day, it had been just above freezing and the clouds in the sky threatened snow.



Now it was nearly seventy degrees, and the humidity seemed to cling to your skin. The drive from New Orleans took a little over an hour, not including the wrong turn in town while headed to the clubhouse.



The AC was blowing cold because the humidity and heat was very unfamiliar to the three men in the SUV. All three men had stripped off their leather cuts and jackets which were now tossed in the back of the SUV along with overnight bags.



And new encyclopedias that the guys back home had rushed out to buy as a way for them to beg for her forgiveness.



The computerized GPS voice told them to turn, and he followed the road around a curve. The tall chain link fence came into view through the tall trees. Werewolf pulled up to the gate and rolled down the window of the rental car.



The heat and humidity invaded, and all three men groaned in discomfort.



“How the hell do people live down here?” Spider asked from the backseat. “Do they have fucking gills?”



“Just those of us born and bred on the bayou,” the prospect at the gate smirked. “You should come back in July, maybe August, when we really get hot.”



He wore jeans and a gray T-shirt declaring the New Orleans Saints 2010 Super Bowl championship win over the Indianapolis Colts under a prospect cut that was soft with wear. Dark blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail that brushed his collar and a few strands had slipped out and clung to his deeply tanned neck.



“Hell. No,” Dutch declared from the passenger seat. “My sister told me about how when it’s hot the swamp puppies hang out on the property.”



“Boudreaux,” the man said with a smile. “And you must be talking about Camille. She calls the eight-foot monster a swamp puppy.”



“Yeah,” Werewolf chuckled. “We need to see Camille.”



Leaning against the driver’s side door, he propped his arms on the window ledge. “Gator said that he was expecting a Saint, didn’t know there would be three of you.”



“We prefer not to be predictable,” Werewolf grinned.



The other two men scoffed. Whereas most people had a routine, Werewolf thrived on keeping his routine unpredictable. He never left the house or office at the same time. Never took the same route. And if they were to guess, he already had a second and possibly third route plotted out to get back to the airport when they flew out tomorrow.



“Cam just got here a few minutes ago, looked pissed as hell.”



Dutch swore under his breath and Werewolf agreed in the language that he had picked up from the nearly twenty years of being with Charlotte.



“The brothers are all gathering at the gun range. If you go over that way,” he pointed to the far side of the parking lot, “park on the side of the house, next to the big shed, and follow the gravel around to the back. Stay out of the way of the bullets and you’ll be fine.”



Werewolf nodded his thanks and pulled through the gate and aimed the SUV for the area that the man indicated. Parking where the prospect had indicated, they climbed out of the SUV and Spider opened the lift gate and grabbed the cuts.



Feeling more like themselves, the Saints headed around the house as a pistol was fired in quick succession. The distinct sound of clips being changed and then more shots were fired.



“Cher?” Gator called.



“Just got off the phone with my mom.” Camille declared loudly, and the three Saints stopped where they were. “It seems you’re not the only one reporting my activities to my dad and Toad.”



“I’m waiting right here until I know those guns are empty,” Spider declared as he leaned up against a tree.



“Agreed,” Werewolf smirked.



Dutch leaned against the post at the end of the porch, just out of view. “I’m related to that crazy bitch.”



“…will be the next fucking sonofabitch that reports a goddamned thing about what’s going on with my pussy.”



“No offense, little girl,” one of the Cajuns snickered, “might be a little more intimidating if you hit the target.”



“I hit exactly where I was aiming.”



The Saints all flinched as they carefully shielded their dicks.



“Your sister scares me,” Werewolf muttered as more women filed out onto the porch.



“That one? Or the one you married?”



“Yes.” Werewolf answered and Dutch chuckled.



“What the fuck did you boys do?” one of the women asked.



“Don’t act innocent.” Camille warned. “I know everyone who called or texted any of the fucking Saints.”



“Are you going to shoot us too?” another asked.



“I’m not that nice.” Camille spit out before disappearing inside.



“You really want to know what she would do?” one of the women in scrubs asked.



“She got her hunting rifles down here?” Spider asked, and the two brothers-in-law swore as they moved back around the side of the building.



The women laid out exactly what Camille would do and how she knew all the secrets that everyone thought they kept. Werewolf knew that she could find out more because she had hacked his computer system and helped Trevor to bolster their virtual security.



“And yes, she can get your parents' phone number.” The other woman in scrubs said and the other girls near her laughed. “Or your boss. Or kids. Or whoever.”



The club girls left the porch, and Gator gave a motion for the old ladies to leave too.



“Hey, dad.” A brother said to Gator. “She shot the balls off the target. With a hell of a grouping.”



“This one too.” Santa laughed. Other than Darkness, Santa was the only one that Werewolf and Dutch could pick out.



“I advise no one reporting to Toad or Trigg unless it’s something important. Like life-threatening or some shit like that.”



“Oh, you think?” Spider growled and the other two chuckled.



They watched as the men turned to look at the second-floor balcony of the house. The crotch of the target exploded, causing the young brother to drop the knife and dive for cover. The last target exploded, but Santa did not dive for cover.



“This year for Christmas, I want nerves like Santa,” Werewolf said.



“Camille!” Gator yelled. “Your point has been made.”



The area was silent, and then they heard her unchamber the round. Werewolf’s eyes widened as he recognized the sound of the bolt on a 50-caliber rifle just before the remaining target was obliterated.



“Now,” Camille declared, “my point has been made.”



“Her point has been made,” Werewolf grinned.



“Is it safe?” Spider asked.



“As safe as it ever is when one of Oma Uittenbroek’s girls is mad,” Dutch said with a shrug.



“You’re not filling me with the warm fuzzies,” Spider grumbled as he and Werewolf followed Dutch around the corner and towards the gun range.



“My mother’s Oma, literally, fought the Nazis.” Dutch said over his shoulder. “Nothing about the women in my family should ever give you the warm fuzzies.”



“Charlotte gives me warm fuzzies,” Werewolf grinned.



“Yeah? You still sleep with one eye open?”



“Fuck yeah I do.” Werewolf chuckled as they stopped next to the Cajuns. “I ain’t stupid enough to piss off an Uittenbroek woman. Your mother was teaching my daughter how to hold a gun before she started kindergarten.”



“How long have you fuckers been here?” Gator asked.



“Long enough to know that you now understand why Dom was outside your hotel room in Vegas.” Spider grinned. “It wasn’t to keep you in, it was to keep the Worm out.”