Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Fabien draws a knife and slides it into my palm. “If anyone touches you. Anyone tries to hurt you, you use this. It’s self-explanatory. You just fucking hurt them. Got it?”
My pulse races. I don’t even like to smoosh spiders. “Uh, yep. Got it. Have I mentioned I don’t like blood?”
“Motherfucker,” Thayer mutters under his breath.
“It’ll be fine,” Fabien says. “Don’t overthink it.” He leans in and whispers in my ear, “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem—”
“And smarter than you think?” I finish. “Did you just quote Winnie the Pooh?”
“Technically, Christopher Robin,” he says with a wink. “You think I only read one genre?”
This man never ceases to surprise me.
“Alright, lovebirds,” Thayer says dryly. “Let’s get ready.”
They form a human wall in front of me. Outside the window, armed guards appear as if they materialized out of thin air.
But all seems normal. It seems like an average afternoon in Corsica.
The door opens. “Leave the luggage,” Fabien says. “We’re short on time and will get it later.”
“Yessir,” the men say in a chorus, as if he’s the sergeant and they hear and obey. I suppose they do.
We move as one, almost in sync with one another. I look to the left and right to see if anything at all is out of place but see nothing. Just a regular old person pushing a cart with luggage, and a—
Wait a minute. Fabien just told the men to leave our luggage. Then why is one of them—
“Ten o’clock!” Thayer shouts and pushes me into Fabien. We hit the ground as Fabien pulls the trigger.
No waiting. No questioning. Just pulls the trigger without a second thought. The man with the luggage crumples to the ground. Oh my God. What if he—
Another shot rings out, then another. Thayer leaps to his feet, vaults over the man prone on the ground in a pool of his own blood, and races after someone else.
“Stay down,” Fabien growls, when I hear another gunshot.
Someone leaps at us from the side. Without thinking, I scream, my voice penetrating the air. I knife our attacker. The knife cuts through clothing and flesh like it’s a laser. Something warm and wet hits my hand. I go to strike again, when the deafening sound of a gunshot rings out right next to me.
Oh my God.
“Are you alright?” Fabien shouts.
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Stop yelling and move this gorilla weight off me.”
With a grunt, he pushes my attacker off of me. I take one look at my blood-covered hands and the dead man on the asphalt, fall to my knees, and vomit.
Fabien gathers my hair.
“It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “Jesus, it’s over.”
I don’t respond because I’m absolutely mortified and trying not to splatter his shoes. They’re expensive. God, the thoughts that come to my mind when I just knifed a man.
“Clear!” Thayer says. “Let’s move!”
Weak from vomiting, I stumble to my feet. Fabien lifts me straight up and cradles me against him.
The way he holds me, like I belong to him.
Like I’m special to him.
Like I’m his.
“Whatever you do, do not kiss me right now,” I say through pinched lips, which is a lot harder than it looks.
He growls something unintelligible in French.
“I have vomit breath. I will never live this down.”
He pulls me to him and plants a hard, warm kiss on my forehead.
“Get in the fucking car.” His command is redundant because he’s actually putting me in the car while he’s talking to me. I let him buckle me like I’m a child, because he looks like if he doesn’t get something he can control in the next ten seconds, his brain is going to explode or worse.
We get in the car, Thayer shuts the door, and we take off for La Maison.
“A small ambush,” Thayer relays.
“They had no time,” Fabien says.
“Agreed. All is safe at La Maison. They’re secured.”
Fabien nods. “Excellent. Did they get anything from the man they captured?”
Thayer grunts and looks away. “He killed himself before they could question him.”
I hold my hand to my mouth, afraid I’m going to vomit again. Fabien looks at me sharply. “We’ll talk about this later,” he says in a low voice to Thayer. “Nicolette, if you can’t do this...”
I swallow hard. “I can do this. I just need some water.”
“Water?”
“Water,” I repeat. “The very building block of life. Without water, life as we know it would cease to exist. Give me a little hydration, and I’ll be right as rain.”
Fabien purses his lips and rolls his eyes. “She’s fine,” he tells Thayer.
“Cosette,” I whisper. “Please can we check on her?”
He nods and takes out his phone. I expect him to make a call, but instead he texts. Waits. “They were able to post bail and she’s back home. We have a team of lawyers ready to defend her, and I’ve instructed Gwen to cancel all of our clients for the rest of the night.”