“But what about the men Franco said were holding you hostage?”
I didn’t want to admit that Q and Franco had arrived at the perfect time. In a way, they’d saved Elder from one death only to deliver him to another. If only they hadn’t shot him, I would’ve got on my knees and thanked them a million times over for arriving and shooting the Chinmoku.
When I didn’t reply, Suzette slouched. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Her apology threw ice water on the sizzling-flames around my heart.
Her fingers squeezed mine still lodged in her hair. “Truly. I know you have no reason to believe me. But he’s never made a mistake before. To be fair…what you’re saying has never happened, so…how was he supposed to know?”
I wanted to stay furious, but I couldn’t ignore the truth vibrating in her tone.
Unlocking my fingers from around her bun, I dropped my hand. Blood rushed to my fingertips, desperate to erase the feel of holding her against her will.
She turned to face me slowly as if I’d bound away or attack her. “I think you should talk to Tess.”
“Tess?” I looked past her to the living room. Mirror images of double doors led to two different rooms. One side of the foyer held a library—dark and brooding with leather and parchment. The other held the welcoming embrace of a comfortable lounge. A dog’s chew toy sat on a pretty purple rug. A discarded cardigan draped over the back of the white leather couch. The smells of something sweet like muffins or cakes billowed from the distant kitchen.
What is this place?
It looked like a family lived here, not some rapist or psychopath.
But how could that be?
The front door opened, bringing a gust of chilly air.
Instantly, I grabbed my hostage again, pulling her as a shield in front of me, my arm locking over her chest. “You!” I hissed as the bulkier man of the two from the worst night of my life appeared.
Suzette’s so-called husband.
His gaze darted to the woman I held then locked onto me, his arm switching from frozen to whip-fast, unholstering the gun at his waist. “Let her go.” Raising the weapon, he aimed at my face. “Right fucking now.”
I ignored the urge to duck, fighting every instinct to stay quiet, to turn mute. That handy tool wouldn’t save me here. I had a voice. I had every intention of screaming until I was listened to and released.
Staying tucked behind Suzette, I seethed, “Let me go and I’ll let her go.”
The man inched closer, letting the front door swing closed behind him. He was handsome in a brutish French way. Dark hair and tight lips, he vibrated with loathing. “You’re not going anywhere unless you give me back my wife.”
Suzette shrugged apologetically, shooting me a look over her shoulder. “Told you he wouldn’t be pleased.” She made no move to leave me, though. She could easily twist out of my hold and leave me wide open for target practice.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she reached behind her and patted my hip with her dainty hand, reassuring me even as the furious man pointed a gun in our direction.
Sighing dramatically, she said in a French accented voice, “I’m fine, mon amour. You don’t need to worry.”
Franco licked his lips like a carnivore. “I don’t need to worry, Suzette? She has you in a chokehold.”
“Yes, and you snatched her from the man she loves. We’re all in the wrong.”
Franco rolled his eyes. “How many times have we heard that story? Leave them with their masters long enough and they all fall in love with the cunts.”
Suzette shook her head. “This one’s different.” She threw me a smile. “I believe her. Enough to listen, at least, instead of undermining her own heart. I suggest you do the same.”
I sucked in a breath as Suzette patted my forearm wrapped around her chest. “It’s okay. Let me go. I’m on your side.”
Trust had never come easy for me.
Trust was something I would forever struggle to gift.
This moment was no different.
I didn’t drop my arm, but I did loosen it slightly. “I’ll only let you go if your husband puts his gun on the side table over there.” I arched my chin at the cute table with a porcelain bowl for keys.
Franco snickered coldly. “While you have your hands on my wife, I’m not putting my gun anywhere.”
“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.” The door behind him mocked me. Freedom existed just beyond it. If I could somehow teleport and appear on the other side, all my problems would be over.
I could run.
Far, far away.
I could find the ocean and swim, swim, swim toward the Phantom…wherever it may be.
Dog claws scrabbled on tiles, followed by a bark.
I didn’t mean to look—I should’ve kept my full attention on Franco in case he made a move, but a fat sausage-shaped bullet charged from the lounge with the half-chewed toy from the rug in its mouth, barrelling into Suzette’s legs.