“That’s a lot of favors you’ve had to call in,” she notes.
“Yeah, and believe me, that’s never a good thing.” They’ll come back to haunt me, and when I least suspect it. Favors added up are like ghosts hiding in the shadows, waiting to haunt me.
Have I asked her for a favor? My whole life, I’ve wondered what was real, what was authentic. I’ve enjoyed trying on different disguises and playing parts. They were only games, things to keep myself interested with the decided benefit of becoming useful when I had a job to do like I do now.
I’ve paid her for the weekend. I’ve paid her to be mine. I tell myself that I’m only obsessed with her, that I can’t buy love. I’ve stolen and pretended for so long, I wonder what’s real. What’s authentic. What will stay when all else has faded? What matters?
We’re so close to the airport, we’re there in record time. I watch my men take our luggage. I hold Nicolette’s hand and we walk toward the tarmac.
“Can I ask you who was on the phone?”
Maybe the first step to authenticity’s not hiding anything anymore? Maybe the first step is… telling the truth? No matter what the consequences may be?
I’ve been preoccupied knowing I had to find Lyam, that I had to find who was responsible here.
“You know I have men stationed at La Maison.”
She nods. My men put our luggage away and Louis opens the door for us.
“There are rumors—”
The sudden bang of a gunshot interrupts us. On instinct, I push her to the ground as I draw my weapon, but my men are already on it. Footsteps pound on the tarmac, shouts erupt all around us. “Stay down,” I tell Nicolette.
I feel her trembling beneath me, but she lies still and silent.
“Are you hurt?” I whisper.
“A little scraped, I think, but otherwise okay. What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.”
“Fabien! Run!”
Run.
I yank her up and spin around to see a sleek gray car coming straight at us. I can tell from here it’s armored and loaded. Someone’s come to attack us.
I shoot at the wheels while I cover her with my body, but there’s nowhere to run. Rubber explodes when my bullet hits the target. “Go, go, get on the plane!” I shout to her, pushing her behind me as my men open fire.
It feels as if we’re swimming through honey. Everything’s slowed down to a crawl.
The door to the plane opens.
My men grab her and yank her inside.
I’m breathing a sigh of relief as my guards hit the windows and tires of the car when the sound of a second vehicle’s tires comes from behind the plane.
“Fabien! Let’s go!”
Thayer grabs me from behind and yanks me onto the plane. I stumble backward as the cabin door shuts just as Louis falls to the tarmac, crimson blood pooling around him. No.
“What the fuck was that?” I didn’t even know Thayer would be here. I turn around to see Nicolette behind him.
“I came as soon as I heard you were leaving,” he says, panting. “I’ll tell you everything, but first let’s make sure that we’re safe.”
I stumble forward as the plane begins accelerating. Nicolette jumps up from behind Thayer, who reaches for her, but she’s too fast. She peers out the window below me. “Get down!” I shout.
“Give me a gun!” she screams back.
Mon Dieu.
“You can’t shoot through the goddamn windows. I said get down!”
Thayer reaches her before I do and yanks her back to the floor.
“For crying out loud,” she mutters as we accelerate even faster and faster. The ground begins to fall away beneath us. “You men are all about the helpless female of the species, aren’t you?”
Thayer looks at me then back to her. “Oh, you have no idea,” he mutters. I don’t bother to reply. I’m taking in every detail I can outside the window. My men are barely recognizable from the height we’ve gained this quickly, but I can tell that Louis is being escorted to a medic. They’ve managed to stop the vehicle, and I hope they’ve caught someone they can question.
We’ll know everything soon enough.
Finally, we’re completely airborne. Clouds float beneath us. The flight attendant sits near the cockpit. Her eyes are wide, and she’s breathing heavily, but I recognize her as someone that knows how we work. She’ll be fine.
I look to Nicolette. “You okay?” I ask her.
Her knees are scratched and bleeding. That was my fault. “I did this to you,” I say, shaking my head.
“I know, right? How dare you try to save my life and give me a teeny scrape in the process? It would’ve been much nicer if you’d let me get shot, or maybe remembered how to immediately teleport us out of there before they shot at us.”
Thayer looks at me and his brows go up, but he doesn’t say anything.