We stared at the scene before us a little longer, and then I sighed. “Come on. We better catch up.”
Otto wrapped his arm around my shoulder again, and stepped away from the wall. The tourist beside me stepped off the wall, and in a movement too quick for me to comprehend, held a switchblade to my stomach.
“Your purse, mademoiselle. And your wallet,” he said in a low voice to Otto. Otto looked confused for three seconds, until he looked down at the guy's hand, and back up to his face. The mugger—because there was no doubt in my mind we were about to be a statistic—was a generic-looking guy, blond but not attractive, with a hat pulled down low over his face. “Now,” he hissed, and it shook Otto from his stupor.
He pulled out his wallet, handing it to the guy, and I slipped my purse from my shoulder. “There’s a book in there…” I started, but the guy just pressed the knife harder into my stomach and the words dried up in my throat.
He looked back at Otto. “Your phone and watch too, into the bag.” He said it all with a smile on his face, like he was having a friendly conversation with us about Notre Dame.
“You need to back the fuck up before I rip your head off, asshole,” Otto growled, but he was still removing his watch, dropping it into my handbag. Then he pulled out his phone and placed it in there too. “This isn’t going to end well for you.”
The man shrugged. “What will happen? You will describe every man under forty in Paris to the police, they will give you a number to claim on travel insurance and we are all happy, oui?”
Otto started laughing. “Yeah, oui, motherfucker.”
The guy's face went pale, and when I looked around his shoulder, Evan was there. The look on his face was calm, like this was a regular occurrence. “I am holding a 9mm Sig Sauer to your spine. You so much as move, I’m going to use a bullet to sever it and eviscerate more than a few of your internal organs. Do you understand?”
“Oui. Y-yes,” the guy stammered.
“Good. Now give back their stuff.” The guy handed over my bag, and I clutched it to my chest. “Aviva, Otto, walk around me and back toward Hendrick, please.”
I did as I was told, and once I was behind Evan, I sprinted toward Hendrick and Sampson. Hendrick grabbed me up, spinning me so his body was between me and Evan with the mugger.
“Are you okay? Fuck, I was scared as hell, Viva.” He clutched me to his chest too tightly, like he was still scared something would go wrong and we’d be dead. Otto came up behind us then, and Hendrick gently pushed me into Sampson’s arms to grab Otto into a tight hug. Then he leaned back, scowling at his full-time friend and part-time lover. “What were you thinking? Did you forget all of Evan’s training? Give them what they want. Disengage and walk away with your damn life.”
“He had a knife pressed into her stomach, Drix. A fucking knife. One accidental bump from a pedestrian and she would’ve been dead.”
Sampson’s hand ran up and down my spine, and I was pressed tightly to his chest as he spoke to the police on his phone. Quickly, the blue flashing lights and high-pitched siren of the police cars arrived.
I looked around Sampson’s shoulders and noticed that Evan had the guy facedown on the ground, which had to be gross. Two French policemen hopped out of the car, and Otto detangled himself to go speak to the police. “I’ll make a statement. Take her back to the hotel. Evan and I will grab the car and meet you back there.”
Sampson nodded, hailing a cab down, and Hendrick just watched Otto go. “It makes me so fucking hot when he’s all authorative like that. I want to tell him ‘fuck you’ because he’s not my boss, but on the flip side, I kind of want him to fuck me at the same time.”
A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled out of my throat, and I could see Sampson roll his eyes in the moonlight. He hustled us both into the car, Hendrick squashing me close to his side. Sampson gave the cab driver the address of the apartment, and the driver grunted. Guess that meant he knew where it was.
The guys squished closer to me than necessary, but I didn’t care. I was still clutching my purse and it wasn’t until I dropped it in my lap that I realized I was shaking. Actually, my whole body was shaking. I’d almost fucking died; Otto had been right.
My breathing became labored and the walls of the car seemed to creep in. Sampson leaned forward. “I will give you an extra hundred euros if you can get us there in less than ten minutes.”
The cab driver grinned, said something in rapid French, and hit the gas.
My breathing was getting choppy again, and it felt like someone had placed a bowling ball on my chest. “I’m having a heart attack,” I wheezed, and Sampson went pale.
“Should we take her to a hospital?”
I felt more than saw Hendrick shaking his head. “She isn’t having a fucking heart attack. She’s having a panic attack. Textbook presentation—I should know. Viva, I’m going to hold your hands, is that okay?” When I nodded, he gripped my hands. “I want you to squeeze them as hard as you can, and we’ll breathe in time.” I was shaking my head, but Hendrick just laced his fingers in mine and pulled them to his lap. “Squeeze. And tell me something. Tell me about Nemo. Tell me how he’s more romantic than I am.”
I heard Sampson’s thumping punch. “Really? This isn’t the right time to stroke your ego.”
“It's the right time all the time,” Hendrick snarked back. “Come on, Viva. Tell us about what you hope for when you find him.”
My thoughts around Nemo were already disorganised, and I shook my head more, still gasping shallowly. “I can’t.”
“That’s okay, Viva. We’re here,” Sampson whispered in my ear. “We will keep you safe. Listen to my voice, feel how certain I am that I will never, ever let anyone harm you. Not even the men I love the most in this world. I will protect you, Good Girl. Always. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He stroked his hand up and down my thigh. “Good girl... We’re almost back at the apartment, and then I’m going to tuck you into bed and we’ll pretend this whole night was just a bad dream. Tomorrow, we’ll book a flight for Kolkata, and when we get there, we’ll track down that damn book. I’ve always wanted to go to the flower markets. Do you have a favorite flower?”
“Not magnolia.”
Hendrick snorted, and I remembered that he’d read my file. “Definitely not the magnolia.”
“What is it?”
“Dahlia?”
Sampson made a noise of approval, and it warmed something in my chest. Or maybe cooled the burning heat that was threatening to suffocate me. “Beautiful choice, Good Girl. We will buy enough dahlias to fill the hotel room. Every color they have. Would you like that?”
I was nodding, the panic receding until I no longer felt like I was being strangled.
Hendrick squeezed my hand again, and I realized I’d been flexing my fingers in his. “Ready to breathe with us, beautiful? In...” He sucked in a lungful of air, and I found myself inhaling with him. “And out...” The air whooshed out of my nostrils, and my heart rate calmed a little. We did it a few more times before the cab skidded to a stop outside our apartment building.
“Nine minutes and forty-five seconds,” the cab driver announced, and Hendrick laughed. He slid from the cab as Sampson paid, picking me up in his arms and clutching me to his chest.
The ancient elevator creaked as it reached the top floor, and Sampson unlocked the front door, ushering us in and locking it up tight behind him. Hendrick didn’t even slow his step, walking into the bedroom we’d had sex in earlier and laying me down on the bed. I sat there like an invalid as he pulled off my shoes and socks, peeling off my jacket and lifting my shirt over my head.
“Lift your butt. Holy shit, did you pour yourself into these jeans? They are tiny,” he huffed, tugging them down my thighs. Reaching into the suitcase we were yet to unpack, he pulled out one of his Henleys. “Wear this if you want, beautiful. Or nothing. I’m total
ly good with nothing too,” he teased, and I couldn’t help but give him a weak smile back.
I scooted up the bed and Hendrick pulled back the blankets for me. Looking over at the doorway, I saw Sampson leaning there, taking in the whole scene with eyes that saw way too much.
Hendrick tugged the soft blanket up to my chin and kissed me on the forehead. “Rest, Viva. It’ll be better in the morning.”
He stepped toward the door and panic seized my heart again. “Wait!” They both froze. “Will Otto and Evan be okay?”
Sampson nodded. “You still have Otto’s phone, but Evan messaged to say he was done with the police already and they’re on their way back to the car.”
I bit my lip, my gut still burning and my heart still thumping, despite the fact that my brain knew I was fine now. That nothing had happened. These guys had my back, all of them.
“Will you guys stay with me until I fall asleep?” I asked quietly, and Hendrick was back across the room with no shirt on before I’d even finished the sentence. “No sex. I, uh, just don’t want to be alone.”
Hendrick looked affronted, but nodded. “Viva, despite the rumors, I’m not about to jump a girl who just had a panic attack. My dick can cure many things, but not that.” He paused. “I mean, at least I don’t think so. I’ve never actually tried.”
Sampson slapped him on the back of the head, before standing over the bed and taking in my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, sitting up to pull Hendrick’s shirt over my head.
“Wait!” Sampson yelled, making me jump. He moved to the bed, his fingers running gently down my stomach. “He cut you.”
I looked at my stomach, and sure enough, there was the slightest scratch on my stomach. It had obviously bled at some point, but I hadn’t noticed, probably because of the amount of adrenaline flowing through my veins.
Sampson’s eyes were molten with rage. “He. Cut. You.” Oh shit. The fury in his voice was palpable. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell. “I’m calling Evan. I want the fucker locked up. I want him shanked and thrown in the motherfucking Seine. Fuck.”
Oh shit. He was having a full-blown meltdown. “Sam, I’m fine.”
“You aren’t fine, Good Girl. You had a fucking panic attack in the cab. You got cut with his fucking knife. Have you had a tetanus shot? What if there was something disgusting on that fucking blade?”
He was beginning to pace, and I looked over at Hendrick, who was staring at Sampson with eyes as wide as mine. I mouthed, What do I do? He just shrugged. Hopeless.
“Sampson.” Ignoring me, he just kept walking back and forward. “Sampson!” He spun on his heel and looked at me, his eyes immediately going to the minor scratch on my stomach. “I’m fine. Please, hop into bed and hold me for a while?”
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, but took his clothes off until he was just down to his boxers. As he climbed in beside me, Hendrick sauntered to the other side of the bed before sliding in. They both pressed close, and I was sandwiched between their warmth—Sampson curled around my back, and my legs tangled in Hendrick’s.
I let the adrenaline crash pull me under before my crazy body could take advantage of the sandwich I was currently in.
Chapter 28
Otto
It was painful to look at her. Sampson and Hendrick were both wrapped around a sleeping Aviva. Neither of them were asleep though, both just staring silently at the ceiling. As I watched them, they slipped out of bed, though how they could bear to do it was beyond me.
She reached for Hendrick, but he tucked the pillows and blankets around her and she settled back down to sleep. They tiptoed into the main room, and I stood aside to let them pass. I just wanted to watch her for a few more moments, to appease my mind that she was okay.
When her breathing evened back out, I met the guys in the living room. “How is she?”
Hendrick shook his head. “Freaked out. Had a panic attack in the cab home.”
“He cut her,” Sampson growled, and my heart clenched. I wanted to go back in there, search her entire body for injuries. “She says it's fine, that she's up to date on her shots, but what if there was something on that blade?”
Evan shook his head. “I looked at it. The guy might have been a piece of shit, but he kept his weapons clean.”
Sampson huffed, only slightly appeased. “What did the cops say?”
Evan shook his head again. “Not much. It's an unfortunate occurrence—we’ve lived in New York for long enough to know that. They took Otto’s statement, dragged the guy away, will probably charge him tonight, and then he’ll be out on bail before lunchtime tomorrow. It is what it is.”
Sampson punched the back of the couch, and I watched him cautiously. Normally, it was Hendrick with the anger, but Hendrick seemed bizarrely calm right now. Had they swapped bodies?
“I want you on her at all times,” Sampson snapped, and his long-time bodyguard tensed.
“That’s not how it works, Sam. You’re my priority.”
Sampson got up in his face, and I stepped forward just in case I had to pull him back. “I pay your salary. I am reprioritizing you.”
“Sampson.” Evan looked around at us all. “I’m not leaving you vulnerable because you want me to take care of some random girl you guys just picked up,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’ve seen you guys do this time and time again. You find a girl to obsess over. You fuck her and two weeks later, you forget her. I am not watching her ass and leaving you vulnerable because you’re getting your dicks wet.”
I let out a surprised yell as Sampson threw a punch at Evan, but the guy was a former Marine. He was fast, and Sampson’s swing barely grazed his cheekbone, which just infuriated him more. “It’s not fucking like that.”
Evan stepped back, looking at us all with something akin to disappointment on his face. “What’s it like then? You’re passing her around like she’s a cheap bottle of beer and not a human being.”
Now it was my turn to be mad. “You’ve got it fucking wrong.”
Evan bared his teeth at me. “Explain it to me then, because you kidnap a fucking girl from a psych ward, drag her across the fucking ocean and then all fuck her. Unless I’m going blind and she wasn’t spread out on Sampson’s lap in fucking public this morning?”
“I like her,” I hissed. I’d never heard Evan speak to us like this. Normally he was completely professional, or more like a big brother—cool but firm.
“Obviously.”
Sampson cocked his head to the side, watching Evan’s face closely. “Why do you care?” he said softly, and I knew that tone. He was about to go in for the kill.
Evan swallowed hard and shrugged like he didn’t give a fuck. “She’s a nice girl.”
Sampson made a rude noise. “So were the others, but you didn’t get self-righteous over them. And don’t give me some bullshit about my safety. We both know that you’ve been giving me fucking disappointed looks since London.”
Evan pressed his lips together, but didn’t answer. We stood there in silence, the object of contention sleeping blissfully unaware in the other room. Finally, he sighed, all the posturing leaking right out of him. “She’s broken already, Sam. Anyone with two eyes can see it. She’s a good person under all that damage, and I don’t think she could survive the usual bored rich boy treatment you give women.” He paused. “When she ran away, she looked so fucking sad. Like she’d been kicked around every day of her life and didn’t know how to stand back up. It doesn’t sit right with me to just let that happen again.”
Sampson frowned. “You like-like her.”
Hendrick snorted. “What are we? Ten?”
Sampson waved him off. “You want her. You’re nearly a fucking decade older than her.”
A light flush touched Evan’s cheeks, but the rest of his face stayed impassive. “Just looking out for her. I’ll hire extra security for the whole group.” He turned and left, pulling out his phone as he went.
Sampson shook his head. “He needs to remember his place. He can’t bitch at me about watching her back and then whine that he likes her. What could he give her anyway?”
Oh shit, now Sampson was jealous. “A normal life? One without bulletproof glass and paparazzi?” I couldn’t help but poke the bear a little bit. I’d never seen Sampson like this before; he usually was the very essence of a fucking insouciant overlord. Rarely did he get this worked up, unless someone crossed him, or it related to me and Hendrick.
“He made a good point, though.” Both Hendrick and Sampson whirled on me. “She is different, and you guys are different too when she’s around. You better figure your shit out, because if you don’t, Evan will be right. We’ll ruin her for no other reason than that we’re selfish.”
With that, I strode into Aviva’s room, stripping off to my boxers and climbing in beside her. I needed to hold her, because Sampson, Hendrick and Evan might not know how they felt, but I did. Aviva had captured something in me, and I was fairly sure it was my heart.
We were stuck in Paris for another day while Evan cobbled together another bodyguard or two. Not giving Aviva time to overthink, we hustled out of the apartment early and down to a Parisian bakery to pick up pastries that were insanely good. We sat on the grass beneath the Eiffel Tower and ate, and I watched the tension flow from Aviva’s body as I played with her hair in the sun.
Even Hendrick looked more relaxed, his hand wrapped around her ankle as he dozed. Sometimes getting out from beneath his dad’s thumb really helped. He opened one eye and looked up at me. “Maybe we should just stay here. I like Paris. I’m sure we could buy the apartment.”
Aviva snorted. “Sure, we should buy a Parisian apartment that probably costs more than the GDP of a small country, just because you like lying in the sun.”
“What makes you think you were included in that ‘we,’ Viva?”
Inside the Maelstrom Page 16
