Scared to say the word, I paced in the bathroom, as the sticks rested on the edge of the sink. I didn’t know how much time I would have before someone would come into the bathroom to check on me.
Come on. Come on.
To give myself something to do, I put the toilet cover down, sat on it, picked up the box, and read it.
Two lines. Pregnant. One line. Not. Simple. No problem.
One line or two. It was just that two lines meant the changing of my entire world. And one line kept everything the same.
Time must be up.
I picked up the first stick.
Two lines.
I began hyperventilating.
I’m pregnant.
I picked up the second stick.
One line. What?
I held them both in my hands and looked back at each on.
What the fuck does that mean? Pregnant or not. Come one. Not today.
I picked up the third one.
Nothing. No lines. This is some bullshit.
I considered all three sticks.
Can you get a false positive?
Tears fell from my eyes.
Just one fucking thing. And I couldn’t even get that. And now I’m fucking crying again. Stop it.
I put the sticks in the trash can.
Fuck this. I’m getting out of here. I’m going back to my baby. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m pregnant, or not, and I’m tired of fucking French people!
Rising, I opened the door.
Jean-Pierre stood right in front of the doorway. “Are you okay?”
I glanced behind him and counted two guards. “Yes.”
“Do you need a doctor?”
I blinked. “N-no.”
You know what? You’re not a bad guy. I’m going to try to get out of here without killing you.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Are you sure? You haven’t eaten. You’ve been fighting and killing men all day. Perhaps, you want to check on. . .things.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Of course not. That’s why you look like you’ve been hit repeatedly in the jaw by hard truth.”
“No.” I gritted my teeth. “My usual upbeat expression is gone, because I’ve been kidnapped.”
“We’ve treated you fairly.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Really?” He leaned his head to the side. “Do you roll your eyes at the Lion?”
None of your business.
I glared at him.
“Good. I hope you aggravate the shit, out of Kazimir. Does he have as much trouble with holding on to you, like I do?”
Enough with this. I have to escape. I’m going crazy.
The two guards appeared weary. One leaned against the wall.
I lowered my voice. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
Get him alone. Fuck him up. Get his gun. Run as fast as I can.
Saying nothing else, Jean-Pierre led me a few feet from the guards and the bathroom.
At that moment, Natalie opened her bedroom door, and almost bumped into him with Benji, still on her right hip. “Oh wow. Sorry.”
“No.” Jean-Pierre backed up. “I apologize.”
“It’s all good.” Natalie looked at him and then me. “How did those tests work out for you?”
“Uh. They were fine.” I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“Hmm.” Natalie nodded and glanced back at Jean-Pierre. “Okay.”
“I was just wondering, if I could talk to him privately.” I gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry. This is your apartment and—”
“Oh, no. Go ahead and use my room.”
Jean-Pierre eyed me with suspicion.
I walked inside. “Thanks so much. We won’t be long.”
“Girl, take all the time you need.” Natalie sighed. “You both have a lot to talk about.”
Do we? Whatever. I just need him alone.
Jean-Pierre followed. “What did you want to talk about?”
The door shut behind him.
I waited for another guard to come inside.
What now? Are they going to leave us alone?
I paced back and forth. “What’s your plan after this is over?”
“Oh. You want to have a brainstorming session with me?”
He has a gun on him. If I knock him out, I can get it. Then, what?
I stopped and stared. “You’re going to try and kill Kazimir.”
“Why would I tell you my thoughts.”
“I had a few days of peace with Kazimir. I want that to continue.”
“I agree. There’s nothing more that I want, than to reunite with Eden, and spend lazy days with her.” Jean-Pierre placed his hands in his pocket. “But a smart man would say that Kazimir is now motivated to retaliate. What are your thoughts?”
I returned to pacing. “It doesn’t have to be this way. It was kind of a misunderstanding. There doesn’t have to be war.”
Come on. Let me go. We’re good.
Skepticism covered Jean-Pierre’s face. “I was thinking that would be an acceptable excuse too, but when Kazimir started shooting the rocket launcher this morning, I figured I’d taken it too far.”
I rubbed my forehead. “This is going to get ugly.”
“As war gets.”
“More war,” I mumbled something under my breath.
“Why did you want to talk?”
I don’t want to talk. I just need your gun, and you lying on the floor unconscious.
I shook my head and walked around the room, taking in the things on the wall. Some of the porcelain ballerinas would be great objects. I would have to get it fast and crash it over his head.
He’s too quick for that shit. By the time I put my hand in the air to get a ballerina, he’ll have me on the floor.
I thought about how much I would have to fight him, and his men to get out of this apartment. I could get myself killed or even worse. . .
I could hurt the baby. . .if I’m pregnant.
Panic entered my bloodstream.
Okay. I’m going to be careful. I. . .fuck. Maybe I’m not pregnant.
I turned to the poster over Natalie’s bed. Kazimir’s dead ex, smiled back at me.
She must’ve been really popular in Europe.
I studied it for a few seconds. What a perfect woman. Long legs. Slender frame. A man in tights held her waist. Further in the back on the poster Natalie had tapped a picture of a crown on top of the head of the one, lonesome black ballerina far off on the side of the stage. That sister had a smile on her face. Her back was arched and hands high above her hands.
Enough of ballerinas. How am I going to knock Jean-Pierre out?
I walked over to the other side of the room. I stood staring at the large black ballerina on Natalie’s bookshelf.
I examined the ballet shoes, thinking I could choke him with the ties. “Sometimes I wish life was this simple.”
“Like Natalie’s life?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“Maybe.”
“I’m sure Natalie has had some hardships.” He gestured to the mountain of diapers in the corner, and the basket full of scattered toys.
I looked his way. For some reason, my hands shook. “Good point.”
“We all must deal with shit.”
I stared at him. “And now, Kazimir will be your shit.”
“He will, but why do you care? You’ve been around him. I’m sure you’re confident in the Lion.”
“A smart person doesn’t go to war, unless they’re confident that they’ll win.”
“You don’t think Kazimir is guaranteed to win against me?”
“I think that it’s not smart to go to war at all.” I placed my hands on my hips. “And I’ve been watching you.”
He gave me a weary smile. “Many do, but where is this going?”
“We exchange the women, safely, but how does everyone get out without the other side killing each other?”
“You don’t think a pinky promise will
work?”
I blinked in annoyance. “Are you always this sarcastic?”
“When I haven’t slept and have gone through the roughest fears in my life…yes.”
“You can’t just meet Kazimir at the location.” I let out a long breath. “Let me go to him on my own, and I can get Eden safely back to you, while making sure that no one has to look over their shoulder.”
Jean-Pierre frowned.
If you think, Kazimir is going to be chill in this situation. . .you haven’t been dealing with him long enough.
“Okay.” I paced. “This sounds crazy, but you have to trust me. I can talk to Kazimir. If I am with him, Eden will go back—”
“I don’t trust people, I don’t know. Why would I trust you?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Jean-Pierre, there will be a moment today, where you’ll need to trust me. If I get to Kazimir before you, then I can make sure that you all get out safely. I just want that same promise for Kazimir and me, when we leave Paris.”
“You won’t get to Kazimir before I do.”
I sure will! I’m tired of being away from him!
That fact made me uneasy, but I chose not to think of it.
I pulled up my confidence and glared at him. “If I do?”
“Then, I would be impressed—”
“And you would let me and Kazimir leave France safely?”
He chuckled. “Kazimir would have to behave the whole way to the airport. No more of my men killed.”
“I can do that.”
He quirked his eyebrows. “Can you?”
He will want to kill you, but. . .
I whispered, “I have my limits.”
Jean-Pierre considered it and then spoke, “This is an interesting topic, but you won’t talk to him before I do. Perhaps, we should discuss what you would do once we exchange.”
“I can’t make promises, if I don’t know what Kazimir has in mind.” I studied him.
This isn’t working.
I tapped my thigh with one hand. “We… we could be friends, Jean-Pierre.”
“And what does a friendship involve?”
“Lots and lots of trust.”
“I’m not letting you go, Mouse.”
“But if I go—”
“You won’t.” He snorted.
I tried again. “If I do, give me time to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
“A war between us.”
“I haven’t even thought beyond that.”
Idiot! How the hell haven’t you thought beyond that?!
I held in my anger. “That’s the problem.”
“Okay.” He stared at the poster for a few seconds. “If you go to Kazimir first, then I’ll give you time.”
“Let us leave Paris?”
“Oh yes. Kazimir and you leaving Paris would be fine with me.”
I returned to pacing. “And no war?”
“Not on my side, if Eden is back to me unharmed.”
I eyed him. “Define unharmed.”
“Not injured.”
“Kazimir wouldn’t hurt her. If others did, then that’s your problem with them. Not ours.”
“Fair.”
Fuck it. We’ll just have to wrestle. Who wants out of this room more?
“Okay.” I walked over and held my hand out to him. “We exchange with a few hiccups, but we don’t stress about those hiccups.”
He quirked his brows. “What am I shaking to?”
“Our friendship and no war.”
And maybe this ass whipping. Mine or yours.
Hyping myself up for a fight, I kept my hand out. “Jean-Pierre, to friendship?”
He extended his arm to shake.
Our hands connected.
You can do it. You can do it.
My arms were sore, but I gently pulled him in for a hug. He leaned my way. I kneed him hard in the crotch.
Sorry, Jean-Pierre.
Grunting, he doubled over. I used his weight against him and pushed him into the bookshelf. Ballerina figurines fell all over him as he crashed into the floor.
Sorry, Natalie.
Under the shelf, and cracked figurines, he reached out to grab me. “Get back over here!”
“I can’t.” I jumped out of his way and slammed his head against the shelf.
Pass out, man. Come on.
The shelf crashed further down on him. More ballet shoes fell around him. He blinked. Blood trickled down his forehead.
There we go.
He shut his eyes and rubbed his head.
Goodnight, buddy.
Nervous, I reached under his jacket and took his gun out the holster.
Okay. Now the guards in the hallway.
Movement came behind me.
Damn it.
Jean-Pierre would not passed out. He looked dizzy, but he was definitely trying to push off the bookshelf and get up.
Focus. Breath. You’ve got this.
Opening the door, I hurried out with the gun pointed.
Guard on the left.
I shot him in his leg. He fell on the ground and reached for his gun. I shot the arm and took it from him.
Where’s the other guy? I know your bitch ass is around here.
I rushed down the hallway with both hands pointing guns.
Shit. There you go.
The man walked out of the kitchen with a plate in his hand and a fork full of eggs in front of his face.
“Think.” I headed down the hallway. “What do you want to do? Eat or get shot?”
He glanced over his shoulder.
Rafael must’ve still been out on the balcony. I had no idea where Natalie, Benji, or Louis was.
“No one’s watching.” I inched further. “No one has to know.”
The guy put the food in his mouth and went back into the kitchen.
Let’s hope Jean-Pierre doesn’t kill you.
I ran to the front door and opened it.
Another guard stood outside the apartment.
I shot him in the chest.
He fell to the ground.
Rafael yelled from somewhere behind me. “What the fuck is going on?! Jean-Pierre? Louis?”
I shot the guard again, shut the door, and raced down the hallway toward the stairs. There was no way I would take that slow ass elevator.
I did it. I fucking did it!
A boom sounded behind me. I ran into the stairwell. Some fast guard pulled up right behind me.
Where the hell did you come from?
I shot him in the leg, then in the chest, and ran upstairs. More guards would come. Everyone expected me to go downstairs and out of the building. Somehow I would have to figure out another way near the roof. Maybe the buildings were close, and I could jump over.
Fuck. I suck at jumping.
I sped up the stairs.
Noises erupted below me. There’d been some other people in the stairwell that had nothing to do with Jean-Pierre or me. An old man screamed. A woman shrieked.
I stayed to the wall so if anyone looked up they couldn’t see me climbing up the stairs.
It’ll work. I’ve got this.
I did my best to keep the noise down as I hurried up.
Someone yelled. “Where is she?”
A guard rushed up the stairs, spotted me, and yelled., “Up here!”
I shot him.
More people screamed.
I yelled back and my deepest voice. “No, down here!”
Movement sounded from both sides. I had no idea if my quick impression worked or not. I spotted the door for the roof and pushed through.
I’m out of here!
Holding both guns in my hands, I ran to the edge and stared out at Paris. The next building was over twenty feet away. There was no way I could make it.
Okay. Now. How do I get out of here?
Chapter 9
Emily
There was no way to leave the roof.
I headed back to the stairwell. The gun weighed
heavy in my hand, but no comfort came.
Gwen’s floor was the seventh.
I went to the tenth, opened the door, and stepped in. Down the hallway, a chubby guy held two fast food bags in one arm and began to put his key in the door.
I placed the gun behind me and jogged over to him. “Hey.”
Looking my way, he opened his mouth. French came out.
“Fuck. Can you speak English?”
At the mention of English, he waved me away and went back to putting his key in the door.
“Hey. Wait a minute.” I hurried to him.
He shook his head again, opened the door, and spat out some words.
I have no idea what you’re saying. You probably think I’m selling something.
I glanced behind me and then him. No one else was in the hallway. I put the gun in front of me. “Let’s go inside.”
He shook his head and kept muttering something.
“Shh.” I shoved him inside of his apartment. He was thick, but didn’t spend much time in the gym. He stumbled back with ease. I kept the gun pointed at him and shut the door behind me.
Alright. Who do you have inside of here?
The place had been silent.
This apartment looked smaller than Gwen’s.
I turned to him. “Anyone else here?”
He widened his eyes as he stared at the gun.
“That’s right.” I frowned. “You can’t speak English.”
Of course not. This is his country.
The aroma of French fries filled the air. Saliva filled my mouth.
I gestured to his two bags with my gun. “Give me that.”
He grimaced and moved the bags away.
“Come on, man.” I wiggled the gun. “Don’t get shot over a burger.”
I motioned for him to give the bags to me.
With clear reluctance, he handed them my way.
I kept the gun pointed and snatched the bags from his hands. One dropped to the ground. Five burgers fell outside.
Five? So, there’s someone here?
I gestured for him to get the burgers and sit on the couch. He did. I took the other bag with the fries and hurried through the apartment doing a quick check of the place. It was only one bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom.
No one else is here.
“Okay. You bought five burgers for yourself. It must be a good spot.” I placed the bag I held on a table close by, took out one of the cartons of fries, and stuffed some in my mouth.
Dirty Minds: The Lion and The Mouse (Book 4) Page 12
