“Maybe I am,” I say. “But they’re good nerves. Come on, let’s get going—”
“Sir.”
I turn to find Larry, a dark haired man with calm green eyes, standing a few inches from me. I can tell by looking at him that’s something wrong. He’s got the look security people get when they have to break some bad news but don’t know how.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s … ah …”
He glances at Fiona and then back to me.
“Anything you can say to me,” I tell him, “you can say to Fiona.”
“It’s Zack Sykes,” he says.
Fiona gasps from beside me.
“What happened? What has he done?”
“I just wanted to let you know that he’s loitering outside the hotel with several of his associates. He hasn’t tried to enter the premises yet – he wouldn’t dare – but I thought you should be made aware. We’re already making plans to exit through the rear entrance—”
“Exit through the rear?” I roar, shaking my head. “I’m not going to scurry away for that motherfucker. Wait here—all of you. Nobody interferes. I’m handling this myself like I should have back at the bookstore.”
“Sir, that isn’t a good idea …”
“Forrest, don’t,” Fiona cries.
“If any of your men get in my way,” I tell Larry, “you’re fired. Do you understand? This motherfucker.”
I stalk toward the entrance, my fists tight at my sides, a song of war blaring in my mind.
I can’t think. I can hardly see.
It’s like a red film has been pulled over everything.
Who does this bastard think he is?
This is the most important day of my and Fiona’s life, and he thinks he can try and ruin it. He thinks he can stain it with his criminal goons.
I push out the double doors, guests parting as I stride down the pathway toward the castle-like gates.
I spot Zack standing on the other side of the street, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looks even more bloated with steroids in the day, and his six associates look exactly the same, all of them swollen with the way they artificially-enhance their bodies.
He kicks away from the wall as he sees me coming, a grin spreading across his face. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and pulls his shoulders back.
His goons do the same, all of them wearing suits with their hair styled exactly the same as Zack’s. He’s recruited himself an army of mini-me’s. They all wear gaudy gold watches, catching the midday sun and glinting like they’re trying to blind the city.
Horns blare at me as I walk across the street, cars coming to a stop, but I can’t think about that. I can’t think about anything except for the way this bastard is smirking at me.
I stop at the edge of the sidewalk, my fists clenched so hard I feel like my knuckles are going to explode out of my skin, burst and splinter, and cut.
“Hello, Ford,” Zack grins. “How nice of you to come out and say hello.”
Pedestrians give us a wide birth, walking onto the cycle path rather than get into the middle of the confrontation.
“You’re a fucking idiot for coming here,” I snarl. “Do you understand that? Can’t you get it into your moronic head that I’ll do anything to protect my woman and her family?”
“Your woman,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, old man. Fiona belongs to me. She always has. I first saw her, and I watched her from a distance. I bided my time. I knew the day would come. And it did, and she loved it … She loved those letters. There was just a misunderstanding, but I’ll set it right once I’ve got her alone.”
“You’re insane,” Fiona says from beside me.
I turn, a vein throbbing in my neck, pulsing like it’s going to erupt.
Fiona stands next to me, and Larry and the security detail hover across the street. Even from here, I can read the indecision on his face, his struggle between getting involved and protecting his employer and the order I gave him not to intervene.
Fiona wasn’t supposed to follow me.
“Oh, I’m crazy, alright,” Zack says, stepping forward and reaching into his pocket. “Crazy with love.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Fiona
My heart hammers in my chest as Zack pulls his hand from his pocket. I flinch and take a step back, anxiety coursing through me like boiling water, scorching every part of me.
He’s going to pull a knife, a gun …
But no.
It’s the letters. He’s holding the letters out to me, a vicious smirk on his face.
“Remember these, little lady?” he chuckles. “I wonder how your new man would feel if he could read these little love notes.”
“She wrote them when she was a child, you fucking lunatic,” Forrest growls.
I’ve never seen him like this before, with every part of him tense and ready to erupt. I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing, hoping I can tell him through the gesture that he doesn’t need to stoop to their level.
He glances at me, his eyes hard, his lips twisted into something savage and ferocious.
“It’s time for you to leave,” he snarls, turning back to Zack. “You’ve tried intimidating us and it clearly hasn’t worked. So just fuck off and never come back. Or I swear to God, this is it for you.”
“Don’t threaten me, Ford,” Zack snarls. “You might feel tough because you’ve got your little security over there. But I’ll find you when you’re alone—”
“I’ve called my security off,” he growls. “So if you’re going to do something, here I am.”
He spreads his arms, his hands still clenched into tight fists.
“Bullshit,” Zack says. “You’re trying to trick me.”
He sounds like a little kid with his voice wavering. People have stopped walking by us now, forming a circle, some of them with their phones out aimed at us.
“Forrest,” I say. “Let’s just go.”
“Shut up, you slut,” Zack snarls, and all his men snigger.
Shame drenches me in a tsunami of memory. All the times I’ve ever been humiliated, bullied, ridiculed, come crashing down on me and I want to scream.
I want to roar and hammer my chest with my fists and tell the world that I don’t deserve to be treated this way.
But I can’t find my voice. It’s like his insult has coiled an invisible, but very real rope around my neck.
“Apologize,” Forrest snarls, stepping forward, still with his arms spread as though he’s welcoming an attack.
“For what?” Zack laughs maniacally, slipping the letters back into his jacket.
When he pulls his hand out again, he’s gripping a knuckle-duster, nasty-looking, the iron glinting in the light.
“Forrest,” I whimper. “Let’s just go.”
“That’s my woman you’re talking to,” Forrest growls. “You don’t get to speak to her that way, never again, you piece of shit. So apologize or this is going to go very badly for you.”
“Has he really called off his security, my little whore?”
“Forrest,” I say, ignoring Zack, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.
“You really think you’re tough because your daddy sells a few drugs on the streets?” Forrest chuckles. “You think you’re tough because you kidnap innocent girls and force them into sexual slavery? You’re pathetic, boy, fucking pathetic.”
“Don’t you talk about my dad,” Zack whines.
“I’ve done some digging,” Forrest says, smirking, seemingly with no idea that it’s him against seven of them. “And it turns out your fucked-up crime Family is under investigation by the FBI. How do you think it’ll look when the world sees what a pathetic worm you really are? How do you think the other crime families will react, eh?”
“What are you talking about?” Zack snaps.
“The cameras, you idiot,” I cry.
I ges
ture at the pedestrians, dozens of phones aimed at us.
“Everybody can see what you’re doing.”
“You weak, pathetic fuck,” Forrest laughs, stepping forward, getting closer to Zack and his men and the possibility of his death.
I move forward with him, but he senses where I am, and inches sideways to stop me from being able to get involved. His broad silver-suited back blocks me, the tendons in his neck twitching.
“I guess you’ve got no choice but to prove you’re not scared now,” Forrest growls. “So do it, kid. Show the world how tough you are.”
“No,” I cry, but it’s too late.
Zack leaps forward and smashes Forrest across the mouth with the knuckle-duster.
Forrest takes the blow, turning his head to the side.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Zack cries, hitting Forrest again and again.
Each time, Forrest takes the strikes.
I dart forward, screaming, my hands outstretched. But then somebody has their hand on my arm and they’re pulling me back.
It’s the security man from before, the one Forrest called off before he stormed out here.
“Help him,” I cry.
The man frowns. “It’s not him we need to help.”
I turn to see what he’s talking about.
Forrest has taken all the blows without flinching, and now he rubs the blood from his mouth and holds it up in the glittering Parisian sun.
“You know what this means?” he says, grinning wolfishly at Zack and his goons. “This is going to be self-defense.”
“Get him,” Zack roars, waving his hand, gazing at Forrest like he’s not human.
I struggle against Larry, but he holds me firmly, making it so I can’t get to my man.
The men swarm on Forrest, all of them big and mean-looking, waving their fists like weapons made of bone.
Everything happens so fast. It’s so hard to make sense of it all.
Forrest ducks under a blow and comes up with a savage strike to somebody’s belly, and then he grabs a man’s wrist and spins him around, using him as a battering ram to send two more men hurtling to the ground.
He spins and grunts, his eyes focused, moving fluidly like a professional fighter.
His elbow crushes another man’s jaw and then he’s dancing away, hands raised, ducking and feinting as another man leaps at him. The man reacts to the feint, jumping out of the way, and Forrest charges him and slams him against the wall.
“Behind you,” I cry, when two men leap at him, their arms outstretched.
Forrest ducks at just the right moment, throwing his elbows out to catch the men in the stomach.
They keel over and make croaking noises, and then Forrest spins and catches Zack by the throat as he leaps forward.
He tightens his fist and lifts him off the ground.
Zack’s face turns red and he starts to gasp, clawing at Forrest’s iron grip.
The men don’t know what to do. Some of them are groaning on the floor, and the others back aware cautiously, like Forrest is a fire they can’t get too close to unless they want to get burned again.
Forrest slams Zack against the wall.
“Apologize or I’ll choke you the fuck out,” he snarls. “You have no right to talk to any woman like that. But you especially don’t have a right to talk to my woman like that.”
“I’m—sorry,” Zack gasps, clutching onto Forrest’s forearm to relieve some of the pressure.
“Not to me,” Forrest roars.
“Fiona, please,” Zack gasps. “I’m sorry.”
Forrest turns to me. Some of the ferocity of his expression softens when his eyes come to rest on me.
“Well, firecracker,” he says, with a slight smirk on his bloodied lip. “Do you accept his apology?”
“I shouldn’t,” I say, glaring at Zack. “Do you hear me, Zack? I should let my man choke you right here. You had no right to go after me and my family. But… Yes, let him go, Forrest. He’s not worth it.”
Forrest drops him and steps back, nodding to the security man with his hand still on my arm.
“Alright, boys,” he says. “You can apprehend these bastards now while we wait for the police to arrive. I’m going to go and get cleaned up. I’ll be inside if they need to speak with me.”
“You heard him,” the security man Larry barks, as the others move in for backup. “Let’s make sure these assholes stay right where the boss put them.”
Forrest walks over to me and takes my hand. He’s shaking slightly as he walks back across the street and into the hotel lobby.
People glance at us in curiosity – they probably heard some commotion outside – but we ignore them as we walk over to the private elevator.
It’s only once we’re inside and alone that he lets out a trembling breath, looking at me with his bright wolfish eyes.
“I wanted to kill him,” he growls shakily. “For the way, he spoke to you, for what he did to you… I wanted to end him, Fiona.”
“But then we wouldn’t get to spend the rest of our lives together,” I murmur, moving close to him and laying my face against his chest.
His heart hammers through his pectoral, drumming against the side of my face.
He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him, bringing his face to my hair and inhaling deeply, contentedly, his hands gripping tightly onto my shoulders.
“I sort of lost control there didn’t I,” he chuckles.
“You think?” I whisper, a smile quirking my lips upward.
“I just couldn’t stand the idea of him thinking he could scare you. Because he can’t, Fiona, not now, not ever. I’ll protect you for the rest of our lives. The bastard needed to know it. No—more than that. He needed to feel it.”
“I think he did,” I murmur. “That was crazy. There were seven of them and you went through them like they were nothing.”
“Seven, seven hundred, it doesn’t matter,” he growls. “I’d fight an entire army for you, firecracker. And don’t you ever forget that.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Forrest
I grip onto my woman’s leg, squeezing her thigh as the sedan glides through the city. The sun has started to set, blazing reds and oranges making everything around us sparkle like we’re in a dream.
Taking her to the surprise destination wasn’t supposed to happen so late, but fighting Zack and his hired thugs wasn’t part of the plan, either.
We’ve spent most of the day with the police, giving statements, waiting to see if I’m going to be arrested or charged for the part I played in the violence.
But once the police saw the video of Zack hitting me a few times before I responded – and of Zack setting his thugs on me – they let me go.
I turn to find my woman smiling over at me, her hair tousled and freshly-washed around her shoulders.
She’s wearing a deep purple dress with a low cut, showing off a tantalizing slice of her cleavage, enough to turn me rock solid and make me half-feral.
After, a voice roars inside of me. This needs to be done.
“What do you think will happen now?” she murmurs.
“With Zack?”
She nods.
“He’ll be arrested for assault and extradited to the States. His family, once they see how easily I humiliated him and learn about the FBI investigation, will implode into in-fighting. Another family will take its place. Or maybe the FBI will win and stop the mob rule for good. Either way, you’re safe. Your family is safe.”
“Our family,” she says passionately, squeezing onto my hand. “You’re not alone anymore, Forrest. You’re never going to be alone again.”
I smirk and smooth my hand from her thigh to her belly, holding it there so I can feel the life growing inside of her.
“I can feel our baby in there,” I tell her.
She giggles and places her hand atop mine, pressing down so my hand is applying more pressure through her dress, against her skin.
“I’m pretty sure tha
t’s impossible,” she says.
“Maybe it is,” I growl. “But it should be impossible to fall for a woman just by seeing her across a busy street in a café window. It should be impossible how much I care for you, how deeply, how certain I am that you’re the woman I’m going to be with for the rest of my life. So don’t use the word impossible with me, firecracker.”
She blinks, tears glistening in her eyes.
“You mean that?” she whimpers.
“Of course,” I growl. “It’s me and you—”
“Forever,” she says.
“Exactly,” I smirk, moving my hand up her body to her face.
I stroke tears from her cheeks, and then hold her in the way we both love.
She turns her cheek toward me, smiling adorably.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Do you ever quit?”
“You don’t call me firecracker for nothing, right?”
“We’re going someplace we’ll remember for the rest of our lives,” I tell her.
“It must be somewhere special,” she says.
I nod. “It is. But it’s not just the place that makes it special. It’s what’s going to happen there.”
“Oh, cryptic,” she giggles. “Care to give me a clue?”
I swallow, laughing inwardly in disbelief.
After the day we’ve had, how can these nerves still riot and twist inside of me?
“No way,” I smirk. “You’ll have to just wait and see.”
“Where is everybody?” Fiona murmurs as we glide through the gates and the Eiffel Tower looms above us.
I smirk across at her.
“I’ve paid to have it reserved for the evening. Well, I paid for the afternoon … so I paid twice. But it’s worth it for the privacy.”
Her mouth falls open, giving me savage ideas even if I know that this moment is supposed to exist in a world of romance, not savage release. But it’s difficult to restrain myself when she looks at me like that, her lips forming an inviting O, reminding me of how she moaned and cried out last night.
“Um,” she says after a long pause.
Paris With The Billionaire: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 12
