“I was ordered to be here.”
I shook my head. “You’re Sampson’s bodyguard. Go back and do your job.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “You definitely aren’t my boss, so no.” He looked around, and still holding my arm, dragged me across the road and into a pub. The inside was dark and smelled of old cigarettes, but Evan herded me to the bar.
“Two scotches. The good stuff. Neat,” he told the bartender, who had the most impressive sideburns I’d seen since Elvis. The guy didn’t say anything about us drinking before lunch, just pouring us both a couple of fingers of scotch. Didn’t ask to see my ID or anything.
Evan threw a bill on the bar, and looked pointedly at the glass in front of me. “Drink.” I frowned at him but being drunk did seem like a pretty good idea right now. I threw it back, and then he pushed the second one in front of me. “This one too.”
Whatever. Down it went too.
“Feel better?”
I shook my head. “No. I feel like a high-priced hooker.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow until Evan gave him a pointed look. The man moved away to wipe down the bar at the other end. “So what?”
“Pardon?”
“So what if they’re dropping cash? Do you not want them too? Are they pressuring you for sex? If that’s the case, I’ll put you on a plane home myself right now.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it. I do want them. All of them. But…” I looked up into his eyes. “Don’t you think it's kind of wrong? Morally, I mean?”
Evan’s lips twisted. “If you’re worried about morality, you picked the wrong group of people to go on this trip with.” He shook his head, but he was amused more than disdainful of his charge’s apparent lack of morals. “Look, I get it. Their flashy shows of wealth make you feel like shit. Like you aren’t worth the four hundred thousand pounds that Sampson just sunk on your bookstore.”
Holy shit, I hoped that scotch tasted as good coming back up because I was going to throw up. “How much?”
“It's a business in the heart of London. How much did you think a bookstore would cost?”
Oh, shit. My heart was thundering in my ears. “Why?”
Evan shrugged. “He likes you. I’ve been guarding that little fuck since he was fifteen, and he doesn’t like anyone. That amount of money is nothing to a man like Sampson. And he’s just bought a prime piece of London real estate, so don’t let it stress you, kid. They aren’t getting swindled in this deal. They are like vampires, sucking the innocence from you one experience at a time. You shouldn’t feel bad about that; it’s a fair trade.”
I frowned. “You sound like you hate them.”
Evan shook his head. “No. I’m fond as hell of them. All of them. But the world they live in? It isn’t meant for the sweet and the innocent. It isn’t meant for nice boys with good hearts. Even Otto isn’t the boy he once was.” He tapped the bar, and the bartender poured another two glasses of scotch.
This time, Evan pushed one at me and gripped the other. “When Sampson was fifteen, one of his grandfather’s competitors had him abducted while he waited for his driver outside of school. They held him for twelve days while his grandfather negotiated his release. In the end, the kidnappers kept raising the price higher and higher because they knew that his grandfather would give anything to get his heir back. I was part of the private task force sent in to rescue him. Kid was so dehydrated I thought he’d die in my arms. He looked at me and begged me not to leave him down in the dark. What kind of world tortures a fucking kid like that for business contracts?”
Fuck. Poor Sampson.
“After that, I was hired as Sampson’s permanent bodyguard. I was there when his grandfather passed away, and he was shipped to the East Coast. Not once did his father ask his son if he was okay, or suggest therapy. He did nothing to show that he cared about Sampson in any way.” Evan sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that money is not a rare commodity to people like Hendrick Kenley and Sampson Rubio. Love is. Friendship. Human connection that doesn’t come with strings.”
I sipped the scotch. “But it does come with strings,” I whispered.
“Does it?”
I was so fucking confused. Evan tapped my glass with his finger. “Relax, Aviva. I’ll message the guys and tell them we’ll meet them back at the hotel soon. Take a moment to breathe.” He looked over my shoulder and grinned. It lit up his face, making his eyes sparkle and a dimple form in one cheek. “Do you play pool?”
I’d been right. He was really something when he smiled.
Chapter 22
Otto
Evan and Aviva returned to the hotel six hours after Aviva had stormed out of the car. No one had breathed until Evan called to say she was okay, that they were just going to take a moment and he’d make sure she was safe. That we should do what we needed to do at the Iron Nautilus and they’d meet us back at the hotel.
We’d gone to the bookstore, met with the owner and scoured every single Verne book until we found the one. I almost wished we could throw it out and go home. We were causing harm to Aviva, even if we were doing it with good intentions. Fucking road to Hell and all that. But Hendrick wouldn’t let me toss it, taking it off me and holding it close, like Aviva did to that damn copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.
He’d been sitting out on the balcony, silent, for the last three hours. Sampson had paced up and down the hall of our suite, and I’d just sat here. Waiting uselessly.
When Evan finally knocked on the door, Sampson sprinted to open it. Evan stepped into the room, holding a drunk as fuck Aviva. She was singing Beatles songs under her breath, and smiling up at Evan like he was her hero or something..
“Evan, I can walk,” she mumbled, and he shook his head.
“I told you to stop after that third Flaming Sambuca, Chaos,” he teased. I’d never heard Evan tease anyone. Not even Sampson, who he’d known for nearly a decade. Sam frowned, and held out his arms. Evan locked eyes with him, but handed over Aviva. She looked truly tiny in his arms. “I swear, she only had like six drinks. She’s small, and a bit of a lightweight.”
I shook my head. “It's the meds.” She’d missed her meds tonight, and I didn’t know if she should take them on a belly filled with booze.
She looked up at Sampson. “I’m mad at you.” Well, it came out like I’m smaad at youse but I got the general gist.
“Why are you mad at me, Good Girl?” Sampson asked softly.
“You bought me a bookstore.”
He moved toward her room and I moved with him. Evan remained in the door, as if he was unsure what to do. He’d figure it out.
“No, I didn’t. I bought myself a bookstore. How do you know that it wasn’t my lifelong dream to own a bookstore in London, hmm?” Sampson murmured back to her.
“Is it?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed low, standing with her in the middle of her room. “No, Good Girl. It isn’t.”
“I don’t deserve good things. Evan says that you guys are taking more than you’re giving and I shouldn’t feel guilty, but what does he know? He doesn’t know that I would happily fuck you for free—you don’t have to buy me off. Does that make me sound like a whore?”
Sampson looked up at me, an eyebrow raised. I stepped toward her, stroking her face. “No one thinks of you like that, Viva. I’m sorry if we made you think we are trying to buy you for sex.”
She shook her head and snuggled into Sampson’s chest. “Why do you smell so pretty? No, Evan says you’re buying me for human affection, which made me sad, which made me have three shots of sambuca against a guy with only one eye called Ned. His moustache caught on fire.”
“You give it so freely,” Sampson said, holding her a little tighter even though he was standing right over her bed.
“The sambuca?”
I snorted. “No, Viva. The affection.”
“Oh. Whatever. No more bookstores,” she said stubbornly. “No more buying.”
We
both nodded, and I wished Hendrick was here. “No more, Aviva. I promise. Just don’t run off again. You scared me,” I chastised gently, and she turned from Sampson’s chest to smile at me.
“I’m sorry, Otto. We should have a drink!”
I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, some painkillers and her meds. “Take your meds, Aviva, or you’re going to feel like crap tomorrow.” I handed her the pills and she threw them back without looking at them. Ah, Aviva. No regard for herself at all. How had she survived this long in a world filled with piranhas? “Put her down, Sampson. She needs to sleep this off.”
Sampson slid her to her feet, and she weaved dangerously before slumping back onto the bed. “Someone needs to turn off the bed vibration. It's spinning like hell.”
“This isn’t a rent-by-the-hour motel with vibrating beds,” Sampson said with a laugh. “Sleep tight. I have to go talk to Evan.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, which was more affection than I’d ever seen him give anyone, other than me and Hendrick.
When he left, I took off her beloved shoes then swung her legs onto the bed. She was like Elastigirl, she was that bendy when drunk. I pulled up the blankets and tucked them around her.
“Are you sure I’m worth this much effort?” she whispered.
I kissed her forehead. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, ever.”
She was already out like a light though. I turned her onto her side, just in case, and partially closed the door to her room. When I made it to the lounge room, Evan was gone, and Hendrick had come in from the balcony, still clutching the damn book.
“She okay?” he asked, and I smiled.
“Merry as hell. Ask her in the morning though—I think you’ll have a different answer.”
We were all silent for a while, relief consuming all of us until Hendrick went to the minibar and pulled out three bottles of beer. We went back out onto the balcony and watched the never-ending London traffic.
“What’s with Evan?” I finally asked, and Sampson’s jaw tightened.
“He warned me to stop fucking with her emotions. He’s worried we’ll send her over the edge.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what magic she possesses, but Evan feels protective of her too.”
Hendrick shrugged. “She gets under your skin like that.”
I watched Drix warily. I knew him, and I knew what would come next. I just wasn’t sure that Aviva would withstand it.
“We stop dallying. The longer she’s with us, the greater the chance she becomes something more,” Sampson said firmly. I nodded, even though it hurt my heart. Hendrick was the last to agree, sliding the book onto the table. Journey to the Center of the Earth.
“Tomorrow, we head to Paris.”
I’d forgotten to close the curtains before I fell asleep, and the blinding morning sun pierced my eyes. Rolling to the side, I reached for Drix, but he wasn’t there. Just like every time I woke up without him, I had a moment of panic.
“Hendrick?” I climbed out of bed, pulling on some sweats. The door to the bedroom was open but I couldn’t smell coffee or anything. “Drix?”
The doors to the balcony were open, and I told my racing heart that it was fine. If he’d jumped off, I’d know. But still, I went outside and held my breath as I looked over the edge. The relief I felt was just as irrational as the fear. Walking back into the suite, I checked the bathrooms. He could be sleeping with Sampson—he did that sometimes—but I didn’t think so. Not today.
I opened the door to Aviva’s room, and sure enough, there was Hendrick, lying on top of the blankets beside her, yet still somehow draped over the top of her like a limpet. I wanted to leave him there, but I wasn’t sure that Aviva wouldn’t freak out after last night. I didn’t think any of us could handle any more conflict.
I squatted down beside the bed and tapped Hendrick’s shoulder. He slept heavily when he actually rested, which wasn’t often. I pushed his arm lightly, and he finally woke. I crooked my finger at him, pointing back to the hallway, and he carefully disentangled himself.
I walked back to the kitchen to make coffee and calm my heart. Hendrick came out after me, shirtless. He was fucking beautiful, but he knew it. He worked hard to stay a social media version of perfect.
“You okay?”
I asked it in a particular way, like I cared, but not too much. If I cared too much, he spiralled into a pit of self-loathing for making me worry. If I didn’t care at all, he decided I was tired of him, and then again with the self-loathing. Over the years, I’d learned to develop the correct tone when he got in these moods.
He’d seemed better after this stint at the Wellness Center though. The doctor there was pretty respected in his field, so I had high hopes.
“I’m okay, Otto. Really.” I slid his coffee toward him, and he gave me that soft smile that did crazy shit to my heart. “Do you think we’re ruining her, like Evan said?”
I pressed the preset buttons on the coffee machine, mulling over the question. You couldn’t ruin someone in a week, accidentally. If I was being honest, I was surprised how gentle the guys were with her, despite their general high-handedness. “I think she was already ruined, Drix. But I don’t think we’re making it worse, if that's what you mean. She’s got her own monsters to fight, just like all of us.”
He nodded, taking his coffee out onto the balcony, with me following along behind him. He stopped in the doorway, leaning in to kiss me gently, our coffee cups still clutched between our bodies. “Am I ruining you?”
Yes. Hendrick ruined me every single day.
I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. “No more than I want to be ruined.”
Chapter 23
Aviva
My headache was intense, and the bright sunshiny yellow of the Channel Tunnel was equally as searing. When I rolled out of bed, I had about thirty minutes to shower and dress while a maid packed my belongings and we were shipping off to Paris.
I’d woken up to find a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth on the pillow beside my face, and I flicked to the back to find the message on the rear page. Like Twenty Thousand Leagues, this book had Nemo’s annotations right through it, and I could understand why. It was exactly what I was doing, right? Following clues from a book that could lead me nowhere. Or somewhere. To the greatest discovery of my life or to a maelstrom that would drag me under forever.
To quest when others think you are crazy is the mark of a true visionary. Meet me at Librairie Jules Verne in Paris. You’re almost there. Don’t lose faith yet.
Everyone was quiet on the trip, Evan driving and Otto in the front seat beside him. I was squashed between Sampson and Hendrick in the back, their bodies pressed too close for rational thought.
They were definitely giving me the silent treatment. Sampson was answering emails, while Hendrick was answering DMs from pretty girls. One of those things burned worse than the other, that was for sure, but I buried it down.
Finally, Sampson put his phone down and turned toward me. “We need to talk about you running off yesterday.”
I stiffened, and Hendrick did too. “Sam…”
Sampson didn’t want to hear it though. “No, Drix. She worried us, because why? She didn’t like our methods? So fucking what—you don’t get to put yourself in danger just because you’re throwing a tantrum. What if you’d gotten lost? You left your purse in the car, with your phone and passport. What if you’d run in front of a car? How would anyone know where you were?”
He looked furious, but I was tired, hungover, and just as pissed. “I’m sorry, but fuck you too. You don’t get to make unilateral decisions about my life either.”
“What part of me buying a bookstore had anything to do with you? Or Hendrick getting a decent hotel? You are so self-obsessed that you think everything is about you, and I’m sorry, Aviva”—he dragged out my name like it was a curse—“we already have one narcissistic asshole in the group. That position is filled. Pick another.”
Hendri
ck flipped him the finger, and stared out the window.
“You don’t get to disregard my wishes either,” I said through gritted teeth. “Don’t buy me things was rule number fucking two. Actually, you guys haven’t followed any of my rules. Do rules just not apply to you?”
I could almost see his teeth grinding. “Oh, that would absolve you of all your responsibility, wouldn’t it, Good Girl? Well, we both know that's bullshit. You want to fuck me so bad it’s an ache. So not just me, is it? You’re the one not following your own goddamn rules.”
He slid his hand up my thigh and under my dress. I’d thrown it on because it was the only thing left unpacked, but now I had regrets, because his strong hand felt too damn good. He leaned close, his hand sliding up until his pinky finger brushed the crotch of my panties.
He leaned closer. “It’s got nothing to do with the money or the bookstore, or any of that shit. You hate that you want us. Hate that you’re the one thinking about me driving my fingers inside you right now, stroking you until you come.”
Someone up the front made a choked noise, and I drew my eyes from Sampson’s to look to the front seats. Both Evan and Otto looked tense, and when I slid my eyes to Hendrick, he was watching Sampson and I with an intense expression, filled with heat.
“Take what you want, Good Girl. Forget about what you think you need, or what you believe you deserve. Take what you fucking want, for once.”
I grabbed his wrist and dragged his hand where I wanted it, my breaths coming short and sharp. Sampson didn’t tease this time, his fingers slipping beneath my underwear to stroke along my folds. His finger flicked my clit, and I moaned. The driver’s side door opened and closed softly, and I watched Evan’s sandy blond hair disappear.
Inside the Maelstrom Page 13