“And if this contact fucks up or fails?”
Gill's face answers my question more thoroughly than words ever could.
Fuck.
He lifts his hands up and wraps his fingers around my upper arms, rubbing the fabric in slow circles with his thumbs. My heart's racing again, but not for the same reason as it did before. I'm scared now.
I'm terrified.
I knew robbing a jewelry store could—more than likely would—lead to trouble. But this?
“I could keep working jobs for Max. In fact, that's what the boss called me in for today: another job.” Gill swallows hard and shakes his head, taking a small step back, his boots loud on the kitchen floor. “But after last night …” Gill trails off and drops his hands to my hips. “After waking up next to you this morning, it didn't feel the same. It didn't feel right. I can do it, but I don't want to, not anymore.”
Gill leans over and presses his forehead to mine. Without realizing it, I drop the paper towels and watch as they roll across the floor and hit the fridge.
“One last job, and we can have that happy ending we always deserved.”
“But if something goes wrong, you die, am I right, Gill?”
No response, just the tightening of his fingers on my hips.
“One last job,” he says again. “One last job and it's all over.”
One big risk—or lots of small ones.
That's essentially what Gilleon's asking me: which one do we take? Because his fate—and in turn, my own—was sealed the moment that Karl's son threatened Gilleon's mom. I adjust my diamond earrings, my mother's pendant, run my hands down the front of my black flounce-hem dress. It's covered from chest to knees in white daisies, a decidedly cheerful ensemble choice for today. I picked it on purpose.
“Regi?”
Gill's standing behind me, just out of view of the mirror I'm gazing into. How he keeps managing to sneak up on me is anybody's guess—maybe my reflexes are just not up to speed—but I'm hoping and praying that I'll get better at it. That, or I'll eventually die from a stress induced heart attack.
Gilleon closes the door behind him and moves over to me as I turn around, smiling at my dress, my makeup, my heels. Cheerful blue Manolo Blahnik pumps, in keeping with the theme. The heels on these babies are a good four inches, putting me up at Gill's height. I like that, being able to look straight into his eyes. Something to keep in mind for shopping.
“How's that plan of yours coming along?” I ask, my pulse picking up speed. Just talking about the whole damn thing makes me crazy.
“Fuck that,” Gill says, pulling me to him, gazing at my lips. “I don't even want to talk about it.”
His mouth finds mine, his kiss warm and desperate, like he's trying to memorize the taste of me. I don't like that. If Gill's already stressing the possibility of failure when we haven't even decided for sure what we're going to do, that's a bad sign, right?
“Gilleon.” I push him back with a firm hand on his chest, trying not to ogle the tight muscles in his chest too much. He's all mine again, just like he was once, just like he always should've been. “Did something happen down there?”
I don't like the way Gill pauses, like he's weighing how to phrase things.
“If we want to try this, we have to go in tonight.”
The words are like a slap to the face.
I step back, but Gill doesn't let go of me, following a step forward so that we're toe to toe.
“You just told me about this idea this morning. We just worked things out between us last night. Gill, this doesn't work for me. You and Aveline, you talked about this whole thing like it was something you'd do in the future. A month from now, a few weeks, at the very least.” I'm already shaking my head and trying to extricate myself from Gill's arms.
The asshole only tightens his grip and drags me closer, his fingertips pressing tightly into my hips.
“I have to do this.”
“No.”
Gill furrows his brow as he finally lets go of me, watching as I step back and cross my arms over my chest.
“I'm sorry, but no. My mind is made up.” I glance away, catching a view of myself in the full length mirror. The clothes really do help—I look put-together, self-assured—and they hide the fact that my hands are already shaking.
“You knew there were risks—the same risks, worse ones—when you signed up before. You were willing to risk that, to risk everything, because you knew I needed help.” Gill takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through that raven dark hair of his. “This isn't any different, Regi.”
“You could die, Gill. That's a pretty big risk right here.”
He shrugs off the fear, the pain, the possibility and tries to put on a smile. I see right through it. This is risky, way riskier than robbing Karl was to begin with. But I guess this is an outcome of all that, isn't it? A consequence that Gilleon suspected might be coming. And yet he still jumped in.
For me.
Always for me.
I stop staring at his reflection and look back at him, at his face, at those bright eyes staring right into and through me. I already lost you once, Gill. Don't put me through that again.
“It's worth the risk, Regi, for us to be free.” He takes a deep breath and steps toward me again, close but not touching. “But if you say no, then I won't go. I'll work jobs for Max, and I'll try to figure out another way to get through this.”
“I'm saying no, Gill,” I tell him, keeping my arms crossed as he reaches up and brushes some hair behind my ear. “Tu n'y vas pas, un point c'est tout.” I let my eyes flicker shut for a moment and try to control my racing pulse. You're not going. It's that simple. “Stop trying to convince me.”
“If I don't go,” he says, pushing on with that steel-toed determination that's always been a part of who he is, “then Karl will keep sending people after me.” My mind flickers to that gruesome scene at the hotel. “And Max might decide I'm more trouble than I'm worth.” Gill licks his lips nervously. “Max won't sell me out to Karl, but maybe my associates will just … stop having my back. It'd be that easy to lose, Regina, and we're so close to winning.” Gill lowers his voice to a murmur. “So close.”
“Gilleon, stop,” I say, because for whatever reason my eyes are brimming with tears even though I've already told him no. Merde. This motherfucker is making me cry and we've officially been back together for a day.
I blink back the tears just as Gill lifts his thumb and brushes some liquid away with his fingertip.
“I know you're a badass and all, and you've probably taken way worse risks than this in the last ten years, but … it seems silly to wager it all now, doesn't it?”
Gill chuckles at my comment, but the sound holds this sense of finality to it. One way or another, this whole situation is coming to a head, isn't it? I reach up and touch my mother's pendant. At least I know for sure now: all of this, it was for more than just diamonds.
“I won't disagree with the badass comment,” Gill says with a small smile, “but I won't lie either. This would definitely be the biggest risk I've ever taken because this time, I've got you. And Regi, that's all I've ever wanted.”
I run my fingertip around the rim of my wineglass and watch the clock on the wall tick towards midnight. If I'd let Gilleon go, he'd have left already and I'd be wondering if he was dead or alive, not sitting across from him at the kitchen table with a glass of white wine in front of me.
His expression is shuttered, his mind focused inward, no doubt worried about Aveline. After I made myself clear that there was no way in hell I was agreeing to this, Gill told Aveline, and she left the house with fire burning in her eyes. What's on the line for her, I don't know. All I can do is make the best decisions for us—Gill, me, Cliff, Solène.
As I stare at the clock, I know I've made the right choice.
I drop my gaze and look across the table at Gill, waiting for him to emerge from his own thoughts as I sip my wine.
“What's Ave's story?�
� I ask, because this silence is killing me. I feel like I have to fill it.
Gill glances up, blinking to clear his mind, and smiles at me. I was worried that putting my foot down like this might push him away, but no, he's being true to his word, reaching over and laying his hand atop mine.
“She's been tangled up with Karl for as long—longer—than I have, fighting for something she doesn't like to talk about.” Gill lifts his own wine to his lips and takes a long drink. “She and I, we're in the same boat with Max. This heist was as much about her as it was me.”
“Did I fuck everything up tonight for her?” I ask, hoping to God that's not the case. I'd hate for my own happiness to come at the expense of somebody else's. Gill, bless his heart, gives me a tight smile and shakes his head. “You better not be lying to me,” I tell him, pointing a finger at that perfect, muscular chest of his.
“Another opportunity will come up,” Gill tells me with confidence. I wonder if that statement's as much for him as it is for me. “We'll figure this all out.”
I nod, but I'm not entirely convinced, lifting my drink to my lips and staring at the pale smudge of lipstick on the glass. I went with a nude lip today, some blue-gray shadow and bright highlights on the cheeks. It's a spring look, really, but I needed something to brighten up the dark winter day outside. Maybe some Christmas lights would help? And a tree? Now that I've made up my mind to stay, I need to make this place feel like home.
“Thank you,” I tell Gill, drawing his gaze back to mine. “For listening to me. Part of me was convinced that it didn't matter what I said, that you'd go anyway.”
“It's the least I could do,” he tells me, voice dropping, eyes half-lidded and focused on my face. When he scoots his chair forward and pulls mine out to face him, I feel a small smile creep over my mouth. “After everything I put you through, I definitely owe you.”
I raise a brow as Gill leans in and cups the back of my head, brushing a scorching kiss to my lips.
“Are you offering to make things up to me with your body? Because if so, I'm in.”
Gill's grin is bright enough to chase away the shadows of the past, to put a smile on my face and send my heart racing. Oh God, this was so worth it. I run my tongue over my lips and watch as Gilleon follows the motion with his eyes. I think I'm short a few self-talks today, so I throw some in for us for good measure. We're going to be so happy together. We're going to have a good life, a great one.
I'm about to give in and let Gill try really, really hard to make things up to me when he pauses, his entire body going stiff as he raises his head up and looks toward the front of the house. All I can hear is rain, rain, and more rain, but I'm not about to question my stepbrother's razor sharp instincts. It might just be our neighbor again, but it also might … I shake the thought away and sit quietly.
I don't speak, don't even move. Whatever it is that's piqued Gill's interest, I'll either hear about it after he decides there is no threat or …
“Go upstairs,” he tells me, his eyes darkening as our gazes meet. “Get Cliff and Solène, lock the door to her room and use the attic access to get upstairs. There's a padlock on the inside.” Gill rises to his feet, drawing his gaze away from me and towards the front door. “And take your phone,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Call Aveline, and if she doesn't answer, then call Ewan. I programmed his number into your phone.” Gilleon takes a big breath and blinks those dark blue eyes at me, the color more akin to a midnight sky than anything else right now. “If I don't come get you in ten minutes or less, call the police.”
I blink back at him in shock for a second before setting my wineglass down on the table. Like I did that time in the SUV, I follow his instructions, trusting that in this, at least, he knows what he's talking about.
Pistols still in place in his shoulder holster, Gill stands up and moves around me towards the front door, muscles tense and hard beneath the fabric of his shirt. He moves like a jungle cat, all grace and agility. I stand, too—much less agilely, I might add—turning to watch him for a second before I start up the back staircase.
Just a false alarm, I tell myself. That's all this is. Wishful thinking on my part, I'm sure, but I can't help but pray that I'm right.
As my fingers curl around the railing, I hear it: a knock at the door.
Crap.
I guess when you live in Gill's world, a knock at midnight is never a good sign.
I start up the stairs, pausing when I hear the front door open, Aveline's voice drifting to me along with a gust of cold air. If she'd sounded even the least bit normal, I'd have backtracked down the stairs and poured myself another glass of wine, started some water boiling on the stove and cooked up some pasta.
Nothing that normal's going to happen here tonight.
I retreat a few steps, just enough to glance around the corner.
My heart stops dead in my chest.
Holy. Shit.
I watch in disbelief as Gill slams and locks the door behind Aveline, his gaze narrowed in on her bloodied body as she leans heavy against the wall near the staircase, smearing a hazy red shadow across everything.
“You did it anyway, didn't you?” he asks, and my heart stutters back to life, pounding with a sudden rush of adrenaline. I know I should head up the stairs, grab my stepfather and my daughter and hide, but I can't stop watching as Aveline slides to the floor with a groan, her right hand curled around her waist, staunching the flow of blood. And oh my God, the blood. It's everywhere: in her hair, on her clothes, streaking down the wall behind her. There's so much of it that it's hard to make sense of the mess her face has become. Somebody really laid into Aveline tonight, took some teeth, left some bruises, turned her eyes into swollen lumps of blue-purple flesh.
When she doesn't answer Gill's question, groaning instead, blood spilling over her lower lip, he bends down and takes her by the shoulder. “How much time do we have before they get here?”
My stomach roils, and I clamp a hand over my mouth.
“Should I call an ambulance?” I mumble past my nausea, snapping Gill's attention back to me. His eyes are wide and the skin on his face is tight and strained.
“Upstairs,” he growls, his face twisting into a snarl—not at me but in fear for me. I try not to take offense. “Go, now, please.” It's that last word that gets me, spurring me up the stairs as fast as my heels can go.
I hit Cliff's door first, opening it quickly but not dramatically. There's no need to freak anybody out. For all I know, we might be safe tonight. Whatever happened, it could've ended with Aveline. This could just be Gill and his usual careful meticulousness, just him taking extra care with his family. Or not. It's that last part that really freaks me out.
“Papa.” I reach out and grab his shoulder, shaking him awake in an instant. Cliff's always been a light sleeper; he used to make it really hard for Gill and me to sneak into each other's rooms way back when. “I need you to get up and come with me.” I force a smile that I'm sure my stepfather can't see. “Gilleon's orders.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks as I move away and head towards Solène's room, opening the door with care. The last thing I want to do right now is scare the crap out of my daughter. I don't bother to answer Cliff as he shuffles in behind me, tucking a blue robe around his pjs as I lean down and swipe some dark hair from Solène's face.
“C'est l'heure de se réveiller, ma jolie petite fille,” I whisper, gesturing at Cliff to close the door behind him. Time to wake up, my pretty little daughter.
“Maman?” she asks on the tail end of a yawn, sitting up and shaking out a headful of disheveled curls. Her pink pajamas are covered in wrinkled ruffles and splattered with bows. Pretty sure she made them herself. “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” What's wrong?
I shake my head and shrug my shoulders, like this whole thing is no big deal. At least it's dark enough in here that the sweat beading on my forehead won't show. Shit.
“Everything's fine,” I say, standing up an
d taking a few steps back as I search the ceiling for the attic door. I can feel Cliff's gaze on me, as powerful and intense as his son's. “You know how they make you do fire drills in school?” I ask as I find the pull and reach up, curling my fingers around the string.
“Oui.” Solène yawns again. “But they're never in the middle of the night like this.” I yank hard and the catch comes loose, exposing a wooden ladder that I tug down to the floor, trying to be as quiet and gentle as possible. If there is something happening downstairs, I'd rather not alert whoever might be down there to our presence.
“Cliff, would you be so kind as to lock the door?” I stand up and move over to the French doors that lead out onto the balcony, checking to make sure they, too, are locked up tight. The windows are next.
“Maman?” Solène asks again, standing up and giving the ladder a wary look. Cool air drifts down from the open space, reminding me to grab a blanket and a stack of Solène's drawing books so she'll have something to do. I toss a pillow to Cliff, ignoring his pointed stare. He knows better than to push though; we both do.
“Come on, honey. Let's get upstairs and then we'll talk about it.” I keep smiling. Inside, I might be screaming. But just a little bit.
I help Solène up the rungs first and then gesture for Cliff to go next.
“Is Gilleon okay?” Cliff asks as I hand him my cell phone. I hope so, I think, and then my heart starts to flutter with panic. He better be. I still can't get the image of Aveline's bloody body and swollen face out of my head. Instead of answering Cliff's question, I swallow hard and repeat Gill's instructions—minus the Aveline part. Obviously, she's already here.
A chill trickles down my spine, cold as ice.
“Call Ewan. His number's in my contacts. And if Gill isn't up here in ten minutes or less, call the police.”
“You're not coming?” he asks, his graying brows raised in disbelief. With the moonlight streaming in through the window, his hair looks almost completely white. This is my fault. I should never have put them through this. I should've gone with Gill and left Cliff and Solène behind. Gill's right though, I suppose—love is selfish.
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