“We weren’t.”
“But what if you were? What if I got separated from the group? I don’t know Paris or any of your hangouts. How would I find you? How would you find me?”
“Okay… fair enough. We’ll come up with a couple of rendezvous points and have you memorize how to get to them.”
I’m not getting through. I decide to pull out the big guns. “What if they got me? God forbid, what if they kidnapped me and took me to Epicurus?”
Grant looks uneasy. “Don’t talk like that.”
“But what if?”
“They don’t want you, they want me. He’ll barter you to get to me.”
“Oh yeah? What if he just wants to fuck with you, and the only way to stop him from torturing me is – ”
Grant slams the table with his open palm. “I SAID don’t talk like that!” he shouts.
I’m shocked by his outburst, as are Dominique and JP. We all just sit there, staring at him with our mouths slightly open.
Grant gets a hold of himself quickly; he knows he overreacted. When he speaks, he does so in a calm, reasonable manner. “We’re not going down that road. There’s nothing to be gained from it.”
Pay no attention to the man freaking out behind the curtain! Just listen to the dulcet tones of the Wizard of Oz!
“Let me get this straight: there’s nothing to be gained from preparing?”
“Not for catastrophes! Not for ‘end of the world’ scenarios! We have limited time and resources, Eve – we can’t waste them on crazy back-up plans.”
“It’s not a crazy back-up plan! I told you, it’s super-easy, and – ”
“It also has some glaring weaknesses to it, so drop it.”
“What glaring weaknesses?”
“What if he hacks the devices? Then you’ve led him right to us.”
“I told you, that’s impossible!”
“If you know so much about what Epicurus can and can’t do, then why haven’t you found him yet? Why don’t you focus on us finding him, rather than on him finding us?”
“That’s a low blow,” I say coldly.
“No, that’s reality.”
“Okay – you want to find Epicurus?” Mentally I add the word ASSHOLE to the end of that sentence. “What if you’d shot one of the mercenaries back there with a GPS chip embedded in a bullet? We could have tracked them back to Epicurus and gotten the jump on him.”
“If he’s even in France,” Grant scoffs.
“Well, we’ll never know unless we try, will we? And even then, we might be able to get to the mercenaries and find some useful information. I could hack their location once we find out where they – ”
“This is a moot point,” Grant interrupts. “It’s useless to even talk about it.”
Ooooh, I want to slap his dismissive, arrogant ass so bad.
“And why is that?” I snarl.
“Because the first priority from this moment on is to get you out of the country and to safety.”
41
I stare at him for a second until I realize he’s completely serious.
“…what?!”
“You heard me. We’re getting you out of the country ASAP.”
“What about you?”
“I’m staying here to finish this.”
“What about them?” I ask, gesturing towards JP and Dominique.
“If they want their ten million, then they’re staying, too.”
“I think perhaps we should renegotiate that amount,” JP says, but shuts up when Grant glares at him.
I cross my arms stubbornly. “Well maybe I want my ten million. So maybe I’m staying, too.”
“No,” Grant says, cold as ice. “You’re not.”
“Guys… we need a minute alone,” I say to the others, though I never take my eyes off of Grant.
JP gets up slowly, his body language like This is suuuper awkward before he toddles off.
The only time I break eye contact with Grant is when Dominique leaves the room and throws me a smug look over her shoulder: Told you so.
I hate her for it, but it certainly seems that what she predicted has come true.
Grant is trying to get rid of me.
42
Once the others are gone, I angrily ask, “Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I trying to save your life? Oh, I don’t know,” he says sarcastically. “Maybe because I care about you?”
I care about you.
That’s a far cry from I love you.
“You cared about me when we jumped out of a skyscraper,” I say. “You cared about me when we jumped out of an airplane, too, but you didn’t try to ditch me five minutes later.”
“I tried to get you to bail when we spent the night in the brownstone, remember? And I was about to do the same before Epicurus’s guys broke into my penthouse, but you said – ”
“That I’m not a damsel in distress. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now, either. Nothing’s changed for me, so what the hell changed for you?”
“Maybe the realization is finally sinking in that this isn’t going to stop. He’s going to keep coming, and he’s always going to be one step ahead.”
“Not if we find him first!” I protest. “And you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening unless I’m with you!”
He gives me a look.
“Well, you don’t,” I insist.
Grant shakes his head. “I don’t care. I’m not going to sacrifice you.”
“‘Sacrifice’ me? Nobody’s asking you to ‘sacrifice’ me!”
“If he gets to you first, then I am sacrificing you!”
“Is this because of what I said about the GPS chips?” I ask, angry at myself for overplaying my hand earlier with the ‘torture’ scenario.
“No.”
“Look, I was just trying to scare you into doing what I wanted. Nothing’s going to happen as long as we stick together.”
“I told you, this has nothing to do with the GPS.”
“Well when did you suddenly get this brilliant idea of shipping me off, then?”
He hesitates. “When I had to jump out that apartment window, and send you off with JP, all I could think about was how I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
“Which is why I wanted the GPS – ”
“It’s not about the fucking GPS! It’s about something happening to you!”
“We talked about this before,” I say. “I’m already in it up to my neck; he’s going to come after me no matter what.”
“Not if we get you to safety.”
“Wake up, Grant! There is nowhere safe from this guy!”
“If I die, he has no reason to come after you.”
If I die. The words cut me like a knife, and my breath hitches the tiniest bit. “Yes he does – because he knows that if he kills you, I’m going to make it my mission in life to find out who he is and make damn sure he pays.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“I forbid it.”
“Good luck with that if you’re dead!” I yell.
Ugh – this is horrible. Why are we doing this? Why?
Grant’s expression sets into stubborn, immovable stone. “I’ll get JP to contact one of his smuggler friends. They’ll take you out of France and get you to another country. You lay low until – ”
“I’m not leaving you, Grant! Quit talking like I will!”
He is quiet for a second. Then he asks, “Is this about the money?”
I couldn’t be more shocked if he had slapped me across the face.
“Because if it’s about the money,” he continues, “I’ll pay you – whatever you want.”
There’s a line Frank Sinatra used to say: you don’t pay a prostitute for sex. You pay her to leave afterwards.
“You fucking asshole,” I whisper. I can’t tell if I’m more hurt or angry. Although it’s not so much ‘hurt’ and ‘angry’ as it is ‘in agony’ and ‘enraged.’
“Look – ”
>
“No, you fucking look,” I say, both furious and on the verge of tears. “I’m not leaving, because unlike you, I don’t just ‘care’ for you. I’m in love with you. And I’m not going to leave you here, facing down a serial killer, when I’m the best fucking shot you have at getting out alive. Got it?”
I storm out of the room. He tries to follow me, but I slam the door in his face. After that I find the women’s bathroom and I lock the door and cry.
43
While I’m in the bathroom, I think about a lot of things. About how I was stupid to take this fucking job. About how I’m so stupid for falling in love. About how I’m stupid to try to stay with a man who obviously doesn’t want me here, and who doesn’t love me back.
I should have known this was doomed from the very start. After all, the first thing Grant did after having sex with me at the Dubai was leave.
Yeah, yeah, I know he had his reasons. He was trying to goad me into hacking him so he could see what I was made of. And it was more playful than malicious.
But when a guy does something like that to you, even once, that’s not something you forget. The fear lingers, no matter how you try to rationalize it and justify it away. You’re afraid he’d do it all over again.
Which he kind of is.
Men: the root of all my fucking problems. Billionaires and serial killers alike.
Grant…
Epicurus…
JP…
Okay, JP’s not the root of any of my problems, he’s just a slimy, chauvinistic bastard.
…Mailin…
Oh shit.
I haven’t told the others about Mailin yet.
I know that the message is probably legit, and almost certainly harmless, but they won’t see it that way.
If Grant is planning to ship me out, maybe it’s best they never know.
I decide to keep it under my hat for the time being.
I dry my eyes and do my best to make it look like I haven’t been crying, but all I look like is a woman who’s been crying and is trying to cover it up.
When I get back to the room, Grant and JP are talking about smugglers. Dominique is sitting with her feet propped up on the table, insouciant and insufferable.
Grant looks around as I come back in. There’s something in his eyes – maybe a flash of suffering to see me in such pain? – but he moves right past it and gets back down to business.
“There’s a guy JP and Marcel know who can get you out of Paris on a boat,” Grant says. “He’s a smuggler, but his front is he runs this tourist attraction thing where he ferries people around the Seine River. He can get you to the coast without anybody suspecting.”
“Why can you not use an automobile?” Dominique asks, bored.
“Traffic cameras,” Grant says.
“Put her in the trunk,” Dominique suggests with a cruel smile.
“If Epicurus’s guys attack on the road, there’s not much room to maneuver. Out on a river, there’s escape routes every which way you look.”
“I’m not doing that,” I say.
“Look, the boat is the best option we’ve got – ”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Yes you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
Grant folds his arms across his chest. “Well, I’m not taking you with me.”
“So, what, you’re going to leave me behind for Epicurus? You’re going to doom me to the one thing you supposedly want to save me from?”
Grant narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘supposedly’?”
I glance at Dominique. The smug bitch looks like she’s already won.
If I leave, she has every opportunity to get her claws back in Grant.
No wonder she looks victorious.
I want to call her on it, but I know how it will turn out: Grant yapping about I can’t believe you want to risk all our lives just because you’re jealous, yadda yadda yadda.
So I avoid the topic altogether. “I’m not leaving France. That’s final.”
Grant scoffs. “Well, do you have another option?”
I grit my teeth. I’m not going to run after them like an unwanted puppy dog, a burden they’re all trying to unload. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to watch Dominique rub her crotch up against Grant until he finally gives in and throws me over for her. My dignity is worth more than that. I might as well just call Mailin and turn myself in to the FBI if I’m going to –
I stop.
Holy shit.
“Actually… yeah,” I say, slightly stunned. “I do have another option.”
And then I proceed to tell them about the message from Mailin.
44
Grant is predictably furious.
“What the FUCK?! Why didn’t you TELL me?!”
“Uh, hello?! We were kind of busy getting shot at and separating into two groups and running through catacombs and shit!”
“You didn’t tell us when we came in here!”
“I forgot until just now when I was in the bathroom!”
He looks like he’s about to start pulling his hair out. “How could you forget about something like that?!”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was overjoyed to find out the man I’m in love with isn’t dead?!”
Grant doesn’t have a comeback for that one. He just stands there clenching his jaw.
JP hunches over in his chair and puts his hands over his eyes like, Ten million dollars is SO not worth this.
Dominique looks wary, like she’s watching and waiting to see if this new development is a danger to her plans.
“Look,” I say with a sigh, “all I want to do is contact Mailin and find out what he knows. Maybe he can give us some information.”
“Or maybe your little high school buddy led Epicurus to our doorstep this morning. Did you ever stop and think of that?”
“Yes, I did. And I find it highly unlikely.”
“And why is that?”
“I could explain data chaining and IP gateways to you, but you’re the guy who thinks a GPS transmitter can be magically hacked by waving a wand and saying Expecto Patronum, so I’d kind of be wasting my time.”
I’m pissing him off now, I can tell.
Good.
“What if he’s Epicurus?” Grant asks angrily.
I roll my eyes. “If one person in the world is not Epicurus, it’s Mailin.”
“This could be Epicurus posing as Mailin.”
“Which is why, when I contact him – in an incredibly safe and protected manner, so I can’t be tracked,” I say in the tone of voice I would use to reassure a five-year-old, “I’m going to verify who he is.”
“That could just be part of his plan!”
“Give me a break. Paid mercenaries crashed through our front door two hours ago. Why the hell would Epicurus be leaving vague-ass notes for me online? The one thing he isn’t is subtle.”
“Okay – say it is Mailin. You want to turn yourself over to the FBI?”
“NO, I’m not going to be turning myself over to the FBI.”
“What if they find you? What if they arrest you and extradite you? You’d rather take that chance than go to another country and be free?” Grant asks, bewildered.
“Free to do what? Sit in a windowless room somewhere, hope Epicurus doesn’t track me down, and wait for you to do something you’re never going to be able to do without my help?”
“I just want you to be safe.”
“Well, if that’s all you care about, I’ll be safer with Mailin and the FBI than whatever criminal mastermind with a tourist boat you want to set me up with!”
“Hey,” JP interjects. “It is a good business.”
“What do you care, anyway?” I ask Grant. “You just want to get rid of me! Who cares how you do it?”
“I don’t want to get rid of you!” Grant roars. “I just want you to be safe! And I sure as hell don’t want you to go to prison for twenty years!”
“You might’ve told m
e you were a fucking art thief, then, before you put my life in danger,” I sneer.
He wants to say something so badly, but there’s not really a comeback to that one.
He could try, I couldn’t tell you at the time.
Then I would say, Sure you could have. You just didn’t want to take the chance of me ratting on you and you going to jail.
And then I see the opening.
Just like he hurt me earlier, I decide to hurt him back.
“Is it that you don’t want me to go to prison, or that you don’t want me to testify against you?” I ask quietly. “Is it my skin you’re worried about, or your own?”
He looks hurt, and betrayed, and enraged all at once.
I immediately feel ashamed for saying it.
But, shockingly, it has the desired effect.
“Fine,” he says, his voice cold. “Contact your little FBI friend. Go back to America and tell them whatever you want. I don’t give a damn what you do.”
Then he’s the one who walks out of the room.
45
So.
I just alienated the man I’m in love with. I suggested he’s an unprincipled crook who only cares about himself. And I did it all out of petty revenge.
I’m officially miserable… but I’ve got shit to do.
As I make my preparations to contact Mailin, JP watches me nervously. “This is perhaps a very bad idea, no?”
“It’ll be fine,” I say dismissively as I make the necessary adjustments to the proxies.
“How do you know he will be who he says he will be?”
“Well, for starters, there’s only one place he could be talking about in his message. If he’s there, it’s Mailin. Two, I’m going to do something. If he responds the right way, it can only be Mailin.”
“…and?”
“And that’s it. Yes or no. He’s not going to be a pod person.”
“…pod person?”
“You know – Invasion of the Body Snatchers?”
It’s apparent JP doesn’t know.
“A doppelganger,” I say. “A bad guy with Mailin’s face. Look, he’s either Mailin or he’s not, and he’s either on my side or he’s not. It’s black and white. No in-between.”
The Billionaire's Redemption (The Billionaire's Kiss, Book Five): (A Billionaire Alpha Romance) Page 12