Paris (The Adlers Book 4)

by Avery Gale

  Resting his high-power binoculars on the rail of the luxury yacht, David shook his head. He needed to be careful. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake. Hell, his mother was already going thermonuclear, any other smear on her reputation would likely send her into orbit or worse. The good Senator was a ruthless bitch when crossed. David usually did everything he could to stay just inside her peripheral view. He’d learned years ago—distance was his friend when dealing with his mother.

  Unfortunately, his arrest for the Paris incident, as his mother referred to it, landed him front and center on not only her radar but the media’s as well. So far, his mother’s public relations team had done a great job keeping a lid on it, but that wouldn’t last forever. The only thing that kept him from having to deal with the Adlers was the redaction of Paris’ name from the press release. David wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was anything more than a temporary reprieve. The addition of Luke Grayson to the Adler family was a real pain in David’s ass. So far, he’d managed to stay one step ahead of the famed computer expert, but the bastard would get lucky at some point and stumble on the information.

  Heading back inside the yacht’s luxurious cabin, David grabbed one of the gourmet submarine sandwiches the onboard chef had left in the refrigerator for their late night snacking, tucked a couple of bottles of beer in the pockets of his board shorts, and headed to the rooftop deck with his iPad. It hadn’t taken him long to find pictures of the small island’s new resort, but photos of the club were nowhere to be found. Fucking unbelievable there hadn’t been a security breach in all the years the club had been in operation.

  Hell, even the satellite images of the island weren’t much help. He’d magnified the damned images into oblivion, but the aerial view was so shrouded by landscaping, you could only catch fleeting glimpses of the walking paths connecting the McGregor’s home, resort, and club. Ian McGregor might be a secretive bastard, but he was no fool.

  If the rumors were true, the club was built in a natural cave. Since the interior would still be vulnerable to fire, he knew there were multiple exits. David’s goal was to find the main service entrance—it would have the most traffic, making it easier for him to blend in. Studying the SAT images, he finally zeroed in on what looked like a dock on the Atlantic side. After several minutes spent enlarging and enhancing the picture, he was able to make out a dolly cart and what appeared to be a golf cart on steroids. Bingo!

  “He has to be the dumbest fucker on the planet.” Jace watched the aerial footage from the drone circling the yacht anchored offshore. The Coast Guard had confirmed the well-appointed vessel was a rental, and a quick call to the owner revealed the man who’d signed the contract used a fake name. Jace’s team spoke with the agency’s front desk clerk, who’d identified David Lamb as one of the occupants.

  “I know the drone is high, and it’s virtually silent, but damn, don’t people ever look up?”

  “Not usually. Why do you think Spiderman could hide by clinging to the ceiling?” Abby’s voice sounded from beside him, and Jace turned to his sister, shaking his head.

  “Spiderman? Really, Tink? I thought you outgrew that movie after the seven hundred and thirty-second viewing.” After one particularly torturous leave spent at home, Jace had told his parents he wasn’t coming back again until they’d burned her recording of that damned movie. He’d seen it so many times, he’d was able to recite the dialogue, word for fucking word.

  His mom and dads hadn’t been terribly sympathetic since they were stuck watching it whenever he and his buddies were away, but they’d promised to get rid of the tape before his next break, and they had. She’d exacted her revenge by recording some damned show with a purple dinosaur named Barney over all the porn tapes he hadn’t hidden well enough. Damn, she’d been a pain in his ass and was still the best gift his parents had ever given him. He’d fallen in love with the red-faced, squalling bundle the minute they’d walked through the door with her.

  “Where are your, men? I thought you were playing tonight, that’s why I’m working outside security.” That and the fact the pride of the Participation Trophy Generation was anchored off the coast, researching how to make his way ashore. Jace had seen the results of spoiled brats his entire life, but this joker was ranking at the top of the heap. When Abby sagged into a chair, heaving a huge sigh, Jace studied her with a critical eye. She looked tired, and that was out of character—the complete antithesis of the young woman who was usually a fucking Energizer bunny.

  “They were tag-teaming with security for Paris. Believe it or not, there was a hiccup in the great and powerful Ian’s plan, so I begged off and promised I’d find you.”

  So, her men had been willing to let her leave but wanted her in his care. Interesting. His wife, Holly, had tried to convince him a few weeks ago he was going to be an uncle, but he’d blown off her observation as wishful thinking. His woman was more than ready to be an aunt, and since she was an only child, Abby was her only hope.

  “What’s up, Tink? Talk to me, sweetheart.” Her eyes filled with tears, and he barely had time to open his arms before she launched herself out of her chair and into his waiting embrace, clinging to him like a damned spider monkey. Jace was so stunned, it took him a few seconds to figure out his little sister was drowning in a hormonal soup. Hell, Holly cried when watching commercials on television while she was pregnant. He’d finally banned all television and social media, but it had been wasted effort because she’d started reading romance novels and promptly gone right back over the edge.

  “I’m going to be the worst mother in the history of mothers. And Mama is going to be so mad.” Mad? Is she kidding? Their parents were going to be over the moon.

  “Why on earth would she be angry, Tink? Hell, she’s been pestering you three since the day of your wedding for this news.” Jace was baffled. It was out of character for his sister to be wrong about anything, but she was certainly off the mark this time.

  “I’m five months along. We didn’t want to tell anyone because I’ve had two miscarriages. I didn’t want to get anybody’s hopes up.”

  “And now you think you’ve waited too long? That Mom and the Dads will be angry because they didn’t know sooner?” He felt her stiffen in his arms and knew she’d heard how absurd it sounded. “Sometimes, you need to say things out loud, Tink. When you bounce a worry off someone else, and it comes back sounding crazy, you have a choice. You can continue worrying needlessly, or you can accept it’s not reasonable and move on.”

  Abby hiccupped as he set her gently on her feet. Jace knew she hadn’t seen Logan and Kalen come into the room, and he was grateful they were giving him a chance to, once again, be the big brother she’d always come to with her heartaches. He didn’t get the opportunity to fill that role very often these days.

  “It doesn’t sound right when you say it, but in my head, it was a big deal. I don’t understand what’s happening, it’s like my brain keeps short-circuiting. The book says it’s called… Cra… fish, I can’t ever remember what they called not being able to remember anything. Where’s Holly? She’ll remember. Holy rickrack. What if I forget where I left the baby after she’s born?”

  She? I’m getting a niece?

  Abby was a genius by anyone’s measure, but he’d learned a long time ago, intelligence couldn’t always make its way to the surface when a woman was drowning in pregnancy hormones. He’d seen it with Callie and Holly. Adding to the mix was the strain of keeping a secret he knew she had to be dying to share, and it was a recipe for a meltdown of Biblical proportions.

  “Abby, call Mom. She’s going to be over the moon, I promise. Of course, the Dads are going to send the company jet for you, but you look like you could use some mothering. And just for the record—you’re going to be an amazing mother. Hell, you’re the best aunt in the world, and you’ve got two amazing husbands to help.” Smoothing her hair back from her face, Jace grinned when she sighed. Pressing a kiss against her forehead, he assured her, “You�
�re going to be fine, and I promise to smuggle root beer into the hospital for you.” Her smile lit up the room. He’d always smuggled root beer to her when she’d been sick. His mention of it now filled her eyes with unshed tears, but they were happy tears, and those didn’t shred his heart.

  Abby needed to call their parents as soon as possible—not because they needed to hear the news, but because she wasn’t going to be able to relax and enjoy the experience until she’d shared the news.

  Damn, I’m going to be an uncle! And my wife is never going to let me forget she was right.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Paris wasn’t sure where Abby had gone, and now, both Kalen and Logan were missing as well. She’d been told Abby’s brother, Jace, was working outer security because he didn’t want to be in the club while his younger sister was inside. Since Abby had seemed to have vanished into thin air, Paris wondered if she’d get to finally meet the infamous Jace Garrett.

  “Doubtful, Beautiful. Gage and Holly are in their private lair here at the club. I’m sure Jace is anxious to join them.” She respected Jace’s decision to not be in the club when his sister was there, Paris didn’t have any desire to watch any of her siblings play in a club either. Gross! “I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, sweetness, but I’ll draw the line at doing scenes in front of your family.”

  Holy hairballs… she didn’t even want to think about having sex in front of her family. Disgusting. She felt Trinity shaking with laughter beside her, but decided it wasn’t worth the argument to tell him all the reasons she thought he was an ass. She realized her mistake as soon as the thought floated through her mind, but it was too late.

  “You don’t have to tell me, baby. I already know what you’re thinking. Damn, this is about the handiest gift the Great Goddess has ever given me.”

  Paris had no response, she was too stunned to respond. Did he mean his ability to hear her thoughts was the gift—or was she the gift? When she heard his exasperated sigh, she realized her mind had drifted once again.

  “Your mind is a complicated maze I’d never be able to navigate without the extra help. I have no idea how men make relationships work without this advantage.”

  She didn’t miss the note of amusement in his tone. Don’t worry, Sprite. I suspect our telepathic link is already building. Soon you’ll be able to hear me, and your connection to the others in our pack will follow. Paris was stunned. Completely blindsided by what had just occurred. Spinning around to face him, she realized too late how close they were and tumbled backward when she tried to meet his gaze.

  Paris felt herself falling, her arms flailing wildly in mid-air. Trying to reach for Trinity’s outstretched hand, she inadvertently arched her back which sent the back of her skull on a collision course with the stone floor. An explosion of pain made her stomach roll a split second before she descended into darkness.

  Trinity tried desperately to get his hands on Paris as her arms pinwheeled wildly in front of her. By the time she locked her gaze on his outstretched hand, she was too close to the floor. Arching in a desperate attempt to grasp his hand sent the back of her head crashing against the floor. If he lived another century, Trinity knew he’d never forget the sound or the overwhelming helplessness he’d felt at that moment.

  Teetering between the place where his training as a cop and first responder would ordinarily kick in and pure panic as Paris’ mate, Trinity felt frozen in mid-animation for an eternity. Truthfully, it could have only been fractions of a second, but when time stands still, it’s damned hard to judge.

  Members and staff immediately surrounded them, including Jace Garrett, who seemed to appear from thin air, radio in hand, barking orders. In the cacophony of sound, the only word Trinity caught was chopper. Ian and Callie made their way to his side, Ian gathering information from those gathered around, those who’d seen Paris fall provided as much detail as they could.

  Callie laced her warm fingers with his much cooler ones, the small gesture of friendship and support, sending a flood of warmth through him. Trinity smiled down at the owner’s lovely wife and nodded. Damn, he owed her. With a simple show of unconditional support, she’d pulled his head out of his ass.

  “Thank you, Callie. I’m okay now.” Taking a deep breath, Trinity pushed his training to the forefront as the club’s medics began covering the gash on the back of Paris’ head and strapped her to a backboard.

  Trinity helped carry her out to the waiting helicopter, uncertain where they were headed but confident Ian and Jace were making sure his sweet mate was going to get the best care available. Behind them, he heard Catalina yelling at someone to let her go as Cooper Hick’s deep voice calmly explained why he wouldn’t allow her to jeopardize her sister’s safety by delaying medical treatment. As reasonable as Cooper’s explanation was, the words were falling on deaf ears.

  We’ll be right behind you. Ian has people waiting on the roof of George Washington. Israel’s voice moved through his mind with such fluid ease, Trinity was startled—though he shouldn’t have been. When they were in their wolf form, telepathic communication often made the difference between life and death, so it was an evolutionary skill, finely honed over several millennia.

  I’ll leave everything but Paris to you. She is my sole focus. Trinity would let Israel and Catalina contact the rest of their family, although he’d bet his last nickel Luke Grayson was already on it. When he’d first joined Club Isola, Trinity had been impressed with Ian McGregor’s extensive network of resources, but he’d never been as grateful for the man’s tireless dedication to the safety of his members until this moment. Knowing he kept a medi-vac helicopter and medical staff on site could easily make the difference between life and death in the event of a traumatic injury.

  The flight only lasted a few short minutes—a fraction of the time it would have taken if they’ been forced to take the ferry and drive to the hospital. Paris had begun stirring as the chopper lifted off and was fully awake, though visibly confused by the time they landed. He’d held her hand during the flight, and the only time she offered any resistance to being transported was when he’d been forced to release his hold during the unloading process.

  “No. Don’t leave me. Why is it so dark here?” Dark? Hell, the rooftop was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

  “I’m not leaving you, baby.” In seconds, he had her hand back in his, and they were sprinting to where several men and women in white lab coats stood waiting. After a flurry of questions and answers, they moved inside. The next two hours were filled with so many tests, Trinity finally started making a list, just to keep track. The waiting room was full to the point of bursting, and he was grateful Israel was handling everything not related directly to his mate’s care.

  Trinity wasn’t sure what story Ian had given the staff, but no one questioned his relationship with Paris or his right to make decisions about her care. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by the man’s influence or concerned it was so effective. Thank Goddess, the cut on the back of Paris’ scalp was small enough, it only required a few stitches, and they hadn’t cut her hair. Hell, the only time he’d seen Paris cry during the whole ordeal was when one of the nurses announced they’d be shaving a six-inch diameter circle at the back of her head as she set out scissors and a razor. Paris had burst into tears, and it had taken every ounce of control Trinity possessed to keep from ripping the woman, limb from limb.

  The doctor had walked in, quickly assessing the situation, shaken his head in disgust, and pushed the tray aside. He’d given Paris a gentle smile and assured her he had no need to even trim her pretty, long locks.

  Trinity recognized the nurse as a sub who’d attended a club as a visitor a few times, but he’d never seen her there on her own, so she either couldn’t swing the expensive membership fee or hadn’t made it through Ian’s rigorous screening. Judging by the way she’d intentionally upset Paris, Trinity was betting on the latter. He made a mental note to mention her behavior to Ian. Your lack of compassio
n won’t go unpunished little sub. Ian would see to it she never set foot in his club again. The woman’s behavior had been unacceptable on multiple levels.

  The neurological team asked to meet with Trinity, Israel, and Catalina. When he asked who she wanted to sit with her, Paris surprised him by asking for Lilly West. Kent and Kyle had chuckled when he asked if she would mind. Lilly shot them a searing glare.

  “Every girl wants a mama when she’s feeling punk. You two are clueless.” Lifting her chin in the air like the supermodel she’d once been, Lilly West strode down the hall to Paris’ room as everyone in the room stared in awe.

  “You two never learn, do you?” Dean West shook his head, looking on as his sons mirrored baffled expressions.

  “They never did understand their mama. You boys would do well to figure this out because your children spend a lot of time with their Grammy. Don’t think for a minute she isn’t having an impact. If you can’t handle our sweet wife, your daughter is going to hand your ass to you on a silver platter.” The room erupted into laughter, and Trinity felt like he’d just taken his first deep breath in several hours.

  Listening to the doctors describe the symptoms and treatments of a closed brain injury left him reeling. He’d noticed Paris had asked the same question several times, but he’d been pulled out to sign papers so often, Trinity hadn’t realized how severe her concussion was.

  “What about her eyesight? She mentioned how dim the lights seemed when we landed, and the entire roof looked like it was high noon.”

  “It isn’t uncommon. Paris hit the back of her head, specifically the occipital lobe, the part of the brain responsible for processing visual information. We’re monitoring the swelling, but she’s already responding to treatment, so I don’t expect any long-term problems. It’s important she does not drive for a few weeks, and it might be several months before she is comfortable driving at night. Ideally, she’d recover somewhere she could use golf carts to get around. Perhaps a nice resort?”