by Scott, S. L.
“When these doors open, Lars will go first, and we’ll follow,” Bennett says, “There will be a car—”
“No, they need it. They have to get to a hospital.”
He glances at the numbers as they light up above Lars’s head. “I need you safe.” His phone vibrates, and he starts typing again.
The elevator stops, and the doors open on the second floor. Lars is a wall of a man with a woman in his arms staring down at an elderly couple. The man shrinks under the stare. The woman on his arm grabs the fur at her neck, and her mouth falls open. Lars’s deep voice vibrates against the elevator. “We’ll send it back up.”
Bennett hits the button to close the doors, leaving the stunned couple behind. Then he continues like we never stopped at all. “You’re going to walk out the front door like nothing is wrong. We can’t put other lives at risk.”
“Why didn’t we take the stairs?”
“Because they did.”
“They . . .”
“Kurt and his men,” Lars says. “Showtime.”
The doors slide open, and Bennett’s hand covers my lower back. We start walking, pretending we weren’t just in a gunfight or have a bleeding woman in desperate need of a doctor. “Black SUV at the curb,” he says under his breath as we pass through the people in the lobby.
I look down at the cold, checkered marble floors when I see a couple’s eyes go wide. “I lost my shoe, and there’s blood all over my skirt.”
“No one cares about us. Keep walking.”
Lars and Chelsea are in front of us, but once we reach the doors, he stops to wait. He’s still trying to cover us when he should only worry about Chelsea. “Take the car. Go,” I say, pushing his back as we exit onto the sidewalk.
“Winter!” My name bleeds off the sharp-edged blade of Bennett’s tongue.
“No. They need to go. We’ll be fine.”
Bennett eyes me and then glances to them. Seeming to go against his better judgment, he shakes his head. “Take it, Lars.”
“Go inside until the next car arrives,” Lars replies. He runs for the car and climbs in the back with Chelsea.
I catch her gaze one last time. She raises her hand up, so I raise mine. The door closes, and the car pulls away.
Paris is cold in November, reminding me of what I’m wearing, or the lack of. As the chill sets in, sirens sound around us, bouncing off the walls just as two policemen race toward the hotel. “Shit,” Bennett says, and then grabs me and pulls me into a kiss.
Safe.
Deep.
Passionate.
Real. So raw, reflecting how I feel for him.
True and honest.
Full of promise and a future.
Our lips part the moment the shot rings out. My silent scream swallowed by Bennett as I look at him, praying this isn’t the last kiss I ever get from him.
The snap of another bullet punctures the air, and he curls his body around me, shielding me as we fall. Protecting my head from hitting the ground, his hands slip into my hair
The sound of tires ram the curb and the back door to an SUV swings open. A man jumps out of the front seat with a gun, covering us, and Ethan yells from the back, “Get in.”
We’re up on our feet in seconds, and I climb in with Bennett hot on my heels. The door closes, and the vehicle takes off to the sound of metal ricocheting off the SUV. Barricaded in Bennett’s arms, I don’t move, and I don’t look away from the only person who makes this life worth fighting for.
“Breathe, Winter.” Bennett’s steady hand touches my trembling body, my shoulders quake to the fear inside.
What we just survived begins to sink in while the walls of the SUV start closing in. In a succession of quick exhales, I try to regulate my breathing to match his calming eyes. When my breathing stabilizes, the words come tumbling off my tongue. “Are we safe?”
“We’re safe.”
I finally breathe with ease, and then say what I wish I could have back there, “I love you, too.”
He leans in and rests his forehead against mine. “You love me, sweetheart?”
“I do.” I wrap my arms around him, wanting to breathe in his entire being so our souls will forever share the same universe. “I love you.”
I wish things were different. I wish I had never dragged him into my mess to clean up. I wish so much that I’m not sure I’ll survive this regret, or that we will. When this is all over, how will he look at me? Will he still care? I can ask a billion questions, but deep in my heart, I know the answers. I see them written in his eyes. Yes. We will survive this together.
Kissing me quick, he says, “I love you, too.”
“Hey, that’s great and all,” Ethan says, leaning forward and looking at us. “I’m all for love, but there’s a psychopath loose in Paris who needs to be found—”
“We need to get Winter to the hospital,” Bennett says.
“What?” I ask, confused. “Why?” And then I look down at my forearm.
Taking hold of my wrist with one hand and my elbow with the other, he examines it. “Fuck, Winter, are you okay?”
I was cold, but figured that was the adrenaline rush subsiding. It’s not a long gash, but it might be deep. “Will I need stitches?” I ask, feeling a little woozy.
“Maybe,” Ethan answers. “We need it checked, and then we’re out of there. I’ve set up extra security.”
“I promised to help Chelsea, Ethan, I need to be there.”
He says, “It’s dangerous, Winter. The longer we stay, the bigger the risk.”
Bennett groans. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because she has no one else. I know you’re worried, but Ethan said there would be security. I’ll be fine,” I say, touching Bennett’s arm. “They’ll check my wound and then we’ll see to Chelsea, okay?”
“No. It’s not okay. You were hurt. Again. I’m still trying to deal with that. I’m fucking furious that fucker took you. I can’t lose you, Winter.”
Cradling his face, that strong, scruff covered jaw, in my hands, I kiss him. “I’ll listen this time. I promise.”
His brother says, “Ben, we’ll have eyes on her every minute.”
“Yeah, I know. I know,” Bennett moans. “Extra fucking security. Got it.”
“Okay,” Ethan says to me, “you need to do exactly what we say. We don’t know what we’re walking into, but as I said before, we have bulked up security.”
I sit back knowing I’m not telling the truth about being fine. My heart is still beating overtime as I think about what happened. My arm is throbbing, but I’m so thankful to be alive and in Bennett’s arms once again.
35
Bennett
Eight hours at the hospital waiting for more information has worn us down. Hearing Chelsea was in recovery after surgery was good news, but the silence since has been deafening.
Winter paces the private lounge in a pair of slip-on shoes a nurse offered her. The cut on her arm wasn’t very deep after all, so they’ve stitched and bandaged it and told her it should be fine, but there might be a scar. We’ve each napped at some point or another, but she’s back on her feet, trying to run a path into the tiles.
Ethan’s been speaking with the police just inside the door, and I’m stuck staring at the stained grout, hunched over in a chair next to Lars.
He laughs lightly to himself, making me look over. With nothing obvious entertaining him, I ask, “What?”
“She asked me how she looked in the car because if she was going to die, she wanted to look her best when she shows up at the pearly gates.”
That makes me sit up. “Chelsea? What did you say?” I’m not going to rush to judgment, but I think we need to take things slow. She was with Kurt, after all. But Lars must see the same thing that made Winter want to help her.
Lars is calm, wearing a slight smile that’s rarely there. He looks over at me, and adds, “I told her she looked too good to die. When she asked what she had to live for, I said when we get back to
Manhattan, I’m taking her out on a date.”
Surprised, I reply, “Um. Wait a minute. Let’s back up here. You asked a woman out although she might have died in your arms?”
“She wasn’t going to die. I wasn’t going to let her.” He shrugs. “Anyway, she’s pretty.”
“I’m not sure what to say. You either have the worst intuition about women or the best game I’ve ever seen.”
“Game,” he says with a smug nod.
The door opens, and the doctor who performed the surgery enters the room. As if told to, we all stand at the same time. He looks around, not sure who to speak to, so I volunteer for the job. “How is she?”
His French accent is thick, but his English is great. “She did well. We’ve been monitoring her closely for the past few hours. She’s stable, so we’re moving her out of ICU to a room. Monsieur Everest requested a private room, and one has been secured.”
“What about her injuries?” I ask.
Touching his chest close to his shoulder, he explains, “No major organs were afflicted. The bullet was lodged into the muscle, and she lost a lot of blood. She’s very lucky. One inch lower would have done damage she might not have survived.”
“When will she be moved?”
“She’s already being moved.”
Winter asks, “Can I see her?” She joins my side.
“It’s fine for you to wait with her. We only ask that you let her rest,” he says.
“I will. Merci,” Winter replies and looks up at me, the first signs of joy returning.
I hold her to me and kiss her head. “She owes her life to you.”
Looking back at Lars, she smiles. “She owes it to him. I owe mine to you.” Her arms come around me, and I take the embrace, needing it more than I would have thought. “We’ve been through a lot for practically being strangers,” I tease.
“Strangers,” she repeats, laughing. But then she rests her chin on my chest, and her smile is prettier than any sunset I’ve ever seen on Lake Austin. And those are some damn gorgeous sunsets. “I love you.”
“I love you so much.”
Running my hands down her back, I take a second to look at her before she leaves. “Those words have never been easy for me to say, but this time, it’s different. It’s the first time I feel them, and I feel them fully for you. So they come easier. I joke about us being strangers because we haven’t known each other long, but I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt for anyone else before.”
“I feel it too, Bennett. I feel full of happiness that made me feel guilty when we met. You know what? I don’t feel guilty for loving you. And if we hadn’t been set up, I truly believe we still would have found our way to each other.”
“We were always meant to meet, baby.”
“I like being your baby, your sweetheart, your ma chérie.”
“I like being yours.” I lose myself momentarily while kissing her. Then the lights come back, and the sound of others return to full volume. Our lips part, but our hearts stay entwined.
Lars places a hand on my shoulder. “They said Winter can wait in the room, but they only want one visitor at a time. If you don’t mind staying a little longer, I’d like to see her right after.”
“Of course.” Winter releases me and pulls a long necklace out from the collar of her shirt and starts dragging it mindlessly along the chain. “You got your necklace back.”
Holding it out to look at it, she says, “I made sure to grab it before we left the apartment.” She opens the locket and stares at the tiny photos. “I don’t know why my father wanted it. He never cared about these pictures before.” I look down at the photos of her mother on one side and Winter as a baby on the other.
I take it in my hand to get a closer look. “Your mom was beautiful.”
“In the lobby, my father stared at me like he was seeing her again,” she says.
“You do look a lot like her.”
“I’d seen him just four weeks prior. That’s not enough time to pass as if you’re seeing someone for the first time. It just makes me realize how he never saw me at all.”
“I see you.”
“Yes, you do.” She smiles and leans against me, admiring the pictures. “Thank you.”
“You’re a smiley, happy baby.”
“I was shaped like a potato.”
“Happy. Healthy. Loved. Cute as a potato.” I smirk. “That’s how babies should be.”
She takes her necklace off and rests her head on my arm. “Don’t you think it was weird that he wanted it? That they wouldn’t give up the box unless I gave it to them?”
“Yes. I don’t know if they were wasting time until the van arrived to kidnap you or he actually wants this necklace.”
She lifts it and looks at it in her hand, her thoughts lost on it as she stares.
The little tinkering sound it makes when she rattles it has me wondering. “Is it worth a lot?”
“I don’t think so. She had it made, but it’s just silver.”
“Have you ever looked up the stamp on the back?” Peering down to get a closer look, I read, “Browning.”
Leaning in, she gets a closer look. “Browning. I never noticed it before. I think I took so much for granted since I had it most of my life.”
The longer she stares at it, the more tension that grows. I finally ask, “What are you thinking?”
“He was upset I’d lost it. The silver isn’t worth enough to justify what they’ve done to me. That means—”
“It’s not about the silver.”
A heavy pause hangs between us. She glances at me and then opens the locket, popping open the tiny silver frame. The photo stays in place. As if she has to justify it, she says, “It’s old.”
“It’s okay.”
She nods and uses her nail to pry the little photo from sticking to the locket. I see her shoulders fall like mine do. “There’s nothing there.” Showing me the blank shining silver, she says, “Well, that’s a letdown.”
Watching her put the photo back in, I ask, “What’s that thing you say when you shake it?”
“Ring the bell and make a wish. You’ll receive what you need.” I listen as she shakes it.
“What makes that sound?”
Shrugging, she replies, “I don’t know. I never had the key.”
“Do you think it’s anything?”
“Braden used to tell me it was one of his baby teeth so I never wanted to open it.”
She hands it to me. I turn it over in my hand, the chain hanging over, and jangle it again. Fascinating. “What if it’s not?”
“I guess we find a key to fit it when we get back to New York and find out.” She turns to the door. “I want to be there when Chelsea wakes up.”
I pull her back to me and kiss her on the head. She smiles and a faint blush crosses her cheeks when she looks back before we leave.
Lars opens the door, and we walk together past the security detail outside the door. A nurse leads us to Chelsea’s room and gives Winter instructions before she steps inside and tends to her. Winter stays in the doorway and takes my hand. “You’re staying at the hospital?”
“Yes,” I say, looking around the room. The nurse excuses herself and marks on the chart when she exits. I add, “We’ll be in the room down the hall. Victor will be stationed here. Let him know if you need anything, and he can contact us. All right?” I reach around her and pull us together. “I won’t leave until you do.”
“Thank you.”
Then I kiss her head again, so fucking thankful she’s okay. “I’ll check in on you later.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I’m about to go, but something in my gut tells me to stay. Leaning inside the room, I look through the open door. Chelsea has lost some color, but she looks peaceful while she sleeps. The machines have a soft whirr to them, and her heart is steadily beating. The rest of the room is standard for a hospital room. Nothing catches my eyes, but something feels off. I can’t leave her here.
“I’ll stay.”
Winter looks up at me when I take her from the room and tuck her behind me. She says, “You’re tired. Get some rest.”
“I shouldn’t leave—”
“You should. Victor’s right here. I’ll be fine.”
Ethan comes down the hall, and says, “How is she?”
“She’s doing well. Asleep right now,” Winter replies.
I step in but keep my voice down. “Have they found McCoy?”
Ethan says, “No. They’ve sent out the photo. We’ll have more interviews tomorrow, but after that, we’re getting on the plane and heading home.” To Winter, he adds, “Chelsea’s parents will be here by morning to stay with her until she can travel back. We’ll also station a guard while she’s here.”
“What about after that?” Winter asks.
“Her parents have money, Winter,” Ethan says. “They’ve turned down my offer to fly her home and said they’ll handle it. As for security, they don’t trust us, and it’s understandable. They’re confused about what happened. Kurt was engaged to their daughter. They have a lot coming at them and don’t know who to believe.” Checking his phone, he starts texting. When he’s done, he’s distressed. “If they want my help, they’ll have it.”
“Thank you,” Winter replies.
His attention is elsewhere. He starts typing again and then walks away. “I need to make a call. Are you staying?”
Putting the necklace over her head, I set it so the design faces out. “We’re staying.”
He nods. “Walk with me, Bennett.” While heading toward the exit, he says, “Look, I need to get back tomorrow. Singer’s not feeling well. She’s with Hutton and Ally. They’ll help her until I get back, but I want to be there for her.”
“You should go if she needs you.”
“I’ll talk to the detective once more before I leave. By the way, one of the renters had a camera in the hall. We’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing.”
“I was worried we’d be stuck here for a month dealing with it.”
“Nope. You’re free to go since you already gave your statement.” He pats my back. “You doing all right?”