I didn’t think things could really be made better. But I wasn’t being abandoned by my siblings, and that was a gift I’d never be able to repay. Bridget furrowed her brow, a string of her red hair falling into her eyes. She stared intently at our brother. I wished I could read her mind like twins and triplets could do in stories, but if anyone had that talent, it hadn’t been me.
They walked past Michael and headed into the car. The head of security looked at me and then the car. He stalked over to me and leaned down. “It’s safe right now. We don’t have any immediate threats to be concerned with. But I don’t like leaving you, so try and fix this thing with your father soon. Okay?”
I think that might have been the most he’d ever said to me in one moment. He’d always been impressively quiet. I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Maybe everything would be okay.
My optimism lasted as I watched the limo drive away, leaving me on a bench in a country where I couldn’t understand a word the locals said. I even managed to find myself a taxi. It had been years since I’d been in one. If I wasn’t in a car being driven by paid staff, I used ride shares. But since I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t do any of that, and so a taxi was my only choice.
I’d taken French in school. We’d all had to, and I’d lived in French-speaking countries, but I couldn’t speak or understand any of it. I’d never been able to. It was just another way that my brain perpetually failed me. Any language other than English eluded me, no matter what I tried to do about it. The taxi driver must have understood me enough to get me to the hotel. We pulled up to the building, and I let out the breath I felt like I’d been holding the entire time.
The cab driver spoke, and I knew enough about life in general to understand that he wanted to be paid. That was sort of universal. I handed him Justin’s debit card, gratitude flooding me that he’d given it to me.
He was going to meet me here, and everything was going to be fine. I’d never have believed it, but my brother was actually coming through for me. All the years that he’d tortured or ignored me were behind us. When I needed him, drugs or no drugs, Justin was there.
The cab driver said something else I didn’t understand and shook his head wildly. I stared at him. Something was wrong. He held up the card and repeated the same phrases plus some new ones that didn’t sound any nicer as he pushed the debit card in front of my eyes.
It took me a moment to realize the card hadn’t worked. That was impossible. There had to be something electronically wrong. Justin’s card would be good. He’d never hand me a means to pay for this taxi that was going to be denied.
Would he?
“I…I don’t have anything else.” Not a thing, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Panic crept up my spine. What in the hell was I going to do? “Can you try the card again?”
We went back and forth like that for a good long time. Over and over, he’d try the card, it would be rejected, and he’d yell louder at me. That didn’t make what he was saying any clearer. Was he going to call the police? Was I going to spend the night in a prison in Paris? What was going to happen here? I…
The door flung open and standing in front of me was Zeke Scott, my father’s business partner. My mouth fell open. What was he doing here?
He regarded me for a second before he turned his attention to the cab driver, saying things back to him that I also couldn’t make out before he handed him some cash. At least that stopped the shouting.
Zeke reached in and grabbed my arm, basically yanking me out of the cab a second before the disgruntled driver took off like a bat out of hell down the block and away from where we stood watching. Gentler than he’d tugged me, Zeke let go of my arm.
“Sorry about that. I was half-convinced he was going to abscond with you as some sort of interest payment.”
That was a really stupid joke, but I laughed because I was so fucking relieved, I could hardly contain myself. “Wh—what are you doing here?”
Why was it hard to breathe? Someone had to have called him. This wasn’t just random. It couldn’t have been…
“Hope called.” He held up his phone. “Asked me to come get you, that you’d be arriving in a taxi you couldn’t pay for.”
My sister had saved me. “Why didn’t the card work? What is going on?”
“Seems that your brother has taken off with some diamonds that you gave him. He and Kit took the money and ran, so to speak.” He shook his head. “Stupid idiots. At least he sent you here. I happened to be here. I don’t know that I’d have crossed town to save you somewhere else.”
Okay. I was cooked. Fried. The dress that had earlier felt like a coffin was now like a noose. There was nothing around my neck, and yet it felt like someone choked me to death. Had all the air been sucked out around us?
Zeke placed his hand on my shoulder. “Layla. Do us both a favor and don’t pass out. I’m really not in the mood to play any bigger role in your drama today than the one I’ve just been forced to manage.”
My panic shifted from anxiety to anger in two seconds flat. “In my what?”
“Don’t shout either. The entire world doesn’t need to hear our conversation.”
My day really couldn’t get much worse. I’d run from Kit and left him at the altar. My father hated me, my brother stranded me at a hotel with no money, and despite his promises to come, he was obviously not going to do so. And Hope had sent Zeke Scott to get me—the man of my teenage fantasies—and he was proving himself to be just another asshole in the long line of men that I knew in this world.
I took a long breath. It didn’t really steady me, but I was going to pretend that it had. “Where is Hope?”
He looked away for a second before practically glaring at me. “On an airplane with Bridget and your father. They weren’t given the opportunity to get your stuff.”
That wasn’t possible. Justin, yes, he would abandon me, but not Hope. She and Bridget never would. I was one hundred percent sure about that.
“Hope said to tell you,” he pulled out his phone and stared down at it, “that she had no choice but to get on the plane. They drove straight to it, and if she doesn’t get on it, things will be worse for you. She will explain when you two next talk.”
I was fucked. I closed my eyes. I was in Paris. I couldn’t speak or understand a word being said to me, and I had almost no money in the account that was mine. My brother had stranded me at this hotel. What was I going to do? I counted to ten. It didn’t help. I was going to have to fake my way through this.
When I lifted my lids, I’d pulled it together at least well enough that I wasn’t going to cry. I hoped. “Zeke.” I didn’t know that I’d ever said his name aloud before. I’d said it plenty in the dark when I was all alone and imagining things I’d want done to my body. Asshole he might be, but gorgeous nonetheless. Besides, if today showed anything, it was that I had no sense whatsoever when it came to choosing men. Even my fantasies proved to be bad for me.
He lifted his eyebrows. We stood under a covering that led into the hotel. If we turned left, we’d be inside, right would take us back to the street. “Layla?”