38
Henri
The next two weeks were hell. I missed Remington so badly my chest ached. I felt like my bones were made of lead, but I dragged myself through each day. Slowly, I made progress. I used the money I’d made to rent my own room in an old house. I shopped some thrift stores and got myself clothes I could wear to job interviews, and I made an appointment with a debt counselor. It was time to own up to my past and stop running.
My heart was still broken. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to put the pieces back together. It wasn’t just cracked; it was shattered. Somehow, though, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe one day I would find someone else to… No, I wasn’t going to find anyone else like Remington, but I didn’t need a man like him. I needed to find someone from my own world, someone who didn’t use people so easily.
I’d put my name in with a few temp agencies, and finally, I got a call to work at a florist ringing people up, bringing out orders, and tidying the store when there weren’t any customers. It was a good day’s work. The owner was exacting and demanding but not unfairly so. He even offered to pay me cash to stay a few hours late and help organize the stockroom.
I’d eagerly taken him up on that offer, but it meant that when I left work, it was fully dark outside. As I walked, the rich smells from restaurants tried to lure me in, but I needed to save my money and eat something cheap at home, probably yet another pack of ramen. I hoped the florist would need me back again the next day. If they did, maybe I would indulge myself and buy dinner on the way home.
The room I rented was in a slightly better neighborhood than my cousin’s apartment, but it still wasn’t the sort of area where I should be unaware of my surroundings, especially not once it got dark, but I was lost in thought about the job applications I’d submitted and what my life would be like if I got one of the positions. The downside of it was that I would still be lonely without Remington.
The way I longed for him made me furious. I didn’t want to want him. I’d been a fool to let passion rule me. Scenes from the time I’d spent with him flashed in my mind. I’d thought things with him were perfect, like the day we spent—
Someone gripped my arm and yanked me into an alley. For just a second, I imagined it was Remington. Had he come to beg my forgiveness? But then a rough hand closed over my throat. I started to scream, but the man slapped his other hand over my mouth. It smelled like rotten fish. Bile rose in my mouth as I struggled.
“You got him?” another man asked. “Yeah, but he’s a fighter.”
The other man shoved a gun against my abdomen. “Keep that up, and I’ll use this.”
“Boss said to bring him in alive.”
“I don’t see why it matters. It’s not like the boss is going to let him live.”
“Theriot ain’t going to come for him if the little bitch is dead.”
The man with the gun snorted. “He probably ain’t going to come anyway. He’s already thrown this one away.”
Ridiculously, I wanted to scream that I’d left him, not the other way around, as if that mattered. I wanted to fight, but I knew I couldn’t. The smelly man was too strong for me, and I didn’t doubt the second man would shoot me at least to incapacitate me if not to kill. The better shape I was in, the more chance I would have of escaping once they took me wherever we were going. They hustled me down the alley and shoved me into the trunk of a car. The second man held me at gunpoint as the first wrapped duct tape around my wrists and ankles, then slapped a piece of it over my mouth. That was the first time I’d gotten a good look at him. It was Charles Landry, the enormous man with a beard I’d recognized as the one who’d been watching Remington’s house. The one who was supposed to be dead.
When they closed the trunk, I was sure I was going to suffocate. I had to concentrate to breathe slowly in and out of my nose. Tears tracked down my cheeks as the car started and began to move. Remington had nearly broken me. I’d lost what would probably be my only chance at my fantasy life. I’d thought I’d sunk as low as I could, but now thanks to my short-lived relationship with Remington, I wasn’t going to live long enough to show up for the job interviews I’d so desperately sought.
39
Remington
I’d been more of an asshole than usual since Henri had left. I had no patience for my brothers’ nonsense and no willingness to accept anything less-than-perfect from anyone who worked for the family. I’d snapped at my father, earning a stern lecture and the threat of him stepping back in. I’d endured a lecture from my stepmother about how I was stressing out my father and putting his health in danger. I’d been polite to her, but that was all.
I’d listened to Lance and Corbin tell me all the reasons why I should go after Henri. I’d ignored them. He’d left me. He didn’t want to listen. I wasn’t going to beg him to come back. I wasn’t going to see him at all,
