47. Claire
Chapter forty-seven
Claire
I honestly never expected that I’d return to Costa Rica again, but as we land at the airstrip and are greeted by a small group on the ground, something about it feels right. Michael is the only one I recognize from when he attended dinner with us. I don’t think I even said two words to him that night and yet, he regards me like a dear friend he hasn’t seen in a long time. He’s already wrapping me in his arms, nearly crushing me against him as he lifts my feet off the ground before Remy’s have even touched it.
“Knock it off!” Remy chides. “Or I’ll send you back to Holland with one less hand than you started with.”
Michael snickers, setting me down and grinning conspiratorially as he steps away. My head spins a little at the sudden rush of his affection, but the grin on his face makes me crack a smile, too. It fades when I get a look at the guys standing together behind him.
They’re huge, tall and muscled, imposing with their thick arms crossed over their chests in similar fashion. Other than the heavy attitude and their obvious irritation, they don’t share many physical similarities, so I assume they’re not brothers, though the way they mirror each other tells me they must be close. And the way they glare at Remy tells me they must not be happy with him.
“Kent, Rich,” Remy greets them with a simple nod.
“Boudreaux.” Only one of them speaks, the other nods in return.
“This is Claire. She’ll be staying with us for a bit. Claire, that’s Kent, and this is Rich.” He indicates the dark-haired one as Rich, and he at least manages a charming smile for me. I don’t doubt he’s great at melting ladies with a smile like that, but as soon as he switches his attention to Remy, the hostility is back.
Nobody does anything to ease the tension until Michael opens the door and gestures me into the back seat with a grin.
“I’m sitting beside the pretty girl.” He says, like he’s calling dibs on shotgun. I can’t help but laugh just a little at him. Maybe I’m just so absurdly tired, or maybe being back here, where I was the woman I want to become again, has me feeling lighter than I have in ages. Either way, I slide into the center seat and Remy follows, sandwiching me between him and Michael, who comes around to let himself in on my other side.
Before he shuts his door, I hear Rich say, “I’d give it all up for a girl like that too.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, but it’s obvious the words were meant for Kent, who cranks open the passenger side door and climbs in without saying another word.
The ride back to Remy’s home is awkward, with Kent and Rich in the front seat glowering, and me with the sneaking suspicion that they don’t like me. I’m not sure what I did to them personally, since this is the first time I’ve met either of them. I didn’t even know they existed, so I can’t imagine what I did to earn their displeasure.
Remy is silent beside me, lost in thought. He hasn’t tried to touch me since the night I helped kill Addsion, and part of me worries that he’s lost the spark for me. Part of me craves it, each time he moves his arm and I think he’s going to pull me against him or when he looks at me for a second longer than necessary, and I think he’s going to kiss me.
I’m so consumed with my own thoughts that I don’t realize immediately that this isn’t the path to Remy’s home. Anxiety rises inside of me once I do, the churning feeling in my stomach mixing with the uncomfortable awareness that I’m in the car with two men who don’t seem to have any affection for me. Remy must hear my shaky inhale as I try to stave off the memory of Jovich driving me into the middle of nowhere, Mac’s needle in my skin. He looks up, realizing what I already have, and frowns.
“What are you doing? You passed the turn for my house.”
“We’re not going to your house.” Rich says, like that wasn’t already obvious.
Next to me, Michael places a steady hand just above my knee, prompting me to look up at him.
“It’s okay,” he promises. “You’re alright. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
“I’ll hurt you if you don’t take your fucking hand off her.” Remy spits, reaching over me to shove Michael’s hand off of me. There was no heat in Michael’s gaze, no interest for me, nothing sinister about his touch. Something about Remy’s possessiveness makes my chest swell, but I don’t know if it’s in a good way or not.
“What’s your ploy, Kent? To traumatize my girlfriend some more?”
Girlfriend.
It’s a weird word. It doesn’t sound right on his tongue, in the air, put out into the universe. It doesn’t seem to encompass any of the complicated nature of whatever exists between us.
“Christ, Boudreaux. You really are selfish, you know? This isn’t about you or her. It’s about taking responsibility for your actions. We’re going to the hotel.”
“No.” Remy’s voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, but I don’t think the men in the front seat care about what he wants right now.
“Jump out if you want,” Rich says, shrugging his shoulders a little. “But unless your girl is willing to follow you, she’ll be coming with us.”
“Dimitri told me what you did to Wes,” Michael says, leaning toward me just enough so that I know his words are for me, and yet keeping enough space that Remy doesn’t lunge across my lap to choke him. “I’ve already warned everyone not to fuck with you, you beautiful badass. ”
Something about the way he says it makes me laugh, letting the anxiety peel back a little. I don’t have a clue what their plans are or where we’re going, but when we pull up to the clearly abandoned hotel, it’s not what I expected.
Despite the desolate parking lot and the sign that’s been cleared of its last message, it’s not a creepy sort of abandoned. In fact, the lush green mountains situated behind the building make it almost impossible to imagine anything nefarious going on here. But I know that beauty and darkness are not mutually exclusive, so when Rich cuts the engine, I still feel the slightest sense of unease. Particularly when Remy crosses his arms and refuses to get out of the car.
I’ve never seen him act like a child before, and as confused as I am by whatever the hell is going on, it’s almost amusing.
“They need you, Rem.” Michael says, opening his door and sliding out of the backseat.
“I’m done being needed.” Remy snaps, turning to glare at Kent through the open door. “I told you that. I came here to help you because I owe you, but—”
“You owe them!” Kent growls, pointing to the building behind him. I follow the direction he indicates, confused, and catch the movement just as a curtain snaps back into place. The movement makes me stiffen, at first, and then I notice Michael offering me a hand.
It’s mad to follow the man I barely know, but Remy’s behavior seems more petulant than fear-based. I’m already sliding his way by the time Remy reaches out to try and stop me.
“Claire! Don’t go in there.”
“What’s inside?” I ask, though I guess the better question would be who’s inside. Remy hesitates a moment too long, so I slide the rest of the way out of the car, letting Michael help me avoid the mud puddle from a recent rainstorm.
Kent and Rich are already headed to the side of the building, with Michael and I following not far behind, when I hear Remy, cursing as he slams his door shut. He’s at my side in a matter of seconds.
“I don’t want you to see this.” He tells me, catching my wrist so that I have to turn to face him.
“To see what?” I challenge, even though I somehow know he isn’t going to answer that. I shake him off and close the distance to Michael, following him through the industrial looking door that the other two already passed through.
I expected an abandoned building to be dark inside, but we enter into something like a kitchen, which is not only well-lit, but it’s clearly not abandoned.
Elaine looks up just as I recognize her, and the look on her face makes me laugh now that I know she wasn’t the one responsible for poisoning me last year.
“Oh!” I’m glad she’s not chopping anything this time, because she drops the potato and the peeler, letting them clatter to the Formica countertop. For the first time, Elaine wraps me in her arms, pulling me against her chest. “Oh, thank God,” she sighs.
“Elaine.” I say by way of greeting. I let myself ease in her arms, appreciating her warm scent as whatever she was cooking clings to her. It’s an almost maternal embrace she sweeps me into, crushing my ribcage as she holds me tightly. When she pulls back, she studies my face, my body, without judgement or pity, both of which I appreciate her for.
“I’d like to talk to you later,” she says, patting me gently on the cheek. “After dinner, maybe? If that’s okay?”
I don’t know if we’re staying for dinner, but I idly hope so. The scent of garlic permeates the air, and the sizzling coming from the stovetop promises comfort food that I didn’t even realize I was craving. I nod at her, and she turns to get back to her work, clearly pleased about something.
“Taissa’s been begging to see you for weeks.” Kent says coldly, making my head turn to take him in. It’s clear his words aren’t meant for me, but Remy, who is standing just inside the now closed door, glowering. “I’ll show you to her room.”
“I don’t want to see her,” Remy snips, glancing at me. “Just give me a room I can take Claire to while you try to strong-arm me into playing the savior.”
“You’re not a fucking savior.” Kent snorts. “You’re the biggest pussy I’ve ever met. You put on a good show, though.”
Remy raises an eyebrow, looking bored. I’m not sure if Kent was just trying to bait him into something or if that’s how he really feels, but either way, Remy could care less. “I don’t want a room.” I say, turning to address Kent myself. “What is going on? What is this place? Who is Taissa?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Rich murmurs, shaking his head as if I’ve just exhausted him.
“Taissa is one of the captives we freed from a brothel a few weeks ago. She’s just one of the ones who’s asked about him…” Kent’s eyes slip to Remy, letting him notice the obvious disapproval.
I can’t blame them for wanting an audience with Remy. He saved me, too, and that left a mark on me… maybe not an obvious one, but it did something to my soul. We had a connection before I was taken, but he showed up for me in my most hopeless moment, and that does something to your brain chemistry. I don’t honestly know how to separate any of it from the thing before it to try and decode my feelings for him.
I think I love him, but I don’t know what love is, what it is supposed to be. Somewhere along the way, all the different things I admired about him blurred together—the infatuation of my best friend’s mysterious and gorgeous older brother, my respect for him and what he does, the impossible to deny chemistry between us.
“Can I meet them?”
“Of course,” Michael says, at the same time Remy says, “Absolutely not.”
But it doesn’t matter what Remy says, because I’m already following the others out of the kitchen.