Chapter 21 #3
I looked over my shoulder and saw the face of a man rapturously in love with his mate.
“There is no question but that my Sunshine would find herself in heaven in the bakeries here. It’s keeping Oscar hidden away that would be the challenge.
” He gave a small laugh that we all shared.
That brief moment of levity was so needed at that moment.
But that’s what Aspen did. She brought happiness.
I hoped I could be a little like her someday. Jess squeezed my hand.
Thirty minutes later, the convoy snaked around a block-long park and stopped at the entrance to our hotel.
Not just any hotel, but the H?tel de la Reine: a five-star palace in the 2nd arrondissement, all carved limestone and black wrought-iron balconies, glowing like a beacon in the gloom.
The awning was striped navy and cream, the kind of touch that made my heart skip with nostalgia for things I’d never actually had. Jess leaned in, voice low.
“You ever been someplace like this?” he asked.
I shook my head, unable to hide my awe. “I’ve stayed in five-star hotels with my family before, but this is beyond.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll come back sometime when we can actually enjoy it.”
The doors opened in sequence; the drivers popping out to help with the bags. Gwen met us at the curb, her blue pumps soaked but her smile bright as ever.
“First priority is inside. I’ll check the perimeter. Parker, you’re on comms with Wrecker. The rest of you—upstairs, low profile.”
Even in English, the words came out like orders barked on a drill field. It was strangely comforting.
We followed the valets in, our boots squeaking on the marble.
The lobby was a dream: two stories of crystal and gold leaf, a fireplace as big as a Volkswagen, and the air thick with the scent of peonies and whatever expensive cleaning fluid the French used to polish centuries of secrets.
For a second, I almost forgot why we were here.
The night manager appeared, a wisp of a man in a silk suit, his face an unreadable mask of efficiency. He spoke rapid French with Gwen, glancing at the rest of us only when absolutely necessary. He pointed us toward the private elevator at the end of the hall.
In the glass, I caught our reflection: six shadows, moving as one. Even Wrecker, who could never pass for anything but dangerous, managed to look like just another American tourist with too much gym time and not enough sense. I pressed close to Jess, who kept one arm braced protectively at my back.
The elevator ride was slow, old gears grinding up through the levels.
We spilled out onto the penthouse floor, where the suite door opened at Gwen’s touch.
Inside, the suite was absurd: three bedrooms, each with its own velvet-draped balcony; a kitchen stocked with enough wine and cheese to feed a small army; a living room with a view of the Eiffel Tower, lit up like a promise.
The moment the door latched, the spell broke. Everyone went to work.
Parker and Wrecker set up laptops at the dining table, unzipping cases and laying out an arsenal of gadgets.
Papa disappeared into the kitchen and returned with six tumblers and a bottle of whisky, pouring two fingers for everyone, no questions asked.
Doc checked all the windows, running a hand along the frames, then set up a med kit by the fireplace.
Jess pulled me aside into the hush of the master bedroom. “You okay?” he asked, searching my face.
“My legs are shaking,” I admitted.
He smiled, softening. “If they weren’t, I’d be worried. We did good tonight. Tomorrow is what matters.”
I nodded. I felt confident next to him; like I was more powerful than I was alone.
He held me for a minute, his chin resting on my head, then kissed my hair and guided me back to the main room. Papa handed me a glass. I took it, letting the whisky burn a line down my throat.
Through the balcony doors, the city glimmered. I could see the lights of Montmartre, and I imagined my sister somewhere out there, maybe even seeing the same sky. Maybe feeling the same fear.
We gathered around the table, each of us silent, waiting for Gwen to report back. I drank my whisky and let the warmth spread through me, chasing away the last of the cold.
After ten minutes, the suite phone buzzed. Jess answered, listened, then hung up. “Clear for now,” he said. “No tails. We hold here until dawn, then Gwen takes us to the rendezvous.”
I nodded. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but the determination in my chest burned hotter than ever. I would find my family. I would get them out. Nothing else mattered.
The others drifted off to their rooms in ones and twos. Jess stayed beside me on the couch, arms wrapped tight around my waist. We watched the city together, neither of us speaking.
Somewhere out there, my sister and mother were waiting. And this time, I would not let them go.
We made it back to our beautiful bedroom suite where I showered off the day’s travel and dressed in my comfortable flannel pants and sweatshirt. Jess pulled me to his chest when we made it to the bed. Sleep came easy and dreamless. The only thing I carried into the dark was hope.