Chapter 28 #2
Some Bills hisses, the noise echoing off marble and metal and shocking me. I lift the cage in my arms, spinning it around to the opening to see what’s got him worked up. “What—”
Something comes bounding down the stairs, and I don’t have time to do anything but suck in a breath to scream as an enormous blur of brown launches itself at me.
Protecting my child first, I half-turn to shield the cage, and land hard on my knee and then hip.
The carrier falls from my arms and skitters across the marble as I finish the rest of my descent with about 150 lbs of something following me down.
Luckily my arms are free to protect my head from the fall, but I land hard on my elbow, skidding a few inches. Stretched out on my stomach, it takes me a second to get my bearings before I realize that the smell and hot feeling on my neck is dog breath.
Over my shoulder, a Great Dane smiles a dopey dog grin down at me. It leans down and promptly begins licking as much of my face as it can reach. I turn my head with a little squeal of disgust and try to shrug it away, but its enormous paws are digging into my back and I can barely move.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I wheeze when it stops. “Now get off me.”
There’s a sharp whistle that makes the dog look up. Seeing something more interesting than me, it dismounts and trots over to whoever made the noise.
“Who are you? How did you get in?” a deep voice thunders.
His accent is so thick, it takes me a few seconds to register what he said. This must be Dimitri—normally I don’t like to stereotype, but in this case I think I’m safe assigning that identity to the man with the Russian accent so thick you could chip a tooth on it.
“Door was open,” I joke, painfully rolling over and rising into a sitting position. When I look up, my stomach drops and fear spikes at the sight of the big, mean-looking giant of a man standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Now that’s an assassin. He’s probably the tallest person I’ve ever seen, built like a refrigerator and, judging by his scowl and icy stare, just as frigid. As if his size and bulk alone weren’t enough, he’s got a gnarly old scar that made a mess out of an otherwise damn handsome face.
The noise he makes is full of disbelief and scorn. “That is not possible,” he replies, totally straight-faced.
Wait… is he for real? Yeah, obviously the door wasn’t open. Wesley gave his fingerprints to two separate scanners and needed an eight-bit code to get into Fort Extravagance. “I was just kidding,” I mutter.
I’m almost afraid to take his hand when he offers it, looming over me and bending at the waist to get his arm down low enough.
He helps me up, nearly lifting me clear into the air when he miscalculates my size.
But as he settles a giant paw on my shoulder, I realize he’s not being helpful. He’s keeping me from getting away.
And maybe it’s because he’s so fucking enormous that I’m basically eye-level with it, but I have to resist the urge to put my hands up like I’m surrendering when I see the outline of the weapon in his dark sweatpants.
“Jesus, is that a gun in your pants or are you happy to see me?”
He scowls harder—how?—and digs into his pocket. “It is a banana,” he replies simply, showing the fruit. He shakes my shoulder lightly. “Now tell me who you are.”
I almost laugh at the dry delivery of what is objectively the funniest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say, but the tightening of his fingers makes my bones creak, and I wince instead. “You are one scary motherfucker, you know that?”
“Yes,” he booms.
Wow, he can really project. Or maybe it’s all the marble that his voice can bounce off. “Relax, I’m with Wesley. I’m tech support. Here to help you catch all those bad guys—”
And that’s when Wesley opens the bathroom door. “Madison? Dimitri, what’s going on?”
“Oh, she is Madison,” Dimitri says, voice full of recognition. He releases me with an apologetic look. I mean, I think it is. I literally can’t see his face because he’s too tall. I can see up his nose, though.
I reach down and scoop up the cat carrier. Some Bills seems wary of the dog and a little ruffled, but otherwise fine. I’m so glad I put him in the carrier for this—I’d hate to have lost him somewhere in this labyrinth of luxury.
“I texted you that we were on our way—” Wesley cuts himself off as his eyes land on the Great Dane panting at the bottom of the stairs. “Is that a dog?”
“No, it’s a mini horse with personal boundary issues and a very enthusiastic way of saying hello,” I say, wiping the side of my face on my shoulder. I feel like I’ve still got drool on my cheek.
Wesley crosses the foyer and lifts a hand to turn my face to the side, like he’s checking for damage. “Are you all right? What happened?”
“I’m fine.” I shrug off his concern, though I grab the bottom of his shirt so he won’t go anywhere. I feel a lot less like I’m gonna piss my pantaloons in front of Dimitri with Wesley bolstering me.
Dimitri gives us space, turning and laying a hand on the Great Dane’s head. The picture it paints is genuinely surprising—next to each other and from further away, they almost look like a regular-sized man and his regular-sized dog.
“You got a dog? When did you get a dog?” Wesley demands, rubbing his temples.
“Recently. Wesley, this is Small Dog.” At Wesley’s look of slack-jawed astonishment, Dimitri’s chest puffs out. “It is funny because it is not true. He is quite large,” he explains needlessly.
My eyes widen, and I turn to Wesley to gauge his reaction. Okay, this guy cannot be for real.
But Wesley is just lifting a brow at the dog in disbelief. “Nicole let you name him that?”
“She hasn’t yet. We’re putting it to a vote. My entry was Doobie Scoo,” says another newcomer.
When he steps into the foyer, my breath whooshes out.
This guy is warm where the Russian is cold.
Tan skin, smiling eyes, tawny hair flopping casually.
Even though he’s shorter than Dimitri, he’s still way too fuckin’ tall, if you ask me.
But his smile seems permanently affixed, and it’s so damn charming on his handsome face that I nearly swoon before I remember myself.
“Fuuuck me,” I breathe in, swallowing my drool. With this many inches of raw masculinity on all sides, I think I just got pregnant. “What’s a girl gotta do to get spat on around here? Should I fry some bacon?”
Wesley pinches my ass, and I start laughing. I know it’s not nice to tease him like that, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s been a series of very long days, and I think I’m starting to get loopy.
“I’m Mac,” the hot guy says.
“I’m Madison. And this is Some Bills,” I gesture to the carrier, glancing up at Dimitri. “It’s funny because it is true.”
There’s a beat, and then Dimitri lets out a loud bark that I only realize is a laugh when his lips settle into a twisted half smile. “Because pets are expensive and do not create value! I agree. That is a good name. Very clever.”
He is for real. Okay. Good to know. This could be a lot of fun.
“Is she here?!” someone calls from behind Mac.
The patter of bare feet against polished stone precedes a woman into the foyer. A few more measured steps behind her is another woman.
It’s a foyer party, apparently.
They’re both gorgeous—plus size baddies that make me feel so comfortable in my skin in this weird, unfamiliar, austere place that I’m instantly nervous because I want them to like me so badly.
One is pale, with bright blue eyes and a round face that’s open and friendly.
She’s got food all over her apron. The other is a tall, bronze goddess with wild golden curls haloing her head like a crown. No food on her.
Dios, is all they do in this house have giant orgies? I mean, I’m not opposed, but you also couldn’t pay me to go near Dimitri’s anaconda. He’d split me in half.
“Hi!” the one with the apron says, crossing the distance. “I’m Eleanor.”
“Nicole,” the goddess waves, going to Dimitri’s side. She leans down to pet Small Dog on the head, and he gives her an adoring look that somehow echoes the one on Dimitri’s face.
“Madison,” I say, taking Eleanor’s hand as she extends it.
Jesus Christ, is there something in the water here? Every single person standing in this room is somewhere near or over six feet tall—I can’t tell exactly, because it’s hard to estimate from way down here. I feel like I’m about to be sent to the kid’s table.
“This is probably weird for you,” Eleanor says with a friendly, understanding smile. “But we’ve been waiting for you to get home. To meet you.”
“Weird is…” I glance at Wesley, who’s watching our exchange with a hint of a smile, “not the word I’d use, but that about covers it.”
Eleanor chuckles, then cocks her head to the side, taking in my hair. “You know, you look kind of familiar.”
“I was just thinkin’ the same damn thing, darlin’,” Mac adds.
Eleanor’s blue eyes widen. “Hey wait, didn’t you used to work at the Rouge Elephant—”
“Oh! You were the girl at the flower shop—”
Mac and Eleanor cut each other off, exchanging a look and then a laugh when they realize they both remember me from different places.
“I’ve had a lot of jobs,” I explain wryly. Working at the flower shop was to help someone Abuela knows through church, but the seating hostess gig at the Rouge Elephant was because I needed some credit card information on a few of their high rollers for a job.
“You’re the green-haired seating hostess who tried to steal my man,” Eleanor says, still smiling widely. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nicole stiffen.
I swallow. Fuck. Now I kinda remember her, too.
I’m a bit thrown off by her persistently friendly face, which seems so at odds with her fighting words.
She doesn’t seem mad, but I turn to the side and tuck myself against Wesley a little harder, hoping to show her exactly where my loyalties lie.
Wesley lifts a hand and gently rubs my upper arm in a move so possessive and supportive it makes my uterus do a little flip.
“Doesn’t look like he can be stolen,” I note, hoping I didn’t step too hard on anyone’s toes.
She laughs, and I feel the steel in my spine melt. “Nope!” she agrees brightly, going over to him. He holds his arm up, and she slots into the space he creates seamlessly, like they’ve done it thousands of times.
Now we’re all coupled up, standing in a strange triangle.
I shoot a little smile at Wesley, who’s been a comforting presence but stood back and let me handle things.
He’s been so quick to step in up until now—I wonder if it was my little lecture in the car, or if he just doesn’t think I need protection here.
Either way, I get the sense this introduction was important to him, so I hope I passed the test.
I blow out a long breath. “Is there somewhere we can put SB?” I ask, lifting the carrier in my hand.
Eleanor gasps jealously. “You have a cat!” She turns to Mac, lower lip dropping into a pout. “Now everyone has a pet but us.”
His gaze turns appraising. “You know I’ll get you whatever you want, darlin’. As long as you don’t want a parrot.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want… wait, you have a problem with parrots specifically?” she wonders. “Why?”
“Because it’s fucking creepy that they can talk, and frankly, more people should be concerned about that. I don’t trust ‘em.”
“Any bird that can talk is definitely spying on you and sending your secrets to the government,” I agree seriously.
“Thank you,” Mac says, gesturing to me like I’m the only sane one for believing him.
“Ravens can talk, too.”
Mac’s smile of teasing amusement falls instantly. “What?” he croaks.
“I’ll show you a video later that will blow your mind,” I offer, eyeing Eleanor just to be sure I’m not encroaching. Again. “Both of you,” I amend, just in case. I promise I don’t want your man.
She’s pressing her lips together to suppress a smile. “Let’s go into the kitchen. Are you hungry, Madison?”
“Madison, you’re bleeding,” Wesley says before I can answer, gently taking my forearm and examining the back of my elbow. The stinging sensation when my skin pulls against the handling probably means I’ve got a strawberry from my fall.
Nicole straightens. “What happened?” she asks in a low voice. And if her no-nonsense medical professional tone wasn’t enough to convince me, the way she instantly crosses the room in concern when she’s been so standoffish would.
That means she’s probably the nurse Tío kidnapped. Great.
“Just hit the ground a little hard,” I explain, lifting my forearm and feeling like a kid at the doctor when the Amazonian Queen gets close enough to examine the scratch.
“Go with Nicole,” Wesley urges. He holds out his hand to take the cat carrier from me. “I’m going to put him in my office.”
My eyes cut to the dog, still sitting like a good boy at Dimitri’s feet. “He wasn’t exactly a fan of Small Dog,” I say quietly.
“No dogs allowed in the office,” he assures me with a wink.
Still holding my forearm with her gentle, cool touch, Nicole turns to shoot Dimitri a look over her shoulder, to which he ducks his head.
“Small Dog,” she rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch in playful exasperation as she turns to me.
“They named him George at the shelter. I just don’t want to confuse him. ”
This is the strangest place I’ve ever been.
As if he heard my thought, Wesley chuckles, presses a kiss to my temple, takes the cat carrier, and lets Nicole lead me further into the mansion.