39. Remington
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, unless…
unless he needed me, but he didn’t. I knew that because I had a man on him.
No way in hell was I going to let anything happen to him.
Thankfully, he’d moved out of the horrible apartment he’d been living in.
He wasn’t a working boy anymore. He was trying to get a legal job and was moving on with his life.
That’s what I needed to do if only I could get Henri out of my mind.
I thought about him all day no matter how I tried to distract myself. I barely slept because when I did, I dreamed of him. After two weeks without him, I was strung out, drinking too much, sleeping too little, and fueling myself with coffee and anger.
I was contemplating all the people I needed to yell at before the morning was up when my father summoned me, saying we needed to talk. Great. Another lecture. Just what I needed. Part of me wanted to walk away and leave all the responsibilities weighing on me behind.
When I reached my parents’ house, I noted Lance’s car in the driveway and frowned. Maybe I wasn’t in for a lecture after all. Maybe this was a meeting about some new problem that had arisen, but if that were the case, I would already know about it.
Antoine greeted me, took my coat, and told me my father was waiting in his office. He wasn’t alone. Lance was there along with Corbin and Marjorie. This was a goddamned intervention. I should have seen it coming.
“I know what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not going to?—”
“Sit down, son,” my father growled. “Don’t speak again until I say it’s your turn.”
I clenched my fists and pressed my lips together, but I did as he said.
“I’m tired of you walking around here looking like you’ve lost everything to your worst enemy.
We beat the Landrys—as I knew we would—but you’d never know it by the way you’re acting.
I’m well aware of how much we spoiled Corbin”—my youngest brother huffed, but our father waved him off—“but you’ve never acted like such a brat. ”
His words felt like slaps.
“Pop, I?—”
“I’m not finished. I know you have your reasons for feeling like you do, but you’re not doing a damn thing about it, and we’re all tired of you taking your anger out on us. I gave you the position you’re in because I thought you knew how to lead, but you’re neglecting everything.”
I was hurt by his accusation but also furious. “I’ve been working all day and most of the night. I haven’t been neglecting any?—”
“You’re going through the motions, but all you’re doing is sending out orders, ones you haven’t even thought through. You’re not making anyone want to follow you, not since the night with the Landrys.”
Marjorie interrupted then. “Remington, darling, we’re tired of seeing you so hurt and sad.”
“Just go fucking talk to him,” Lance said.
Marjorie narrowed her eyes at him. “Language.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He attempted to look contrite, but Tony jumped on his shoulder and chattered as if in agreement with what he’d said.
I was not taking relationship advice from a monkey.
Corbin met my gaze, and I couldn’t remember him ever looking so serious.
“Like I told you that night I hung out with him. He cares about you.”
I slammed my hand down on the arm of my chair. “If he cares about me, then why the fuck did he leave?”
“Do not use that language in front of Marjorie,” my father barked.
I jumped and looked at her. “Excuse me.”
“That’s all right.”
“Henri left because he heard what we said, not because he doesn’t care,” Lance said.
“He wouldn’t listen to an explanation.”
“Would you have?” Corbin asked. “If you were mad and hurt and feeling vulnerable, would you listen?”
“Are you listening now?” Lance asked.
They were coming for me like a pack of angry wolves.
I could stand up to wolves. I’d stood up to men who were far more dangerous, but this was my family, the people who knew me best, the people I shared my secrets with.
I’d thought I could share secrets with Henri.
I shared more with him than I had with my brothers, but he’d walked away.
Marjorie laid a hand on my knee. “He needs you.”
“Go tell him. Make him listen,” Corbin insisted.
The rest of them nodded.
Shit. They were right. I was miserable without him, and that wasn’t going to change.
I always went after what I wanted. Why should this be any different?
I would give him a choice about coming back with me, but I wasn’t going to give him a choice about listening.
Not anymore. “All right. I’ll go see him. ”
“Now?” Corbin asked. When did he get so demanding? Maybe I really hadn’t realized how much he’d grown up.
“Tonight. He’s got a temp job at a florist today.”
“How do you know that?” Lance had an obnoxious smirk on his face.
“Because I’ve had someone following him to make sure he was safe and that he didn’t…” I stopped. I’d never told them the real story of how we’d met, and I wasn’t going to do that now. If Henri wanted to tell them one day, that was fine, but it was his story to tell.
“Tonight then,” Pop said. “As soon as he’s finished with work.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t think we won’t hold you accountable,” Lance added.
I glared at him. “Do not follow me.”
“I won’t.” He glanced at Corbin, and I did not like the smile that passed between them.
I jabbed my finger toward Corbin. “You don’t follow me either.”
He gave me an enigmatic smile.
For the rest of the day, my concentration was even more fucked up than it had been for the last two weeks. All I could think about was seeing Henri that night. I thought through what I would say over and over, but I couldn’t make it sound right.
I continually checked in with Oswald, the man tailing Henri, and he continued to assure me Henri was at the florist. He kept his tone neutral, but I was sure he was questioning my sanity.
As if I hadn’t waited long enough, Henri stayed at the florist after it closed, not leaving until almost eight o’clock. Oswald’s best guess was that he was doing inventory. I knew he needed all the extra money he could get, but if he would just agree to be mine, that problem would disappear.
Finally, Oswald texted me that Henri was leaving. I checked my appearance in the mirror, grabbed my keys, and was about to walk out the door when my phone rang. It was Oswald again.
“Mr. Theriot.” His voice sounded weak, his breath ragged.
“What’s wrong?”
“They took him.”
I had to grip the doorframe to keep from sinking to the floor. “Who? Where?” I would find Henri and then I would kill whoever had dared to touch him. Henri was mine. I’d never been more sure of that.
“I think it was Landry. Charles Landry.”
No way. No fucking way. “Charles Landry is dead.”
“Looked just like him. Beard and all.”
Shit. Why hadn’t I listened to Henri? Why hadn’t I looked into Charles’s supposed death?
“You’re injured?”
“Shot in the shoulder, but?—”
“Where are you?” He gave his location, which was about a block from Henri’s new apartment.
“I tried t-to follow, sir, but I… couldn’t keep up.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll have someone pick you up. Which direction did they go?”
He told me the direction, but that didn’t really mean anything. If it really was Charles, chances were he’d taken Henri to the warehouse where I’d seen him “die” the night I’d met Henri, the night my life changed.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Why hadn’t I gone after Henri before now? Why hadn’t I listened when he sworn he’d seen Charles? I should never have assumed the threat was neutralized. I should have ordered my man to stick closer.
I pushed all those thoughts away. I couldn’t change any of that now.
I had to focus on finding him. I called Lance.
I wanted him with me, but I wasn’t going to wait.
I was in my Ferrari before the call went through.
This time, I didn’t care about discretion.
I didn’t care if someone ripped my car apart piece by piece.
All that mattered was Henri. I had to save him.