Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Thayer
“Thayer, you here?” Lyam yells.
I stretch and stand, my muscles aching from sitting too damn long at the desk. I shut off my computer, put the pens back in the penholder, and straighten the calendar.
Fabien says I have a hair across my ass. Asshole.
My mother calls my tendencies “quirks.” I call them habits. I like my shit clean.
“In the office,” I yell back.
Footsteps approach seconds before there’s a rapid knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Lyam opens the door and enters with our friend, Mario Rossi. Youngest brother of the Rossi family in America, we became friends a few years ago over a trade our brothers initiated. We agreed it would be useful having mutual friends overseas, for both of us, and we weren’t wrong.
“Rossi,” I say warmly, extending my hand to shake his. “Didn’t expect you tonight.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to be in until next week, but duty called, and Romeo sent me out early. Grabbed the first flight out.”
The Rossi family has business in Tuscany, a short flight from here, and since we formed an alliance, they’ve begun to do business in Paris as well.
“You know you’re welcome here anytime.”
“You know why he’s here. Who wants a hotel when you can eat at Chez Gerard?”
The Rossis are sort of famous for their bottomless appetites and love of good food.
Mario playfully punches his arm, and Lyam dodges a second jab.
“I won’t lie,” Mario begins. “It’s true. So have you taken over here since Fabien tied the knot?”
I shake my head and walk toward the exit. “Not really. I was taking over business and surveillance before then. It’s just better to have me here now that Fabien’s traveling more.” And going off the grid and spending time with his wife.
For days and full weekends at a time.
I lead them to the door so I can lock up.
“Makes sense.”
“You want a drink?”
“You know it. Brought a case of wine from Tuscany to your mother.”
“Alright, then not only are you welcome, you can move in,” Lyam says.
The Rossi family wine from Tuscany is the best I’ve ever had.
I shut and lock the door to the office, one of the best rooms in this large, rambling house of ours. Though we each have residences in Corsica and privately, we always manage to meander back to our family home in Paris. Makes sense, though, since Paris is the hub for so much of the work we do.
“How’s married life treating you?” Lyam asks.
Mario grins. “Gloria’s amazing.”
“Been a while now?”
“Few years, yeah.” He chuckles. “You next, Thayer? I heard Fabien’s a goner.”
Me? Marriage?
“Oh hell, no.”
There’s a reason why every woman I’ve ever been with has been a member of Le Luxe. Le Luxe, the most exclusive club in Corsica—hell, the only master/slave club in Corsica, is my primary place of business, so I haven’t taken a partner in a long time.
Women at the club don’t require affection. They don’t require aftercare, or coddling, or any of the other bullshit a real relationship requires.
They live to serve. They know their needs are met.
Good enough for me.
The house is quiet as we walk down the hall. The housekeepers and staff have either gone to bed or left for the day, and Maman goes to bed early, so it’s just us here. It feels strange that Fabien isn’t here like he used to be. Family dynamics always change when people get married, have children.
I’m not sure I like change. I like things predictable, neat, and ordered.
We head to the living room, where my father insisted we install a full bar. Lyam’s been mixing drinks since he was twelve.
“What’s your drink, Rossi?”
Mario grins. “When in Rome…”
Lyam fancies himself a mixologist, so he waves his magic wand and hands us both a few potent concoctions. I have no idea what they are, but I’m not complaining. I sigh after the first sip. I didn’t know how badly I needed that.
“You know,” Mario says almost casually, but I don’t miss the sharp glint in his eyes. “In America, a married man is a made man.”
“Same here,” Lyam says. I glare at him but he’s pouring a drink and misses it.
“Makes you more powerful. You get a wife and kids and you—”
“Might as well get shackles,” I finish. Lyam laughs but Mario winces and shakes his head.
“I’m serious, Thayer. This outfit is new. Of the three of you, only one is married. You know if you marry a woman no one can touch her. You’re a unit. Indivisible.”
I try to divert the subject.
“You were always the player,” I say. “You used to show up with a woman on each arm. What happened?”
The front door booms with a thudding, frantic flurry of knocks, followed by the doorbell ringing.
I’m on my feet instantly, my heart racing.
Another frenzied knocking follows the first. I hear my mother’s bedroom door open and her rapid footfalls as she races to the landing.
Tension mounts in the air, but I keep my head and check my weapon.
The last time we got hurried knocks this late at night, Fabien had been shot.
Something is wrong. Everyone knows who lives in this house, and no one, not even a well-meaning neighbor or salesperson, ever knocks on this door uninvited.
I get to the door first, Lyam and Maman right behind me. Mario stands behind us, his hand on his weapon. Lyam is armed as well.
I yank open the door and almost immediately fall backward when I’m tackled by a bundle of a woman. She grabs at me and hauls herself to standing. She’s all tangled hair and torn clothing, but I know exactly who she is the second those mahogany eyes look into mine.
Normally artless and serene, as innocent as a dew-kissed flower at sunrise, she now looks at me with utter terror. Panic has swept the color from Savannah’s face, and the grip on my arm’s so tight it’s painful.
I catch her before she falls.
I hold her.
No.
I fight the urge to push her behind me and race into the night, gun drawn, to bring justice to whoever chased her here. To kill whoever made her cry. But heroics and impulsivity don’t mix, and it isn’t the way I do things. So I draw in a breath and let it out slowly as I bring her into the house.
“Go,” I snap at Lyam, who races in front of me with his gun drawn, calling on our guards.
As soon as she realizes she’s clinging to me, she releases her hold as if touching me burns her hands. She blinks in the brightness of the overhead lights and wrings her hands.
“Thayer! Oh, God, Thayer!” She spares a second to look over her shoulder. “Shut the door!” she says with a strangled cry. “Lock the gates! Hurry!” I reach for the door to slam it as she does the same, making her clumsily fall against it. Lyam’s out there, but he can handle himself.
Maman reaches us and gently takes her from me as I make the call.
“Close the gates. All circuits on standby. Weapons ready.”
Mario steps in front of me as Lyam returns. “All clear for now but I’ve only checked the front gate. Come with me, Rossi?”
I shake my head. “Before anyone does anything, we need to find out what’s going on. Then you two can go.” With Fabien gone, I’m the one Lyam obeys and as our guest, Mario does the same. They wait, like leashed guard dogs frothing at the mouth. Lyam practically paws the ground in front of him.
I stand Savannah upright in front of me. “Tell me what happened. I want to know everything before they go out, so tell me why you’re here.”
She draws in a breath and speaks in a rush of words. “I saw a police officer murdered and the murderers are chasing me.”
I feel my eyebrows rise. I jerk my chin to Mario and Lyam. “Go.”
Maman covers her mouth with her hand as the door slams behind them.
I reach for Savannah’s hand but pull back. I held her when she fell, but I won’t let myself touch her. I can’t.
She’s the baby sister of my sister-in-law. We’re practically related.
She’s ten years younger than you.
“Let’s go in the other room. I want to know everything. Every detail you can remember.”
“She’s hurt, Thayer,” Maman says pleadingly, her arm around Savannah’s shoulders. I look down at her torn clothing. Her knees are covered in gravel and blood. My anger becomes a blistering fury, clawing at me like a monster with talons and fangs.
I’ll kill them.
I will find whoever scared her and threatened her and they will die a painful, torturous death.
I turn my fury on Savannah. “I thought you were with Fabien and Nicolette. Why are you alone? What happened?”
She flinches as if slapped, what little color that had been left on her face now gone. She blanches when she mumbles her reply on a half cry. “I saw someone murdered,” she repeats in a choked voice. “I… I got lost. I was with them, yes, but they left on their flight to Italy, and I walked home.”
She’s making no sense. I can’t shake the truth out of her. So I stifle a growl that will only scare her and nod, trying to stay calm.
“Go on.”
“There was… a woman. She was all tied up and gagged and screaming.”
“Where were you?”
“I—I don’t know. I got lost. My phone was dead.”
I grit my teeth. A lecture won’t help right now.
“I was behind some kind of a pub. I saw them and they saw me. I didn’t know what to do. An officer came and they—they killed him. Right there. I don’t know what happened after that. I ran.”
“Did they find you?”
“Not at first. Please, Thayer, lock your gates. I’m so afraid they were following me.
I heard—I saw—I don’t know what I saw. I hid for hours until I was so cold, and I thought they were gone.
I remembered where you were near the Seine, so I made my way here, and I swear—I swear they followed me, Thayer. ”
She looks over her shoulder as if chased by a ghost and takes an involuntary step toward me.
I try to gentle my voice and fail. “If they followed you, they won’t get you now.”
Maman speaks up. She does what I wouldn’t dare to do—runs a hand down the back of Savannah’s wild hair and smoothes it down.
“Hush, mon amore,” she whispers. “Come tell us what happened, and we—” When she pauses, she corrects what she was about to say.
“You’re safe here. Believe me when I tell you, Thayer won’t let anyone hurt you.
Even if someone did manage to get past Lyam and Mario, no one will get past Thayer.
” She lowers her voice and swallows before she finishes. “And I do mean no one, love.”
Savannah nods.
“Sit.” I stifle the need to snap my fingers.
We’re not in Le Luxe.
Savannah is not my slave.
Hell, she’s not even my submissive.
Still, when she sits and lays her hands in her lap, she looks at me and my heart turns over in my chest.
I don’t care that she’s beautiful.
I don’t care that she’s dainty and graceful and everything I love in a woman.
I don’t admire her perfect, shapely legs, or the way her lips part when she’s afraid, or the long, sensitive fingers that graze her neck when she swallows…
Aw, hell.
I admire everything about her.
I don’t remember staff coming in the room and handing me the first aid kit. I find it in my hands. Normally, in serious emergency situations like this I’d let staff handle it, but the thought of anyone but me touching her…
I can’t touch her.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m kneeling in front of Savannah.
“Thayer, allow me,” Maman offers.
No.
“I’ve got it, Maman. Like you said, she’s safe now. I’ll make sure no one hurts her.”
Ignoring my suggestion, Maman sits on the couch next to Savannah and reaches for her hand. “Can I get you anything?”
Savannah looks at Maman and her lower lip quivers. Maman reaches over to her and embraces her. She runs her hand down the length of Savannah’s hair over and over until Savannah releases a shuddering sigh.
“Maman, why don’t you have the staff prepare her a room?”
Maman lets her go. “I’ll do that,” she whispers to her. “Thayer, if you need anything at all, call me.”
I nod as I open the first aid kit. My mind is reeling with the details she told me.
If she was at Avelline’s, this is a lot worse than she even knows.
Last year, the Lyon family was arrested for a dual murder in the alley outside the restaurant.
It was the first time we realized their enemies and ours frequented the establishment.
I’ll ask her for more details, but right now, I tend to her wounds.
Maman leaves.
Mario and Lyam have yet to return.
Staff retreats when I give them a look that makes them scurry.
Savannah and I sit alone in the living room.
“Now tell me,” I say, as I lift her leg to examine her injury. “Tell me everything you remember. Start from the beginning.”