Chapter 20 – Ferrin
FERRIN
I’m in the room directly across from the princess, but it might as well be no space between us at all for the way I’m watching her fucking door.
Something tells me she won’t simply stay in her room to eat, and I’m proven right when I see her door open, and she steps out in the dress she bought yesterday.
She looks beautiful in it, and she has her hair parted differently so that it covers the bruised side of her face. I watch through the peephole as she shuts the door behind her and heads for the stairs. I count to twenty and follow after.
I wish she hadn’t gone out. I know Lars is lurking, and I’m positive he’s looking for her. I don’t know if he knows she’s the princess—if she even is, but how can she not be?—or not, but it doesn’t matter. He wants to fuck me over, and he wants his payday.
Sven will hang back and is likely searching for Marie. They’re a divide-and-conquer duo, so I’m not worried about that.
I head outside and spot Genevieve up ahead.
She’s strolling, going slow, and I stay close to the buildings.
I don’t have a hoodie on or anything that would hide me because people look harder when you dress like that.
Look like everyone else, and no one pays you much attention.
I am wearing prosthetics, though. A nose, teeth, and glasses.
Even so, if she turned and looked, she’d likely still recognize me.
She goes straight for the wine bar because of course she fucking does.
Everyone who passes her does a double take.
Male or female, it doesn’t matter. She’s that sort of beautiful and has a certain air about her.
It makes my teeth clench. I could have been with her tonight.
I could have held her close and smelled her neck before I kissed it.
I like fucking, but I never cared much about the other stuff.
I liked kissing her. I could have kissed her for days without getting bored. The way her mouth moved, the sounds she made, and how she held onto me. She made my pulse race. She made me sweat. I got swept up in a way I never have before. It’s why I didn’t notice the cop pulling up behind us.
I wish I could have kissed her after she tasted her cum. Felt it on my cock or fingers or tongue. I don’t like her out here all alone, even with me watching.
The restaurant is up ahead, and she walks in with a confidence that makes me smile.
I wait outside, searching everywhere. I don’t see him.
Not yet. I do another twenty count and approach, peering in the door.
The restaurant is chic and a little upscale.
It’s pretty. So unlike the dive I took her to last night.
They seat her at the bar, and I release a frustrated breath.
It’s crowded, but she would have done better at a table.
Why is she at the bar? Is she hoping to meet someone? Get hit on and go home with a random guy? I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries.
I enter the restaurant and head up to the hostess, keeping my back angled toward the bar. “One, please,” I tell her.
“Bar or table?”
“Table, please. Something in the back.”
“This way.”
She leads me back through the restaurant to a table in the corner with a good vantage point of the bar.
The waiter comes over and blocks my view of her as he greets me and starts to go over specials I don’t give two shits about.
“I’ll have a glass of pinot noir and the arancini,” I cut him off as I work to look around him.
Thankfully he gets the hint and fucks off to get my order, and I can see her once more.
She’s all smiles as she orders food and prosecco and talks with the bartender.
He makes her laugh, and I see red. I don’t want him talking to her, but there’s nothing I can do about it short of storming over there.
The bartender moves on to another customer, and my princess’s food is delivered. Just as I start to relax and take a bite of mine, a man with blazing orange-red hair sits beside her, and my grip on my fork tightens to the point of indenting my palm.
Does he know I’m here? Did he see me? I’m in the corner in a bit of a shadow, but if he knows what he’s doing, he would have seen me. Then again, he likely saw her alone and went straight for her. I have no doubt he knows who she is.
He chats her up, and she responds in kind with a timid smile and reserved body language. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it doesn’t matter. He’s here to take her. Or kill her.
I pay my bill and leave through the back without being seen. He doesn’t turn his head. He doesn’t so much as twitch.
Why wouldn’t he be looking for me? That doesn’t make sense. He knew I was in town. We had plans to meet right here, though he’s early. His back was to the room, to me, and not once did he check for anyone else.
I step out onto a different street and take the alley back to the main road, where the entrance to the restaurant is.
I glance up and down, marking each person, every alcove and alley, scanning for cameras.
Once I’m satisfied with my plan, I move to the corner of the restaurant window so I can peer in and watch them.
Motherfucker throws his arm around the back of her chair. He makes her laugh and engages her in conversation. And when he touches her hair and shoulder—the shoulder I kissed earlier today—I decide I no longer care about answers. I’m going to collect his soul tonight.
He picks up his phone, and a text comes through to me.
Lars: Change of plans. Meet me by Café Nola at eight thirty.
I check my watch: 7:42.
Me: Change of plans. I’m not meeting you. I got what I wanted and am long gone. The rest is yours to deal with. Or not. I don’t give a shit.
He reads my message, and I can see the amusement on his face.
He knew I wasn’t going to meet him. He doesn’t seem surprised.
And he didn’t look for me. He thinks I’m already gone, but why, unless she spoke to her mother.
That’s the only thing I can come up with.
They’re working closely together on this.
I need his phone. I need to know what’s happening between him and Sven, and I need to know what he’s texting the woman.
But more than that, I need him to get the fuck away from Genevieve.
He leans in and whispers something in her ear, and I watch her draw back and shake her head. She doesn’t like his advances.
Good girl.
He says something else, and she gives him another head shake and stands. She puts some cash on the bar and hastily heads toward the exit. Lars scurries out of his chair, drops cash down, and does the same, quickly coming in behind her.
I duck back into the narrow alley I came through and angle so I can peek around the building while staying in the shadow.
“Let me walk you back to your hotel,” he demands, not asking it as a question. “It’s late, and a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Then she pauses. “Wait. I didn’t tell you I was staying in a hotel.”
He chuckles as if she just nailed him, which she did. Fucking idiot. “I can tell you’re not from around here. It’s not a big deal. I’m going in that direction anyway.”
“You don’t know where I’m staying.”
“There’s only one hotel in town. Really, I wouldn’t feel right about you walking alone.”
She starts off, and he stays directly beside her, despite her protests.
I slip out of the alley, keeping tight and low to the buildings, my steps silent. The hotel is up three blocks, but there’s another alley before it, and I know that’s where he’s going to make his move. If she reaches the hotel, he’ll never be able to take her.
There are people across the street, and the coffee shop he said he wanted to meet at is on the next corner. It’s relatively busy here, likely leading up to the festival on Friday, so for now, he has to push himself along beside her despite her protests.
“How about another drink?” he offers, keeping way too fucking close to her.
“I’m tired.”
I catch the side of his smile as he drags an aw-shucks hand through his hair. “Women don’t typically say no to me.”
“Seems to be a common theme with men I’ve met lately.”
I smile to myself at that. My feisty girl.
“Come on. One drink. We’ll talk. Nothing more.”
She quickens her steps, and I move in closer, no longer giving a fuck if either of them spots me. He’s making her uncomfortable. Probably scaring her.
This time, she doesn’t answer.
“Did I do something wrong?” he presses, playing another angle.
He’s not as good at this game as I am. Not as charming.
Way too aggressive. We’ve done two jobs together in the last six months, and I’ve been the one who’s gone in and done the social interactions with both of them.
Sven is the computer guy and completely antisocial.
Despite the fact that they’re twins, Lars is the muscle. The ruthless one.
The killer.
It’s why he’s here, and Sven is out looking for the sister. Lars is also as dumb as a brick and usually high as hell on weed, which I’m hoping he is now because it’ll make his reactions slower.
My plan was to watch her from a distance.
Then fucking Lars had to show up, and there’s no way she won’t see me if he makes his move and I have to step in with her there.
Except the more I see her, the longer I watch her, I want her to see me.
I want her to yell at me for being an asshole because that means I upset her, and she feels something. Something real.
She’s seen me and wanted me anyway. I’ve never had that before. Not with anyone, and I fucked it up. Genevieve and I are going to have to have a serious conversation after this. She has no reason to trust me. And I’ve never trusted anyone before. Not ever.
But my princess is different. Everything about her is to me.
“Come on. Tell me. What did I do wrong?”
“Not listen when I told you I wasn’t interested. Now scram.”