Chapter 35 Harrison
HARRISON
The next morning, as we finish breakfast in the glass enclosure with ferns, a speaker crackles. A voice then comes through. “Sir?”
I walk to the estate radio and lift it. “Speak,” I say, feeling Samantha’s eyes on me.
“Sir, we’ve found someone at the front gate. Trying to get in.”
“One minute,” I say, while walking to the window to look out. I lift the binoculars and hold then steady.
Samantha stands and stops next to me. “Security,” I say low.
Leaning in, she talks low. “I didn’t know we have security.”
“That’s the point, and they’re good,” I say, walking towards the lobby. Samantha follows, and I lift the radio. “Got a name?”
“Sir, he won’t give one, and he’s clearly not paparazzi or lost.”
“Well, what does he look like?” I ask as we walk into the lobby. Samantha and I lean on the round lobby table that always has the displays of cut roses.
“Heavy energy. Californian numberplate.”
Samantha sighs, and I rub a temple. “Let me guess. Heavy tattoos on his hands and arms.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I growl, and Samantha mouths, “Sorry.”
“Be right there,” I say coldly, walking quickly into the jacket and boot room next to the lobby.
“Harry,” Samantha yells chasing after me. “Please, don’t go out.”
“That is not going to happen, babe. But you can come if you like.”
“I like, but what are you doing?”
I pull off my white linen shirt and tanned slacks, and I yank on old jeans, a black T-shirt that is hanging up, and some black army boots. It’s my outdoor working gear.
If I need to fight him for her and prove a point, now is the time. Knife. Fists. Guns.
Whatever.
She is mine, and that son of a bitch needs to know.
I walk out of the chateau fast, and Samantha runs after me. We climb into the old Land Rover and drive in silence. Halfway there, Samantha’s hand grabs me. “Please, let me handle it.”
I don’t answer. I will protect what is mine, like I always have, and like I always will. I will also do what is necessary, and whatever it takes.
I will protect her above all.
It takes us five long minutes to drive over the three fixed bridges, and it takes us five long minutes to get all the way down the long drive to the front gates.
As I finally hit the brakes, the 4WD slides in the mud. We are at the main gates with the lion statues on either side.
My three ex-SEALs do not move. They are all dressed in black, and they are focused on a figure next to a V8. They are lined up, blocking his entry.
Normally, the ex-SEALs are peppered around the estate and hidden in perfect positions, monitoring unseen electronic alarms.
I nod on seeing them, and they watch me for my lead as I walk up. Her dipshit ex looks tough, but he also looks agitated. As he sees me, he lifts his chin defiantly.
Samantha has trouble catching up with me, but she finally overtakes me and rounds to block me. “Give me a minute!” Sam demands, trying to get my attention.
“I don’t want you talking to him,” I say, focused on them both.
“I can see that, just back me up.”
Sam spins and walks towards him. She is only ten feet away from him, and I yank her belt. She stops next to me. It’s close enough.
She is at a distance I can still protect her, and that is the limit. I’ve been through a lot, and I don’t need more chaos or death.
I’ve learnt the hard way to protect what is mine.
The hood is leaning against his dirty black V8, swilling some stupid energy drink. He looks wired.
Standing next to a big ex-SEAL, I inhale, ready for action. I feel metal pressed against the back of my right hand, and I pause.
I rotate my hand, unseen, and I know it’s not a gun. They have guns, they are trained. I am not.
It is a slim steel baton that can move with incredible speed and power. It is designed to break bones and to encourage peace.
Fast!
I keep the bar hidden behind my leg, and the three ex-SEALs fan out. If the hood tries anything, he will not get far. And if he does, he will get well fed. Fed to Tusk.
“Lucas, you shouldn’t be here,” Sam says, her voice unsteady.
The hood raises his chin and spits, “We got unfinished business.”
I want to break every bone in his skinny-arsed body, and I click my neck.
If he does attack, I know it will be three fast steps to reach him, and on the third, I will deliver the steel and shatter both his arms, fast.
I also know I first need Sam low and spinning behind me. I then need to protect her body with mine at all costs.
That means, for a long second, maybe two, my body would shield her, but it may also take a blade, a bullet, or a broken bottle.
“Lucas, we’re finished. You need to move on,” Sam pleads.
“And New York is not that safe,” one of my ex-SEALs says flatly.
“Bad things happen,” one of the others tosses in.
“Very bad things,” ex-SEAL three says, deep, and menacing.
“You think you can just heavy me out?” the hood says, standing up.
I inhale, slow and long, ready for action. I then step forwards, getting ready to protect my girl.
She is half a foot ahead of me, and I have a hand down the back of her jeans. I can yank her back behind me like lightning.
“Where you are, on the road, you are protected by the law,” I say coldly, “but if you set foot on this property or anywhere near it, alarms go off. Then, anything goes. And I mean anything.”
The hood laughs loudly, and enough is enough. Using my hand, I pull Samantha just behind me.
The biggest ex-SEAL steps next to me, and he is now at my hip. Samantha is safely behind us.
We have him.
“Look, pal, I only have one job in the world now, and it’s this,” I say. “Protecting my family. That is my only priority. The same as you do, no doubt, with yours. Samantha is now mine. She knows it, and I know it. In fact, soon the world will know it. It will be that way forever. End of story.”
I stand strong and try to remain calm.
“Now. Please. Go find another.”
I know Samantha’s eyes will be on me now, and I know she will be surprised. I don’t care.
She is mine, and mine to protect.
The ex-SEAL next to me, and I, start to backstep. The other two ex-SEALs return to our sides, and like a Roman column, they protect our front.
If he has a gun, he will get cut down, and fast.
The ex-SEALs form a protective wall, their hands resting on their hips, and inside their jackets. Inches from their perfectly prepared weapons.
I yank Samantha towards the Land Rover and command her sternly, “Get in the car.”
“What?”
“Get in!”
I open her door, and she gets slowly in. Outside, the hood gets into his black fastback. After starting the rugged old V8, he does a one-eighty.
He then blasts off, leaves flying. I stand next to the ex-SEALs, my inner radar turned to full. “Nice work. Please double the shifts for a week and bring in three more to assist you. Then hire the usual investigation unit and ask them to track his car for three months.
“Consider it done.”
Climbing into the Land Rover, I exhale.
“All okay?” Sam asks, nervous.
“It is now.”
As we drive through the trees, around the lake, and towards the chateau, I start to calm. That is when Sam looks over. “The forever bit.”
I say nothing.
“Do you mean it?”
I stop in front of the chateau and say nothing. I open her door and walk her to the chateau’s large door. Pausing, I hold it open for her. “Samantha, you were mine the first time I saw you. And you’ve been mine ever since.”
Sam gives me a strange look, but I don’t care. I will never love another, and this is it.
“You are mine, Samantha. And you will be mine forever.”
Sam steps into my chateau, and I close the door. I know what I need in my life, and she is it. She is mine!
After hot showers and coffees to cleanse the energy, we pack to drive to NYC. We then debate whether to take the safe strong newer Bentley or the old racing green convertible Jaguar.
Samantha wins the debate, and the Jag it is.
“It’s a long way, woman,” I say. “And it’ll be windy and harder to talk.”
“You need to live in the now!” Sam says, tossing things in the back.
“I’ll remind you of that if it rains.”
We both look up, and she is lucky the sky is blue.
“Don’t tempt fate,” she says.
“Yeah, because the Gods listen,” I say, giving her a brow.
“We don’t actually know that yet,” she says, as we place things in the car.
Suddenly, Sam leaps into the driver’s seat, and I cross my thick arms. “Out!”
“You need to navigate,” Sam says, pulling on her sexy black sunglasses. She then tugs on the new black gloves we just got her. She is wearing a black pullover with a red scarf, and she looks chic.
I shake my head as William walks over. “Back in a couple of days,” I say.
“And with some gifts for you!” Sam says, adding to the chaos.
“Jolly good,” William says, “we do like gifts.”
“We do,” Samantha says. “We do indeed!”
I shake my head at the two comics as I sit down. I am now low in the Jag’s passenger seat, and I slide the unseen 9mm pistol under the seat.
The ex-SEAL’s gift is now inches from my hand.
Like any good navigator, I pull my Ray-Bans on. “Stop flirting with William. I’ve told you before, he does not bed peasants.” I point forwards and toss in, “Onwards, driver.”
“Hey!”
Sam slaps my shoulder as we move forwards. She next salutes William, flicks her scarf behind her, and revs the Jag loudly.
“Dear God!” I sigh. Samantha then drops the clutch. Pebbles fly, and William jumps quickly back. “Easy, woman!” I yell over the poor engine.
“Shush,” my driver huffs. “Learn to live a little. Everything needs a good thrashing now and then.”
We share a look, and I shake my head. “It’s going to be hard to break you,” I say. “You really need to start to follow the rules.”
Sam laughs as we streak along the side of the lake. “As if you have a chance in hell at that.”
I remember back to when I tried to fuck her senseless. To stop her treating me as the help when I was forced to be her butler for the day. It was hard, and her spirit was strong.
As we blast along the small road and through the leaves, I think. And I think about what she had just said.
Maybe she was right, and maybe, just maybe, I like the idea. Maybe a more unpredictable life is healthy. As long as it’s this… with her.