Page 69 of One Filthy Kiss

“Sorry, ma’am. No can do.”

“How about you?”

The other men are all standing around watching the abandoned warehouses for a hint of movement. I’m aware that we’re wasting time. I’m also aware that I’m wasting my breath;they work for Gio, not me. But if I don’t try, I’ll never forgive myself.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

The answer is the same all around the group.

“Meg, we should go,” Ric says gently.

“No.”

I’m not ready to leave Gio behind. I replay in my head how he held me before we left his apartment, crushing me against his chest and then leaving without saying goodbye. He knew. He knew what he was doing, and he knew there was a chance that we might not see each other again.

It feels like a crushing weight pressing down on me, constricting my chest and making it difficult to breathe.

Without thinking, I pound Ric’s chest with my fists, realizing with sudden overwhelming clarity that he’s wearing some kind of body armor, and that Gio wasn’t when I last saw him.

“Take me to the airport! I’m not leaving without him, Ric. Take me back or I’ll find my own way there. Take me back! Please, Ric, please take me back…”

I’m sobbing uncontrollably.

Strong arms scoop me up and slide me onto the back seat of the car beside Amber, and I lay down, folding her into my arms. She stirs, rolls over, her eyelids flickering. There’s a moment of recognition before she closes them again and settles next to me, her face pressed up against mine.

Doors close.

The engine jerks to life.

The car starts moving, carrying me away from Gio, and I cry until I sink into a heavy, dreamless slumber.

It’s the middle of the night when we arrive in Stowe, Vermont. Ric carries Amber inside and settles her straight into the bed in the main bedroom, while I follow them around in a dry-eyed daze. There are whispered voices. Doors opening and shutting. Curtains being pulled shut.

Something feels wrong, but I have one foot planted knee-deep in the dreamscape of unconsciousness and I don’t quite latch onto it. Perhaps it’s my brain’s way of dealing with what happened when we left New York City, but I allow myself to be tucked up in bed beside Amber without fully appreciating our new surroundings.

It feels good to give into being helped, if only for a short while.

So, I sleep right through till morning.

When I wake up, Amber is gone.

I sit up abruptly, the room swimming while my brain cells play catchup. I’m still dressed. I don’t recognize the room, the pale walls, the heavy gold embroidered curtains that remind me of a princess dress from an old fairytale book, the matching gold comforter on the bed. There’s a solid wardrobe made with pale wood pressed up against one wall, a dressing table with a gilt-edged mirror, and snowy mountain scenes framed on three walls.

Then, it all comes flooding back to me.

The plan.

Demi.

The car chase.

Gio not meeting us at the rendezvous point.

“Amber!”

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, surprised when my legs buckle. I sway unsteadily, my head spinning with tiredness, and stumble across the room towards the door.

Voices reach me as I make my way along the hallway and into the open-plan kitchen where I find Amber sitting at a pine table eating waffles smothered with cream and berries. Ric is sitting next to her, a mug of coffee in front of him, and a coloring book between them with a pack of colored pencils. It’s the kind of domestic scene that Amber and I have only ever experienced together, and it feels off-kilter to see her sitting there with Ric, chatting about what her school in London serves for lunch.