Bastard. Like I’m going to risk them shooting her?
“Would you like me to decant the wine, sir?” She stares at Gavin, chewing gum.
“Please,” he smiles, the smarmy motherfucker.
As she’s laying out the plates and taking the lids off to show the food, she narrates the dishes with a tone that makes her disinterest clear. When her gaze sweeps over to me, I tap eight fingers on my knees. She blows a bubble and dips one eye into the slightest of winks.
“Will there any anything else, sir?”
Gavin’s still looking her over, smirking like he thinks she’s hitting on him. He’s not a bad-looking guy, silver hair on his temples and he still works out. Attractive, until you know what he is. “Well… maybe later,” he smiles charmingly.
This asshole is setting up a flirtation while he’s holding us a gunpoint? “Yeah, okay,” she says, pointedly holding out the room service bill. He signs it with a wink and she eyes it. “Oh, you can just add the tip here,” she points to an empty line on the bill.
Gavin Masters is worth maybe five hundred million dollars and the cheap fuck stiffed a room service bill? After waiting tables for the last eighteen months, I’d stab him in the throat, just for that.
The men walk around casually, helping themselves to the dining cart while Carmella, Nate, and I sit on the couch, watching them gobble down the lobster and a starfruit salad.
Catriona is here. If she’s here, Ethan is here. He followed me, even though I ran away. I’m trying not to smile, but I feel almost weightless with relief and happiness. However, these bastards are all still armed and I have to make sure Nate and Carmella don’t get hurt. Hopefully, Catriona knew what I meant with the eight fingers signal.
The front door opens again, this time revealing an irritable-looking banker type with four other bodyguards.
Shit. Twelve men now.
The guards hurry to clear off the dining room table and the man seats himself, smoothing his expensive suit and pulling a sheaf of papers from his briefcase.
“These are the heirs?” he asks, not bothering to look at us. Since he sees all the casually displayed guns, it’s obvious he knows this isn’t a simple family vacation.
“Yes, my dear children Nate and Sloan,” Gavin smiles at us beneficently and every atom in my body is yearning for that Glock in my backpack.
“We're notyourkids!” Nate snaps, “Not yours-”
Tony stalks over with his gun raised and I throw myself across my brother. “Touch him and I’ll tear your microscopic dick off.”
Everyone laughs at this but Tony, whose fingers tighten on his gun.
“Put it down,” Gavin calls irritably. “You’ll get your time. We have work to do first.”
Tony grins down at me and rubs his sad little crotch with his gun. God, I wish it would misfire right now. Because if he thinks he’s going to use his teeny dick on me, his life is going to be short and painful, even if I die too.
Someone gets the banker guy a drink, and he sips on it while he fans out a pile of documents.
“So, we’ll start with Mr. Nathan Masters. He’ll sign the release of the trust into your care and then-”
“No, the fuck he's not!” The banker guy's head shoots up and he stares at me, as if deeply offended I interrupted him.
“You will sign the papers, unless you want me to start by shooting Carmella. It’s not like we need her,” Gavin grins at me. I can see the madness cycling in his eyes. Where he used to beselfish and greedy, now he’s unhinged in a horrifying way. His entire being screams that he no longer cares who sees what he is, the monster shedding his skin suit.
Carmella does nothing, merely narrowing her eyes, but Nate puts his arms around her. “No, no, no! You leave her alone! You-”
“Shut up, you whiney little fuck!” Gavin shouts. “Neither one of you could just do as you were told! Well, now we will handle things with a judicious use of time and get this finished!” His face is red, spit flying from his mouth and I wonder how many of those scotches he’s already consumed.
Another knock on the door. My heart leaps, hoping this time, it’s Ethan with a boatload of MacTavishes with guns.
It’s not.
Another guy in an expensive suit with an expensive haircut and expensive cologne. He’s blond, short, and stocky and flashes a big grin with blocky white teeth. He's got his own little entourage of five more men.
Eighteen men now.
