Golden bristled and while I studied the perimeter, I noticed a detective unit had arrived. For the murder of a thief?
A number of police were on the scene, which seemed odd. There weren’t enough officers in the city of Paris to warrant this kind of response.
As I stood a few feet away, occasionally an opening in the crowd allowed me to witness what was being done. Seconds later, I caught a glimpse of a couple of wallets and watches, the almost attack that I’d managed to escape indicating a mugging.
I still had my doubts. Especially with as cagey as the officers seemed. Or maybe my past was doing nothing more than colliding with my happy little world of today.
As I moved closer, I held my breath. With the ongoing activity, I was able to shift to where I was only a few feet away from the body. Two officers knelt, their voices low. When one of them lifted the sheet, I fought to keep from making a single sound. Whoever had killed him had sliced his jugular. One of the officers groaned, his voice getting louder, enough I overheard his disgruntled words. The unknown assailant’s head had almost been cut off from the act of violence.
That had taken technique, physical strength, and rage. Kazimir had all three attributes. The same question floated in my mind from before. Why now?
My entire body shivered as I stared at the blood. There was so much blood. A product of my world, but his? Yes. I was positive.
He’d wanted to protect me. Just like he’d promised. What now? What were the lengths he’d go to?
Tingles lingered, but not just because of the horror I’d just seen.
Also because of what Kazimir might have planned.
“Come on, baby. We’re going home.” As I left the scene, I constantly scanned the area. Why did I have a feeling I was being watched?
With every few steps, another electric prod caused me to stop and search. Golden remained on edge, but only once tried to pull away.
There were three men across the street, not one of them looking in my direction. How odd that I felt a sense of disappointment.
I also had to think about the possibility my father was having me watched. The phone call out of the blue had been so out of the ordinary that I wouldn’t put anything past him. Sheer panic settled in, a fear that I’d grappled with during so many long, lonely nights.
This wasn’t the time to fall apart. Maybe I’d been a fool to stay in Paris, giving my father access.
I hurried my fur baby along, moving through an alleyway and taking a slightly different, longer route back to the apartment.
Just like I’d done with the man following me who now lay dead in the street.
My weapon.
From now on, I’d carry the Beretta with me wherever I went.
The two of us made it back to the apartment without any additional fanfare. Once inside, I made certain every window was locked, the bolt slipped on the door.
From there, I stared out the window for ten minutes before feeling confident I hadn’t been followed. Not that it meant very much.
I moved to my room, yanking a special shoebox off the shelf. I’d hidden the weapon I’d purchased inside a pair of flurry slippers. Golden watched me the entire time I was grabbing the ammunition I’d bought, her tail thumping once when I slapped the magazine into place.
Once finished, I leaned against the closet door, taking several deep breaths.
Meanwhile, my fur baby seemed very interested in something on the floor.
“What do you have, girl?” Her little feet padded on the wooden floor as she tried to get away from me. I laughed more from nervousness than anything else when she forced me to follow her into the living room. “Drop it.”
Her huffing sound was out of frustration, but she dropped the item. As soon as I snatched it off the floor, I laughed. My purple thong. Evidently, it had slipped from the laundry basket onto the floor. Jesus. My nerves were getting the best of me.
With a heavy groan, I turned to take it to the bathroom when something else caught my eye. Kazimir’s face I’d sketched.
Another knot formed in my stomach as I headed to my makeshift desk and picked it up. I fingered his features while remembering as much of the time spent with him as possible.
How funny that I’d tried to do exactly as he asked, shutting down the beautiful memories. Now, all I wanted was to be reminded of everything that had occurred over the eight days I’d known the man.
Including how he’d touched me.
