Page 19 of Thorn

Jamming the car into drive, her foot pressed heavily on the gas pedal until she was nearly standing on it. Juliette was terrified as the wheels spun in place not moving her even an inch forward. Mud spewed out at the men as she watched them race forward where she could see them now in the side mirror.

She lifted her foot a bit to slow the engine, and the tires gripped. She shot off down the road and around the corner.

No bullets flew in her direction.

The man who owned this car would frantically be calling the police. If they stopped her would that keep her safe or put her in prison?

The road in front of her was swimming in her vision.

Stress always made the vertigo so much worse.

She just needed to get to a town where she could hide. She needed to figure out a plan.

What sheneededwas a miracle.

Chapter Eleven

Thorn

Brussels, Belgium

Saturday, Fifteen Zero Two Hours

Thorn pulled up to the valet in front of his hotel and popped the trunk. A uniformed man pulled the duffle from the back, another tugged Brigitte’s door open. As Thorn crossed to her side, he handed the keys over to the valet and gave his name.

“I need to get signed in,” he said as they walked through the heavy glass doors. “Do you want to meet me at the bar?”

“No.” She laced her fingers with his and shifted her body as if they’d been a couple for a very long time. “I want to go up to your room with you.” She was smiling playfully up at him, running a hand down his arm, and leaving a kiss on his shoulder.

Thorn’s dick got a heads up on that one.

He dealt with the desk and reached for his key card. “I’ll take it from here,” he said, handing a couple euro to the bell hop, who was waiting patiently to the side.

“You’re back on comms,” Nutsbe said.

Thorn coughed behind his fist to indicate he’d heard. He glanced down to find Brigitte smiling at him, then she winked.

Shit!She either had ESP, or she had someone feeding her the conversation in her ear. Nah, this was an encrypted channel. She’d probably just found his cough amusing, because she’d know he’d have comms up.

Thorn pulled out his phone and tapped an icon. No one could hear him now, but Nutsbe could talk. If he had to. Hopefully, he’d get the message and shut the hell up.

When they reached room 527, Thorn swiped the key card and pushed the door open, letting Brigitte go in first.

“Lovely,” she said, moving over to the heavy fabric drapes, standing to the side while she took in the view.

Thorn plunked his bag on the lowboy, slid his jacket off and placed it on top, then crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned his shoulder into the wall, watching Brigitte, waiting for some kind of a signal. How was this going to play out?

Brigitte turned and unabashedly let her gaze travel over his body. “I imagine after all the bustle today, that you’ll want to order room service. You have a big appetite, I’m told. Steak, rare. Lots of veggies.” Her heavily accented English made her words sound melodic. Maybe Siren-like was a better description. “Good for you. You eat healthfully, and it shows.”

“Did you call my mother to ask what I liked for dinner?” Okay, Thorn was getting a little ticked. If she knew things about him, she had leverage. For him, she was a great big question mark.

“Margot and I chat.”

“Margot?” That was an interesting connection.

“Your Panther Force teammate.” She rested her hand on the table, looking perfectly comfortable. Perfectly at home.

She had the rule book for this game; Thorn was making it up as he went along. “She chatted about me?” Margot wasn’t chatty. She was a professional. Thorn didn’t trust this conversation.

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