Page 14 of Stone
Now I was weaving in and out of people, trying my best not to push anyone to the ground even as fear settled in. I’d always considered myself observant, paying attention to my surroundings. That had been ingrained in me over the years, especially given the fact my father had been and continued to be a public figure. He’d had more death threats than the Pope. When the threats had occurred, the entire family had been put into lockdown.
That’s why I knew in my gut something was wrong.
However, I’d lived happily alone in Paris for almost ten years without a single incident. No one knew or cared who my father was. At first, I’d been that American girl. Then I’d become the transplant with a heart. Then the artist with flair.
Now I was simply accepted as one of them.
I took longer strides, doing my best not to panic. He was still there. Still following me, but it seemed he was getting closer. I scanned the street, also noticing a dark sedan was creeping along almost maintaining the same speed the man was walking.
Parisians were used to idiots on the road, swerving around the slow-moving vehicle, only a few bothering to honk their horns.
My breath caught in my throat and I knew I had to figure out a way of hiding. When a crowd of people formed after coming out of a jazz club, I took the opportunity and moved into the store next to it, a coffee shop I knew well.
I backed away from the window, hugging the wall. For a few seconds, I didn’t see anything and almost thought I’d lost my mind. Then the man in the trench coat passed. Now he was walking much more slowly. I crept further into the shadows and I had to do everything in my power to keep from hyperventilating.
My heart was in my throat. Suddenly, all the hostage training I’d received over the years didn’t mean a thing. I could barely think clearly. My apartment was only three blocks away, but the last thing I wanted to do was draw the stranger’s attention to where I lived. Since he was following me, it was possible whoever was stalking me had no clue about the address.
Ugh. This was not good. If I called the police, what could I say to them? Some guy in dark clothing might or might not be following me?
When a few minutes passed and I didn’t see him passing by the window a second time, I scanned the small store. There was a back door leading to another street. There was also a back entrance to the apartment building. I certainly couldn’t stay here all night long.
I took another look before heading down the dark corridor to the door. After taking a deep breath, I gently opened the heavy piece of steel, darting my head outside. I looked both ways but didn’t see the man or the sedan. I slipped out, walking quickly and kept close to the buildings.
Suddenly, footsteps.
Panic rose like bile in my throat and I didn’t bother looking, taking off running. Since I didn’t hear a change in the pattern of the person behind me, maybe I was hallucinating. Still, I refusedto stop, finally looking over my shoulder just as I made a turn toward my building.
A hand was slapped over my mouth preventing me from screaming. I reacted instantly as the person tried to drag me off my feet. I slammed the heel of my pump into his foot. While he cursed in French, his hold remained strong.
He managed to drag me several feet and I heard tires squeal. Flailing, I jammed my elbow into the assailant’s gut before biting his hand. This time he howled, his hold snapping away. I lunged forward, managing to get off a single violent cry before he slammed his fist against the side of my head, knocking me down.
Dazed, I fought the horrible haze forming around my eyes as pain blasted through my head.
“Espèce de stupide pute, tu vas payer pour ça.”
You stupid whore, you’ll pay for that.
His voice was gruff, guttural, and the man was pissed. He fisted my hair, dragging me to my feet. I tried to fight, managing to punch him in the stomach, but his hold was too strong and the anguish too blinding.
Hissing, he cursed again as the sedan was jerked to a stop, another man shouting orders I couldn’t understand.
As I was dragged toward the car, I did everything I could to fight them.
“Bon sang. Fais-lui juste l’injection.”
Goddamn it. Just give her the injection.
“No,” I managed, still fighting and I knew it was for my life.
He proved too strong for me. I wiggled and moaned even after I felt a prick in my neck.
I was dumped into the trunk, the door slammed just as I began to lose consciousness.
As my world faded to black, a face appeared in my mind’s eye. His handsome, rugged face.
The face of the only man I’d ever loved.
CHAPTER 5
