Page 2 of Deranged
Field laughed. “Good plan. I’ve not had nearly enough alcohol to deal with all the love in the air.”
Fabrice reached over the counter—like he was the boss of the bar. He grabbed a full bottle of vodka and set it in front of Field. “A good Russian drink for the Russian."Santé.”
“Is that your way of telling me to get lost?”
A hint of confusion crossed Fabrice’s features. “Not at all. You look like a man who doesn’t want company.”
Now Field felt like shit. He hated it when people could read him. Most people accepted every smile at face value. Occasionally, people were better at picking up the vibes he couldn’t always hide.
Field ignored the bottle. “You know what? Fuck that.” He was good at reading vibes too. Fabrice wasn’t the best at letting go. He was the guy in the corner. The wallflower who wanted to join but didn’t know how. Field grabbed his hand. “You’ve stood here too long.” Field headed for the dance floor, practically dragging Fabrice behind him. Fabrice spoke in rapid French, but while Field spoke several languages, he didn’t speak that. He gathered the guy protested in some way. Since Field couldn’t understandhim, he chose to ignore his wishes. In seconds, Fabrice was stiff in his arms.
“I don’t normally dance.”
“Welp. You are tonight.” Field fought a laugh at the horror in Fabrice's expression.
“I’ll likely step on your toes.”
A part of Field’s usual facade fell away. He understood insecurity. “Look at me. Do I look like someone you can hurt by stepping on?”
Fabrice’s gaze moved over him. “You are rather large.”
A genuine laugh burst from Field. The only time he was happy for real was when he did things for other people. If he made everyone else smile or uplifted them in any way, then maybe he could keep going. Otherwise, he was a waste of space. As Fabrice had pointed out, a large amount of space.
“Did I insult you?”
Field realized his mask had slipped as his thoughts took a dive. “No. I’m sorry. Have you ever had one of those moments where you remembered something you forgot to do, completely out of the blue, and when you can’t do anything about it anyhow?”
“My job here is very hectic, sooui. All the time.”
Field spun while holding tightly to Fabrice, making the guy laugh. His smile was back for real. He wasn’t failing tonight. Field realized he had never really spoken a lot to Fabrice. “How long have you worked here?”
“Since I was a child.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve been here twenty-two years, I think. Not all of those were working years, of course. My uncle Pierre was the head chef here for most of his life. He is retired now and living his best life in a small cottage on the property. My parents passed when I was four and he is my only living family. Beau happily agreed to take me in the moment Pierre asked. His children were young back then, as well. We grew up together.” Fabrice nodded toward a pair of tall men. One had a very dark air about him. The other looked like a goofball and Field felt like he looked in a mirror. That image wasn’t totally real. “Boone and Banks. The angry-looking one is Boone. The one running around like an idiot is Banks. Don’t let either impression fool you.”
Field could imagine. They were the sons of a weapons dealer. The pair were probably just as capable of anything. Still, Field had been trying to learn more about Fabrice. Not Beau’s sons. “I suppose that means you’re very well regarded here. It always looks like everyone thinks of you as part of the family.”
An odd look crossed Fabrice’s features. “Everyone here is part of the family, including you.”
“You made that sound so ominous—like this is Hotel California.”
Fabrice laughed. His light blue eyes danced with humor. He was a good-looking guy. “You seem very observant. I’m surprised you haven’t realized it yet. This is a home of lost souls. There isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been homeless, poor, hungry, or isolated by the world. Speak to anyone and ask how they ended up here. Every single one has a story about how Beau snatched them from a life they don’t regret losing. You can’t buy loyalty like that. Maybe this is the Hotel California, as you say. But everyone here is here willingly and they’ll burn the world to stay here.”
Without thinking, Field’s gaze moved Henry’s way, automatically finding him in the crowd like he never lost sight of him. Henry was nearly the same age as Beau. He knew from insanely searching, Henrico Venturini had moved from his home country of Italy alongside Beau. From what he gathered from pieces of conversations, they had been poor and best friends. Beau had risen from poverty and taken Henry with him every step of the way. They were still best friends, and no one crossed Henry. He was every bit as much in charge here as Beau and would kill anyone who so much as looked at Beau wrong. His friendship and loyalty were unshakable. None of that fully explained the ice that constantly poured from Henry. The guy had lived a cushy life for decades. It didn’t sound like he had a reason to be such a bastard. It was whatever, though. Field had blown better. Henry was no one to him.
Chapter Two
Roamingthehallsatnight had always been Henry’s thing. He had never had much luck sleeping. Maybe he just didn’t feel safe enough to sleep until he had checked things a million times before heading home. It was possible some people just weren’t meant to get any rest until they were dead. Who knew? He had given up trying to figure it out a long time ago.
Henry made his final rounds of the property. There was something in the air tonight that left him feeling uneasy. Likely, it was just the wedding and having so many guests and the security nightmare that went along with that. Either way, the property was on lockdown, and everyone was at their posts. Tracker had made the place a hell of a lot safer with all his high-tech gadgets. There was just something crawling up his spine and making the hair stand on the back of his neck. It was like the air held its breath. When Henry hit the stairs to make his final rounds of the upper floors, he heard it. Screams, shouting, and banging poured from an upstairs bedroom. Henry ran atfull pace with his gun drawn. All the bedroom doors were open. Shadow and Ridge stood outside Field’s bedroom looking in. Thankfully, Henry was tall enough to see over Shadow’s head. Field was in full meltdown mode. Henry watched in horror. In nothing but pajama pants, Mickey held Field against him with Field’s back against his chest and the guy’s arms pinned to his sides. Field fought like a madman to get away. Henry saw the rabid animal in Field’s every line while Edge tried shouting over the wild noises he made.
Mickey spoke quietly against Field’s ear, making calming noises and begging Field to calm down. Only the fact that Mickey matched Field in size and muscle saved everyone from being torn to shreds. No one seemed to even notice Henry.
“It’s time to call Zeus.” Shadow sounded so brokenhearted as he made the claim.
Ridge nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Tracker appeared from nowhere. “Already done. He’s on his way.”
Everyone stood by in helpless horror. The breakdown lasted so long, Henry thought about knocking him out. He knew Mickey had to be exhausted and Henry wasn’t sure how much longer Mickey’s strength would hold out. Then Field just went limp.
