Page 88 of Icebound

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Why did we decide to go after Jean-Marc in the first place? Why didn’t we just accept our loss and move on?” Le Fauçon demanded.

“I had my reasons,” said Luc.

The contentious conversation was adding to her confusion. Why was Luc making the decisions, not the supposed mastermind of whatever they called themselves. She would have liked to ask, but the gag was still in place, digging into her mouth.

This time, she heard the loud thump, the sound of a body hitting the ground. Le Fauçon looked terrified, and even Luc swore. “He’s here,” he said flatly, drawing out his gun.

“I told you,” Le Fauçon said sullenly. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t forget, we have what he wants quite desperately. Frankly, I don’t see the attraction. She’s just an ordinary-enough woman, nothing like Maddelena. Nothing to risk your life for.”

They hadn’t tied her feet, Chloe realized with real gratitude. And there was a handgun just sitting on the table in front of Luc, almost within reach. If he could just be distracted for long enough…

Another thump, this time from directly overhead, and Luc’s curse was louder. Le Fauçon, however, had dissolved into pure panic.

“How many guards did you set out?”

“Three.”

“Then that’s the three of them gone,” Le Fauçon whined. “What are we going to do?”

“You’re going to have to shoot me,” Bastien said.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

He looked like death, standing in the doorway, and Le Fauçon let out a girlish squeak of panic. Luc rose, and he left the gun on the table in front of him. It was a false concession—he had another tucked in the back of his pants, and she knew without doubt that he would be lightning fast.

“I don’t want to shoot you, Jean-Marc,” Luc said easily. “We just want you back. I’m sorry we had to take Chloe, but it seemed as if it was the only thing that would get you here.”

“My name is Bastien Toussaint, not Jean-Marc,” he said. “And if you’ve hurt a hair on her head, I’m going to disembowel you.”

Le Fauçon let out another squeal, but both men ignored him. “She’s perfectly fine,” Luc said. “She’d tell you so, but she’s bound and gagged at the moment. We didn’t want her warning you.”

“And yet here I am,” Bastien said in a voice silken with menace. “Do me a favor, Luc, and untie her. I need to hear from her that she’s all right.”

“Of course,” Luc said courteously, while Le Fauçon moaned. He turned sideways, not exposing his back to Bastien, and reached down to unfasten the ties that were already lying loose in her lap. She reached up and yanked down the mask, taking a few deep breaths.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little raw. “They didn’t hurt me.” She rose on unsteady feet.

“Come over here, Chloe,” Bastien said.

“I don’t think so.” Luc grabbed her and pulled her in front of him. “She’s my only leverage. I don’t want you shooting me before you hear what I’m offering you.”

“You’re offering me? What about Le Fauçon?” He threw a contemptuous glance at the other man in the room.

“I thought you figured it out by now,” Luc said. “He’s just window-dressing. I am Le Fauçon.”

As far as big revelations went, it was a bit of an anti-climax. Bastien simply nodded, unsurprised. “Then you should know that your only chance of surviving this night is to let my wife go.”

“Maddelena’s your wife.”

“Fuck Maddelena,” he said flatly.

“I have,” Luc said. “I don’t recommend it.”

Chloe could feel Luc move behind her, and a moment later she felt the barrel of a gun against her temple. She froze. There was no way she could lean over and grasp the extra gun without Luc putting a bullet in her brain, so she held very still, looking at Bastien.