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“I need to find someone,” I tell her, my voice low and tight with urgency. And, yes, desperation. “Please, I need your help. It’s important.”
“You there!” The officer’s call sounds nearer now. And he’s pissed. “Monsieur, I am spe
aking to you.”
I glance back and see that the disruption has attracted the attention of a pair of uniformed French soldiers. Maroon berets and green camouflage move in from posts at the other end of the ticketing area. The situation is escalating quickly.
I’m sure I look unsettling, even dangerous or unstable, especially given the current state of unease in the world. But I don’t have time to deal with anxious security patrols or aggravated cops. I need to find Avery and keep her from getting on that plane. Hell, I’ll search the whole damned airport if that’s what it takes.
“Monsieur!” The shout comes from one of the soldiers approaching me from behind now.
“Ah, fuck this.” I pivot in front of the counters and head for the security line.
People move out of my path like a receding wave, wary looks and whispers left in my wake. Children drawn close to their parents as I pass. I’m causing a scene, probably on my way toward an international incident, but I don’t care.
I duck under a length of security tape just as a firm hand latches onto my arm. “Sir, I wouldn’t do this if I were you.”
The largest of the French soldiers holds me in an iron grasp. His partner steps in on my other side, while a third blocks me from the front. Their faces are stern, all three gazes unblinking and prepared to take me down.
Each second I’m delayed here is a second closer to losing Avery. When I speak, it’s through gritted teeth. “Let me go. I have to get through.”
“No, sir.” The mammoth in front of me shakes his dark head. “You’ve gone far enough.”
I know there’s no getting past these men, nor their guns. I’ve already lost. I’m too late to make Avery listen, even if she somehow granted me the chance.
On a roar, I fight against the hold on my arm. I wrench loose, fueled by fury and a sawing ache in my chest that’s too big to be contained.
It explodes out of me on a growl. My fist flies at the same time, connecting with the soldier’s jaw in front of me. His head rocks back on his shoulders, but only for a second.
When the hammer of his answering blow smashes into my face, I savor the pain. I’ve earned it after all. And for the briefest moment—before my vision goes dark and the hard concrete floor comes up to greet me—I tell myself that Avery deserves this chance to fly away and escape me.
She deserves everything that I can never give her.
She deserves to be free, to live her life without me.
Chapter 2
New York
One year later
“Avery, if you have a moment, the magazine would like to get a few more photos for your interview.”
“Okay. Thank you, Rachel.” From within the small throng of art critics and collectors circled around me, I nod at the publicist who’s been hired to help me navigate tonight’s invitation-only reception. “Will you all excuse me, please?”
Slipping away, I follow her through the thick, buzzing crowd that fills the newly opened modern art gallery at one of the city’s most prestigious private universities. The high-ceilinged, open-concept space is packed, vibrating with energy. Soft music plays from the string quartet set up near the open cocktail bar. Mingled conversations swell from all directions, punctuated here and there by the soft clink of crystal glasses.
And on the soaring white walls that surround the gathering, paintings from contemporary masters hang alongside works from promising new talents and Avant-garde outsiders, most of whom are in attendance tonight.
It’s hard to believe I’m actually a guest at this elegant event, let alone that I’m here because one of my pieces has been acquired for the university’s collection.
“Ms. Ross, can you tell us what you’re working on now?” The question comes at me from somewhere to my right, accompanied by a hand holding a cell phone camera in my face. Rachel is there in an instant, smoothly deflecting for me.
“Ken, you’ll have to wait to find out, just like everyone else.” Smiling at the disappointed reporter, she steers me away from him. “How are you holding up tonight?”
“Good. I’m having a great time.”
“It’s okay, you can be honest with me. You hate all the attention, don’t you?” She winks at me as we walk. “After the price your most recent painting commanded, you should be getting used to it. Everyone wants a piece of you now.”
