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Suspicions confirmed.
He charges me again. This time, he manages to grab me by the throat and slam me against the nearest wall. He lifts me a good foot or so in the air, my legs dangling uselessly. I choke, the air in my lungs burning painfully as I struggle to breathe.
People are openly staring, gawking, whispering to one another with worry written all over their faces. Nobody makes a move, though, too afraid to find themselves in the middle of my fight. I don’t blame them.
But a tiny part of me kind of wishes they’d help.
I kick, I claw, I spit. My attacker seems unfazed.
“Spit it out,” he repeats.
“Go to hell!” I choke.
As quick as lightning, he brandishes a pocket knife. He presses a button and the blade springs open, sharp edge glinting in the fluorescent lights of the library.
“If you’re not going to spit it out, I’ll just have to cut it out of you.”
Fear makes my stomach roll. This is going downhill fast.
He squeezes my throat —tighter, tighter,tighter. Black spots flicker across my vision, but I don’t stop fighting. I manage to kick him right in the balls, but the fucker doesn’t flinch.
Behind him, I spot movement. Something big is racing toward us, though I’m so oxygen deprived that I can’t figure out if I’ve imagined it or not. Only when I catch a glimpse of dark brown hair and the familiarly large silhouette of broad shoulders and a wide chest that I realize I’m catching the break I wanted.
I manage to grin. “Fuck you,” I rasp out just as Gabriel tackles the man to the floor.
Chapter 9
Gabriel
I’m getting way too old for this shit.
Not only did Raquel make me ruin my favorite pair of pants, but she also had the audacity to steal my Mercedes right out of my garage. I’m not sure how she did it, but she must have pocketed my car keys while I was thoroughly… distracted.
Luckily, I’ve always been a very cautious man. It’s a good thing I have the GPS tracking option enabled in my car, otherwise it would have been anyone’s guess where Raquel ran off to.
“Monsieur Rochefort!” Penelope cries. “That she-devil! She’s gone and taken your car and—”
“Relax,” I tell her. “I gave her permission.”
“What? What on Earth for? I'm not allowed to drive your Mercedes, only the Audi.”
I don’t have time to explain things to my housekeeper. “Stay here and watch over Odette. I’ll be back shortly.”
“But Monsieur Rochefort—”
I bend down to kiss the top of my daughter’s head. “Be good, ma chérie. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”
“With Raquel?” she asks, so soft and sweet and hopeful.
My chest tightens.My God, she’stalking! Like it or not, there’s no denying Raquel’s presence has been a good influence on Odette.
Now if only she’d stop being such a bad influence onme.
I follow the car’s GPS signal to the heart of Montpellier. I might know the city like the back of my hand, but Raquel could literally be anywhere. If she’s every ounce Chet’s daughter, then she’ll know how to keep a low profile. It’s only when I hear a flustered passerby that I realize exactly where she is.
“Can’t believe it,” the woman mumbles, a student, by the looks of her heavy backpack and hefty library books. “What’s the world coming to? A fight in a public library?”
“We should have called the police,” her friend mutters.
