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Craig sniffs. "Yeah, well, don't start now. I'm still not convinced you aren't insane." The faintest hint of a smile returns to his face. "But for what it's worth, not everyone in London buys what your brother's selling.”
"Let's just hope that's enough," Liam says as the guys slide their arms around my waist and herd me off the porch.
"Thank you, Mr. Sterling," I reiterate, extending a hand to my boss.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he gripes, but he shakes my hand anyway. "Keep an eye on this one," he advises the guys. "Your girl's had a rough go of it, by the sounds of it. Something about a shootout in a parking garage.”
The guys all turn to stare at me, astonishment, concern, and annoyance all etched on their faces. "Excuse me?" Theo says finally.
I duck my head. "Uh, long story?”
Tristan chuckles, then grabs at his side with a wince. "Lucky we've got a long ride ahead of us," he says. "It sounds like we've got some catching up to do.”
ChapterForty-One
"So where are we going?" I ask, perched in the back seat of the Range Rover between Liam and Tristan. Theo is behind the wheel this time as we head back over the river, giving downtown London a wide berth.
"It's still open season on Theo around here—along with anyone who associates with him," Liam explains, running his thumb absently along the flesh of my thigh. “We’re getting somewhere safe.”
"We're heading north, toward Enfield," Tristan elaborates. "Any closer to the city center and we risk drawing the kind of attention none of us wants.”
"Got enough of that already," I say, wincing as I touch the cut on my head. My stitches are holding, if barely.
Theo notices the gesture in the rear view mirror, and I see the way his brows furrow. "What happened?" he asks, and I suddenly realize all the guys are looking at me.
"That?" I wince as I drop my hand. "That was from the car crash. I'm surprised the stitches didn't split when I ran. Not exactly ideal for rest and recovery.”
"Anything else?" Theo presses, and I can hear the worry in his voice. "There's a hospital a few miles west of—"
"No," I reply immediately. "No more hospitals. Please.”
"Kid..." Theo says, clearly ready to argue.
"The last time I was in the hospital, they were ready to send me back to Lucas," I reply. "I'll be fine. If it were anything serious, I wouldn't have made it out. I'm not about to risk tipping anyone off to you guys being here.”
The guys all tense visibly at the sound of Lucas's name, and I swear I can see murder in their eyes. Sometimes I forget that, at the end of the day, they're mobsters. The protectiveness in each of their expressions is so intense it's almost scary, and although I know I have nothing to fear from them, I can't say the same for anyone who tries to hurt me. And there's something else in the way they're looking at me, too: desire, strong enough to make me squirm in my seat. Despite my injuries and exhaustion, my heart flutters at the thought that we’ve been reunited. That I'm theirs.
I spend the rest of the drive listening to their accounts of the past few days, all the while trying to contain my rapidly-growing need to have their arms around me again. And judging by the way the guys keep glancing at me, their eyes sparkling in the darkness, they feel the same way. By the time we're outside the city center, I can hardly stand it.
Night has fallen over the city, and the town of Enfield is quiet as can be when we slow to a stop alongside the river. Theo parks the car, and the guys descend on me to help me out, checking me over as if the car ride alone might have exacerbated my injuries. The dynamic is different than it's been with any of them alone, and it occurs to me as we head down the sidewalk that we haven't actually had a chance to betogetheryet—all of us, romantically, they way Theo and I discussed so long ago. The idea is nerve-wracking—will this change things for the worse?—but it's also exhilarating, and I can only hope they're not having second thoughts as we approach a picturesque little cottage with a light on inside.
"Whose safe house is this?" I ask as Tristan knocks on the door.
"This isn't a safe house, kid," Theo replies, shooting me his characteristic smirk. "This is a bed and breakfast.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?"
"Anything this close to the Emmerico and Dalton estates is going to be under surveillance," Tristan explains as footsteps shuffle behind the door. "Even our own properties may be compromised, and we can't afford to take risks. Not with you.”
A moment later, the door opens to reveal a tired-looking man in a bathrobe. "Mr. Archer," he says, nodding to Tristan. "It's nice to see you again.”
"You as well," Tristan replies. "We have a room for three.”
"You do indeed," the man replies. "Right this way.” He ushers us into the bed and breakfast, which looks like something straight out of a magazine: pine floors, homey furniture, thick quilts, an old mantle with a clock above it. It's exactly the kind of inn you'd expect to see in a romance novel, and my cheeks start to warm as I bite my lip and look around. If the guys notice, they don't show it, each of them keeping a hand on me as we're led upstairs to a beautiful bedroom with a four-poster bed and its own fireplace.
"Anything you need, just call," the man says, nodding politely to Tristan. "Any Archer is a friend of ours." With that, he smiles, nods, and pads away down the hall, closing the door behind him.
The guys and I are left there in silence, and for the life of me, I can't think of anything to say. Luckily, I don't have to, because the next moment, they're on me, and there's no more need for talking.
