Page 105 of Marx Girl


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I clench my jaw in anger. “I pull the trigger. This is my kill,” I whisper.

They all nod as they watch. They then go over to the photos on the shelves in my room and go through them one by one. John picks up the photo of us at Kamala and points Bridget out to the other one. He then carefully takes the photo out of the frame and put it in his back pocket. My chin rises as I feel the adrenaline start to pump. Then they smash everything on the shelves.

I drop my head, unable to watch.

“Oh, they’re gonna fucking die, all right,” Ethan whispers.

My thoughts go to my wooden box, and I’m grateful that Didge was thoughtful enough to bring it with us. What would they have done to Meika’s passport and beads, had they found them? My eyes rise to my friends as rage fills my every pore.

“We find them and then I kill them. Nice and slow.”

“Angel,” I whisper as I wake her

“Hmm.” She stretches.

“Didge, we go have to go the airport, babe. You need to get up.”

“What time is it?” she mumbles

“We leave for the airport in half an hour.” I go to her suitcase and retrieve her clothes and underwear. I lay them out on the bed for her. “You’ve got time for a quick shower,” I add.

“Did you sleep?” she asks.

“Of course I did,” I lie. The guys and I have been up all night, discussing theories.

She glances around the room. “Did your friends arrive?”

“Yes, they’re in the room next door. They got a few hours sleep.” Another lie. I’m on fire today.

She rubs her eyes. “Oh, okay.” She gets up and drags herself to the bathroom, and I follow and take her into my arms.

“Where’s my good morning kiss from my wife, anyway?” I kiss her softly.

She sleepily smiles up at me and I feel my heart constrict. “Your wife is a snarky bitch when she’s tired, Ben. You should stay away from her for your own protection.”

“Don’t insult my wife, she’s perfect.” I smile as I kiss her again.

She frowns. “You’re saying wife a lot today.”

“I’m liking the sound of the word wife.”

She bites her bottom lip as she slides her hands down to my behind. “Would you like to have honeymoon-shower sex now?” she purrs.

I chuckle. She kills me. “No, I would not. We’ve got to go.”

She frowns as she pulls from my arms and turns the shower on. “You’re annoying when you be all logical and shit, Ben.”

My eyes dance with delight as I watch her undress.

She curls her lip. “What’s that look?”

“There she is.”

“There who is? Speak English,” she snaps.

“My tired, snarky wench.”

She glares at me. “Don’t push your luck, Ben. It’s fucking 3:00 a.m.”

I smirk and point to the shower with my thumb. “In.”

Bridget stands in our room, dressed and ready, and yet she only wants to hold me. “I feel weird,” she whispers against my chest as I hold her.

“Why? These are my friends,” I murmur into her hair.

“Ben, isn’t this a bit over the top? Honestly? I think this is a big mix-up. I just want to go to the police.”

“Bridget,” I say sternly. “The police can’t help us, and I need you to trust me.”

“But—”

I cut her off. “These guys are here to protect both of us, not just you,” I reply, knowing that it will mollify her. “And they are getting a trip to Kamala. They’re here to help us…just in case.” I comfort her.

Her eyes search mine. “I just—”

“You just what?” I whisper.

“I don’t even know them, and now I’m going away with three of them. It feels weird.”

I smile, and kiss her beautiful lips. “Get to know them. These men are the best part of me.”

She smiles softly.

“Actually, I take that back. You are the best part of me.” I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. “Now, let’s get to Thailand and get you safe.”

She smiles and nods with renewed determination, and I open the room door out into the corridor and there the three boys stand as they wait.

“Hi, Bridget.” Ethan smiles, and kisses her cheek politely.

She nods shyly. “Hello.”

Matt steps forward. “Hello, Bridget, it’s nice to see you again,” he says softly.

“Hello.” She smiles, and her nervous eyes flicker to mine. I am overcome with love for this girl.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“And you remember Jed?” I ask.

She smiles and nods. “Thank you for coming,” she whispers.

He dips his head, smiling a lopsided smile.

We walk down the corridor in silence, and then into the lift and down to the basement parking lot.

“The basement?” she asks.

“The cab is picking us up from there.”

A frown crosses her face. I put my arm around her and pull her in.

I don’t have the heart to tell her that we don’t want anyone to have a clear shot at us from the surrounding buildings. We climb into the cab and drive out of the parking lot as Ethan stares behind, at the direction we are coming from, just to make sure we are not being followed.

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