Page 118 of The Chemist

“Same,” Jared noted.

“I hate you all,” Diesel joked, wrapping his arm around Zero’s waist as they continued their walk down the opera house steps.

It was a Saturday night, and the streets were buzzing with tourists and street merchants, all doing their best to captivate their audiences and make a quick buck or two.

“Did I mention how much I love seeing you decked out in a suit and bow tie?” Zero whispered, dropping a kiss on Diesel’s head as they continued to follow Matteo and the guys. “You’re like a hot-as-fuck James Bond, massive dick and all.”

“Eww, gross. That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Levi threw over his shoulder.

“Stop your eavesdropping, and you won’t be shocked by what you hear,” Diesel responded with a smirk. Sometimes, that boy just needed to be put in his place.

“Hold up,” Matteo announced, walking back toward Diesel. “I need you two to wait here. Don’t do anything. Just wait.”

Diesel glanced over at Zero, confused. “I don’t get it. Why?”

Ignoring his question, Matteo pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, then began walking along the sidewalk, glancing around as if he were lost.

What the fuck was he doing?Matteo had been roaming these streets pretty much since he was able to stand on two feet. He knew the place like the undersack of Ares’s balls.

Still staring at his phone, Levi and Isaac stepped up beside Matteo and began assisting their father in trying to navigate their location.

“Jesus, I swear, we are not far from the hotel,” Matteo noted, his voice dripping with frustration.

“I think it’s two blocks over that way.” Levi turned, pointing in the direction of their fictitious hotel.

Diesel looked over at Chase and Jared, who were standing over by a lamppost, appearing deep in their own conversation. If he had just spotted the two, he would have guessed that they were simply friends who had just finished watching the opera together. They gave no indication that they were together with the party currently trying to navigate their way through downtown Paris.

This whole thing was getting weird.

“Pardonne-moi. Do you speak English?” a woman asked as she approached Matteo and his companions.

Matteo looked up, all flustered and stressed.

“Hi. Yes. Umm, we’re American,” Matteo responded for some unknown reason.

“You look lost. Can I help you find something?” the Good Samaritan asked, sliding in between Matteo and Isaac. Levi stood in front of Matteo, still struggling to see the map on his phone.

“Yes, we are trying to find our way back to our hotel. It’s here,” Matteo said, tilting his phone so that the woman could see as well.

The woman smiled.

Diesel’s heart stopped in his chest.

“Yes, I know the place you seek,” the woman noted, taking Matteo’s phone, then snaking her arm through Matteo’s. “It’s not far from here. I can show you how to get there," the woman offered with a hint of a French accent.

Diesel’s grip on Zero’s hand tightened as the vein in his neck began to throb. Hundreds of fantasies rushed through his mind. Pain. Dismemberment. Boiling acid. All the many scenarios he had dreamed about and spent hours fine-tuning in his head. Wishing that one day, he would have the opportunity to put one of his many plans into action.

He heard Zero groan beside him as he crushed his hand in his.

“Ooof,” Matteo grunted as some asshole bumped into his back.

“Pardonne-moi, monsieur,” the six-foot brute apologized, straightening himself up and giving Matteo a friendly pat on the back.

The wind was suddenly knocked from Diesel’s stomach.

That bastard!

“Hey! Fuck-face!” Diesel shouted, dropping Zero’s hand and charging toward the man and woman standing beside Matteo and his brothers.

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