Page 27 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Then a hand comes from nowhere, yanking me to my feet. “This way,” someone commands into my ear, their tone familiar. Lucius. He throws his arm around my shoulder, pinning me to his side. “Keep your head down. I’ve got you.”
He nudges me toward the exit, but I turn back, barely recognizing the room behind me at all. Glass decorates the table like confetti. One of the chairs is broken, and flailing bodies clamor for the doorway. It looks like a fucking bomb went off.
“Ainsley?” Panic breaks my voice into a hollow rasp. “Daisy?”
“Come!” Lucius grabs my arm. “Everyone is safe, but we need to move. Now!”
I follow him blindly. Wherever we go, we move too quickly for me to track our progress. All I know is that when Lucius finally stops, we’re in an enclosed space illuminated only with fluorescent lighting. A basement?
One by one, the kids stream inside, flanked by several men I don’t recognize. They’re dressed in black, each openly sporting a weapon. Guards.
“What’s happening?” Ainsley demands. I look down to find her clinging to my waist. Her eyes are wide, staring blankly. “Frankie, what’s happening?”
“A minor gas leak,” Lucius explains calmly. “It most likely caused a small pipe explosion. Nothing to worry about. Ms. Marconi, if you don’t mind, may I have a word?”
He heads into the hallway, past the guards. The second we’re out of earshot, I reach for his hand, forcing him to face me. “What’s really going on?”
“Someone just tried to kill you,” he explains, his tone eerily blunt. “It was a lazy attempt to be sure. A warning more than anything, but Mr. Koslov will want you brought to him immediately.”
“No.” The world spins. I have to hunch over and cradle my head in my hands just to keep standing. The floor sways beneath me as a tattered giggle escapes my throat. Maybe I’m in shock. From here, I can hear Mikie demanding answers amid a thin, terrified cry.Ainsley.God, she’s never sounded so frantic before. Standing upright, I start in their direction. “I’m not leaving them—”
“Trust me, it will be for the best,” Lucius insists, grabbing my hand before I even make it a step. Frowning, he withdraws a handkerchief from his suit pocket. “You’re bleeding. If I may—” He dabs at a patch of flesh above my left eye, but I don’t feel anything. The cloth, however, comes away red. “Don’t be alarmed,” Lucius says, stowing the stained fabric within his jacket. “It’s merely a superficial laceration. Nothing too serious. Still, I’ll have a physician meet you at the club.”
“The club?” My thoughts congeal within my skull like jelly. He’s speaking too quickly. I can’t keep up.
“Yes.” Lucius nods. “I need to get you to Mr. Koslov immediately. And I know you’re concerned for your siblings. I will stay with them. And, if I may be blunt, they’ll be safer apart from you for now. Tomas?” He directs his attention to one of the men dressed in black who steps forward. “This is the head of security,” Lucius explains to me. “He will bring you to Mr. Koslov. Now go.”
But I never have a choice. Tomas takes my arm and steers me into another room before I even realize what’s happening. I start to protest, but one last look from Lucius makes me go limp, resigned.
It’s the same way he looked at me in the car after dispensing his ‘advice.’
Without judgment or irritation. No anger, either…
Just pity.
* * *
Tomas drivesme to the club in a vehicle I don’t recognize. Rather than a sleek sportscar, I find myself in the back seat of a bulky van with tinted windows that paint the world beyond in dark obscurity. Rather than to portray luxury, its purpose is far more utilitarian—safety.
And urgency.
Forgoing about a million traffic laws, Tomas whips the van over the courtyard of the club and parks mere feet from the entrance. A heartbeat later, he’s already at my door, moving to shield my body with his. “This way, Ms. Marconi.”
We barely enter the building before Maxim appears as if conjured from thin air. Wild with rage, his eyes trace my face, narrowing over the blood drying on my forehead.
The next second, I’m in his arms, my head on his shoulder. His pulse hammers madly beneath his skin as he carries me down a darkened hallway and into the secluded bedroom, I know to be his.
“You’re bleeding… Damnit.” He makes me sit on the edge of the mattress, his focus on my forehead. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I croak, but the blood dripping down my chin barely fazes me. In fact, the only thing I can seem to care about is a simple statement Mikie said. “It’s almost summer break.”
Maxim frowns, scanning my face. “How do you feel? Is your head—”
“I mean, my kids should be in a fucking amusement park or something.” My hands are shaking. Balling them into fists isn’t enough to stop the tremors wracking me from head to toe. My teeth chatter, breaking my words into a series of jagged syllables. “They deserve a normal vacation. School. Arealhome. Not getting s-shot at—”
“Breathe,” Maxim warns, stroking the uninjured side of my face. “You’re in shock—”
“You think I want protection?” I’m babbling. I can barely make sense of my own damn words—but I can’t shut up, either. “I want normalcy! I want my sisters to grow up in a normal fucking environment, and my brothers shouldn’t see me covered in bruises... I want them to have bedtimes, and allowances, and take walks in the park. Shit normal people do. I want them to have what I didn’t. Not this.” My eyes burn, and moisture spills from them the second I blink. “Not borrowed mansions, and fucking fear.”
