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  But never like this.

  Brynne brought a whole new meaning to the idea of possessiveness. At least for me she did. I thought I might be dead by the end of the night from keeping up with all the people who wanted a piece of her.

  She looked so beautiful and perfect in her periwinkle lace dress and silvery shoes; every inch the model she was outwardly, but inwardly, that artistic mind of hers was brilliant and respected for the work she did in her field. My girl was a celebrity tonight. It damn well helped to see my gift around her neck too. She is mine, people! Mine! And don’t fucking forget it either!

  The display of Lady Percival was indeed a hit. She’d been set up as a tutorial on the conserving process as her restoration was only partially complete. And Brynne, of course, was credited as conservator for the project. As we went in to be seated for dinner, mention was made of her discovery in the welcome speech. The look of pride on her face was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. All of the proceeds for tonight’s event went to support the Rothvale Foundation for Advancement of the Arts and as I looked around the room, could see big money and old names among the guests. It seemed that Mallerton was experiencing a renaissance of sorts, and Brynne’s disclosure of what he’d painted had helped generate interest in his work, and as a result, the Rothvale charity.

  “Brynne, your Lady Percival is something else,” Gabrielle said. “I got a good look at her when I arrived. I love how they are displaying her as an opportunity for teaching about the conserving methods and process that goes into a treasure like her. And, Ethan, you were instrumental in solving the mystery too, I hear.”

  “Hardly instrumental. Just some word translation, but thank you, Gabrielle. I was glad to help my girl with a little French.” I winked at Brynne. “She looked so happy when she figured it all out.”

  “I was ecstatic. That painting was a career maker for me. And I owe it all to you, baby.” She reached over and covered my hand with hers.

  God, I loved when she did little gestures of affection like that. I brought her hand to my lips and didn’t care one bit who saw. I just didn’t care.

  “I wonder where Ivan is. Do you think he’ll be here soon?” Brynne asked me.

  My feelings of joy turned to pure jealousy in about two point five seconds and I am sure I frowned before I caught myself and accepted she was just being nice. I was reminded that I needed to let him know about the pictures from today, but damn, Ivan would drool all over Brynne when he saw how beautiful she looked tonight.

  Brynne turned to her friend and started in excitedly, “Gab, I really hope he comes tonight, I so want you to meet Ethan’s cousin. He has a houseful of Mallerton’s that need cataloguing and God knows what else. You need to meet this man. I mean, you really need to.”

  Gabrielle laughed, looking very happy and lovely in her own right, wearing a fitted green dress that did wonderful things paired with her coloring and matching eyes. This could be a very good fixation, I realized. An Ivan distracted by Gabrielle would be excellent for keeping him from flirting with Brynne. And something told me Ivan was going to be all over Gabrielle once he got a good look at her. I’d wager brass on it. And I’d win too.

  “Hard to say, baby. Ivan sees time in his own set of parameters and he always has. It’s terribly annoying…” My words trailed off when I saw her across the table. Bugger me. Strawberry Blonde at three o’clock—all decked out and on the hunt. Not good.

  I glanced away quickly and focused on Brynne. She looked over to where my eyes had just been and then back at me. Her mind was going in circles I am sure. Brynne’s a smart girl. I tried to play it cool and prayed that Pamela or Penelope did not remember any better than I did, but didn’t hold out much hope. She was a friend of Ivan’s and I just knew she would end up approaching me before the night was through. Where is the rule book for handling these awkward situations? Wasn’t it just plain vulgar to introduce the last person you’d shagged to the person you were shagging now? Ugh.

  “Is everything okay?” Brynne asked.

  “Yes.” I reached for my wineglass and put my arm on the back of Brynne’s chair. “Perfect.” I smiled.

  “Oh look, there’s Paul.” She grinned and waved at my enemy who raised his glass in our direction. I’d expected that he’d be here because he’d said so that morning when I wanted to introduce him to the sidewalk. “Be nice. Don’t even think of having another tantrum in front of him again,” she muttered under her breath at me.

  “Fine,” I said, raising my glass and mentally wishing for direct knowledge of the dark arts so I could curse him into a toad. Wait, he already was a toad; would have to be something different…a cockroach maybe?

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “How much I despise certain insects,” I said, taking a drink of wine.

  She rolled her eyes. “Really?”

  “Umm hmm. Not kidding. Cockroaches are just vile things, slinking around into places they definitely do not belong.”

  She laughed at me. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer. “But if you embarrass me in front of him again like you did that morning getting coffee, I will hurt you, Blackstone. And there will be lots of excruciating pain involved.” She looked down below my waist.

  I laughed back and only because it was funny and I didn’t doubt her threat for a moment, and the fact that The Cockroach was watching us from across the way. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman…just as long as he keeps his pincers to himself.”

  She rolled her eyes at me again and I noticed how blue they looked paired against her dress tonight.

  After dinner, I got the pleasure of being introduced to the very female, and very gracious Alex Craven from the Victoria and Albert. I sent up a prayer of thanks to my mum that I never sent Ms. Craven the toxic text from ‘Ethan w/ the big knife’ and figured Mum had to have been looking out for me that day. I never take my luck for granted.

  It didn’t take long for Brynne to be whisked away by patrons who wanted a blow by blow of the conserving of Lady Percival. I resigned myself to that eventuality and headed off to get another drink. I sensed eyes on me and turned around to find Strawberry Blonde honing in fast. Shit. I knew this would happen.

  “Hello, Ethan. It’s so nice to see you here tonight. I was just asking Ivan about you the other day.”

  “Is that so?” I nodded at her, desperately wishing I remembered her name. “Drink…um…?” I looked down, feeling like an asshole and wanting to be anywhere else at this moment.

  “Priscilla.”

  Well, I got the first letter right. I snapped my fingers and pointed at the ceiling. “Right—Priscilla, can I get you a drink? I’m just about to head back up to the Victorian Gallery.” Please say no.

  “Yes! I’d love a Cosmo.” She gushed, her eyes lighting up as she perceived some interest on my part. She gave me a thorough looking over and I found it more than uncomfortable. This was something I’d put up with for years from women. I’d done it for the sex of course. I mean, who will shag you if you don’t at least let them admire and pretend to be flattered by their attentions? But really, I didn’t like it, and it had been nothing more than a game for me. Before Brynne much of what I’d been doing had been games. I’d been a dog.

  “And what did Ivan say about me?”

  “He said you were very busy with your job and the Olympics…and your new girlfriend.”

  “Ahhh…well he told you the truth at least,” I said, looking for a way out of the room without being cruel, “I do have a girlfriend.” And I need to get away from you like right-the-hell-now!

  “I saw her earlier at dinner. She’s a young little thing isn’t she?” Priscilla stepped closer and put her hand on my arm, her voice laced with enough toxin to sting.

  “She’s not that young.” I gulped a mouthful of vodka and prayed for some act of God to get me the fuck out of this uncomfortable situation when in walked The Cockroach with Brynne at his side.

>   There’s your act of God, asshole.

  “Baby.” I detached myself from Priscilla and went toward Brynne. “I was just getting a drink and ran into…um…Priscilla…” Bloody hell if I didn’t know her last name either! This sucked, and I just didn’t have the skills to do this shit anymore, not that I’d ever had them, but this was awkward as fuck.

  “Blackstone.” Paul Langley gave me an accusatory look. “Brynne was feeling a little lightheaded and needed to take a break.”

  I took her hand and put my lips to it. “Are you all right?”

  “I think I just need some water,” she said. “I just felt hot all of a sudden and weird.”

  “Here, I want you to sit and I’ll get you some water.” But before I could move, there was good ole Langley pressing a crystal glass into her hands. I tried mental telepathy on him. You can leave us now, Langley.

  It didn’t work.

  “Thank you, Paul,” Brynne flashed him a grateful smile and started drinking.

  “My pleasure, darling,” The Cockroach purred back at her.

  Damn…I’d hoped you’d left the room. Langley, the epitome of manners that he apparently was, stuck out his hand to Priscilla and introduced himself. “Paul Langley.”

  “Priscilla Banks. Lovely to meet you.”

  Marvelous. Now, can you two go off together and shag in the loo or talk behind our backs or something? Either of those would be fucking perfect.

  To my good fortune, they did move away and begin a conversation. I looked back at Brynne and asked, “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, much.” She glanced over at Paul and Priscilla and then back to me. “Who is that, Ethan?” she whispered.

  “A friend of Ivan’s.”

  She wasn’t buying it and gave me a look that spelled certain doom if I didn’t come clean. “Was she a friend of yours too?”

  “Not really,” I offered.

  “What does that mean, not really?”

  I paused, unsure where to take this unpleasantness. A public charity event was hardly the place, but I’ve not always filtered my thoughts from what comes out of my mouth and therefore forged ahead anyway. “It means we went out one time together and we are not friends in any sense of the word. Not like you and Langley are friends.” I raised a brow at her.

  “Okay. Fair enough,” she said, with a long reflective look over at Priscilla and then back at me, before finishing the rest of her water.

  Hmmm…so it seemed she was willing to let it drop for the moment. Thank. God. Now, if we could just escape The Cockroach and Strawberry Blonde things would be golden.

  “Shall we go back up to the gallery? You must have legions of fans still waiting to talk to you.”

  “Right,” she laughed, shaking her head. “But yeah, we really should go back. I want Lady Percival to get her due tonight. She’s been hiding in the dark for far too long.”

  As I took Brynne up to the Victorian Gallery, I couldn’t help but think she was referring to herself metaphorically with that last part: She’s been hiding in the dark for far too long. It made me happy for some reason.

  It didn’t take but moments for Brynne to get caught up in another round of interviews and I sort of faded into the background and let her do her thing. She was just starting out in her career and I wanted her success for a few reasons. One, it was her dream, and two, a good job in her chosen field would keep her in London with me. I was just as motivated as my girl was.

  “Enjoying the show?” Ivan’s voice came at my shoulder.

  “Glad you could make it tonight. We’ve been wondering when you’d grace us with your presence. Brynne wants to introduce you to her friend.” I looked around for Gabrielle in her green dress but didn’t see her.

  “Brynne looks very busy right now.” He glanced over at my girl admiringly. “Maybe later.”

  “Look, Ivan, there was a pseudo threat delivered to my office today. I’m not horribly concerned but I want you to know the details.” I handed him the envelope of photos I’d brought along tonight anticipating his attendance. I was a firm believer that everyone should know about the threats against them, no matter how insignificant. Crazy people never seem to get better, so everyone needs to know what could be a potential problem down the line.

  Ivan and I had done this plenty of times before so it wasn’t anything new. He grunted at the photos as he flipped through and after a minute handed the whole lot back to me. “Thanks, E, for looking out. I’m sure it’ll all blow over when the Olympics are but a memory.” He looked at the drink in my hand. “At least I can hope, true?”

  “It’s all we can do, mate.” I nodded, clapping him on the back with one hand.

  “I need to have something along the lines of what you’re having.” He waved off and left for the bar.

  I nursed my vodka for a few more minutes before deciding a smoke would be just the thing. Brynne was still too busy to be interrupted so I found Neil and told him where I was headed. I located an exit door down at street level, propped it open just enough so I could get back in the same way I’d gone out, and stepped into the cool, fresh, night.

  The clove tasted so fine I think I got a tad hard. Just a few more hours and we’d be on our way out of London and I’d have her all to myself. The city lights and sounds were a comfort swirled with the scented smoke that wrapped around me like a cloak. As I stood there and indulged in another coffin nail, I wondered how I’d ever get off the ciggies completely. I was really trying to limit my consumption, but I’d been at it for so long, I just didn’t know how to let go completely. Addiction was a powerful component of the body and the spirit. And the smokes had more hold on me than just the nicotine. I suppose some professional help was needed and time to face up to that reality as well as some others.

  I felt the vibration against my chest and it gave me a zing because it took a moment to determine what it was. Brynne’s old mobile in my front jacket pocket. The thing had been silent for so long I’d nearly forgotten to bring it tonight, but out of habit I kept charging it and turning it on.

  I pulled it out and saw the multimedia message alert. That meant a picture. I felt myself go cold and knew the frightening blade of fear slice into my gut. I pressed open and tried to breathe.

  ArmyOps has sent Brynne a music video on Spotify.

  Oh, fuck no! This is not happening right now. I pressed accept against my better judgment, but was compelled to look. The professional in me had to see exactly what it was. I knew the song the moment it started playing. Nine Inch Nails’ Closer. The one that was used in the sex video with Brynne. I let it play through because I had to, but felt ill throughout the whole song. And it was just the official music video and not the one of Brynne.

  Thank. Holy. Fuck.

  Images of a monkey on a cross, a pig’s head twirling on something, Trent Reznor in a leather mask swinging from shackles, wearing some fetish ball-gag, and a medical diagram of the female sex…

  I pulled in a breath the moment it ended and just stared at the screen. ArmyOps? Who the fuck was sending this shit? Oakley? My intel on him was about as secure as it could get. Lance Oakley was in Iraq and not going anywhere soon, unless it was in a body bag back to San Francisco if I got that lucky. It could happen I reasoned.

  The text came through a moment later: Brynne, Help me; I’ve broke apart my insides. Brynne, Help me; I’ve got no soul to sell. Brynne, Help me get away from myself. Brynne, Help me tear down my reason. Brynne, Help me be somebody else. Brynne, HELP ME!!

  My fingers definitely shook as I replied to that freakish mess of words: Who are u and what do u want from me?

  The reply was instant: Not you, Blackstone. I want Brynne. Put out your smoke and go back inside and give her my message.

  My head jerked up and scanned the perimeter and then the rooftops. This motherfucker was on me right now?! I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life but I had one purpose and one only—find Brynne and get her the hell out of here.

  I ducked back
inside and started running. I got Neil on headset and told him in brief to wrap it up.

  “On-site security just got a bomb threat called in. They’re evac-ing the whole place, E.”

  What? My mind was reeling with connections but there was no time to play Sherlock. “Stay on Brynne and wait for me!” I barked.

  Neil paused before replying. Not a good sign.

  “Do not fucking tell me you aren’t on her right now!”

  “I think she went to the ladies, and in-house approached me—I’m going now to find her.”

  “Fuck!”

  I changed directions and the alarm system went off. Really bloody loud. All of the exits lit up and doors started opening. Gabrielle emerged from a door just ahead of me and bolted like she was in a foot race which was remarkable considering the heels she’d worn tonight. Her hair was all askew and so was the skirt of her green dress as she fled.

  I didn’t have time to ask what was doing with her though; I needed to find my girl. I heard pounding footsteps behind me and turned. Ivan. He didn’t look much better than Gabrielle with his hair rearranged and his shirt halfway tucked. I had to wonder if they’d been together back there… I really don’t have time for this!

  “Bomb threat. That’s what this is.” I gestured to the flashing lights. “Everyone’s being evacuated.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?! All this is because of me?!” Ivan exploded.

  “I don’t know details. I was out having a smoke when the alarm went off. Neil said in-house security got a bomb threat called in and they’re closing everything down. We’ll sort it later. Just get the fuck out!”

  I left Ivan and ran for the Victorian Gallery. The place was an absolute crush of insanity. People shouting and running around in a panic. A lot like me.

  Brynne, where are you?!

  I looked for a flash of periwinkle in the crowd and did not see it. And my heart sank.

  “Do you have her?” I got Neil on headset again.

  “Not yet. I’ve checked two different loos on that floor. Empty. I told Elaina to bring her along if she spotted her on the way out to the street where they’re herding people. I’ll keep checking.”