“What is it?” Grant asks.“I call my police friend again, he does not answer. Then I call Luc – the contact for the guns – but he does not answer, either.”Grant shrugs. “Maybe he got drunk last night. Maybe he’s sleeping it off somewhere.”“No. I call the cousin of Luc, who works with him selling guns. He tells me Luc is dead.”We stare at JP. Besides obviously being bad news, the timing is a little too coincidental.“…quoi?” Dominique asks in disbelief.“There are men now in Paris searching for illegal gun sellers. These men find them, ask questions, torture them, sometimes kill them.” JP pauses, then says shakily, “They killed Luc.”Grant stands up. “Shit – did Luc know where you live?”“Non.”“Anything else about you they could have gotten out of him?”JP looks stricken. “He has my phone number.”“Shit,” Grant mutters, then turns to me. “If they have JP’s phone number, what’s the chances they can find us?”I hesitate. “If they have any sort of law enforcement connections, then th
It’s hard going. The rope ladder is a bitch to deal with. It’s twisty and shifts under my feet, and feels incredibly unstable. The only light is from JP’s flashlight, which he doesn’t exactly keep shined on me, so I have to feel my way down rather than depend on my eyes.Not to mention that all I can think about is I’m leaving behind the man I love in the middle of a gunfight.We climb down the ladder for what seems like forever. “What is this?” I whisper.“When they made the building almost two hundred years ago, they required ventilation and a way to transport supplies. When they were finished, they sealed it. Grant knew of this from his architecture, and created an escape route, just in case.”Of course he would. Grant has been obsessed with secret passageways all his life, ever since he was a child. It was the main reason he became an architect.I just pray I get the chance to tell him I saw your handiwork, and it saved my life. Thank you.What is disconcerting is how long we kee
We take a taxi and get to the restaurant in Montmartre 30 minutes later. JP has euros to pay with, so that’s no problem.We go to the rear entrance in the alley. After knocking on the back door, a fat man with a waxed mustache hustles us inside. He and JP speak rapidly in French, and then JP introduces us. “Marcel, Eve. Eve, Marcel.”I shake Marcel’s hand, after which he takes us upstairs to a small room with wooden tables. It looks like an overflow section of the restaurant, but it’s deserted.“You are safe here,” Marcel says in English.“Thank you,” I say gratefully.JP pulls off his hoodie and says something in French. Marcel laughs.“What did you say?” I ask.“I told him to burn it for me,” JP answers.I glare at him. “I wish I were that lucky.”Marcel asks, “Would you like a change of clothes?”“Oh my God, yes, PLEASE.”He smiles. “I will get one of my workers to take care of that for you.”“Do you have internet access here, by any chance?”“Of course.” He writes out the wifi net
I stare at him for a second until I realize he’s completely serious.“…what?!”“You heard me. We’re getting you out of the country ASAP.”“What about you?”“I’m staying here to finish this.”“What about them?” I ask, gesturing towards JP and Dominique.“If they want their ten million, then they’re staying, too.”“I think perhaps we should renegotiate that amount,” JP says, but shuts up when Grant glares at him.I cross my arms stubbornly. “Well maybe I want my ten million. So maybe I’m staying, too.”“No,” Grant says, cold as ice. “You’re not.”“Guys… we need a minute alone,” I say to the others, though I never take my eyes off of Grant.JP gets up slowly, his body language like This is suuuper awkward before he toddles off.The only time I break eye contact with Grant is when Dominique leaves the room and throws me a smug look over her shoulder: Told you so.I hate her for it, but it certainly seems that what she predicted has come true.Grant is trying to get rid of me.Once the oth
Grant is predictably furious.“What the FUCK?! Why didn’t you TELL me?!”“Uh, hello?! We were kind of busy getting shot at and separating into two groups and running through catacombs and shit!”“You didn’t tell us when we came in here!”“I forgot until just now when I was in the bathroom!”He looks like he’s about to start pulling his hair out. “How could you forget about something like that?!”“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was overjoyed to find out the man I’m in love with isn’t dead?!”Grant doesn’t have a comeback for that one. He just stands there clenching his jaw.JP hunches over in his chair and puts his hands over his eyes like, Ten million dollars is SO not worth this.Dominique looks wary, like she’s watching and waiting to see if this new development is a danger to her plans.“Look,” I say with a sigh, “all I want to do is contact Mailin and find out what he knows. Maybe he can give us some information.”“Or maybe your little high school buddy led Epicurus to our door
I enter an ancient forum, one of the tens of millions of derelict ghost ships drifting through the internet that nobody has ever bothered to remove. Then I find the thread dedicated to fans talking about the movie Old School, the one with Will Ferrell. Since that came out in 2003, you can guess how long it’s been since anyone has entered a comment. Mailin and I found it years after it saw its last visitor. In fact, I haven’t been on in… oh… six years, at least.As soon as Grant sees a picture of Will Ferrell doing a beer bong hit, he says, “Seriously? This is your secret hacking lair?”I click the mouse and Al Pacino yells, “Shut UP!”Grant sighs. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of…”I click again. “I don’t wanna hear any fuckin’ shit, and I don’t GIVE a shit!”JP snorts in amusement.Grant glares at him. “This is not funny. This is idiotic.”Al Pacino retorts with, “He’s a tight ass! And you got your head ALL the way UP it!”JP laughs again. Even Dominique smiles.“Woul
By now, Dominique and JP are freaking out.Grant points at the laptop. “Shut it down. NOW.”“Calm down,” I tell him.“Calm down?! Calm down?! Your little boyfriend is already here with the FBI in tow! They’re in Paris as we speak!”“This could be a good thing – ”“No, Eve. When finding you is the FBI’s ‘priority number one,’ it’s never a good thing!”“I just meant that we might be able to turn it to our advantage somehow.”“Turn it to our advantage?! They’re going to turn you to their advantage! They’re just like Epicurus – they’re trying to use you to get to me!”I have to admit, it doesn’t seem like he’s wrong.A text box appears on my monitor. Eve? You still there?You just created a bit of consternation on this end, that’s all. Are you here for me, Mailin, or for Grant?I see you stopped being coy about your ‘traveling companion.’ :)He even puts a smiley face at the end of his comment.Cut the bullshit, Mailin. Are you here for me or for Grant?I’m OBVIOUSLY here to get you. But
Once we say goodnight to JP, Dominique, and Marcel, Grant and I retire silently to our room. Things are so tense that there’s not really a question of us sleeping in the same bed. Grant chooses the one nearest the window, and I take the other. It’s like we’re staking out territory in an endless war.We are undressing for bed – and not in a sexy way, but in a I cannot fucking stand being in the same room with you kind of way – when Grant starts in on me again. “Why are you so upset about me wanting to protect you?”We’re apart from the others for the first time, so I feel like I can finally say what my real objection is. Plus, I’m sick to death of arguing. If we’re going to end it, let’s just end it now.“Because I think you just want to get rid of me and you can’t bear to do it to my face.”“What?! Where did you get that idea?!”“Oh, I don’t know – maybe because I really want to stay here and help you, and all you want to do is ship me off to parts unknown?”“If I wanted to break up w