Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

COLETTE

“Room service is here,” someone calls out from the other side of the door.

Merrick lifts his head, his gaze dancing as he looks into my eyes. Then he clears his throat, shifts his face closer to mine again, and touches his lips to mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss. It’s just a brush of his mouth against my own, but it calms me in an instant.

He takes a step backward, reaches for the door, and tugs it open. I watch as he moves to the side, jerking his chin for me to continue forward. I only pass by him and stand in the small hallway to wait for him.

Merrick doesn’t say anything. Instead, he holds out his hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and silently tugs me behind him as he walks toward the living area. When I step out from behind him, I gasp at the sight that meets me.

It’s not just a cart with food. It’s a dozen carts with silver domed plates. They’re everywhere and fill up the entire living room space. I blink, unsure of what to do. The men aren’t reaching for any of them. In fact, they are all watching me, staring at me, but not uncomfortably. They are curious.

I take one step forward, and that’s when Merrick releases his grasp on me. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered one of everything. If you want more, just tell me.”

“One of everything?” I ask.

He hums, but I can’t even look back at him. If I do, I think I’ll probably cry.

Instead, I continue to walk toward the rolling carts. Reaching for the first silver dome, I curl my fingers around the little piece that sticks up and pull it off the plate. It’s a plate of blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, fresh blueberries sprinkled around, and bananas.

It looks amazing.

“I think this one is desserts,” a voice calls out.

I don’t look up to see who said it. Turning toward that cart, I walk over and almost whimper at the huge ice cream sundae that sits in the middle. It’s a bowl filled with perfectly rounded scoops of vanilla ice cream, covered in chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and even with a cherry on top.

“I would probably eat that first so it doesn’t melt,” that same voice says, standing close to me. Lifting my gaze, I see that it’s Theron. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. At his wedding, actually. He looks good with a smile playing on his lips, and his eyes are dancing with delight as he watches my awe.

“Okay,” I breathe, then I slide my attention across the room and take in the other men, who are all watching me. “I can’t eat all of this on my own. Please, everyone, get something.”

They don’t move. I watch as their eyes lift behind my shoulder, and I realize they’re looking to Merrick for approval. He must give it because a few seconds later, the lids are being lifted, and conversations begin to flow.

Reaching for the sundae and spoon, I pick it up before I walk over to the small kitchen and sink down on one of the barstools. Dipping my spoon into the soft ice cream, I bring it to my lips and close my eyes with a moan as soon as it touches my taste buds.

Someone clears their throat loudly. My eyes pop open, and I turn my head to the side to connect with Merrick’s gaze. His lips twitch into a smirk before he shakes his head a couple of times.

He doesn’t say anything before his attention is taken by one of the guys, and they get into a conversation. I have no clue what any of them are talking about because I am so focused on this sundae that I can’t think or concentrate on anything else.

Turning back to the food, I finish it as quickly as possible. Then I make a dash for the pancakes. I need them. I’m suddenly starving. It’s like the first taste of food has ignited something inside of me, and now I’m eating as though I’ve been starved for a decade instead of just a few weeks.

The pancakes go down just as quickly as the ice cream did. My next mission is something with protein. It doesn’t take me long to find what I’m looking for. Instead of another sweet or breakfast-type item, I have found chicken marsala with a side of pasta.

Score.

I don’t even bother taking it back to my barstool. I sink down on the edge of the sofa, place the plate on my knees, dip my chin, and open my mouth. I’m not sure I even take a breath as I completely inhale the contents of the plate.

Only when it’s gone do I sit up and lean back against the couch, closing my eyes before I let out a heavy exhale. I hear men’s laughter, which breaks me out of my food coma. Opening my eyes, I lift my head and look around, noticing that they’re all watching me and smiling.

“What?” I ask.

It’s Merrick who speaks. He’s holding a french fry in his hand. He shakes his head a couple of times. “It’s good to see you eat, baby. Don’t stop now.”

I snort. “I think I’ve had more than enough for tonight. I went a little crazy.”

I can feel my cheeks grow hot, and I know they’re likely bright pink with my embarrassment. I made a whole pig of myself, and if I’m being completely honest, I really could eat some more.

It feels like I’m eating for the first time in my whole life. Maybe I was just surviving for my entire life, but right now, I want to live. My world was in black and white, but now that I’m free, everything is in color.

Food tastes better, looks amazing, and fills me. I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going, and then I want to try anything and everything that I can think to try and see if it’s just food or maybe if everything tastes more amazing now that I’m free.

Freedom is something that I didn’t realize was tangible. It is. It’s a taste, a smell, a breeze that is constant. I love it, and now that I truly have it, I never want to lose it. I understand why people are willing to die for it.

MERRICK

Colette eats enough food for three people, and it’s fucking beautiful to watch. However, she does slow down as she devours chicken marsala and truffle risotto, and then finally, she ends her meal with a second dessert, a chocolate torte with an Oreo-looking crust.

We still have footage to go over, and I know that I need to focus on that, but I can’t tear my attention away from my woman. She’s so fucking beautiful. She’s so fucking at peace. I still have so many questions that I need answers to, but not today. Not right now.

Hopefully, I never have to ask her. I want her to tell me because she trusts me, and I know that we’ll have to do that on both sides. I need her to trust me as much as I need to trust her.

We’ll get there, but until then, I’ll be doing whatever it takes to keep her safe, and until I can figure out who the fucker is who thought he could marry her, she’s not a hundred-percent safe.

The guys and I start to talk about our schedules and when we’ll be leaving here. Who will go to work and catch up at the office, and who will take whatever shifts need to be taken. I look over and see that Colette has fallen asleep.

She’s lying down, her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes closed, with her head resting on a pillow. I can’t stop the smile from playing on my lips at the sight of her. She needs the sleep.

As much as I want to pick her up and take her to the bedroom, I know that if I do, I won’t make it back out here to work with my brothers. I’ll be too busy fucking my woman. Being inside of her again is all I can think about, and I need to shift my focus right now.

I jerk my chin toward Theron. His brows snap together, and I mouth that she’s asleep. A few moments later, we gather all our things and move into Theron’s room. I drag a chair behind me and set it up in the corner.

We all finish watching the front door of the church footage and see nothing. Not a single fucking thing. The man has his head tipped the whole time. Zero distinguishing marks. I don’t even see the license plate on the car that drives him away.

“What the fuck?” Boden asks. “How in the fuck can he go in one door, out the other, and we still have no fucking clue who he is?”

Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times, but it’s Theron who speaks first. “Can we get any intel on the man who’s with him?” he asks.

“Nothing. His face is hidden.”

We don’t say anything immediately. We’re all still staring at our computers with no idea of what to do next. At least not yet. Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes and let out a sigh.

“I guess we just go home and I’ll try to continue the search,” I mutter as I straighten.

Grayson clears his throat. “Colette isn’t safe until those fucks are taken care of.”

He’s right. I know he is. Colette isn’t safe until they’re all dead. Every single fucker will need to be ended—and slowly. I’m just not sure how to get that done. Lifting my hand to my face, I rub my chin a couple of times while I think about what to do next. What I need is for Colette to tell me who the fuck this guy is.

“Before we leave, is there any way we can get Adriano Bellucci alone?” I ask.

Vaughn clears his throat, shifting in his seat a few times before he speaks. “We’re going to have to. Think we can go now?” he asks.

“Let’s do it,” I say as I set my iPad on the floor and stand to my feet.

I’m ready to get the fuck out of here right this second, but then I remember that I’ve got a woman to protect, and no way in fuck am I taking her to her father. I don’t need him trying to pull any shit. Colette might not be my wife anymore, but she’s still mine, and I’m not giving her up this time without a goddamn fight.

“We need someone to stay with Colette,” I murmur. “I can’t take her with me, and she can’t stay here alone.”

I want to stay with her, but at the same time, I want to face her father. “I’ll stay with her,” Theron states. “She’ll just be asleep, and it’ll give me some time to call Lucille and check in with her.”

That’s that.

We all gather our shit and head out of the hotel suite, but not before I stop and take a long hard look at my woman. Mine . She is that, too. Colette is all mine now, and I am never going to let her go—not ever again.