Bonbons and Betrayal: Book 3 in The Chocolate Cafe Series (10 page)

Mac felt sick. He was disgusting – a figure that should’ve been pitied, if not for the blood lust contorting his ruined face. She just needed to get him secured and check on Louis.

“Get up.” Mac said, pulling at his collar.

With a sudden swiftness, Eisenhower grabbed Mac’s hand holding the gun, and pressed it against his forehead.

Despite herself, Mac gasped and tried to pull away. She couldn’t. Although he wasn’t any bigger than her own petite frame, he had the wiry power of desperation in him.

“Kill me!” he hollered through his sobs. “Kill me now. Get it over with. Just do it.” He continued to scream at her, yanking at her arm and doing his best to bypass Mac’s hand and squeeze the trigger.

The wind roared around them now, Mac’s hair stinging her face where it whipped like wire.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t…” He screamed, the tendons in his neck bulging.

Mac yanked her hand back as hard as she could, finally freeing herself from his wet grasp. Without a thought otherwise, she flipped the gun around in her hand and brought the butt of it down sharply on the side of the screaming man’s head.

He was abruptly silenced and folded neatly to the ground.

Her own sobs burning a path in her chest, Mac turned directly to the still running car and tore open the back door.

His long limbs were crumpled at odd angles and he was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, but Louis was alive. Thank god he was alive.

Now shaking violently, Mac scrambled into the back seat and began to pull at the duct tape that Eisenhower had wrapped across Louis’ mouth. Without his glasses, his eyes looked bigger than ever. However, they only got wider when Mac managed to finally yank the tape off his face, taking a good portion of his new beard with it.

“I’m so sorry,” Mac said, her voice trembling as much as her body. “Are you ok?”

She set to work on his hands, squeezing her soaking body between his and the back seat to rip at the tape with her teeth.

‘I’m fine,” Louis said, between gasps for air. “How did you… ?”

The tape finally gave way. With a single yank, Louis freed his hands. Sitting up, his head bowed in the compact back seat, he immediately took Mac into his arms. Mac resisted, desperate to check him for any injuries. She took his face in her freezing hands, wiping the blood away from the cut on his forehead.

“What did he do to you? Tell me you’re ok...” she said breathlessly.

“You shot out of the wheel of the car,” Louis said, his voice steadying through his gasps. “You hunted us down on a motorbike and shot out the wheels of the car. You didn’t call anybody? You just came after me?”

She certainly had. She had pulled off the chaos maneuver.

“He’s out there…” Mac said, her throat suddenly grew tight and tears threatened. “He wanted me to kill him. He was going to kill you, too, just like he killed...”

“Like he killed Creed. I heard it all.”

Remembering Eisenhower’s body in the middle of the road, Mac felt another unwelcome wave of panic. “We need to get him back in the car before he wakes up…”

She went to get out of the car but Louis grabbed her arm. He pulled her to him wordlessly, and smoothed her hair out of her face.

He looked so much younger, almost vulnerable, without his glasses. Mac was momentarily stunned by how beautiful he was, even with blood on his face and a half-harvested beard.

“Absolutely infuriating,” he said and kissed her. His lips were warm, tenderly embracing hers and sending a jolt through Mac strong enough to make her almost forget about the unconscious criminal in the middle of the road.

They parted breathlessly, their foreheads, bloody and soaking wet, respectively pressed against each other’s.

“We should probably get him out of the road,” Louis said quietly.

“I think that would be wise.”

“To rebel girls and their motorbikes, long may they ride!” Louis lifted a pottery mug that had been left behind by the previous owners in a drunken salute. Brie laughed and raised her own badly made mug.

“To the chaos maneuver,” she said triumphantly. Louis and Mac cheered loudly, almost drowning out the incessant battering of the wind against the windows.

The three of them were sitting on the floor in Louis’ oceanside crow’s nest. The storm that had ushered in the drama three days ago had only just died down before another rolled into town. This one had the courtesy to turn out the power however, and what had begun as a wine infused chocolate feast had been transformed into a candlelight celebration.

Between the three of them was a selection of Sabrina’s newest works of art. Cleared entirely of obsessive relationships, her creative mind was back and sharper than ever.

In the candlelight, the chocolates glistened like exotic jewels. Brandied plum enrobed in dark chocolate, rose and Madagascar vanilla cream swirled with milk chocolate so creamy it coated the tongue…. there were at least six different varieties and, of course, six bottles of wine to match.

Mac raised her own bumpy mug.

“To the two most important people in my life,” she said, feeling safe in the cozy veil of a good red wine. “You…” she turned to Brie. “Don’t you ever chase another man again. You let them chase you.” Brie smiled and laughed.

“Done,” she said. “It’s chocolate and
online dating for me from now on.”

Mac rolled her eyes.

“Not exactly what I meant,” she said. “And you…” She turned her uncharacteristically gregarious attentions to Louis. He looked like a praying mantis, all arms and legs on the floor – the still healing bump on his forehead looking larger in the shadow of the candle light.

“I lo…” she began. Mac clapped her hand over her mouth, swallowing her words as fast as they threatened to pour out.

Louis’s eyes widened, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

“I’m sorry… you what??”

“I...”

“You what?” He sat up straighter, obviously enjoying her discomfort.
Of course he knew…
Mac thought.
What was wrong in saying it out loud? What would happen if she did? Would her world crack in two? Would she be instantly locked into a suburban home somewhere with a child on each hip? It wasn’t a magic word after all…it was just a phrase. She loved him, obviously… So she should just…

“She loves your beard,” Brie interjected. “Adores it. Especially the parts that are bald from the tape. Can’t get enough of it.”

Louis flapped his hands in front of his face like a beauty queen trying to dry her tears.

“Oh my gosh, is that true?” He said, attempting to drop his accent in favor of a southern one. “Do you love it, do you really, really love it??”

“Yes,” Mac said, taking another sip of her wine. She looked at him over the crooked rim of her mug as he sent her best friend into hysterics with his terrible American accent, “I really do.”