Severed Ties

A Frenchman's Flair

Cameron

I wished she pulled the trigger.

At that moment, with her hands, firmly clasped against the hilt of the gun with defiance in her eyes and an unwavering voice that carried through the room, filling it to the brim with a dark tone that said don't mess with me.

"I said drop the gun Laurier," she bit out gritting her teeth and not even sneaking a glance at me, her full undivided attention was on the Frenchmen before us, a man who had caused far too much strife for us already. 

Though Laurier was either too stupid or too suave to care about the gun pointed straight at him, he laughed with a razor smile, baring his teeth as a deep baritone sound evacuated from his mouth, thin lips drawn into a mocking grin, "I don't doubt your drive, Ma Cherie, I know you will pull the trigger so let us just skip to the fun part mon amour," fury ran through me at Dane calling my Alara love. I wanted to shoot him right then and there.

"Don't call me love," she spat before I could, there was rage coursing through her veins, but she didn't shake, she didn't waver, she never gave in. 

Even with all of his underhanded comments, Alara wasn't affected, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you now, mon enemmi," she grinned at her last words, revelling in the surprise that flashed across Dane's sharp features.

"Vous parlez francais mon amour?" his smile was wolfish halfway between malice and pride, "I'm impressed."

"And I'm flattered," she spat sarcastically, "Now tell me what the hell you're doing here before I grow too tired of you,"

He took a confident step forward, his hands shoved into his pockets pulling up his blazer ever so slightly and revealing an inch of skin where his dress shirt became untucked, he watched her eyes, expecting them to drift down, he had done it deliberately unravelled himself before her, expecting that a bit of skin and a shadow of abs would make her swoon like so many girls before her.

But that wasn't Alara, she kept her eyes trained on his, she noticed it, I know she did but she didn't care, she even had the nerve to press him further, "I've seen better,"

I could tell Dane was hurt but I definitely wasn't, "Yes much better," her eyes rose to mine for the first time, she flushed red, cheeks pink with embarrassment, and she pulled her lip between her teeth in that adorable nervous habit of hers, and for a moment she was distracted.

I was distracted. 

Dane wasn't even a problem anymore as we locked eyes and spoke a thousand words to each other in one fleeting glance. 

"I doubt that," Dane grumbled and Alara's eyes were back to being trained on him.

Alara clicked the gun back and a definite splash of fear spread on his face, "I shot Cole what's stopping you from shooting you,"

He spread out his arms, flourishing them in a pathetic display of bravado, "I've got a Frenchman's Flair, that's why you're not going to,"

Alara seemed annoyed, she did something even I hadn't seen coming, she shifted her gun to the side, just inches away from Dane and fired, the bullet whistled through the air, crushing through the wall and leaving a trail of faint smoke from the barrel, she cocked her head to the side, mimicking Dane's own mocking smile, "Try me,"

Dane had barely flinched, but I knew there was new trepidation in his actions, "I can tell you are serious ma cherie so I will tell you straight, I have always known where you are,"

"How?" the one word was enough to command that she didn't need any more than that.

"Well, when you were in my custody-"

"When you kidnapped me," she snapped, a new flame of fury dancing in her wild eyes. 

"Semantics," Dane responded before leaning against the dining table, in a position that must have been highly uncomfortable with the glass digging into his back, though he didn't show any signs of discomfort, "That food you ate, the food Cole made sure you ate, contained a tracking chip,"

"You fucking piece of shit," Alara was next to him in a second, her gun dropped and her hands swinging before anyone could catch a breath she had socked her right hand right into his nose, and once again Alara had done some incredible damage to that appendage of Dane's.

"Fuck," he cursed, stumbling back a bit, with blood running down his nose, and it wasn't just a little it was pools of thick red sludge dripping down his nose and I could hear a distinctive crunch when Alara made contact with his face.

Alara was breathing heavily her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, crazed eyes staring down at her reddened knuckles and the slight smattering of blood on them.

I whistled lowly to break the tension, "You have one hell of a right hook there darling,"

If murder could be a look it was on Dane Laurier's face, "Again? Why the nose? I have other features you know," his accent came out more when he was angry which to me made him sound funnier but that could just me not understanding or appreciating as he put it A Frenchman's Flair

"Your nose looks pretty broken," the snide remark slid through her bared teeth as she gathered herself and her gun. 

I finally took the step towards her, "As much as I love seeing you all riled up and beating the shit out of this Frenchman, we need him alive to tell us why he was screaming bloody murder outside our door,"

Dane too collected himself, stuffing a wad of tissue up his nose that was already bright red, it took everything in me not to laugh, but Alara was way past the point of laughter, she was deadly serious, as serious as a confession of murder, "He won't be alive soon if he doesn't get his bloody tracker out of me,"

"It's not that simple ma cherie, you are so very important and so very valuable, I can't just remove it from you," he began to explain but Alara was having none of it. 

"Take it out now, or I will break more than just your nose," she threatened and it was clear as day that she would follow through on that promise. 

"Dane, I would take it out of her before this gets messy and I just have to watch as she tears you apart,"

"Didn't take you for a bystander Grayson," his snarky remark did nothing for me, I really couldn't care less about his opinion. 

"Get. It. Out. Of. Me. Now," she gritted out through exasperated breath, I tried to steady her, and she lifted a hand to her head, "Cameron," she whispered, her voice light and pained, her eyes scrunched at the corners as she let out a gasp of pain, I grabbed onto her arm as she shook, "Cameron I'm-" all of a sudden she fell, a heap in my arms, her eyes rolling back, her head hot to the touch, a look of pure anguish pressed against once graceful features that were fighting against a rising fever. 

"Alara darling, stay with me," my words were trying to be soothing but she was falling, crumbling into my arms and becoming completely and utterly undone.

I heard a light cough from Dane, who was smiling, a sick look of satisfaction webbing through his features, "Now that will be the tracker working,"

"What the fuck have you done?"

"What needed to be done, Grayson."