Beyond Chance (5 page)

I don’t know what I expected when I reached
the terminal, but it looked like every other airport I’d been in,
except everything was in French. I’d planned on stopping at the
restroom and touching up my makeup and hair, but I didn’t care any
longer. I just wanted to get to Aaron. I followed the signs with
the arrows pointing toward the baggage claim, hoping I wouldn’t get
lost. I kept scanning the crowds around me, mostly hearing English,
as I kept moving toward the baggage claim. I spotted a few BuY
PARIS duty-free shops and my heart skipped a beat. Being in Paris
didn’t feel real. I guess I still had to wrap my head around the
fact that I would be living in Paris. For several months, this city
would be my home.

I glanced at the signs leading me to the
correct baggage carousel. As I wheeled through the crowd of people,
I heard his voice.

“Brandy, over here,” Aaron’s voice was like
a lightning rod to my soul. I swear I could power the entire city
off the excitement I was feeling.

I looked through the crowd and saw Aaron
walking quickly toward me. His stride was so long, it took him only
a few steps to reach me. He looked amazing. He was dressed in a
pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, which showcased the tautness of
his body. His dark hair was cut a little shorter and stubble traced
along his jawline. To say he looked sensational was putting it
mildly.

I jumped on my toes and released my
suitcase, which dropped to the ground. He grabbed me in his arms
and hugged me tightly, as he somehow kicked my suitcase in between
us. Being in his embrace made all my worries drift away. This was
where I belonged.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered.
“Absolutely gorgeous.”

His mouth curled slightly as he touched my
cheek and drew my lips to his. It was like I hadn’t a care in the
world being in his arms. The warmth of his mouth, and the
tenderness of his touch pulsed such pleasurable sensations through
me that I almost lost my bearings. As I savored everything about
Aaron, my fingers tangled through his hair, and our kisses
deepened. The hustle and bustle of the airport stilled in our small
corner of the world, and it didn’t matter that I was in Paris. It
only mattered that I was in the arms of the man I loved.

He took a step back, still holding me, and I
looked into his dark eyes, smiling sheepishly as I glanced around
the airport.

“That was a nice welcome,” I whispered,
wishing I was still tasting his lips.

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”
He smirked, and the adorable grin that always got me in trouble
rattled my insides. He picked up the suitcase and slipped his free
hand into mine. “It finally feels like home now that you’re
here.”

His statement swirled the emotions I’d
already bottled up for him, and all I wanted to do was get to the
apartment and show him my appreciation.

“I’m so happy to be here,” I whispered,
looking into his eyes. “The last forty-eight hours didn’t go as
planned.”

Aaron let out a sigh as we walked toward the
carousel that had started moving baggage along the wide metal
conveyer.

“No kidding. I still can’t believe it. It
just makes me so angry,” he said, as we stood in front of the
carousel. “I swear to God if he was in front of me I don’t know
what I’d do.”

I flashed him a grin because I knew exactly
what he’d do to him and it was flattering. “Me too. I thought I’d
moved past it all.”

He bit his lip and shook his head as his
body rocked back and forth. “If we need to stay here longer, we
can.”

I shook my head. “Thanks. I don’t know what
to do or make of it.”

He nodded. “I know and there’s no rush.”

Searching for my two bags, I nodded and
watched the carousel intently. Catching a familiar gleam in Aaron’s
eyes, my stomach flip-flopped at the thought of being alone with
him again. Three weeks had been far too long. If anything could
help get my mind off things, it would be spending some quality time
with him alone in an apartment in Paris. I was so busy daydreaming,
I didn’t even notice the first bag until he said something.

“Suitcase one,” he said, reaching over and
hauling the large, brown suitcase off the belt. It hit the floor
with a thud as I spied the next suitcase rounding the corner.

“And suitcase two,” I said, pointing.

He picked it off the carousel and positioned
my carryon bag on top of one of the large suitcases, wrapping it
with a strap.

“I can take one of those,” I said.

“You’ve got enough to worry about. Just keep
an eye on your purse and other bag. Keep them in front of you and
zipped until we reach the car. There are a lot of greedy little
hands willing to dig right into our bags and pockets.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Seriously. I actually got to meet one of
the friendly thieves as she was reaching her fingers into my pocket
as I walked into the airport this afternoon.” He shook his head and
adjusted the bags before taking a step.

“She? No way. What did you do?”

“She ran away as soon as I grabbed for her
hand, but from what everyone’s told me, that’s just how it is. It’s
even worse around the tourist traps and on the Metro.”

“That’s not exactly what I imagined.” I
followed him out of the airport and to a waiting car. The driver
jumped out of the sedan and took the bags from Aaron, securing them
in the trunk.

I looked around the busy terminal, hearing
the honks of horns and yelling as I stepped inside the vehicle,
which he’d filled with white roses.

Aaron followed behind. “Welcome to
Paris.”

My entire body warmed as I took a seat next
to one of the large, wrapped bouquets. The air was filled with the
glorious scent of roses, and the electricity charging between us
was filled with hunger for one another.

“This is quite the welcome,” I whispered,
buckling in.

Aaron skirted a finger along my arm and
leaned in as the driver got us on our way. “You look even more
sensational than I remembered,” Aaron murmured.

My entire body sprang to life as the spark
between us renewed.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I
teased. “Paris has been good to you.”

He shrugged and sat back in the seat, taking
my hand in his. “It’s been interesting. I’ve been trying to get as
much work done as I could before you got here so I wouldn’t be
completely buried when you arrived.”

“You’re here for work. That comes first,” I
said, nestling my head on his shoulder. It felt so good to be back
in his arms.

“You come first,” he corrected. “But I think
I’ve got some great things planned for us. Unfortunately, tonight
won’t be one of them.”

“What’s going on tonight?” I asked.

“The owner of the gallery is holding a
dinner that we’ve been invited to.”

“That sounds fun.”

“I know what would be more fun.” He smiled
and squeezed my hand.

“Who’s to say we can’t do both?” My brow
arched, and he swept a kiss along my cheek giving a low chuckle in
return.

I watched the scenery go by as we drove down
the highway. Surprised by the amount of graffiti tagged on
different buildings and walls, I pointed and Aaron laughed.

“For some reason, I assumed Paris was immune
to graffiti artists,” I said.

“Wait until you see it in the city. Nothing
like seeing a beautiful masonry building with stepped terraces and
red geraniums overflowing through the wrought iron, and then a huge
tag right next to it.”

I laughed. “Guess nowhere is immune.”

Aaron wrapped his arm around my shoulders
and brought me in closer. His breath feathered across my scalp, and
I felt completely safe in his embrace. This was where I needed to
be—far away from the craziness of the trial and the man behind the
notes.

“So you don’t mind about dinner tonight?” he
asked. “It certainly wasn’t what I’d planned.”

“Not at all. I’d love to meet the brilliant
man who recognized such talent. Meeting new people will be good.
It’ll take my mind off of everything going on.”

Aaron let out a sigh. “Did you read any of
your messages?”

“No. I just bolted off the plane to you. I
didn’t really want to know, and I doubt they found out anything
anyway.”

There was a restrained silence filling the
car, and I knew that I was wrong. Really wrong. I wasn’t certain
that I wanted to hear what Aaron or anyone had to say about the
matter. It was bad enough to be in an accident because someone
hated me so much, but now it was like the evil would never go away.
Never before had I fully understood the victim’s side of things in
law. It made me rethink what I wanted to study if I went back to
school.

I glanced up at Aaron and saw the expression
in his eyes. He needed to tell me, and I needed to listen. No
matter what temporary fantasy I wanted to play with myself, it
wasn’t fair to the ones who loved me. They had to recover from the
events as much as I did.

“Alright. Let me have it,” I sighed.

“The letter wasn’t sent from Derek
Bourot.”

My blood chilled with Aaron’s statement.

“What do you mean? How is that
possible?”

Aaron squeezed me closer. “He had a cousin
he’d conned into sending it. They arrested him, but the detectives
think there’s more to this.”

“Why’s that? Are you sure they’re not
reading too much into it?”

Aaron bit his lip and glanced out the
window. “They think we’re dealing with a group of very unstable
individuals. Derek is very persuasive, and there is far more
involved than the detectives originally realized. Once they
arrested his cousin, they learned more.”

“How so?” My palms became slick with sweat.
How could this turn from one psychopath to a family of them? That
wasn’t how things worked. Was it?

“He’s very manipulative, and he apparently
tapped into a couple of causes that allowed him to develop a
following. The people who believed in him are very upset and feel
he’s being wrongly accused. They see Derek as the victim.”

“They’re fools,” I muttered.

“Be that as it may, they’re on the outside
and think they’re fighting for a cause. They feel that he was
wrongly accused.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was. There is good news out of
this.”

“What’s that?”

“You received another letter, and this one
was from Texas so that makes it a federal crime since it went
across state lines.”

“That’s good news?”

“The FBI’s involved now.”

I drew in a deep breath as my head began to
jumble with information. It felt like my world was coming down
around me. The fact that there were people out in the world who
believed Derek Bourot’s lies scared me beyond belief. I knew what
he was capable of, but I couldn’t let my mind imagine what he could
convince others to do.

“He’s created quite an online presence and
the following he has is cause for concern. He’s using religion as
the catapult for all this.”

“What do you mean
all this
?”

Aaron took out his phone and went to his
email. Scrolling through his inbox, Aaron pressed his lips together
and handed me the phone.

“The investigators never found this
information when they were searching his apartment. He was using an
anonymizer and wiped his disc clean every time he logged onto the
chat rooms.”

“Chat rooms?” I asked, staring down at the
screen.

To my horror, he had three hundred and seven
followers. In the scheme of life that wasn’t many, but that meant
there were possibly three hundred and seven individuals who were
willing to cause my family harm. I let out a shaky breath and began
reading the sermons of Derek Bourot.

The city gave me chills. I’d never been
somewhere that held this much beauty and history any direction I
turned. Our car slowly made its way along the tiny streets, and I
took everything in about the fantastical city that I’d be calling
home. Aaron held my hand as I peered out the window absorbing the
French baroque buildings with their pilasters and ornate detailing
around the windows and doors. It was like I’d been whisked back to
another time until the horns sounded from behind and placed me
firmly back in the twenty-first century. This beauty was what I
needed to focus on—not some creep behind bars back in the
states.

“It’s breathtaking,” I whispered.

“I thought we could drive around before we
head to the apartment. Give you a flavor of the city.”

I flashed him a smile and nodded before
turning my gaze back to the streets of Paris. The sidewalks were
bustling, and the buildings seemed almost alive with the ghosts of
another time. Cafés marked every other opening with bakeries,
bookstores, galleries, and floral shops in between. My heart
skipped a beat as I saw the beauty of one florist spilling onto the
sidewalk in a carpet of petals and an arch of fuchsia and white
roses inviting patrons inside. The sidewalks seemed to belong to
the businesses as much as they did to the city. A real dialogue
between the city and the people was evident. There wasn’t one café
that didn’t kiss the sidewalk with tables and chairs inviting
patrons to take a seat as they walked by.