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   Chapter 12 12 Loyal

The Partnership By Natasha Larson Characters: 5470

Updated: 2018-07-21 12:50


I woke up at 4:37AM, still jet lagged, but unable to fall back asleep. I'd been wandering around the sleeping streets of Paris. It was passed the time of wandering drunks, but before the busy business hours began. The sun was creeping over the horizon, slowly starting the day with its bright beams.

I found my way to the Eiffel Tower and gazed up at it. I doubted that I'd have enough 'spare' time to go explore it, but I enjoyed being this close to it. I pulled out my phone and acknowledged the time, making my way back to our hotel. As I walked along the sidewalk, I was pulled to the side into an alley.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle, " the man cooed, using one hand to twirl his large black moustache. I hardly even heard him speak as my fist collided with his nose on reflex. He let go of me immediately and clutched his nose in pain. He let out a cry of agony and I brought my hands to my face. There was a speck of blood on my finger, but I didn't really notice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, je m'excuse!" I exclaimed, apologizing profusely, using what limited French I had. He yelled something at me that was probably a universal curse word. I quickly scurried away, leaving him alone in the shadowed alley. I nearly wiped the blood on my black pants, but I caught myself just in time. I got back to the motel without any more hassles. I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door.

A hand reached for my neck at lightning speed and although I wasn't ready for it, I still managed to catch it mid-swing and pull my attack over my shoulders. They fell to the floor with a thud, but used their legs to sweep me off my feet. I hadn't even clo

etty much destroyed and I sifted through the remains to find anything traceable. After disposing of everything, I tied my golden hair into a ponytail and got ready for the mission. "You coming, slowpoke?"

"Let me punch you in the tits, then we'll see how long it takes you." Grayson scowled, still limping a little bit.

"I probably wouldn't feel it, " I replied with a sly smile, looking down at my small boobs. "Just hurry up."

Once Grayson was finished, we left the room and started walking to our destination. We traveled in silences and once we arrived, we sat on a bench. We looked like typical tourists in our cute "I heart Paris" shirts. Soon enough, a burly man in all black approached us. His skin was covered in colourful ink and he spoke gruffly.

"You're the Canadians?" He inquired, only a slight accent to his voice.

"Yes, " Grayson answered, standing up. I stood up too, my 5'7" height seeming short to his 6'1" height. The man nodded and turned around, motioning for us to follow. With an affirmative nod, we starting to trail behind the man across the bridge.

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