French Connection Vol. 3 Read Online Free PDF

quick text saying I was coming to him and waited for his response. If he said just to call him, I'd know it wasn't as urgent as he'd made it sound. Instead, I got a message that simply said, “Hurry.”
    It didn't matter how angry I'd been or where things had been left between us. I went. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him.
    The cab driver didn't even blink when I gave him the name of the club and I tried desperate to keep my mind off of all the possibilities that swirled in my head. By the time we reached the club, my nerves were frayed and I barely even glanced at the bills I gave to the driver.
    The man at the door opened it for me and gave a polite nod as I walked by. The place was half-full of people I assumed were mostly tourists and half-naked waitresses who were barely wearing more than the women on stage. I found it strange that a country with topless beaches still had strip clubs that thrived. I supposed it was the difference between women just walking around and seeing them dance and grind.
    I caught movement toward the back and looked up. Gavin was coming toward me, an expression of pure relief on his face. I started his way, now even more worried about what was going on. It couldn't have been just because I'd gone to see Pierre. That would've been a bit of an overreaction.
    He pulled me into his arms without saying a word and, for a moment, I relaxed into his embrace. I let myself pretend everything was okay and then pulled back. Gavin didn't let me go far though. He slid his arm around my shoulders and led me back to the booth next to where Vincent was standing.
    “Carrie.” Vincent nodded.
    “Vincent.”
    He glanced at Gavin and a silent message seemed to pass between the two of them. “I think I will leave you two alone to talk. You can speak freely here.”
    “Thanks, Vincent,” Gavin said. He waited until Vincent started toward the front of the club before motioning for me to sit.
    Now that it was just the two of us in a secluded booth I assumed was meant for private dances, all of the day's previous emotions came flooding back. I stayed on the opposite side of the table, my hands clenched on my lap, and waited for him to explain himself.
    He raked his hand through his hair and I saw that it was still damp. “I'm not sure where to start.”
    I tried not to scowl as I leaned in so that I was sitting closer to him. The music was too loud for us to have an entire conversation sitting across from each other without leaning in. Probably why Vincent had said we were free to talk here.
    “Just say it, Gavin,” I said.
    A flash of something crossed his face and then vanished. I recognized that look, the guarded expression, and I hated it.
    “There are some things about Vincent and Alizee that you need to know.”
    I wasn't going to sit here and let him treat me like I was too stupid or naïve to know what was going on. “I know.”
    His eyes widened. “What do you mean you know? How?”
    “I was there.”
    Now he looked confused. “I just found out what was going on not more than twenty minutes ago. I don't understand.”
    “Do I need to spell it out for you?” I snapped. “I was at the docks this morning and saw you on your little 'business trip.' You know, the one supposedly with Vincent. The one with your lips wrapped around Alizee on her yacht. Yeah. That one.”
    All the color drained from Gavin's face and I saw him putting pieces together.
    “You – you were there?”
    “Yes, Gavin, I was there. And I got quite the eyeful.” I crossed my arms, digging my nails into my upper arms to keep myself from crying. I needed to channel my anger, not my hurt.
    “Carrie, babe, that's not... I mean, it isn't...” He slammed his hand down on the table. “Dammit!” His eyes flashed. “Why didn't you just say something?”
    “What was I supposed to say?” I avoided the question. “You lied to me about where you were going and who you were going to be with. Unless, of course, you