Chapter 2
But only a day later his safe little world of an uninvolved carefree tourist came crashing down around him. He was walking along the Seine river, watching as the setting sun left soft specks of light on the water, bathing the walls of Notre Dame in an eerie golden light. Suddenly a familiar voice cut into his consciousness, and he whirled around, his eyes searching frantically for the source of that voice. A young dark-haired woman stood a few feet away from him, arguing about something with another man. Christian felt his breath catch in his throat. It was her. Even after 20 years he could recognize her anywhere. He used to know her so well. Her voice, her eyes, her every move.
The argument looked rather heated, and, at some point, the man grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. But she tore back from him, slapping his hand away forcefully and spit down at his feet before turning around and walking away to where Christian was standing. He remained glued to the spot, his eyes riveted to her petite figure, unable or afraid to make a move.
She saw him staring and stopped a short distance away, regarding him with a mixture of curiosity and distrust. And then a look of recognition flashed in her large green eyes, and she paled visibly. She looked away abruptly and began walking again, her pace quickening.
�Xandrie, wait!�
She stopped again, responding to his desperate call. Looking back at him, she pursed her lips, frowning at his pained expression. But her resolve was firm.
She couldn't do this right now. She just couldn't.
Shaking her head slightly, as if to chase away her own doubts, she stated coolly:
�I believe you have me mistaken with someone else, Monsieur.�
And she walked away without turning back.
Christian stared at her retreating back for a moment, disbelieving. What the hell was going on? He knew she recognized him. He could see it in her eyes. Why did she pretend not to�?
He bit his lower lip, a look of stubborn determination crossing his features. He wasn�t about to let that question remain unanswered as well.
He almost caught up with her, but she had crossed the street, and he had to wait on the other side, while the cars passed by. She noticed him and lingered at the edge of the sidewalk, watching him with the kind of longing, her eyes saying goodbye. And Christian knew somehow that, even before light turned green again, she�d be gone, and he would never see her again � she�d make sure of it.
He couldn't allow it.
He glanced around desperately, watching for a break in traffic flow. Finally there was one, and that�s when he saw it � a car pulling around the corner, heading slowly in her direction; a man he saw earlier arguing with her, sitting in the passenger�s seat; the black barrel of a gun slowly reaching out through the rolled-down window�..
Christian ran forward without thinking, screaming her name, screaming for her to get down. His mind registered the look of confusion replaced by fear on her face, just as he felt something slam into back, and he found himself falling forward on top of her.
He heard the car whiz by, its driver apparently deciding against a second try, at least at that very moment. He watched as Xandrie pulled herself out from underneath him, glancing nervously around at the gathering crowd. Everything was growing darker.
She looked back down at him, and he heard her words, muffled, �We need to get out of here, Christian, before la police. Can you get up?�
Finally, he thought, she admitted she recognized me. The thought made him smile.
�Your hair � is � longer�,� he whispered. Then everything went black.