Page 15

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and rub a towel through my hair, just enough to keep it from dripping. I’m still high from last night, from having Ella finally admit how much she wants me. I was beginning to think it would never happen.

Something thuds outside the bathroom and I pause, listening. Did Ella drop something in the kitchen? Another thud, and this time, it’s followed by a small squeak that makes my blood run cold. I open the bathroom door and duck beneath a man’s outstretched hand, catching the arm in a brutal hold that snaps his elbow the wrong way.

I’m scanning for Ella, heart pounding at the thought of something happening to her while I was a room away, but the room is in chaos. There are men everywhere. One in the kitchen, the man whose elbow I just broke, and one more in the living room. Before I can take another step into the room to find Ella, the man with the broken elbow swings at me with his other arm, this one clutching a knife nearly the length of my forearm.

The thought of armed men in the room with Ella sends me into overdrive. I dodge to one side, avoiding the knife, and kick the man in his gut hard enough to send him backward into the wall. His head cracks back against it with a thud. While he’s dazed, I leap forward and follow it with a kick to the groin, then knock the knife from his hand when he doubles over.

It slides across the floor, and we both reach for it, but he’s slow, groaning in pain, and my hand closes around it first. I slash once, twice, at his neck, and blood streams from the gashes. His fingers clamp over the wounds, but it’s obvious to both of us that there’s no staunching the flow; he’s a dead man.

“Ella?” I yell, heart pounding in my ears.

Ella screams, and I spot her struggling up from the couch where a man is pinning her down. My vision tunnels to that one man. He’s going to regret that. I rush forward, but the man from the kitchen tackles me. He’s huge, at least a hundred pounds on me, and he’s using it to his advantage. We crash together into the table, and he’s got one hand on the back of my head, trying to brain me on the edge of it. But my arms are free, and I reach back, driving the point of the knife into his stomach, burying it to the hilt. Blood seeps over my fingers and my grip is slick, but I manage to pull it up and stab again.

The man slumps over on top of me and fuck he’s heavy. I roll out from underneath him and yank the knife free as I go, wasting no time. There’s only one man left, and he’s been my target this entire time, the man with his hands on my girl. It’ll be the last thing he does.

He’s distracted by my approach, and Ella takes the opportunity to try and break free, but the man grabs her by the throat and flings her back down onto the couch. Hard. She hits it and then the floor, but with him between us, I can’t get there to cushion her fall. This bastard is going to die a painful death.

I lunge at him before he recovers from abusing Ella, slicing at his face as he turns back to face me. The blade catches him in the cheek, and the skin splits. I was aiming for an eye, but the handle is so wet with blood that it’s hard to control. I’m pleased to see that his arms and neck are covered in angry red scratches from Ella’s nails. She’s a fighter.

I should’ve given her the tools to defend herself before this, and I’ll be pissed at myself for that mistake for a long time—self-defense classes, time at the shooting range—but I trusted that her distance from all this shit would protect her. It’s my fault she’s in danger. She’s scrabbling backward, and my stomach flips with relief that she’s able to move, not knocked out cold by this asshole. Who the fuck hits a woman like that?

He throws out a kick when I get in range, and I slam the blade home into his thigh, punching through skin and muscle. Stumbling backward, his knees hit the couch and he folds. I’m on him, pounding my fists into his stomach and face, everywhere he leaves uncovered for a second.

My knuckles tear and split, but so does his nose, his lip, his eyebrow. He gets in a punch that doubles me over, right to my kidney, because I’m too blinded by rage, by the need to rip this man apart, to bother defending myself. Despite the beating he’s taken, he capitalizes on the moment by shoving me off of him and driving us both to the floor. It’s clumsier than he wants it to be with his useless leg, and the second we’re down, I flip us over, pinning him to the floor and raining another series of blows down on his head.

He groans, and this time, I don’t think he’s getting up again. I get to my feet and yank the knife from his leg, releasing a gush of blood that quickly puddles on the floor, then drive it down into his throat.

“That’s for touching my girl,” I say, over his final, gurgling breaths.

I leave him to bleed out, breathing hard as I go to Ella. She’s curled up with her knees to her chest, sobbing. There’s blood everywhere, and I’m sure I look gruesome because her eyes widen in fear when I kneel down in front of her and gently pry her hands from where they’re covering her face.

“You’re okay now,” I soothe, checking her over as best I can for any injuries. She’s so curled in on herself that it’s difficult to tell. “You’re okay. They’re gone.”

For now, anyway. Who were those men, and why were they here? I tuck those questions to the back of my mind for the moment and urge Ella to her feet. She’s unsteady, legs wobbling, and I gather her into my arms to support her before she falls again. Shit. Did she get a concussion when she went down?

“Look at me, Ella.” I take her chin gently between my fingers and lift it until she’s forced to look into my eyes. I search hers for any sign of confusion, then hold up a finger and wave it slowly back and forth in front of her face, checking for any delay. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

She sniffles. “One. Just one.”

“Good, that’s good.” I wrap my arm around her and feel her tremble. Shock. This scenario is so far out of the anything she’s ever experienced that her mind and her body are completely freaking out. I should’ve prepared her. Shouldn’t have thought I could shield her from this forever. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to sit right here and drink some water while I make a call. Then we’re going to get out of here. You’re safe now, I promise.”

Another promise. I hope I can keep it like I kept the last one. I’ll do everything in my power to. I get her seated on a kitchen chair, as far from the bodies as I can maneuver it, and pour her a glass of water, making sure she takes a sip before I grab my phone and dial Anya.

It rings and rings, then goes through to voicemail. Panic flares again. Did they get her, too? She’s not defenseless, but this was four against two, and if they sent the same numbers over to her room, then I don’t know how she could have fought them off.

I dial again, praying to anyone who will listen that she’ll pick up and be okay. This time, she does.

“I’m at brunch,” Anya says, and I can hear chatter from her end of the line. “You’re interrupting my mimosas. What’s up?”

I breathe out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thank fuck. Where are you?”

“Back at the hotel with my friends. I couldn’t bail on the brunch plans; we made them when we got here. I would’ve invited Ella, but she was gone when I woke up. Is she with you?”

“Yes. Stay there.” My mind is moving fast, spinning at a hundred miles an hour as I try to figure out the best course of action. Is Anya safe there? It seems like they don’t know she’s in the area.

Anya scoffs, annoyed. “Excuse you? I’m not a dog, you can’t just tell me to sit and stay.” She picks up on my mood, finally, and her voice drops low. “What is it? Is something wrong? You sound moodier than usual.”

“We were attacked.” I don’t want to worry her, but I do need her alert and vigilant.

“What?” There’s a scrape of a chair being pushed back, and the noise in the background gets quieter. I think she’s moved away from the table. “What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it right now,” I say, glancing over at Ella. She’s staring down at the water glass in her hands like it has some explanations. “We have to move. I just needed to make sure you were safe. Be careful. Don’t take any risks. I’ll be in touch once I figure out what’s going on.”

I click off and turn my attention back to Ella, wishing they were both here so I could protect them more easily. Hopefully, Anya being surrounded by a group of people, as she is all the time, is enough protection for the moment. The hotel room is trashed. It takes me a minute to find Ella’s purse, phone, and laptop in the chaos, but they’re all there and intact. Clearly, this is not a robbery. So much for dreaming that this wasn’t entirely my fault.

The last thing I grab is my gun, which is sitting completely useless in the bedroom. Not that I would have wanted to use it with Ella in the room, but it’s a good lesson about vigilance. I let my guard down, and it could have gone worse. Much worse. My heart gives a painful stutter at the thought of what could’ve happened to Ella. But it didn’t and it never will. I’ll keep her safe. She doesn’t have to leave me. But can I reassure her of that?

“Time to move.” I ease the cup from Ella’s hand and set it on the table, then tug her to her feet. She’s not trembling anymore, at least. “We need to get out of here.”

“Do you think there’s more?” Ella asks, her eyes skipping over the bodies on the floor. She closes her eyes for a long, slow blink, and when she opens them again, her face is set. Determined.

I shoulder our bag and guide her around the scattered objects to the front door. No damage that I can see. Either the door was unlocked, or Ella let them in. We’re going to have to have a serious talk about security protocol if she doesn’t run away and never speak to me again after this.

“Unlikely,” I reply, hoping it’s true. My senses are on high alert. The hall is empty, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Anyone could come out of one of the other rooms. “But better to be safe. I’ve got a place for us to go and we can figure out what the fuck just happened.”

Since I’m covered in blood and Ella looks like she’s been through it, I take us out the back way, through the service entrance, where there’s less of a chance of running into someone. On the way down, I message the car to meet us out back.

“You look like something out of a horror movie,” Ella says when we step out into the sunlight behind the hotel. She pulls her sleeve down over her hand and tries to wipe some of the blood off my face and chest. “I don’t know if they’ll let you in the car like that.”

“They will,” I assure her, pulling her close to my side. My other hand is on the gun in our bag, just in case.

When the car pulls up, I bundle her into the backseat and slide in after her, keeping my eyes on the surrounding area the entire time. Even as we pull away, I’m scanning, ready for another car to try and block us in, or ram us, or any other bullshit they might try to pull.

“Where to?” the driver asks. He’s one of our men, armed to the teeth up there, and a hell of a driver if the need arises.

I direct him to a tiny hotel thirty minutes up the coast. One of my old friends from school owns it, and he won’t ask too many questions. I shoot him a text to let him know we’re coming, then send another to Anya just to check in, my pulse slowing when she responds immediately.

Anya: We’re staying at the pool. Big crowd. I’m safe. Do you know what happened?

Not yet.

Ella reaches for my hand. I curl my fingers around hers and squeeze. There’s so much to say, so much I need to explain, but I can’t even give her that yet. She seems to know, doesn’t bother asking, just leans her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes as the car takes us up the winding road to the hotel.

I shoot off another text, this one to Viktor.

Need clean up at the hotel. Four assailants. Room’s a mess. We’re on our way to Ivan’s.

His reply takes a few minutes, but he reads it straight away.

Viktor: On it. Call me when you get there. Anya?

Safe. At her hotel with friends. Send someone just in case?

Viktor: Sending three. She can yell at me later.

Anya will not be pleased about the extra security, no matter how discreet the men are, but it’s that or she flies home, which she’d like even less.

The hotel is white stucco, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean, all surrounded by palm trees. Crushed white seashells kick up around the tires when we pull in. I’ve got a text from the owner, Ivan, with a code to our room, so I don’t need to waste any time checking in.

“Wait here,” I caution Ella, stepping out with my gun because I’m not taking another chance, ever again. When I’m sure it’s clear, I open the door and let her out, hurrying her to the room.

Our room is one of only five, and the place is dead quiet. Once we’re in, I lock the door, then grab a chair and brace it beneath the handle because I’m paranoid now. I drop the bag onto the floor and slip my gun into my waistband. Ella’s eyes widen.

“Is that—?” She worries her lower lip, then rakes her hands through her hair. “Of course it is. Because everything today is absolutely insane.”

She looks like she’s about to pass out, face pale and eyes frantic.

“Come here,” I say, pulling her to me. I wrap her in a tight hug, and she sets her cheek against my chest. “We’re safe now. Okay? We’re safe.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t pull away and lets me hold her until the tension in both of our bodies eases just a little.

“I mean this in the nicest way because you just saved my life but you’re really gross. There’s just… so much blood.” She looks up at me, nose wrinkled. “I think you should shower.”

I laugh. The last thing on my mind is how clean I am, but if it’ll make her feel better, fine. “Only if you come with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

I cup her cheek and kiss her, tasting the salt of her tears and the sweet taste that’s all Ella.

“Fine,” she agrees when we break apart, “but just to shower.”

“Scout’s honor,” I say, setting my gun on the bathroom counter so it’s within reach.

She starts the water and strips while I check my phone. Viktor sent another message.

Viktor: Bratva men. Abashins, looks like. Still confirming. Sounds like you did a number on them. Ella doing okay?

What’s their problem? As okay as she can be. She has no idea what happened or why. She doesn’t know anything about the family. Fucking Luka.

I put my phone beside my gun and follow Ella into the shower. The water goes pink at our feet as blood rinses from my body. She steps into my open arms and sets her head back against my chest.

“Tell me what’s going on.” She doesn’t look up, only holds me tighter.

I can’t avoid it, but I’m fucking terrified. Telling her the truth about the kind of life I lead could send her running, and I feel like I only just got her. The second she opens up to me, this shit happens.

“It seems some people aren’t too happy about us expanding over here,” I start slowly, running my hands up and down her back like that can somehow soften the blow of what I’m about to tell her. Like that’ll keep her from hating me when she has every right to hate me. I’m the entire reason she’s in danger.

She shifts from one foot to the other. “I know there were other bidders on the property, but this? This seems like an over-the-top reaction to losing the bid.”

Ella is too clever. I can’t hide the whole truth from her even though I want to. With her hair slicked back by the water, her eyes look enormous, and they’re still red-rimmed from crying. Her innocence, her vulnerability, shatters me. She deserves honesty. Deserves the whole story so she can know what world she’s living in now, even if that means she might choose to walk away. I have to take that chance.

“It’s more than that.” I steal another kiss because it might be the last one I ever get from her perfect lips.

“What else?” She reaches up and runs her thumb over my stubbled jaw, big brown eyes imploring. “Tell me. Why are they so upset?

I blow out a breath. I’m really doing this.

“They’re part of the Russian mafia,” I tell her, watching for her reaction. Her eyes flare with surprise.

“How did you get mixed up with them?” Like I said, she’s clever. Only, she can’t even imagine that there’s more to it than some kind of mistake, like I fell into a bad deal with these guys. I’m about to break her world.

I swallow and look past her to the tiled mosaic on the wall. Brace myself for the heartbreak I’ll never recover from. “I was born into it. My family is Bratva too.”