The Trainer (military romantic suspense) (The Dregs Book 5)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Malik nudged me. Roughly. I jolted, pulling my gaze to his. “Answer the question,” he growled out.

  I blinked, turning to Pastor Smith. “What?”

  “Do you, Nishi Anand, take Malik–”

  A loud boom exploded behind us in the crowd. People screamed and began fleeing across the campus. Malik spun around, his eyes wide with fury and disbelief. He barged into crowd, bellowing orders to his men, a bull charging through the herd.

  I stared, wide-eyed, as my father’s men surged forward into the fray.

  An immediate battle ensued.

  Rapsters against Black Dragons.

  And then it turned into complete and utter chaos.

  Bullets whizzed past.

  Knives and throwing stars lodged into opponent’s flesh. Hand-to-hand combat broke out all around. It was a free-for-all.

  It was what my father had feared most by inviting the Rapsters here for the wedding. But Malik had insisted on holding the ceremony here.

  Had Malik fooled my father? If so, then why had he left me standing at the altar? Had he not really wanted me, but had just used the wedding as an excuse to get close enough to take out my father’s men?

  My father appeared at my side, roughly taking my arm and yanking me away from Pastor Smith. “Get back to your room, now!” He waved Ling and Katsu over. “Quickly! Lock her up before someone gets to her.”

  “Uh, Mr. Yamamoto,” Pastor Smith called.

  My father spun around to face Malik’s pastor.

  Pastor Smith waved a gun at my father. The friendliness was gone from his eyes. “Give me the girl and I won’t kill you.”

  I gasped. I didn’t know what would be scarier. Leaving with Malik’s pastor with the fake eye. Or staying with the Black Dragons. If I stayed, I would probably never get another chance at freedom. But if I left with Pastor Smith, I might someday be free again. I might someday be able to fool Malik and escape.

  Malik terrified me. If I left with his pastor, it was highly likely I would find myself in Malik’s bed later. Against my will. Impaled by his repulsive man stick.

  I am a shadow warrior. I am strong. I am brave.

  Wait a second. Why would Pastor Smith want me when Malik had left me standing at the altar? What was going on here?

  My father’s gaze darkened in fury. His hand tightened painfully around my arm. “Come with me, Nishi. Do as you are told.”

  No. I’m not going back to my room.

  Pastor Smith moved swiftly. Like a shadow warrior.

  He whacked my father in the head with his gun.

  My father released his hold on me, stumbling back into the row of folding chairs.

  Yes! In that moment, I liked Pastor Smith, even if he handed me over to Malik later. He’d just done something I would probably never be able to do. What very few people had or ever would be able to do.

  He’d taken my father by surprise. He’d hit him.

  Before I could move, Pastor Smith snatched me up. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in my ear. “I will not hurt you. I am here with Logan to help you.”

  “Stop them!” my father shouted, shoving the chairs aside, wobbling on his feet. “Don’t let them leave!”

  I met Pastor Smith’s gaze, and the kindness I’d witnessed earlier was back. He was here to help me. Logan had sent him. Was he a dreg, too? Where was Logan?

  “Set me down!” I ordered. “I can fight!”

  Pastor Smith hesitated, then set me on my feet.

  Ling and Katsu jumped Pastor Smith, and the three of them battled it out.

  Damn. Pastor Smith could fight. I was impressed. He obviously wasn’t a real pastor.

  I jumped in to help him, landing a painful blow to the back of Katsu’s neck.

  Payback for the torture he’d inflicted on me.

  Katsu jerked, then spun to face me, his gaze dark with fury. “You will pay for that, Nishi.”

  I waved him forward. I was still sore from his beating, my body covered in bruises. But I was a fighter. I knew how to ignore the pain. “Come on, old man.” I snickered. “Let’s see how well you fight when your opponent isn’t tied up.”

  He came at me with a rush. I turned to the side, spinning out of his reach, and twirled back to land another blow to his lower abdomen. He grunted, then let out a snarl.

  And we fought. Smack. Crack. Thwack.

  Then my father reappeared, having regained his equilibrium, and attacked Pastor Smith.

  While the Black Dragons had plenty of firepower, they only used it if necessary. Their skills were in fighting, not shooting people. A Dragon could snatch a gun from an opponent’s hand before the opponent could fire his weapon. That’s how good they were.

  Across the way from us, the battle continued on while the Rapsters and the rest of the Black Dragons fought violently. It was bloody. Gruesome.

  It was war.

  There would be no alliance tonight.

  Or probably ever.

  There was a sudden blur of movement off to my left. Then a large African American man appeared by my side. He was wearing a beanie over his head, the beanie pulled low over his face so that his eyes were barely visible. He jumped in to help Pastor Smith and me fight off my father and his men. He was pretty good, too. A natural fighter.

  And as I fought beside him, a sudden familiarity engulfed me. His movements were smooth, graceful. Elegant. And his scent—a faint hint of spicy cologne mixed with his own manly smell, washed over me.

  Logan.

  I jerked my gaze toward him, staring in wonder. He’d darkened his skin somehow, with some kind of makeup or something, and the beanie hid his blond hair.

  My heart raced with excitement and glee.

  Logan had come for me. He was here!

  We continued fighting for another several seconds, before three more tall African American men raced in with rifles gripped in their hands. My father leapt behind the now bullet-strewn altar, narrowing missing getting shot, but both Ling and Katsu went down beneath the bullets. Were they dead? Or just wounded?

  Then Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me away, heading into the crowd. Pastor Smith was right on our heels, and the three gunmen who had rescued us helped clear the way as we all raced for freedom.

  “Stop them!” my father shouted from behind us. “They’ve taken Nishi! Stop them!”

  And as we fled, it occurred to me what Logan and his friends had done. They’d come in disguised as Rapsters. They’d darkened their skin and covered their heads with beanies so they looked like gangsters. At night, in the dark, no one had been the wiser. These guys were brilliant.

  My father would think Malik had betrayed him. My father would never trust Malik again. There would definitely be no alliance between the gangs now.

  The six of us sprinted across the campus, dodging bullets, and fighting our way past anyone who tried to stop us. We ran and fought, ran and fought, until we finally reached the edge of campus. I was near the end of my endurance, my lungs gasping desperately for air, my limbs trembling from overuse and the strain of Katsu’s abuse just days before. I hurt everywhere. My emotional turmoil had also reached its peak, going from worry, to stark terror, to shock, then relief, and finally, joy that Logan had come for me.

  I had reached my limit. Both physically and emotionally.

  The three gunmen who had come and cleared the way for us hurried down the dark street. Pastor Smith followed. Logan tried to pull me after them, but I couldn’t move any farther.

  “Wait.” I sucked in air. “I can’t go anymore. I need to…catch my breath.”

  A dark shape suddenly appeared behind Logan.

  Malik.

  My heart stopped. I opened my mouth to scream a warning, but the warning died on my lips as Logan spun around. He had somehow either heard or sensed Malik’s presence.

  Malik scowled and raised a gun, pointing it at Logan’s head. “You stole my bride. I want her back.”

  Logan moved swiftly, snatching Malik’s gun with a quick tw
ist and yank, jerking it out of Malik’s hold. I stared, awed by his grace. His skill. He was amazing.

  Logan spun the gun around, pointing it at Malik’s head.

  He pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Empty.

  Malik darted behind the nearest car as Logan tossed the gun aside and raised his own weapon.

  Bang!

  Malik snickered from behind the car. “You missed! I will come for you, dreg. You will pay for what you’ve done here tonight. And for what you did to my brother.”

  Logan unload his weapon into the car, trying to hit Malik.

  Crack! Crack crack crack crack crack!

  Malik let out a hiss. I tensed, waiting. Was Malik dead?

  “Come out, you coward!” Logan shouted. “I can hear you breathing. I will gladly kill you with my bare hands. Your brother deserved to die, and so do you.”

  Malik let out a furious snarl from where he crouched behind the car. “Mark my words, dreg. Your time will come. You will pay for this.”

  Logan waited. Malik waited.

  Then gunfire erupted, bullets whizzing past us as Malik’s men surged forward.

  In a swift move, Logan bent and scooped me into his arms. His concerned gaze met mine. “It’s all right, little one. I’ve got you.”

  Then he ran after his friends, who had disappeared down the dark street.

  Bullets pinged after us, slamming into vehicles. Logan kept running, his stamina amazing. I had believed I was in good physical shape, but Logan was incredible. He’d been fighting nonstop for over fifteen minutes, yet he didn’t appear winded in the least, while I was about to pass out from exhaustion.

  Logan continued sprinting down the street for another five minutes, dodging the bullets until they finally ceased, carrying me effortlessly in his arms.

  Then he reached a parking lot where his truck waited. He set me in the passenger’s seat, then went around and slid behind wheel.

  His gaze watchful, he drove the truck out of the parking lot and headed down the road.

  His phone rang. He pressed a button on his dash, connecting the call. “Yeah.”

  “Meet us at the location we talked about. We’re just pulling in now.”

  “10-4.”

  What was that all about?

  Logan disconnected the call. His body language—tense, closed off—indicated he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He was probably still coming off the adrenaline high. I studied his profile, noting that the dark makeup had smeared in several places, revealing his lighter skin underneath. He reached for the beanie and yanked it off his head, tossing it into the center console. His thick, wavy blond locks sprang free. My fingers itched to thread through that soft-looking hair. He was so handsome.

  He didn’t look at me, instead staring straight ahead. I turned away with a sigh and stared out my window into the dark night.

  Logan had come for me. He and his four friends had slipped inside the campus, disguised as Rapsters members. They’d started a war between the Black Dragons and the Rapsters. They’d fooled everyone. They’d been brilliant. Amazing. My father thought Malik had betrayed him. He’d been played by the dregs. I would have laughed if I could find some humor in the situation. But this was serious.

  Malik had gotten away. He was lucky his gun had been empty, and that the car had been there for him to hide behind, or Logan would have killed him.

  Malik had figured out the truth. He’d threatened to take Logan down.

  He’d paid my father a lot of money for me. He thought he owned me now.

  Malik would come for Logan. He would come for me.

  Once the gangs all settled down and realized they’d been had, they would be furious. Malik and my father might possibly even reunite.

  I was afraid for Logan. Afraid for me. My father wouldn’t just let me go. He wouldn’t let Logan get away with ruining his plans. He would come after Logan with a vengeance.

  Logan had just made himself a huge target.

  A bullseye.

  All because of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Logan

  That had been a dangerous mission back there, yet we’d pulled it off. We’d fooled both gangs and managed to free Nishi. And none of us had gotten hurt. Zero injuries was always a plus during a mission. Too bad Malik had gotten away. I would have loved to have killed that bastard.

  Nishi and I were both silent as I drove toward the old warehouse where I’d agreed to meet with the other dregs.

  Please don’t be offended by what we’re about to do, little one.

  I glanced at Nishi then, noting the worry scrunching her brow. I reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  She swallowed hard. “Thank you. You risked your life for me back there.”

  I shrugged. “I’m a dreg. It’s what I do.”

  She contemplated me for a long moment. “According to the rumors, the dregs are bad, dangerous men. That’s a lie, isn’t it? You’re not bad. You’re heroes.”

  I squirmed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Her gaze turned earnest. “I swear I didn’t know you were a dreg. Not until my father caught me and made me look at your file.” She hesitated, her gaze filling with sadness. “I read that they did horrible things to you as a boy. Despicable things. It hurts me to think of you going through that.” Her bottom lip trembled. She pulled it between her teeth and bit down, obviously to keep from crying. She drew in a ragged breath. “I want to kill those people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  Tenderness filled my chest. She was a sweetheart. So brave. And I believed her.

  I cleared my throat as discomfort settled in. If Nishi had seen my file from The Company, then she knew more about me than anyone except The Company and the other dregs. And now, apparently, the Black Dragons. It was possible the other gangs had our files, too. It was getting more and more dangerous for us out there. And I had just made it worse by crashing the wedding and stealing Nishi away.

  Nishi now knew things about me that I wanted to forget. Was she disgusted by those things? Did she view me differently knowing the horrible things I’d been forced to endure, and the despicable things I’d been forced to do?

  “What is your father doing with my file?”

  She looked me in the eye. “He said a military man was paying him to track down and kill all of the dregs. But tonight, what you did back there…my father will be so furious that he will come after you with a vengeance now. You will be his number one target.”

  I shrugged and turned back to the road. I would deal with Katashi Yamamoto later.

  “Malik said something about making you pay for his brother,” Nishi hinted softly. “What was he talking about?”

  I hesitated, then admitted, “We killed Gunner a few months ago after he murdered one of my dreg brothers.”

  “Oh.” She turned away, a thoughtful look on her face. “Good. That’s one less evil gangster.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  As soon as we reached the abandoned warehouse across town, Noah would check Nishi for any tracking devices. Then, once we got back to the maze, Luke would interrogate her to ensure she wasn’t setting us up. While I had argued adamantly against that at first, the other dregs had all insisted that it was a requirement if they were going to help me save her, so I’d finally consented. Luke had promised not to be too hard on her. Luke was the Enforcer. Interrogation and mind control were his specialties. He had the ability to delve inside a person’s mind to determine whether or not they were telling the truth. While I didn’t fancy the idea of him seeing inside Nishi’s mind, I wouldn’t be able to stop him if he did. He generally reserved that skill for the more stubborn people who refused to admit the truth. I didn’t think Nishi would put up a fight. She’d been nothing but honest with me so far.

  Or at least, I think she had.

  And I could be the biggest fool on the planet.

&nb
sp; She dropped back against her seat then, her exhaustion plain.

  “You fought well back there,” I praised. “You’re a good fighter.”

  She turned her head and smiled at me. “So are you. You’re very talented.” She flinched suddenly, gingerly lifting her arm and laying it in her lap.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “A shadow warrior endures the pain without complaint,” she whispered, but she spoke in monotone, as if that sentence had been grilled into her head at any early age, and she’d been forced to repeat it, again and again, until it became true.

  My heart pinched. Nishi was a strong woman. But she’d obviously been forced to do things against her will much like I had. What had her father done to her? What kind of man forced his only daughter to marry a monster like Malik?

  As I looked deeply into her eyes, her guard slowly slipped away, revealing the weariness and the pain she had been trying to hide. Then she closed her eyes and turned away.

  Shit. She was definitely hurting. I wish Nate were here. He could heal most wounds with his dreg talent. I was just a physical therapist. I knew basic first aid and emergency wound care, but that was the extent of my medical abilities.

  “Where are you hurt?” I asked. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

  She turned back to me. “No hospital. It’s just bruises. Katsu tortured me a few days ago, trying to get me to tell him where you lived. When I had to fight back there, many of my bruises got banged, so I’m just really sore is all.”

  Bastard. Whoever Katsu was, I wanted to kill him.

  And I was the gentle guy, the one who didn’t like the killing. The one who didn’t have violent thoughts about harming others.

  That’s how much Nishi got to me. I would kill for her.

  I would die for her.

  And I hardly knew her.

  Was I a complete and utter fool?

  Possibly.

  But I vowed to help this girl. And nothing would stop me.

  I had no doubt Yamamoto would come for his daughter. I had no doubt he could come for me.

  But when he showed up, I would be ready.

  He’d better be prepared for a war.

  Because now that I had found Nishi, I wasn’t giving her up.