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

by Leslie Georgeson

  My partial deafness was definitely a handicap in this type of situation, just as Noah’s partial blindness was a handicap for him. We made up for it by sharing our senses. I became his blind eye, and he became my deaf ear. Nishi was an added benefit, for she had all her senses, though hers weren’t as acute as ours. She kept a lookout from below, while Noah and I watched and listened from the top as we crept up the stairs, our senses attuned to the slightest movement, the faintest sound.

  We reached the sixth floor in time to witness Ryan hauling a limp body out of the way and leaning it back against the wall. He waved us forward. “Luke’s heading up to the next floor.”

  Noah and I both nodded. Nishi remained silent, watchful. Waiting. She was doing a great job so far. I was impressed.

  A single wandering vagrant wouldn’t be as suspicious as two or more wandering vagrants, so at this point, where we were only two floors away from Malik’s home, we had to be extra careful. We waited for several moments for Luke to contact us.

  “Eight armed guards on the seventh floor,” Luke said into the mic. “I’m going to need some help.”

  “I’m on it,” Ryan responded. He removed a bottle of alcohol from his trench coat and popped off the cap, dumping some onto his coat and sloshing it over his clothes. Then he held the bottle of alcohol in his prosthetic hand and moved his other hand so that it was close to his weapon at his belt. He winked at Nishi and headed up the stairs like a drunk, wobbling from side to side and hanging onto the railing as he climbed. Nishi’s pretty brown gaze met mine, her lips twitching with amusement.

  We all waited a few more moments. “Hey, man!” Ryan’s voice floated down the stairwell to where we huddled. “I just need a place to sleep. Can’t you help a wounded warrior? Come on, I only have one arm! Don’t be like that!” There was a thud, then a grunt.

  Noah nodded at me, and we raced silently up the stairs. As we neared the seventh floor the sounds of hand-to-hand combat reached our ears. Grunts. Thuds. Groans. Smacks. A crunch of a fist striking bone. We peered around the corner and spied both Ryan and Luke battling back the eight thugs. Four of them were already down. Four left.

  We rushed to assist, and had the remaining four thugs down in only a matter of moments. Nishi took out one guy all on her own, proving her worth. I smiled at her, pride swelling inside me.

  We dragged the bodies out of the way and prepared for the hardest part. The eighth floor. There was likely to be more guards up there. Could we pull this off? With only four dregs, and Nishi, the odds were stacked against us. But we had to be positive. We had to find Nishi’s mother and get her out of here.

  I was normally more confident when I went on a mission, but having Nishi here affected me, made me more fearful than I normally would have been. It was hard to go into “beast mode” when I had Nishi to look after as well as my dreg brothers and myself. It was difficult to shut myself off emotionally when Nishi made me feel things more powerfully than I had in years. It was like she’d reawakened my soul, and now those feelings kept bursting free, spilling out, overflowing like lava from an active volcano.

  Luke crept up the stairs for the eighth floor with Ryan at his heels. Noah and I followed, sharing our senses once again, while Nishi took up the rear. Luke paused, hiding around the corner, watching while Ryan stumbled forward and did his drunk, wounded-warrior act again. As soon as Ryan stepped out onto the eighth floor, two thugs intercepted him.

  “Get the fuck out of here, man. This is Malik’s territory. He doesn’t like strangers, especially white boys.”

  “But I just want a place to sleep,” Ryan protested. “Come on, man. I only got one arm. Have a little sympathy for a wounded warrior. There’s no more room to sleep down below.”

  “Then go find another building, asshole.” They shoved Ryan back. Hard. He stumbled and tripped backward, falling down the stairs toward us. I wasn’t sure if he really fell, or if he did it on purpose. We flattened ourselves against the wall, praying the thugs wouldn’t see us. Fortunately, they didn’t. Assuming they were done with Ryan, they turned and walked away.

  Ryan winked at Nishi as he rose to his feet. “They didn’t even see me tossing that grenade.”

  Nishi’s eyes went wide. She mouthed, “Grenade?”

  “Get down!” Luke ordered, and we all dropped.

  A loud explosion rocked the eighth floor, debris flying out into the stairwell. Then we were all on our feet and rushing forward before the dust settled, and while Malik’s thugs were still caught off guard.

  Luke and Ryan took the lead, with Noah, Nishi and me right behind them. There was no hiding our presence now. Malik knew we were here.

  We fought our way to Malik’s door, using any and every method possible. Guns. Hand-to-hand combat. Grenades. Ryan and Luke each tossed another grenade, and we all ducked down as more explosions rocked the floor. By the time Noah and I reached the doorway to Malik’s lair, Luke and Ryan had already fought their way inside. Walls crumbled around us, dust floating through the air, making vision difficult. Bodies lay scattered about. The injured moaned where they lay, some trapped beneath the crumbled walls. I glanced back at Nishi to make sure she was okay.

  Only to discover she was no longer behind me. Where moments before she’d been right there behind me, now, she was gone.

  My heart stuttered. Where the hell was she?

  Then a soft cry reached my ears. I jerked my head toward the sound. A bullet slammed into the wall next to me, just inches from my face. I dropped, crouching low, my gaze scanning the corridor for the source of the sound. The explosions made my ear ring, and it was difficult to pinpoint the direction of the sound. There was too much noise, too much sound bouncing around in my one ear. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on Nishi in an attempt to pinpoint her location. I couldn’t see her through all the dust, but I sensed she was somewhere close by.

  Where are you, little one?

  Noah squeezed my arm, then motioned down the hallway.

  I turned my head.

  And there she was.

  She was fighting two of Malik’s thugs, her tiny body flying around them like a whirlwind, knocking them back with quick thrusts and painful blows. Smack. Crack. Thwack. My chest tightened as relief swept through me. She was fine. My brave little Nishi.

  “Go find Nishi’s mother,” I urged Noah. “I’ll help Nishi.” Noah went inside the apartment, while I slipped down the hallway toward Nishi, ready to assist her.

  A faint sound registered my overstimulated hearing just before someone tackled me from behind. Someone big and powerful. Bigger than me. I hit the floor with a thud, my attacker’s heavy weight landing on top of me.

  I lost my weapon in the struggle, the gun flying out of reach. Swinging my arm back, I elbowed my attacker roughly in the ribs. He gasped, but he didn’t roll away.

  Nishi cried out just as a thick arm wrapped around my neck and my attacker got me in a chokehold, yanking my head back.

  “Got you now, motherfucker,” a voice hissed in my ear. “Thanks for bringing my bride back.”

  Malik.

  His arm tightened around my throat, cutting off my air. I gasped, sputtered, choked. The bastard was strong. I flailed, trying to fight him off, trying to land a painful blow somewhere, but he had me in such a tight hold that I was running out of oxygen fast. I reached back blindly, jabbing my fingers into his ribs, his abdomen, but it wasn’t enough to dislodge him. I couldn’t inflict enough damage to cause him to release me.

  His arm merely tightened harder, squeezing off my air. I gurgled.

  Nishi.

  Then Ryan’s voice came through my mic. “Found Nishi’s mother. She’s alive. We’re getting her out.”

  My vision blurred. I flailed again, reaching for something—anything—to fight him off with. I tried to suck in air, but there was none to grasp. His arm was too tight around my throat, leaving no room for oxygen.

  I am a dreg. I will not die tonight. I will not fail Nishi.

 
I finally managed to grasp Malik’s ear in my hand and twisted it as hard as I could. Malik grunted, his hold loosening. Just enough for me to drag in a much-needed breath.

  A sudden blur caught my eye. I blinked as Nishi twirled through the air and landed beside me. I blinked again. Was I imagining things? With a spin and thrust, Nishi smacked Malik right in the face, a quick blow to his ugly bulbous nose. He stumbled back, letting out a growl of rage.

  I gulped in more air, regenerating my body with oxygen.

  Blood spurted out of Malik’s nose, dripping down his face. He sneered at Nishi, lifting a hand to wipe at the blood. “You like it rough? That’s just fine with me. Rough is what you’re going to get.” Her distraction had worked. Malik was now focused on her.

  He stalked toward her while she darted aside, bouncing out of the way, again and again. She was fast, but she couldn’t fight off Malik on her own. I bolted to my feet. Nishi needed me now.

  I gave a rough shake of my head, the ringing in my ear slowly fading as I focused on the monster who was after my girl. Malik was going down. Tonight.

  A sudden chorus of gunshots rang out. Pain slammed into my arm, then my thigh. I stumbled back, gritting my teeth at the pain. Dammit.

  Malik had Nishi by the arm now and was hauling her toward him. She squirmed and fought, trying to break free.

  Bastard. I had to save her. I couldn’t let Malik hurt her. I couldn’t fail Nishi.

  I launched myself through the air, slamming into Malik’s legs. He stumbled, crashing into the half-crumbled wall. Nishi broke free and bounced aside.

  I crawled toward Malik, a bloodlust swirling through my veins. He was going to die.

  Malik scrambled back, swiftly raising a gun. I swung out with one hand, knocking the gun aside. At the same time, I yanked my knife free from the sheath at my ankle with my other hand, thrusting it toward him, aiming for his throat in a fatal blow.

  A sharp electrical current jolted through me from behind, piecing into my thigh.

  All my muscles seized.

  I collapsed, my head spinning, the knife dropping from my hand.

  Fuck. I hated Tasers. No matter that we were “super soldiers”, not even dregs were immune from electrical currents. When a creature’s central nervous system is high-jacked by electricity, its muscles freeze, and it is rendered completely helpless, its brain powerless.

  Malik’s ugly face appeared in front of me.

  He snickered. “Die, dreg!”

  He lifted his meaty fist and slammed it into my face.

  Crunch!

  Pain careened through my skull. My head spun harder. Faster.

  Son-of-a-bitch!

  Nishi screamed, “No! Don’t hurt him! Take me. Let him go!”

  Another blow.

  Crack!

  Blood splattered everywhere, my shattered nose and broken lip both bleeding from the violent hit. Dizziness continued to spin in my head. I blinked rapidly, trying valiantly to remain conscious. Nishi.

  “No!” Nishi screamed. “No!”

  I tried to move, tried to fight back, but another jolt of electricity shot through me, rendering me immobile. Helpless. Bastard.

  Malik cackled.

  Nishi entered my line of vision then. She was squirming and fighting two thugs who held her with her arms behind her back.

  She’d been captured. Malik had her now.

  I had failed her.

  Malik sneered down at me, lifting his fist for another blow.

  Crunch!

  And my world turned black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Nishi

  Logan. They’d hurt Logan. My sweet, handsome, gentle dreg. My warrior. My hero. Who’d risked his life—maybe given his life—for me.

  Malik’s thugs had stripped me of my weapons and dragged me away while Logan lay bloody and unconscious in the hallway. I didn’t know if he was alive. I didn’t know where the other dregs were. The last thing I’d heard was Ryan saying they’d found my mother and were getting her out. It was at that point that Malik’s men had attacked me and I’d lost my communication device. I didn’t know if they’d actually gotten my mother out and she was safe now, or if they’d failed. I didn’t know anything except I was about to learn what it meant to be Malik’s wife.

  I swallowed hard, fear clenching at my gut. I would fight him every step of the way.

  Malik’s men had taken me to the “honeymoon suite” on the top floor of an abandoned hotel. I had learned on the journey here that this was where Malik resided. The “honeymoon suite” was actually Malik’s home. The apartment building we’d invaded earlier was just where the Rapsters stashed their drugs. My father had apparently instructed Malik to keep my mother hidden there with the drugs, thinking no one would find her. But the dregs had bested them in that regard, for they’d known right where to go to find my mother. I only prayed they’d gotten her out of there.

  Oh Mama, please be safe.

  Malik’s men had ordered me to take a bath and get ready for my “groom”. I’d fought the entire way as they’d dragged me into the room, but there was no escaping these monsters. There were too many of them. They locked me in the room and stood guard out in the hallway. I could hear them now, their lewd comments about Malik’s upcoming wedding night reaching me through the door. Assholes. I wasn’t his bride. I’d never said “I do”. Malik wasn’t touching me. I would kill him first. I was Logan’s. Only Logan’s. No one was going to touch me but Logan.

  A sob worked its way lose.

  My chest squeezed.

  Oh, Logan. Please be okay.

  My thoughts turned to my mother again. Was she okay? Please be okay, Mama. I had to believe that she was. I had to believe that the dregs had gotten her out of there. And I had to escape so that I could see her again. That was my main goal now. Getting free.

  I pushed thoughts of my mother aside.

  I pushed my worries about Logan away.

  I would need complete concentration to fool Malik. To free myself.

  I had to plan my escape.

  I was not letting Malik take what didn’t belong to him.

  I glanced around the hotel suite, searching for items to use as weapons. I whipped through the closet where Malik hung his clothes, digging through pockets, tossing everything aside. The hangers were wooden and attached to the bar with locking mechanisms, making it impossible to remove them. In a vengeful fit, I yanked everything off the hangers and left the clothes lying all over the floor. Take that, asshole. Then I pawed through the dresser drawers, flinging clothes aside, finding nothing of use. I searched the bathroom cabinet, throwing toiletries everywhere. Nothing. Not even a razor. Malik must have put everything I could use as a weapon out of my reach. I shoved the mattress aside, praying he hid a gun there. Nothing. I even tried to claw through the fabric to try to get to the box springs in the hope that I could somehow use a spring as a weapon, but my short-clipped nails were useless, unable to cut through the fabric covering the box springs. In frustration, I upended the table and chairs, hoping for a weapon taped to the underside. Nothing.

  Nothing to use as a weapon anywhere.

  I’d already checked the single window, hoping I could somehow escape through it. But this high up—for guest safety, I imagined—the windows were the kind that didn’t open. I had leaned against the glass, studying the outside walls on either side of this room, noting the structure of the building offered no hand or footholds in which to scale down the building. So even if I managed to break the glass, even if I tied all of Malik’s clothes together to use as a rope to climb down, I would fail. I was too high up. Escape through the window would be impossible.

  So I wasn’t going anywhere. And I had no weapon.

  My heart sank. My chest heaved. Tears burned my eyes.

  It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t letting Malik rape me. But how could I fight him off? He was huge. Bigger even than Logan. But while Logan was sweet and gentle, Malik was coarse and mean. I had no doubt he would hurt me.


  Then my gaze caught a faint silver glimmer in the carpet just outside of the bathroom. I dived forward, kneeling on the carpet, searching for the glimmering object.

  It was a safety pin, stuck in the carpet fibers. About an inch long. Tiny.

  But a weapon nonetheless. If I could stick Malik in a vulnerable place with it, I could temporarily disable him. And maybe, just maybe, I might get a chance to escape.

  I gently worked the safety pin loose from the carpet and palmed it in my hand. I bolted to my feet, thinking about the best place to stick him with it.

  An eye? An ear? His neck? His groin?

  A weapon this small wouldn’t inflict much damage. But I would use the weapon however necessary. If all I managed to do was scratch him with it, then at least it was a scratch, which was better than nothing.

  The door burst open at that moment and Malik strode in with a leer. I eyed him from where I stood near the bathroom doorway. He was dressed in black cargo pants and a tight black tank top, his huge muscles bulging with his movements. Crude tattoos crawled up his arms, his neck, and disappeared beneath his shirt, indicating his torso was likely painted with ink as well. Easily six-foot-five or six, he towered over me like a wide, imposing skyscraper as he paused before me, his black eyes widening at the destruction I’d made of his home. His gaze hardened. “You will clean up the mess you made, as soon as our honeymoon is over. You will put everything back in its place.”

  I bravely faced the beast, clutching the safety pin in my hand. Fuck that. I wasn’t giving him a honeymoon. And I sure as hell wasn’t cleaning up the mess I’d made.

  I lifted my chin, meeting his hard stare.

  Then he chuckled softly. “You’re a defiant one. I’m going to enjoy taming you. It’s time to give me the honeymoon you owe me, little Nishi. I’m going to pop your cherry and fuck you all night long. You’ve got thirty minutes to get ready.” He marched over to the bed and yanked the mattress back in place. “I want you clean and naked and lying on this bed when I come back.”