by Lietha Wards
It was the dark grey limousine. Her father had several cars, but this was the one she usually had. The driver was not one of his henchmen, but just a driver. Jose was his name. He was trustworthy and quiet and usually drove her in the past. He’d been with the family for about fifteen years. She was wondering if Ryan had arranged it to have him instead of Ivan or someone else. She was grateful just the same. She said hello as he opened the door, and she got in. Ryan slid beside her and she saw him adjust his suit as he settled in the plush leather. Jose shut the door. She reached over and touched Ryan’s side arm under his jacket. Her eyes met his. “You have a gun.” It wasn’t a question.
“I have two, one either side, and a spare strapped to the inside right of my calf.”
“I want to learn how to shoot one.”
There was no hesitation in his response. “All right.”
That was easy. “Can you teach me?”
“Yes. I can.”
She felt great relief at those words. She had a feeling that Ryan was very particular, and good, at something like that. She wanted to learn how to shoot correctly and not take lessons from a gangster like the ones her father employs.
“I can also teach you some self-defense Katya. Trust me. It’s handier than a gun.”
“I do trust you.” Those words slipped out unexpectedly, surprising herself. He seemed pleased with her statement. It wasn’t obvious in his expression, but the corner of his nicely sculpted mouth tilted up letting her know he was suppressing a smile. “I would like that too.”
The rest of the ride to Miami University was in silence. He seemed quite comfortable with it. She felt a little awkward alone with him but it was overshadowed by nervousness of being out in the open again with a crowd.
The car pulled into the parking lot and Ryan got out first, walking around to open the door for her. He glanced around before he held out his hand and she took it that time. He released her and shut the door.
She scanned the people on campus and felt that familiar nervousness creep in. This was another really big step for her. She’d never dealt with agoraphobia before, but she was determined not to let it rule her.
“Ready?”
His voice was just the reassurance she needed. It was a reminder that he’d be with her. She nodded and started walking toward the admissions building.
He waited patiently while she paid for her classes. The place was busy with potential students, but his attention was always on her. There were a lot of young women there who gave him welcoming glances, but he acted as if he hadn’t noticed. Katya was nervous and he certainly didn’t need her having another hallucination in front of everyone to draw attention to herself. Even when his phone buzzed in his pocket he didn’t remove his eyes off of her as he pulled it out. Only to flick a glance at the message from his superior, Ned.
He quickly messaged him back that he’d contact him later and tucked the phone back in his pocket just as Katya finished up. She was slipping her wallet back into her purse while turning toward him. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
“No problem.”
“Would you mind if we just went for a late breakfast?”
That’s right, they didn’t eat. A mistake on his part. He should have made sure she ate to keep up her strength. Come to think of it he was hungry. “I could always eat.”
She smiled at him.
He took her upper arm and led her back out to the car. They found a quaint bistro not too far from the university. She insisted on sitting on the patio, outside, and he wasn’t too keen on it, but he agreed.
The waiter took their orders and disappeared.
“Don’t like our Miami sun?” she smiled while sipping a glass of orange juice. He didn’t look too pleased about their seating arrangements and she did notice his hesitation after the waiter suggested it, but she really wanted the fresh air. Well, he said he was from Chicago, so maybe the heat did bother him.
“I spent five years in Iraq.” It was hot where they sat, but there was a breeze, and he was comfortable. He’d been in hotter places and wore more gear.
Good God, did he? Who stays five years in a war torn hellhole? She tilted her head. “You really continue to surprise me. What is it then, if not the heat?”
Now that was a pose he could really admire. It was as if, for a moment, she was untouched by the ugliness of what had happened to her. She had this slight look of amusement as if he’d told a joke, but hadn’t yet revealed the punchline. It was curious, but angelic. A strand of ebony hair escaped her chignon and trailed across her lovely face with the slight breeze and he resisted the urge to reach over and tuck it behind her ear. Her dark hair was a stunning contrast to her deep sea green eyes—and fucking distracting. He cursed inwardly and looked away.
“Mr. Casey?”
He met her eyes again. Now she just looked annoyed. All that sexy innocent demure was abolished, and he was thankful. Now he could get back to being who he was. As for the reason he didn’t want to be out on the patio, they’d been followed since they left her father’s place, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. A black sedan was keeping its distance, and it was now parked down the street. He’ll have to check with Ned to see if someone was tailing them from his department, but he somehow doubted had anything to do with his organization or something like it.
It suddenly occurred to her that he was different—alert. She stilled and slowly set down her glass but still gripped it tightly. “If not the sun, it’s something else, then.” She was beginning to feel that familiar prickling of fear.
“We’ve been followed.” So much for not telling her, but it looked as though she was about to faint.
Her hand started to shake sloshing the juice.
He reached over and steadied it with one of his own. “They aren’t going to do anything,” he reassured softly.
“How do you know?”
“Because they would have done it already. They had opportunities.” This was about him. He was new, and if they were as informed as much as he thought they were about Peter’s organization, the new guy would raise eyebrows. They were being cautious and he was sure now that Katya was still in danger.
She narrowed her eyes in anger. “Why didn’t you say something to me sooner?”
He released her and sat back in his chair. Anger was a good compromise from fear. “You didn’t need to know.”
“Mr. Casey, how can I trust you if you don’t tell me anything?”
“You’ll just have to. You don’t need to know everything, Katya, or you’ll never relax. A moment ago, you looked as if you were going to pass out.”
Well, maybe he was right about that, but still she couldn’t help feel irritated. She wasn’t a wilting flower. “Fine. That’s just fine. I’ll just let you be the macho bodyguard and me the damsel in distress, but don’t expect me to jump when you want.”
He actually smiled. Oh, you’ll jump when I want all right because I won’t give you a choice.
There was that challenging smile again. The same one he gave her when he was tying her sneaker before they went jogging. It made her breath still in her chest. This man was way too good looking. “Why didn’t you tell me, really?”
“I had to assess if they were a threat at the moment or not. They aren’t. I didn’t need you going into another panic attack.”
He had a point. “That makes sense. I don’t like it, but it makes sense.”
“My first concern is your safety. You don’t have to like anything I do.”
He’d meant that. She met his confident gaze just as the waiter brought their food. “I don’t know if I even like you,” she added with irritation. To her surprise he smiled again not even bothered by her statement.
She turned her attention to her food. Arguing with him was a lost cause and she was starving. She’d hardly eaten anything the night before, and despite his confession about being followed, she was still hungry. She knew why. She really did feel safe with him near her. She didn’t like feeling
like she needed anyone, but she already knew, she needed him.
Surprisingly, she cleaned her plate. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he did either. He had a healthy appetite, but she should have expected it with his physique. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your run this morning.”
It was refreshing for him that she didn’t hold onto her anger too long. Another trait of hers he liked. With her father, of course, it was a different story. “I did.”
Her brows arched. “You did? When?”
“I went at five thirty. You were still sleeping when I got back.”
Didn’t this man sleep? “Aren’t you tired? I mean, did I keep you up?”
He sat back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at her. “No.”
She flushed a little and pretended to look at something past him. Apparently he got by on very little sleep and found it amusing that she jumped from ridiculing him to concern.
The waiter brought the check and he paid for it even when she argued. It was her idea, but he smirked and said he was pretty sure he could afford twenty five bucks.
Once back inside the car, she felt the need to ask. “Is being a mercenary lucrative?” He looked slightly chagrined. “What?”
“We’ve discussed this. I’m not really a mercenary.”
“You are a gun for hire, though.”
He shook his head. “Not quite. I’m specially trained and I don’t run around assassinating people because someone pays me to.”
“I guess I don’t really know the difference.”
“I pick and choose who I work for. Money has nothing to do with it. There are specific reasons why I do what I do. I do not harm people unless I’m defending myself, or protecting others.”
“You’ve killed people though. How many?”
Ryan stared down at her. He shouldn’t have said that. She was still so innocent in a lot of ways despite what she’d been through and for some reason that worked against him. This wasn’t the first time he’d said too much. “I won’t share that part of my life with you Katya.”
Door closed. She bit her lip and stared at him. Yes, he had killed people. Again, it was that look in his eyes, the same one her father had.
He could see she was debating his soul. He certainly didn’t want her scared of him. “I’m not a murderer. Just remember that.”
“That’s your way of reasoning it, I suppose.”
“It’s the truth.” Yes, he’d killed people. Maybe too many, but it was always for the sake of others.
She sighed deeply and turned away from him. She honestly was no better. She wanted those men that hurt her and her sister dead and rotting in the ground. She told him that. He never said anything.
She was full of hatred and anger right now and wanted revenge. So did he. He wanted it so much he could taste the bile rise in his throat.
***
That night after Katya retired; Ryan messaged his boss and gave him an update. He replied. The sedan wasn’t theirs. He should have known. Also, they haven’t found any more on that end about Georgy’s death. Well, neither did he. He was impatient, which was something no one could accuse him of before, but this was different. It was personal. He stood up and walked to the adjoining door. Katya was sound asleep, on her side again, facing him this time. She looked like sleeping beauty and she certainly was beautiful. He eased the door closed to a crack and turned back to his bed stripping off his shirt and tossing it on the chair he occupied moments ago. He was heading into the bathroom to wash up for the night when there was a soft knock on his door. It was Ivan.
The man’s eyes went down the front of him. “Do you ever wear a fucking shirt?”
“What do you want Ivan?” He suppressed a grin. What did this man expect? It was one in the morning.
“Boss needs to see you again. There’s another parcel.”
Ryan nodded and grabbed his shirt off the chair, buttoning it up as he followed Ivan.
This time it was a ring finger and with it, a ring.
Peter had removed the jewelry and was spinning it on the tip of his little finger. “This was her mother’s. Bastards! What does it say?”
Ryan scanned the note that Peter handed him, then looked at Peter. They were toying with the old Russian and it was taking it’s toll. It looked as though he was wearing. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there before. He returned his attention to the piece of paper in his hand. Then he clenched his jaw. The note actually commented on how pretty Katya looked today. That she was looking almost as tasty as her sister.
“Well?”
He met Peter’s eyes and told him the truth.
Ryan could hear Ivan shift behind him. No, he didn’t like it either.
“You watch her Casey, or I’ll cut your fucking balls off. Do you understand?”
“I will.”
“I can’t lose her too. How would that look if I can’t protect my family?” He turned and waved at the package on his desk. “Get this fucking thing out of here!”
One of the other men moved quickly removing the package from Peter’s sight leaving the room.
Peter ran his hand down his face. “Ivan. Double security.”
“Yes Mr. Nickolov.”
“I’m going to find those sons of bitches and rip them to pieces, bit by bit like they did my Anna, but I’m going to do it while they’re alive, so they can suffer a far worse fate. The last thing they’ll see is satisfaction on my face while I’m stuffing their balls in their mouths!” He turned back to Ryan who still held the note. “Is there anything in there that would lead to who they are?”
“No. It’s typed, and I honestly doubt they left fingerprints, but I can have it checked.”
“Do that. The package too.”
“As you wish.” Ryan turned to leave, until Peter spoke again, making him pause.
“You watch my baby girl Casey, or I’ll do to you what I’m going to do to them.”
Ryan didn’t answer, but nodded without turning around and left the room. He heard something crash against the far wall as the doors were shut behind him. He’d had threats before. Peter’s didn’t bother him, but now he knew who was watching them that day. As for Peter, it wasn’t about love, it was about pride, and someone getting the better of him. That man was not capable of affection of any kind.
Ivan was in the entrance when he came down the hall. “I need a car, and the package that was taken out of that room.”
Surprisingly the man didn’t question him. He obviously knew he had orders from his boss, although his mouth curled into a bit of a snarl. Then he turned and nodded to another man standing by the front door. The man immediately left.
“Wait here. He’ll be back. Don’t touch her again.” Ivan warned before he walked away.
Ryan smirked at his back.
It was after three o’clock in the morning when he returned. He would have the results in a few days over the items, and Ivan was waiting for him when he got back. He told him the news knowing that’s why the man was still awake. He never said another word to him, but listened, nodded curtly, and then walked away.
He then went to his room and checked on Katya. She was still sleeping. He was concerned that she’d had another night terror and sought him out when he was gone. Why that bothered him, he didn’t know. Maybe he just didn’t want to have her deal with that alone. Well, that’s what he told himself, because he couldn’t deal with liking the feel of her against him.
He removed his shirt and pants, pulled on his pajama bottoms, washed up, and got into bed stacking his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. The garden lights from below reflected off it to illuminate his room in a soft glow. It was actually pleasant.
The adjoining door creaked and his hand instinctively slipped under his pillow, to grip his handgun. It was Katya. She’d put on a robe and was standing in the doorway.
She never said anything but approached the bed, and then just stood there staring at him.
This wasn’t sexual. H
e could see the fear in her eyes, and it looked like she was crying. Against his better judgment, he moved aside and she moved down on the bed beside him, curling up against him, placing her head on his chest. She never said a word this time, and soon he could hear the soft rhythm of sleep from her. Well, at least one of them would get sleep. His hand moved along her back and soothed her, then rested on her lower spine. This habit was becoming quite trying on him. Yet, he felt the need to protect her from this pain. Pain that he relived every time he thought of Georgy. This wasn’t her fault. It was her father’s, and she was paying for it.
Katya woke up to the sun shining through the sheers. The patio doors to the balcony were open and a slight breeze drifted over her. She sat up, and remembered where she was. She was also alone. Although he did pull the covers over her at some point in the night because when she joined him, she was on top of them, curled up to his warm body.
One thing was certain, she slept like a rock. He didn’t know it, but he was really good therapy.
Now, where was he?
She flipped back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her robe was strewn over the chair next to one of his shirts. He’d somehow managed to remove that off of her too. Well, he probably wasn’t short of experience in getting a woman’s clothes off.
She walked over and hovered her hand over it, paused, looked around, then reached for his shirt instead. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled slowly and deeply. There was that faint scent of cologne again and with it, his distinctive masculine scent. He smelled quite nice—it was attractive. She rolled the material between her fingers. It was an expensive material too. He had good taste—in all things. Sighing she picked up her robe and went through the adjoining door to her room to have a shower.
She was in the bathroom, dressed and pulling her hair into a ponytail when she heard him walk in her room unannounced.
“Katya?”
Her heart did a slight gallop at the deep timbre of Ryan’s voice. She sighed and looked at her reflection in disgust and silently chastised herself. It would do her no good to fall for a man like him. “Bathroom.”
