Retribution

by Natasha Knight

  “Step back,” one commanded, gun aimed, his eyes on the still man beneath me.

  “Who sent you?” I asked again, shaking the now unconscious man.

  Two sets of hands gripped my arms, and they dragged me off him, fighting, kicking him as I was pulled away. The door opened again, two more men entering. Then a third.

  I glared at the third. He scanned the bloodied mess of the shooter, shoved at his leg with the toe of his boot then came to me, taking my face in his hands. I tried to shrug off the men, wanting to pull free, to beat the son of a bitch who’d used me. Who’d betrayed me.

  “It’s over,” Clay said, nonplussed, his tone so calm, so collected.

  “Did you fucking do this? Are you responsible for this?”

  Clay shook his head, tapping the palm of his hand on my face with a laugh before stepping back. “I think it was a family matter.” He turned to the men holding me. “Let him go.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Eduardo Vega was found dead in his bed this morning, a bullet in his head.”

  “What?”

  “Like I said, family matter. One brother took out the other. It was just a matter of time, wasn’t it? We all knew that.”

  Was he saying Manuel Vega had his brother killed? “Why?”

  Clay nodded to the men as they unpacked a body bag then walked over to the edge of the roof. I followed, watching the police empty the building, seeing the ambulance drive away. “No one will know you killed the gunman. We’ll take responsibility,” he said while looking out onto the street below.

  “Manuel ordered his brother’s killing?”

  “Eduardo threatened to hurt Elle,” he said, finally facing me. “Her father had men protecting her. Where the fuck they were tonight, God knows, but something happened to make him do it, act on the threat of killing his brother once and for all. And I, for one, am glad he did. That piece of shit didn’t deserve a trial or prison time. He deserved death. Both of them do.”

  I suddenly wasn’t so sure about that.

  “How’s the girl?” I asked, none of that mattering, not anymore.

  “Don’t know. Got shot in the abdomen.”

  Abdomen. The bullet had been meant for Elle. What I’d seen just moments before it had happened, the slight swell there, could it be what I thought?

  “Go, Adam.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “This is finished.”

  I met his gaze, knowing this would be the last time I would see him. Knowing him telling me to walk away was his good-bye. Without another word to him, I turned, not glancing back at the dead man, not caring. I tugged the door open, went down the stairs, and left the building, trying hard not to think about the fact that if the girl, Nikki, hadn’t stepped in front of Elle, she’d be the one whose blood stained the floor.

  I rode to the hospital and parked at the emergency entrance. Inside, just as I opened my mouth to ask where they’d taken Nikki, I heard the clicking of heels and turned to find Elle coming from around the corner, looking more lost than I’d ever seen her before. Her gaze was to the ground, and she was wringing her bloodied hands. The stain on her dress had spread. Blood stained her bare arms, and she shivered.

  “Elle.”

  She startled, coming to a stop, staring at me. When she looked up, I saw that blood also stained her face and collected in her hair that had come out of the bun she’d had it in. Her eyes welled with tears, and I went to her, sliding my jacket off and putting it over her shoulders before collecting her in my arms and holding her tight to me. She wept without speaking, the sounds muffled in my chest, her tears warm as they penetrated my shirt.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, not sure what this meant, if it was over for the poor girl.

  “They’re operating,” she said through sobs, pulling back to see me. Mascara had smeared across her face and on my shirt. “They —” She hiccupped, and fresh tears followed. “It doesn’t look good.”

  The door opened, and two women walked in heading straight for us.

  Fucking reporters.

  “Is there a private —” I asked the women at the desk, and before I finished, one came around and gestured for us to follow. She, too, must have seen the reporters. I led Elle, following the woman to a private waiting room. She handed me a box of tissues before quietly leaving. I sat Elle down and squatted before her, taking out a tissue and wiping her face as best as I could.

  “It was me he was aiming for, wasn’t it?” she asked, holding a tissue to her nose.

  I nodded, not wanting to tell her it was probably her uncle who’d ordered it. “The shooter is dead now. He can’t hurt you or Nikki anymore.” Standing, I went to the water cooler and poured out a cup. When I returned, I noticed she had a hand to her belly. “Elle?” I started, knowing this wasn’t the time but unable not to ask.

  She followed my gaze to her hand and slowly stood, shuddering once when my jacket slipped off one shoulder. I went to her, draping it over her again.

  “I’m pregnant, Adam.”

  I stared into her sad, beautiful eyes, the shadows underneath that hadn’t been there when I’d first met her. “How long?”

  “About three months.”

  I did the math while she stood watching me.

  “It’s mine.” I knew it was, but she nodded anyway. It was my turn to sit. She joined me, her hand on my lap while I covered my face. “I’m sorry, Elle. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  Her arms felt like little twigs around my neck, her cheek warm and wet against my face. “Shh. You don’t think I’ve forgiven you?”

  I leaned back, wanting to see her face, her eyes.

  “Do you…are you going to keep…”

  She nodded, a small smile finally lifting her face. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  I pulled her onto my lap, cradling her there, one hand on her belly. In all of this insanity that had made up the last months of my life, the smallest hint of happiness, of hope, bubbled inside me. “I can’t ever take back what happened, what I did.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but I stopped her. “I can’t, and whether you’ve forgiven me or not, I haven’t forgiven myself for my stupidity, for my selfishness, my single-mindedness.”

  “Adam…”

  “Stop, Elle, let me finish.”

  She nodded.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a very long time. I don’t know how you don’t hate me, how you keep letting me be with you, hold you, after what I did. I don’t understand. I guess it’s what good is, what good does.” She cried quiet tears, listening. “I love you, Elle. I set out to destroy you, but in the end, it destroyed me. I love you, and I promise I will always protect you. I vow it, I will lay my life down for you. I won’t let anyone or anything harm you or our baby ever again.”

  “Adam.” She choked on tears and hugged me tight, unable to speak more than a whisper, but that whisper I heard loud and clear, and I would never forget how she told me she loved me.

  After everything, this woman, this beautiful, gentle, amazing woman, loved me.

  BLOOD DRIED ON MY dress. I washed my hands and face, but I didn’t even try to get it off my dress. I wouldn’t. If Nikki didn’t survive this, I didn’t know what I would do. Adam sat beside me, his hands around mine, one moving to touch my belly now and again. Looking at him when he did was strange. It was like he wasn’t sure how he should touch the tiny swell, laying the gentlest of touches over it then quickly pulling away.

  “Adam, you know it wasn’t my father who had Alessandra kidnapped, don’t you?” Did he know? It wasn’t in the newspapers. Everything had been kept under wraps.

  He nodded. “I know that now.” Pain darkened his eyes when he answered. “I know your father tried to save her when he found out what Eduardo had done. The man I trusted kept that truth from me for a long time. He betrayed me, Elle. It doesn’t excuse what I’ve done, and that’s not why I’m telling you, I just want you to know I was fed lies for a very long time.�
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  “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. It’s the past and, no matter what, it’s not going to change.”

  “You’re wiser than I.”

  “The man tonight, do you know who sent him?”

  He studied me, and I knew he had the answer to that, but he hesitated.

  “I know my uncle had made some threats against me. He didn’t want my father to testify.”

  “The gunman worked for Eduardo Vega. You should also know he’s dead, Eduardo.”

  “What?”

  “He was found with a bullet in his head this morning.”

  I stood, walking away from him, shaking my head, thinking. “Who did that?” I knew the answer, didn’t I? Who would have done that? Who had a reason to do it? Or, more precisely, two reasons.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  I turned to Adam. “I need to call my father. Will you give me a few minutes?”

  Adam stood. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

  I nodded and watched him leave the room before I picked up the telephone in the corner and dialed my father.

  “Elle? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you. I saw what happened, but these assholes won’t give me any fucking information!”

  “I’m okay. I didn’t bring my phone with me. Nikki got shot. She took the bullet for me. I’m at the hospital with her, now. They’re operating.”

  “Thank God it wasn’t you.”

  “It shouldn’t be her either!”

  Silence then: “No. No, it shouldn’t. No one will harm you again, Elle. Not you or my grandbaby. Eduardo’s dead.”

  I knew then without a doubt that it had been my father who’d ordered his brother’s killing. He loved his brother, or had once. I knew they’d grown apart over the last few years, but they’d been so close for a long time. I could imagine the pain it caused my father to do it, how real he knew Eduardo’s threats to be.

  “I heard.” Neither of us said more on the topic.

  The door opened then while my father and I sat silent on the phone. A doctor walked in.

  “Ms. Vega?”

  “Yes?” I stood, my heart racing, the phone forgotten in my hand.

  “We’ve removed the bullet. There was quite some damage, but she’s strong. We’ve moved your friend to the ICU. Surgery went well, though, and I think she’ll make it.”

  I sucked in a breath, a huge smile stretching my face as tears rolled down my cheeks. “Can I see her?”

  Adam came inside carrying two cups of coffee. He paused at the door. “She’s okay?”

  The doctor turned to him. “She will be.” He turned back to me. “She’s not conscious yet, and we’ll keep her that way for a little while longer. You’ll be able to see her tomorrow afternoon. Go home and get some sleep yourself. She’s going to need your help.”

  I nodded. Adam set the coffee down, and I realized I still held the phone. “Dad?”

  “I heard, Elle. I heard.”

  “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “I don’t think you should be alone.”

  “I won’t be. The baby’s father will be with me.”

  “Good,” he said, after a long silence.

  Hanging up the phone, we left the coffee and Adam’s motorcycle behind and took a taxi home.

  TWO MONTHS LATER, ELLE and I stood outside the doctor’s office, holding onto the little booklet of photographs of our baby, neither of us able to speak.

  “So, a girl,” I said, one hand around Elle’s waist.

  “A girl,” she said, beaming up at me.

  “She’s going to have your nose,” I said, pointing to the tiny profile.

  “I can’t wait to hold her.”

  I turned to Elle and put the photos into my pocket. “I want to hold you right now.” Her growing belly pressed warm between us as I hugged her. “Let’s skip lunch,” I said, nuzzling at her ear.

  “We can’t.” She half shoved me away, but the smile on her face grew wider. She glowed and looked happier than I’d ever seen her, in spite of the shadows in her eyes marking the events of the past months. “Nikki’s waiting for us to pick her up and go for lunch.” She checked her watch. “We’re already fifteen minutes late.”

  Nikki was at SafeHouse, back to work again within a few weeks of being released from the hospital. She wasn’t yet able to drive, though, so Elle and I had been doing most of that because neither of us could convince her to stay in bed and rest up while she recovered. She was one tough girl. And stubborn as hell. Although, this time, she was in cahoots with me.

  “No, we’re not,” I said, kissing her cheek.

  “What do you mean?” She climbed into the car, and I closed the door, getting in on the driver’s side. “What are you up to, Adam?”

  I grinned. “Just want to spend some time with you, that’s all. Nikki’s all taken care of. Lunch will be delivered in about fifteen minutes and I’ve arranged for someone to take her home.”

  “What? Why? I should do that.”

  “That’s exactly why. Nikki and I are in agreement that you need to let go of any guilt you’re feeling over what happened to her and let her be. She’s fine. She’s told you that a hundred times. And, besides, I need a little alone time with you.”

  “Let me call her at least.”

  I shook my head and took her phone. “No, she knows. It was her idea. In fact, you and I will be spending the next six days in the Florida Keys alone together. A little getaway.”

  “What? Adam…” She smiled. “Florida?”

  I nodded. “Bags are in the back and tickets are in your purse.”

  “My purse? But when…”

  “You’re a little distracted these days, Elle,” I joked, pulling out of the parking lot. “I could stuff a pistol into your purse and you wouldn’t notice.” Her face stiffened. “Sorry, bad joke.”

  “Yeah. Florida? I haven’t been away in a long time.”

  “Six days with just us locked up in a hotel room on our own private beach. Just think of all the things I can do to you there.”

  She giggled.

  Her phone rang, and we both glanced at the display. It was her father. “He’s waiting to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “Tell him later,” I said, declining the call. I still hadn’t come to terms with everything, even knowing Manuel Vega had had nothing to do with Alessandra’s kidnapping and had even tried to save her. I wasn’t yet ready to face the man I had blamed for so many years. I wouldn’t keep his daughter from him, but I needed time.

  “Okay,” Elle said, smiling, understanding. Always understanding. “So Florida, huh?”

  I checked my watch and smiled. “I did forget one thing, but we have enough time to make our flight if we hurry.”

  “What did you pack for me? I don’t even have a swim suit I’d fit into.”

  I just smiled and drove back to Elle’s building. We wouldn’t be here for long, though. We’d started looking at houses outside the city for when the baby came.

  Parking in the garage, I came around to get Elle, but she climbed out herself. “I’m not an invalid, just pregnant.”

  “I like taking care of you.”

  She made a noise and pushed the button to call the elevator. “I’m hungry. I’ll grab a snack while you get whatever you forgot.”

  I smiled. I liked to watch her eat, liked seeing her put some meat back on her bones. Elle had been beautiful before the pregnancy, before everything. Now she was radiant. But she wouldn’t have time for that snack, not with what I had planned.

  We rode the elevator up in silence, our fingers intertwined. Once inside her condo, she went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out leftover pasta from the night before and sitting down on the counter.

  “You want some?” she asked, taking a fork and cramming penne onto it.

  “No, you go ahead.” I made a face. She seemed to crave cold pasta with yogurt and lemon. It was the strangest combination but she couldn’t get enough
.

  “It’s delicious,” she mumbled as I went into the bedroom to get what I’d come for.

  I doubled checked the contents of the box, took a deep breath, and walked back out to find her stuffing more of the cold pasta into her mouth, a little bit of yogurt on her chin. She looked so sweet sitting there, and she was mine. This beautiful woman was mine. And she was pregnant with my baby. We must have conceived her the day I’d given her the deed, when I’d found her in the cell. I was glad it hadn’t been in anger that she’d been created, but love, even if the circumstances had seemed impossible then.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  I went toward her and wiped off the glob of yogurt from her chin. “I was going to wait to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “I imagined something more romantic than you at the kitchen counter with food on your face.”

  She laughed. “What are you talking about, Adam?”

  I took out the box. She glanced at it, her face changing, a sniffle betraying her emotion.

  “I love you so much, Elle.” I took her hands in mine. “And somehow, you haven’t yet figured out how much better than me you can do.”

  “Shut up,” she said, the first tear sliding down her cheek.

  I kissed it away, her eyes even prettier when she cried. But I didn’t want to see her cry anymore.

  “In fact, I’m in awe of you every minute of every day.”

  She just watched me, and I could see her trying to hold back tears. I opened the box, looked at the engagement ring inside, and turned it toward her. All her efforts failed when she saw it and although she smiled, tears poured down her face.

  “Oh, Adam.”

  “Will you marry me, Elle?”

  I ALWAYS DID THIS snort-cry thing these days. It was awful and embarrassing, but since the pregnancy, I was hyper-emotional and, well, I snort-cried all the time. Even now, in what should have been the most romantic moment of my life, I had to run the back of my hand across my nose and attempt to control the leaking of my eyes and that damned snort-cry.