by Raven Dark
Fran opened the door to her two-storey walk-up. Not unlike the morning after I’d been with Kane that first time, her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she’d thrown on a worn, comfortable looking track suit. When she saw me, her eyes widened.
“So you're finished avoiding me then?” But her smile softened the accusation in her words.
Somehow, seeing her, I couldn’t fight it anymore. Losing Kane, the possibility of losing my father, the knowledge that my birth father was a sadistic mob boss who wanted me dead, the friends I’d made and now felt like I’d lost—all the horrors of the last few weeks I’d kept from her suddenly flooded back on me. Knowing that I’d pushed her away, even if it was to keep her safe, only made me feel worse.
“Fran…” Eyes welling, I covered my mouth, but a soft sob escaped nonetheless.
Without a word, she stepped out onto the stoop, drew me into a tight hug, and then walked me down her hall. In her living room, she sat me on the couch. Then she went and got the biggest tub of double chocolate fudge ice cream she could find, found two spoons, and curled up with me.
“I want to tell you everything. You deserve to know. It’s just—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She stroked my hair. “You don’t have to talk. Just let it out.”
Her understanding, her total lack of judgment, shattered the dam that held back my heartache like a wrecking ball.
Tomorrow I would be strong. Tomorrow I would move on and forget about the life I’d almost had. Today the man I loved was gone. Today, I needed to let myself hurt.
I curled up in her lap and sobbed.
“Mr. Davros. Another shot?”
I squinted up at the waiter. How many had I drunk? Six? Eight? I rarely allowed myself to get drunk. The last time I’d been drunk, I was in college, before I figured out I tended to get stupid when I was inebriated. I nodded, holding up a glass that swam into two.
The waiter poured the shot of bourbon, and I slammed it back. The burn seared my throat and heated my belly just right, sending that blessed blanket of numbness cascading over me. Washing away the misery of the last half week.
The last half week, since I’d sent Anika away.
“Hit me again.”
He filled the glass and then vanished as if he meant to be gone before I could ask for a third. “Should have just told him to leave the bottle.” I hammered the shot back.
I almost never went out to drink. Out at a noisy, busy club like this, in the half-darkness, with alcohol pumping through my veins, I presented too easy an opportunity for my enemies to take advantage. But I hadn’t been able to sit anywhere near my mansion without images of Anika plaguing me. I hadn’t been back since I’d last seen her, instead sleeping in my office, or at one of the hotels I owned, places I’d never taken her. Each time the drink stopped flowing, I thought only of her. Drinking alone would have been a bad idea. So I’d spent the night here, surrounded by people who knew me, who knew when to cut me off.
Don’t get me wrong, everything in me wanted to find her and drag her back to me, to never let her get away again. Except I couldn’t. As long as my father was alive, she was better off away from me.
When the bar closed, I let David drive me back to the mansion. I was too sloshed to tell him to take me somewhere else.
“I’ll cancel your appointments tomorrow, sir,” David said, looking back at me.
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Oh, who was I kidding? The hangover I had tomorrow would give the headaches I still had since my father’s thugs worked me over a run for their money.
David didn’t argue, but he shook his head. Looking like it took everything for him to keep silent.
“If you have something to say, David, spit it out.”
Nothing.
“I did what’s best for her.”
“Did you, sir? Or did you do what’s easy?”
I sat up. “Easy? You think it was easy to let her go?”
“Maybe not, but it was easier than the alternative.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He stopped the car in front of the house and looked over the seat at me again. His eyes were grave. “I think, sir. That loving Miss Anika scared the fuck out of you. I think, you were so afraid to lose her, you found it easier to shut yourself off and get rid of her than risk the pain.”
I pressed my hands to my eyes, but it didn’t shut out his words, or the images they evoked. “David, if she’s with me, she dies. Away from me, she lives. Do the math.”
“So you protect her. You take care of her. And you let her take care of you.”
“You didn’t hear my father. And you didn’t hear her. She wants what I can’t give.”
“No.” He shook his head, and the firmness in his voice took me aback. “No. She wants what you are too afraid to give.”
I stared, anger boiling up in me.
David got out. So did I. Before I thought about what I was doing, I grabbed him, spun him, and hit him full on in the face. David’s head snapped to the side. He stepped back a pace and looked at me.
It sank in slowly, he hadn’t even blocked me. He could have. I’ve seen him take on hitmen and fight mobsters twice his size, and yet, he didn’t raise a hand.
“Do you feel better, sir?” Low, even.
“Damn it, David, don’t do that. Don’t let me hit you.”
He shrugged. “Anika was made for you. When you’re ready to fight for her, instead of getting drunk or fighting with me, let me know.”
Again, I pressed my palms to my eyes. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he understand how dangerous it was for her to be anywhere near me?
David left without being dismissed. Up in the bedroom portion of my suite, I fell onto my bed, closing my eyes. Sleep would bring oblivion, and I would welcome it. Who cares if my head hung half off the side of the bed?
My eyes caught sight of something pink and fluffy on the floor, poking out from under the bed. I didn’t have anything that girly. I reached down and pulled out the stuffed pig.
“Oh, shit.” My guts twisted. “Damn it.” I sat up, staring at Anika’s plush toy. My maids must have kicked it under the bed by accident when they’d come in to clean.
I smiled, remembering. She’d made Pinky her safeword.
Since she’d last seen me, she would have spent each night without this fucking silly thing. After everything I’d taken from her, I’d managed to take this, too.
“Fucking hell.” I shot to my feet and marched to David’s room in the east wing. I banged on his door, and he opened it. The left side of his jaw was turning a dark purple. I winced at it.
“David. Look what I found.” I held up the pig.
“Anika’s.”
“Yeah.”
He moved aside, and I paced into his room. It looked much different than mine, small in a cozy way, all dark, varnished wood, with images of martial arts and swords mounted on his walls. Simple, but in a way that smacked of discipline, rather than economic choice.
David nodded to the pig. “You want me to send it to her? With another nice letter?”
It was subtle, but the barb was there.
I closed my eyes, head falling back. “Jesus, I handled this like an ass, didn’t I?”
“You think?”
“Well, what should I have done? Let my father kill her?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what? David, come on. This is uncharted territory for me. I don’t know how to handle this.”
“Handle what?”
I spun to him. “What else? Love, David. I don’t know how to handle love.”
Triumph lit up his eyes. He didn’t say it, but I could all but hear the thought in his head. I let my arms fall.
“All right, fine. I love her. That’s why I had to protect her. Don’t you get that? What was I supposed to do?”
“What you always do, sir.” He lowered himself onto a couch. “What does a Davros always do when someone gets in hi
s way?”
“We kill them.” I let out a sharp laugh, spinning to face a fireplace mantel along one wall. Then it hit me what I said, and I froze. Slowly, I turned my head to him. “Wait, you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”
He said nothing, but I could see it on his face, plain as day. I faced him.
“Do you have any idea what that would do? If I… No. He’s my father. I can’t…”
“Can’t you?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“You aren’t suggesting.” I couldn’t even say the words. It was too big, too insane even to consider. Not to mention, way too dangerous.
David gave me an innocent shake of his head, his face expressionless. “I’m not suggesting anything, Mr. Davros. I would never suggest such a thing.”
But there was a careful, calculated sound to the words that told me we were on the exact same page.
“Right.” I raked a hand through my hair. “You know there’s no coming back from something like this.”
“I’m aware.”
“So you’re in?”
“Always, sir.”
Not for the first time, it occurred to me how lucky I was to have friends like him on my side. I grinned. Anika would likely fight me when I saw her, but I wouldn’t let her go again.
“Wake Carl and tell him to fuel the jet.” I showed him the pig. “We wouldn’t want Anika to go without what’s hers another night.”
“Yes, sir.” David took out his phone.
I lost myself in my work.
It sounds strange, but I find dealing with sick patients, losing myself in either the monotony of the not so sick, or the harrying, breakneck race of dealing with the critically ill far more therapeutic than a good cry.
The week after I spoke to Oliver seemed only to have two modes. The hospital was either so dead I simply moved from patient to patient, which meant I could run on autopilot, or it was so harried that I hardly had time to think about anything but how to help the doctors keep the next patient alive.
Steve maintained the same distance as he had the first day, blending into the shadows as if he wasn’t even there. Just as well that he stayed out of sight. because I still had no idea how I would explain a bodyguard to Fran if she picked up on his presence.
It surprised me, but she never pressed me on what had been happening the last three weeks. Usually, she was like a dog with a bone, but she never brought it up, for which I was more than grateful. It seemed now that she was part of my life again, it was enough for her just to know we were where we needed to be.
When my shift ended, I let Fran drop me off in her mother’s car and hugged her as she pulled up to the door.
“You want to go for girl’s night tomorrow? Hot wings night at The Slippery Stool?”
I smiled. “I’d like that. God, I missed you.”
“Me too, girl.”
My heart twisted for an instant, hearing the name Kane used to call me. I flinched before I could stop myself.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I forgot.” She rubbed my back.
“It’s okay. I managed to go a whole two minutes without thinking about him.”
“So, there’s been nothing from He Who Shall Not Be Named?”
I shook my head.
“Is that good, or bad?”
“Both.”
She nodded. “It’ll hurt less. Eventually.”
“Yep.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hugged her one last time, hiding my face in her hair. Then I got out and watched her pull away. When she was gone, I looked across the street, noticing the plain, dark blue car sitting at the curb. My protection detail. I’d seen Steve driving that car the few times I’d noticed him. Standing out on my porch in the early morning twilight, I looked up and down the street. Long shadows stretched across lawns, and people walking down the street all felt too close. I shivered, despite the pleasantly warm morning. Much as I hated the reminder of what Kane and I had, it felt suddenly reassuring to know the bodyguard was there.
Sighing, I turned to let myself into the apartment.
As soon as I put the key in the lock, I froze. The door was already unlocked.
My heart sped up, beating in the back of my throat. Living in New York for the last few years, I’d learned never to leave a door unlocked.
It flashed through my mind, all the people who might have broken into my apartment, who might be waiting in there for me. Gavini could have found out he was my father somehow and come to confront me. The woman who’d tried to kill myself, my father and Kane could have found me or sent one of her goons.
Digging into my purse for the gun I’d bought the day after David had brought me back to the city, I glanced back at Steve’s car. He was already coming across the road toward me.
Silent, his lightly wrinkled face solemn, he motioned for me to step aside. I did, and he took out his pistol, moving quietly into the apartment. Watching him, I suddenly missed David with a potent intensity. I followed him in.
Once we reached the darkened living room, Steve felt for the light switch, turned it on, and crept deeper into the room. When I saw what was sitting on a couch against the wall, I stopped short.
On the middle cushion of my couch, Pinky sat propped up. Irritation washed over me, intense and biting. I could only assume Kane had sent him for me the same way he’d sent the bags with the clothing. David or one of his other staff must have left Pinky for me.
Loss tried to rip a hole in my heart, and I tamped it down, letting my anger burn it away. I wished he’d never sent the toy back, but at the same time, it was like receiving a tiny bit of something wonderful, a part of my life I’d thought lost forever.
“Wait, Steve, it’s okay.” I shoved my gun back into my purse.
“Miss?” He glanced back at me, keeping his weapon cupped between his hands.
Unable to answer, I crossed the room and bent down, picking up the stuffed pig. Without even realizing it, I hugged Pinky close and breathed him in. Kane’s sandalwood, masculine scent filled my head, and I breathed it in deeper. My eyes stung hot, and I closed them, desperately fighting the tears back.
“Miss? Are you okay?” He sounded utterly baffled.
I nodded. “I know who was here. I just wish he hadn’t come.”
“Now, you don’t mean that, do you, girl?”
I whirled.
Kane stood across the room, taking up the whole entrance to my kitchen. When my eyes widened, he smirked.
“Hello, angel.”
16
To say that seeing Kane there in my apartment was confusing would have been an understatement. Emotions roiled in me, too many to name, and so intense I could barely process them.
“What are you doing here?” I wished I could have sounded more confident, angry, but my voice came out a shaky rasp. I only half realized I was gripping Pinky in a stranglehold.
As if I hadn’t spoken, he nodded coolly to the bodyguard. “You can go now, Steve.”
Steve nodded and left; I heard the apartment door shut behind him. Kane strode into the living room, long smooth treads closing the space between us. As usual, I had to crane my neck back to look at him.
The memory of when we’d first met, of the way he’d muscled his way into my life, flooded back to me. That first day, he’d looked a lot like he did now. Charcoal black suit covering his massive frame, a devilish smile making my stomach flutter. The bruises on his face, his blackened eyes, all fading, didn’t make him look any less beautiful. Empathy and sadness for him washed over me, and I shut it out. What could he possibly want now? He’d cast me aside without so much as a proper goodbye, so he couldn’t be here for anything good.
I let my anger at what he’d done burn away the hope that tried to spark in my heart, letting it give me the strength to step back and keep distance between us. If he touched me, I didn’t know how long my resistance would last.
“What are you doing here?” At least I managed
to say it with conviction this time.
“I missed you too, angel.” He went to the couch, lowering himself onto it. His presence made the room look so much smaller. Funny how it also looked so right with him there.
“You broke into my apartment. You don’t get to do that anymore.”
His teeth flashed. “So I could have done it before? Damn, you should have told me. A break-in scene would have been hot.”
Frustration bit at me, almost overriding the way his wicked insinuation made my blood race a little hotter. “You could have called, like a normal person. Met somewhere. Somewhere public and well lit.”
“And you would have met with me, would you? You would have taken my calls like a good girl?”
“Fine, you have me there.”
Leaning back on the couch, as casually as if he owned the place, he looked me over exactly as he would have when I was his. As if he owned me. “I really did miss you, angel.”
“Kane, knock it off. Just say what you came to say and get out.”
“I couldn’t leave you without Pinky.” He nodded to my stuffed pig in my hand.
“You came all the way here just to give this back? Yeah, right. Why didn’t you just have it dropped off the way you did those clothes. And that fucking letter.”
“The letter…” He sighed and pushed to his feet, crossing the room almost to the kitchen. When he stopped, he kept his back to me, shoulders tight. “I thought the letter was the best way to handle things.”
“You thought breaking up with me through a letter was the best way? You didn’t even write it yourself, did you? Were those even your words? Or did you have someone write them, just like your speeches?”
He let out a breath that sounded shaky. Was it a scoff? At himself, or me?
“Those clothes. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?”
“I know.” Head bowed, his voice was almost too soft to hear.
“I wanted to knock your teeth out, but you were just gone. You took what we had away without even telling me yourself.”
At last, he turned to me. “Anika, I know it doesn’t help, but I did it to protect you.”
