by Belle Malory
She punched him hard in the gut once. He grunted, not expecting it, which made it easy for her to slip out from under him. “Oh, come on, Kennedy,” he called. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was obvious he could care less what anyone around them thought.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” she warned, brushing herself off.
The amusement disappeared from his face. “You and I both know that’s not what you want.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, lowering her voice into one that rang with finality. “That’s what I want.”
She headed towards the exit, keeping her eyes on the floor as the unmistakable sound of whistles and laughter followed her out the door.
Embarrassed was putting it lightly. She was pretty sure she’d never been so humiliated in her life. If Phoenix hadn’t stopped when he did, she wasn’t sure when she would have snapped out of that hormone-induced haze. For all she knew, she might have had sex with him right there in the middle of the sparring floor with everyone watching from the sidelines.
“Hey, Kennedy, wait up!”
The second keeper, Lexie Brümfeld, jogged to her side. Her puffy cheeks were scrunched up more than usual, probably from trying not to laugh. Over the last few months, Kennedy couldn’t help but become friends with the talkative Brit. Lexie was just that type of person—the kind you instantly feel like you’ve known your whole life.
“I promise I didn’t come over here to make fun of you for your X-rated Karate Kid performance.”
Kennedy looked at her pointedly. “And yet you effortlessly managed to do so already.”
“What can I say?” Lexie grinned. “Sometimes it slips. Anyway, the real reason I sought you out was because I spoke to Professor Mason earlier and he was in the middle of booking you a flight to Russia. I asked him about it, and he told me you were checking out a lead on Nika.”
Kennedy slowed her steps. She hadn’t expected the professor to tell anyone. Then again, her absence in training wouldn’t go unnoticed. Some sort of explanation had to be made. Why wouldn’t he tell the other keepers truth?
“Yes, I am,” she told Lexie. “But I’d like to keep it as quiet as possible.” She glanced back at the door to the training room they had come from, making sure no one had followed.
“Of course,” Lexie said. “Mason already warned me to keep it hush. I just wanted to give you this before you left.” She held out a shiny chain. Kennedy picked it up, looking at it more closely. There was a golden carving of a tiger attached to it.
“It’s Nika’s,” Lexie explained. “She left it in her locker. I’m not sure if it came from her mum or dad, but for whatever reason, it calms her when she’s upset. I’ve seen her twirling it around her fingers countless times. I know she’d like to have it back.”
“Why don’t you wait until she returns?”
Lexie stared ahead as she walked, her eyes glazing over. “Even if you find her, it doesn’t mean she’s coming back to Olympus. I’m not trying to sound negative or anything, Kennedy, but Nika has never really been at home here. There are things she has to deal with, and I’m not sure how long those things will take. I also know you’re not the type who would force her to come back.”
“I’m not planning to force her,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “I’m planning to convince her.”
Kennedy shifted under the weight of Lexie’s skeptical gaze. Was it really so hard to believe Nika could be convinced?
“I hope you do,” Lexie said after a long moment. “You can relate a little, since you also had to be convinced into this life. But just…don’t get your hopes too high. Nika isn’t like the rest of us. She’s been…”
“Damaged,” Kennedy said softly. “I know. But even the most broken things can be fixed. No one has really been there for her, Lexie. I know I haven’t been here that long, but I saw how people treated Nika. They isolated her.”
Lexie shook her head. “There’s where you’re wrong. The majority of us did try at one point or another, myself included. Nika isolates herself. If someone gets too close, she lashes out, and after a while, that crap gets exhausting.”
“Are you saying you don’t think she can be helped?”
Lexie considered that question. “She needs to want the help first.”
Kennedy tucked a strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear. “If she’s willing, I’ll be there for her.”
“I know you will.” Lexie reached for Kennedy’s arm, linking it through hers. “So tell me something. Does Phoenix know you’re leaving yet?”
The question threw her off. Her eyes darted to Lexie’s, and she went all tongue-tied, not sure how to answer. Should she have told him?
A small, knowing smile played at Lexie’s mouth. “Ah, come on. I had to ask.”
“Um, no. He doesn’t know yet.” Kennedy said, then quickly added, “And please don’t tell him.”
“I won’t,” Lexie promised, gently squeezing her arm. “Great Black Hole, I don’t even want to be around when he finds out.”
“Why? Do you think he’ll be upset about the Mexico assignment?” She expected Phoenix to be a little peeved, but more than likely it would be because he’d have to be bothered with finding a replacement. They were scheduled to leave Friday morning.
“Mexico will be the last of his worries. I guarantee he’ll be mad as hell that Mason is letting you go to Russia alone.”
Kennedy swallowed, wondering if she was making a mistake by not telling him. More than likely, this would bother him, especially since he blamed himself for losing Nika. If he had his way, he’d be going with her. But this was something she was determined to do on her own. If that meant pissing him off, then she’d deal with it when the time came.
Twenty-Two
Dominika looked down at her brace, checking the time. She still didn’t know what she was doing here, waiting around in the lobby of this ritzy high rise as its wealthy residents strolled in and out of the main door. What purpose would it serve? It was stupid. She was stupid for coming here.
Better leave now before someone recognizes you, stupid girl.
She eyed the exit, hesitating.
“Miss?” the doorman said, startling her.
She glanced up, realizing he’d come out from behind his desk. He must’ve called her name several times.
“He will see you now.” The doorman pointed down the hall, directing her towards the elevators. “Twentieth floor. Unit five.”
“Okay.” She nodded, feeling a little dazed. “Spasibo.”
Uncertainty rushed through her as she stood. Should she turn back? She had already traveled a long way. Maybe it was better to do what she came here for.
Resolved to see it through, Dominika entered the elevator with an elderly woman dressed in fur. As she readjusted the hood of her coat, she caught the woman turning her nose up at her. She was probably wondering what some punk kid was doing in her building, an idea that both amused and irritated Dominika. Ignorant woman. She could probably buy the whole building with the money DOE poured into her bank account, but of course rich people never saw past your clothes and demeanor, especially people in Moscow. The omnipresent divide between the rich and the poor in this city hadn’t changed much since she’d last been here.
The elderly snob got off on the tenth floor, still giving Dominika the stink eye. She hissed at the old woman, unable to help herself, and laughed when the old woman scurried off in a huff. People were so predictable. All you had to do was act a little crazy, and they went running. Made getting rid of them so much easier.
Unit five was easy to find. It was the last apartment on the floor.
Before knocking, Dominika reached into her pocket and felt the cold metal of the knife. A gun would’ve been her first choice but getting a hold of one of those took too much time. Auntie Eva didn’t have a permit, and it wasn’t as if she could get one when every cop in this country was looking for her.
She wasn’t sure yet if she would need to use the knife. S
he hoped it wouldn’t come down to that. Knives were messy. Bloody. Also, she really didn’t want to kill Oz.
The door to unit five swung open before she had the chance to knock. Her breath caught in her chest.
Ten years.
It had been ten long years since she last saw Ozias Ryder, but she would know those pale green eyes in a heartbeat. Those eyes belonged to her best childhood friend, and the last friend she’d ever made. Seeing him now brought it all to the surface, every beautiful memory choking her with how much she missed him—how much she missed them.
Dominika swallowed, steeling herself. This was also the son of her family’s murderer. If he refused to answer her questions, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
She gasped when Oz slipped his lean arms around her waist and pulled her towards him.
“Nikki, it’s been so long. You have no idea how happy I am to see—what the fuck?” He immediately backed up, the blade of her knife pressed against his throat guiding him. His eyes darted towards the blade, then back to her. “Is this how you normally greet old friends?”
Dominika ignored his question and shut the door with her foot. She learned long ago that saying as few words as possible was the best way to make people listen. Right now she needed Oz to listen. He had to take her seriously.
She allowed herself a moment to look at him. His height unnerved her a little. He was tall, well over six feet, and his brown hair was shaved close to his head. He’d grown up, become a man, and it was strange no longer seeing the little boy she once knew and loved.
Oz watched her too. She wondered if he still saw his old friend beneath her exterior. Or had they ever truly been friends to begin with? Perhaps his father had forced him to pretend, forced him to get close, making it that much easier for him to wipe them out when the time came.
Oz swallowed, his throat constricting against the edge of her blade. Dominika shook herself. Why was she paying attention to his throat muscles when she needed to figure out her next move?
Her eyes wandered over the apartment. It was modern and elegant, no less than she expected. A pair of camel-colored leather sofas sat in front of an expansive window looking out on the city.
“Go sit over there,” she said, lowering the knife.
Oz did as she asked, slowly lowering himself onto one of the sofas. She sat across from him, keeping her knife tucked close.
“I can’t tell you how many times I tried to get in touch with you over the years, Nikki. Apparently my last name doesn’t mean shit to your DOE officials. Contacting the damned pope would’ve been easier, I think.” He let out a long sigh. “And now you’re here. I can’t believe you’re fucking here.”
Dominika wasn’t sure she liked the way his eyes roamed over her. She’d seen that look before. It occurred to her that Oz wasn’t a little boy anymore, and she wasn’t his eight-year-old best friend. All he saw was blonde hair and long legs.
Whatever. That wouldn’t last long. Once she upped the crazy a little more, he would forget about the way she looked. Most people did.
“Listen up, Oz. I’ll make this simple. I have questions I need to ask. If I think you’re lying or holding out on me, I will slit your throat. Understand?”
He laughed a little. By the sound of it, he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.
She didn’t laugh with him. This was nothing to laugh about.
“My God, you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“First question,” Dominika began. “Where is your father?”
“How should I know? I haven’t spoken to that bastard in years.”
He hadn’t spoken to his father? Oz had been Maxwell’s only son. His pride and joy. She hadn’t expected to discover the two of them weren’t close anymore.
She stood up, crossing her arms. “That’s not helpful.” It didn’t matter that they weren’t speaking. She was sure he could easily track his father down.
“Well, that’s all I’ve got, sweetheart. My guess is he’s sitting behind his corporate throne at Ryder Industries.”
There was little to no fear in his eyes as Oz stared her down. Wasn’t he afraid of her? He should be scared. Why wasn’t he scared?
“Look, I don’t mind answering your questions,” he said. “Hell, I’m happy to answer them—that’s how excited I am to see you, Nikki. But you don’t have to wave your knife at me like a damned lunatic to get me to talk. What’s wrong with you, girl? I’m your friend. I’ve always been your friend.”
She sighed, rubbing her temple with her free hand. Stabbing Oz might be necessary after all. She didn’t want to do it, but she could tell he was going to be difficult.
“Second question,” she tried again, hoping he would play by her rules this time. “Do you know anything about Project 27?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know, but your father is listed as a contributor to the project.”
“Like I said,” Oz ground out. “I. Don’t. Speak. To. Him.”
Nika frowned at his determination to be uncooperative.
A few photographs lined the walls. She looked over them, seeing Oz’s mother and little sister. Seeing their faces and how much they’d grown pulled at her heart in a way she wished wasn’t possible. She breathed out through her nose, collecting herself. There were no pictures anywhere of Oz’s American father anywhere. She inwardly sighed, supposing they could have had a falling out.
“Third question.” She turned around, facing a very curious looking Oz. “Do you know the names of the men your father sent to murder my family?”
She kept her expression devoid of emotion as she watched Oz’s face morph into shock.
“So then you know…” He slowly shook his head, his eyes glimmering. “God, Nikki, I swear to you I didn’t find out until I was older. I tried to turn his ass in, but—”
“When you found out is of no importance to me,” she said, her voice hardening. “Do you know their names or not?”
Oz stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of her. He looked like he wanted to touch her but held himself back. “No,” he said weakly. “I wish I did.”
The room began to feel hot. For the first time in ten years, Dominika felt her eyes burn with the threat of tears. Coming here had been a waste of time obviously. She should have known all it would do was dig up old memories.
Oz was useless. She needed to leave now before she killed him just to make herself feel better.
“Nikki, I cut myself off from him for a reason. You were that reason. I found out my junior year of high school while I was interning for Ryder Industries. It was all there in my dad’s personal files.”
“What was there?”
“Will you sit down?” he asked, pleading with her. “I promise I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Sitting down and scooping information from Oz could be beneficial. It would bring her one step closer to getting revenge on Maxwell Ryder. And that’s what she wanted, right?
She shook her head. “I’ve got to go,” she said, turning towards the door. “This was a mistake.”
Despite everything, she didn’t want to stand in Oz’s presence a moment longer. His tone was too gentle, his eyes too caring. She couldn’t let him see her fall apart.
She felt his hand wrap around hers as she reached for the handle. Turning around too quickly, the tip of her knife cut Oz’s forearm. Dominika tensed up, dropping the knife to the floor.
“It’s okay,” Oz assured her. “It’s just a scratch.”
Dominika stared at the small cut with wide eyes. Bright red blood dripped across his skin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Nikki, it’s nothing.” He pressed his arm into his shirt, using his free hand to turn her chin up. “I’m fine,” he said, smiling as if to prove it. “How can I not be fine? My best friend in the whole world is here to see me…I’m just hoping she doesn’t hold me accountable for my father’s crimes.”
Dominika closed her eyes. Being here with Oz brought out t
he scared, innocent little girl that she had worked so hard to let go of. That girl was no more. She died the same day her family was murdered.
“I have to go.”
Because she didn’t hold Oz accountable.
Maxwell had taken away everyone in her family. Killing his son would be justified. She should want to do it. But she didn’t.
“Don’t, Nikki,” he pleaded. “I know it’s hard, but stay. I can help you. In whatever way I can, I will help you.”
Dominika ran out of the apartment before she lost it, hurrying for the elevator. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Oz to follow her, but he wasn’t there.
When the elevator door closed, she crumpled to the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she touched them, stunned to see she was still capable of producing tears. After losing her family, she cried for days on end. All at once, she lost her mother, father, sisters, and brothers. She remembered wondering, in that childish way kids wonder about things, if her body would dry out inside once she cried out all of her tears. Would she die too? She hoped so. Because then she could be with her family again.
Dominika sighed, wiping her eyes. She pressed the lobby button on the elevator wall.
Maxwell damn well better be grateful his kid had been such a good friend growing up. It was also a good thing his kid was smart enough to despise him. If Oz Ryder had been anything less, she would have stabbed him to death.
Twenty-Three
Kennedy bundled up in her jacket, trying to stay warm. She was decked out in layers of thermals, gloves, scarves, and socks, but none of it seemed to be working. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she wasn’t standing outside like an idiot, trying to peek in through the window of the house she sincerely hoped belonged to Eva Duchovny. If it didn’t, that would make her a random Peeping Tom. Problem was, she couldn’t read any of the street signs, and she was too embarrassed to ask Matilda for help. Knocking on the door wouldn’t help either, especially if Nika was, in fact, hiding in there. If this lady was protective enough to keep her ex-husband’s niece hidden, then she would lie for her too. Getting the door slammed in her face was not how she wanted this to play out.
