A wistful smile touched his lips. “She always does.”
Nadia went in for the kill. “So, screw John. I’m protected like Fort Knox. If you want, I can bring one of the officers up with me.”
Levi’s jaw hardened. “No. I’ll walk you up and make sure there’s an officer stationed at your door.”
Nadia sighed, whatever would let Levi go home to his girls and wife faster. She was going to have a word with John about this.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try this, officer?”
“I’m on duty, ma’am,” the fresh-faced cop said.
“It’s your loss.” Nadia turned away from the entrance and closed the door, still holding a sample of the appetizer Dugal had made. Poor Levi. He wasn’t comfortable leaving her with a cop who looked like he was fresh out of the academy. It wasn’t until John texted that he was five minutes away that the SEAL left.
It was six o’ clock. The festivities had started. John was going to be in the doghouse if Levi completely missed trick-or-treating with his girls.
She headed back to the kitchen where Dugal was checking on the roast. He shut the oven and stared at the sausage roll in her hands.
“Nay?” He frowned.
“Nay,” she replied.
“It’s Halloween. Even cops are allowed to have fun.”
The walkie-talkie on the counter sounded. “We’re starving.”
It was Clyde.
The Halloween festivities were set up in the parking lot. The stairs were blocked so kids couldn’t come up. Clyde and Arthur were handing out candy along with the other residents.
“I can bring them something,” she said.
“I’ll do it,” Dugal said. “You stay here and watch the roast.”
“You just want to show off your pirate outfit,” Nadia told Dugal as he fixed a patch across one eye. A bandana covered his bald head. He fastened the wide belt around his waist. His Claymore sword was sheathed in a scabbard that hung off the belt.
“Be careful with that thing,” Nadia warned.
“Aye.”
“Don’t let the children touch it.”
“They’d love to see it. A real Scottish sword.”
“Scottish pirate?”
“Aye.” His grin was all teeth. “Ye don’t look bad yourself.”
“Yes, but it’s getting hot.” Since the Locke Demon didn’t have a romantic interest in Hodgetown, Nadia decided to go with the vampire-warrior of her favorite vampire-werewolf franchise. It was a bodysuit; a corset-like top and chunky boots completed the look. She also slathered white foundation on her face and finished with red lipstick. She skipped the fangs though. Nadia didn’t want to deal with them tonight.
As Dugal stalked out the backdoor, her dad came in. He was the only one of his friends who didn’t don a costume. He said Nadia did enough dressing up for both of them. Spoilsport. He was carrying a tray of pies. “I hope these turned out okay.”
“Dad, I told you we could have just gotten those from the supermarket.”
He stared at her from under his spectacles. “And I’ve said many times those are bad for you.”
“The sugar in these is probably as bad as all the preservatives.”
Her dad proceeded to lecture her about high-fructose corn syrup and polyphosphates. She’d heard this before and let him chatter as she surreptitiously checked her phone. The adults were coming at eight after the kids were done trick-or-treating.
There was a message from Kelso that he was ready to chow down. Gabby said she was having a problem fitting into her costume and might be late. John said he was having trouble finding “fuckin’ parking.” She did tell him the parking lot was occupied. Served him right.
But her eyes zeroed in on a text message from Anonymous_574. She’d finally used the number Nadia left her in the chatroom.
The message was: “Get out now!”
Was this a joke?
“Excuse me, Dad, I need to call someone.” She went to her bedroom and called the number on the text message.
“Hello?” It sounded like Sally’s voice.
“Sally? How—”
“I escaped,” she was whispering. “I thought I’d come to you, but I realized they’re tracking me.”
“How?”
“Just get out, please! I think I led them to you. I cut out the tracker…” Her voice went shaky as if she started running.
“Who’s tracking you?”
The line went dead.
She tried to call back, but it kept on ringing.
Leaving the bedroom, she called John.
“I’m parked up the street,” he growled. “I’ll be there in—”
“Shut up and listen. Sally called …” her voice died, and blood drained from her face.
Two black-clad men, their features covered by balaclavas, stood in her kitchen. One of them had a gun pointed at Stephen.
“Hand me that phone.” One of them spoke tersely. “Now.” He pressed the gun against the back of her father’s head.
She did so without hesitation even when John was cursing at the other end.
“Your boyfriend can’t help you now.” The man looked at the phone, swiped to end the call, and handed it over to his comrade. “Check the messages.”
Nadia and her father kept their gazes locked. She hated the fear in his eyes. It wasn’t for him, but for her. Did her own gaze reflect the same?
Get out now!
She should have checked her phone sooner. But how could she have known? There’d been no contact with Sally since that Lisbeth message and later when she saw her at the club. And now …
She led those men here.
“Where is she?” the man pointing the gun to Stephen’s head asked.
“I don’t know. You saw the messages.” She glanced at her father. “Please let Dad go. You have me.”
“Sonyashnik, no,” her father pleaded.
Dammit.
The second man swiped the number and walked over to Nadia. “Tell her to come here.”
“She knows you’re looking for her. She won’t come.”
“Then maybe we can use you and your father as incentive, hmmm…?”
“Nadia?” Sally’s voice whispered.
Nadia swallowed. “Where are you?”
“I’m still … Are you still at the apartment? I told you to leave.”
Too late.
“Why don’t you come over? It’ll be okay. I can help you.”
“They’re there, aren’t they …You’re going to … I thought I could trust you. You said in your messages to me—never mind.”
“Don’t. Don’t hang up!” The line went dead and Nadia wanted to scream.
At least John would be here soon.
“There’s a cop outside the door,” she said, trying to steady her voice “You—”
A bloodcurdling cry roared in the apartment. A battle cry that chilled the air.
Nadia watched in horror as the glint of a medieval sword hacked through the arm that was holding the gun to Stephen’s head.
Screams filled the apartment.
Something crashed.
Someone cursed.
As the man holding her father hostage dropped, Dugal’s brutish form appeared. The man beside Nadia tried to grab her, but she ducked and twisted that man’s arm.
“Everyone freeze!”
Muffled pops and gunfire exploded.
A force sent Nadia flying to the floor. She hit the tiles hard, her arms taking the brunt of the fall. When she looked up, it was all over.
Her assailant was pinned to the wall by Dugal’s sword.
No one else was left standing.
25
Two successive gunshots exploded from the top floors just as John cleared the first step of the staircase.
Two patrol officers were following him, but he was way ahead as he climbed the steps two at a time.
“Nadia’s in trouble.” John had Levi on the phone. “Need you back here.”
&nb
sp; “I shouldn’t have left her,” Levi groaned in remorse.
“Stop dwelling,” John said. “Get Bristow and Roarke. All hands-on deck. Now.”
He rounded the stairwell to Nadia’s apartment door. It was wide open. A young officer was sitting against the wall, radioing for help.
But what he saw defied all reason.
A man in black was slowly slipping to the floor, the sword that affixed him to the wall through his chest succumbing to gravity.
His fucking heart lodged in his throat.
“Nadia!” John roared.
He skidded into the kitchen.
Blood.
So much blood.
But Nadia was alive, her hands drenched in bright red as she tried to stop the bleeding from Dugal’s chest. Off to the side, Stephen sat against the center island, pale as death, holding a kitchen towel to his shoulder. At his feet, another man in black had his arm partly shorn off, swimming in a pool of blood.
“I can’t stop the bleeding,” Nadia choked, summoning John’s attention now that he’d assessed the situation. Tears streamed down her cheeks, smudging black makeup into the white paint on her face.
“I’ve got it,” John spoke calmly, taking over the towel she’d been using to hold pressure to the wound. “Ambulance is on the way.” He nodded to her father. “Stay with Stephen.”
Dugal’s lids were fluttering. His mouth moved.
“You foolish old Scot,” John said. “What did you do? Charge at a man who was holding a gun?”
“The lass …”
“She’s fine.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Dugal’s mouth. “Nailed … that bas…tard…to the wall.”
“You did.” Where was the fucking ambulance?
Dugal coughed and blood came out of his mouth. He was bleeding internally.
“Where else were you shot?” his voice grew rough. Bristow. They needed Bristow.
“So cold,” the Scot mumbled. “Need … whisky.”
“You’ll have all the whisky you want, man,” John said. “Just stay with me.”
Dugal’s eyes closed, and he went still.
26
Dugal and Stephen were loaded into separate ambulances.
Colin went with his father while Nadia climbed into the one carrying hers.
As for John, he followed the emergency vehicles, fingers clenched around the steering wheel, wondering if all of this was his fault. Did he regret some decisions he made in his job? Of course, but he’d never dwelled on “what-ifs” until tonight.
What if he had left his investigation of Dmitry Vovk until after Nadia’s party? He would’ve been the one who picked her up at CTTF. He would’ve been there to protect them. Levi wouldn’t be feeling guilt-ridden. John hated the situation he put his man in. Not only that, what if he left thirty minutes earlier? None of this would have happened.
“Fuck!” He punched the steering wheel.
“Do I need to drive?” Bristow asked by his side. Levi and Declan hung back at the apartment as the detectives cleaned up the scene. Both intruders were dead. The man with the shorn arm was Cain Morris. The other one would soon be identified.
“I’m fine,” he clipped.
Their Escalade followed the ambulances closely, running through a red light as cars blared their horns at their opportunistic vehicle.
“We know where the ambulances are heading,” Bristow said. “Causing an accident by—”
“Zip the commentary, Bristow,” John snarled.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Damn you!” He glanced over at his passenger. “Shut the fuck up.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Bristow raising his arms in surrender, finally falling quiet. The exit to Downtown Medical was coming up. John was beginning to hate that hospital so much.
His passenger didn’t say anything else until they got to the emergency room when John stopped short of entering. He exhaled heavily. “What if she doesn’t want me there?”
“Seriously?” Bristow scoffed. “If there’s one time for you to consider how people feel about you, now is not the time. She rejects you, you take it like a man and try again.”
He glared at the SEAL who seemed to bear witness to all of John’s moments of extreme conflict.
Bristow’s lips curled into a sneer and he got into John’s face. “Nadia is beyond shattered. Two of the people she loves are fighting for their lives. Make yourself vulnerable. Try to be everything she needs even if she pushes you away. You’ll never know what she needs by giving her space. Not this time, G. That’s the easy way out. She didn’t ask you for it. All her friends are at the apartment doing their part. You’re here. Do yours.”
“I wasn’t going to abandon her.”
“No. You were going to be lurking in stairwells and asking me to get you info.” Bristow folded his arms. “Guess what? I’m not doing it.”
John exhaled a fractured breath. That was his default behavior but not any longer. He’d accepted in the past week that the life he knew as a CIA officer was about to change. He couldn’t be who Nadia needed and stay in the shadows. He was going to be that man beside her every step of the way. Walking through the sliding glass doors of the emergency room, he tried not to flinch as several pairs of eyes flew to him. He felt every single disguise he ever wore peel away, and he tried to act rationally when he saw Colin embracing a sobbing Nadia in his arms.
Colin’s eyes were red, mouth set in a firm line, but he whispered in Nadia’s ear at his approach.
“Babe,” John said.
Nadia raised her head, and he flinched as he took in the despair reflected in her eyes.
Make yourself vulnerable. Bristow’s words repeated in his head.
He opened his arms, waited in bated breath for her rejection, his guilt weighing him down. Because despite what Bristow said, what happened was all John’s fault.
He promised to protect her and the people she cared about.
He failed.
“John,” Nadia’s broken voice whispered before she extricated herself from Colin’s arms and went to his.
His lungs labored to exhale as his arms wrapped around her.
Nadia tilted up her chin, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m scared.” He could barely hear her words.
“Hang in there, babe,” he told her. John never gave false promises, and he wasn’t starting now. Then he realized why she voiced her fears so quietly—she didn’t want to add to Colin’s anxiety. He raised his gaze to the Scot. “Your father is one of the fiercest men I’ve ever met.” And he was being honest. Pinning a man to a wall with a sword wasn’t for the faint of heart. “He’s not going to let those bastards win.”
Colin nodded grimly.
The sliding doors to the emergency room swished open again and Dugal’s son, Alec, arrived with Arthur and Clyde. The three newcomers approached and asked for an update. After giving them one, they moved to a row of couches and chairs.
There weren’t enough seats in that section for all of them and John had a feeling Nadia wanted to stay with the people who knew Dugal and Stephen the best, even though he wanted her right where she belonged.
In his arms.
Nadia drew him away, out of earshot of the rest of the group.
“I feel it’s my fault,” she admitted. “What if—”
“Don’t say that,” he cut her off. “It’s mine. All mine.”
She was shaking her head and starting to push away. “I can’t process this right now.” She glanced at the huddle. “I want to be there for Colin and Alec.”
“Of course.” What else could he say? This wasn’t about him, and he was still drowning in his own guilt.
Raising her hand and cupping his jaw, she gave it a squeeze, but said no more before she walked over to Dugal’s sons.
Three hours later, John was by himself, standing against the wall beside the vending machine. Bristow came in, took one look at John and then at the huddle with Nadia. The ginger-haired
SEAL walked over to him.
“No go. Huh?”
“It’s fine. Nadia doesn’t blame me, but she needs them.” John nodded over to the group. It was the collective strength of the people who were closest to Dugal and Stephen that was necessary for all of them to get through this. A relatable shared love for the men whose lives were currently hanging in the balance. Where one would fall under despair, the other could prop him or her up with hope. “Any news?”
“Stephen is out of surgery.”
“How—?”
Bristow raised a brow.
“Never mind. You did work here before.”
“Still not my place to tell Nadia but that’ll be one thing off your mind too.”
“Any news on Dugal?”
“Shot once in the chest, twice in the back.”
John replayed the gruesome scene he came upon. “Morris got off two shots despite almost losing an arm?”
“I got the quick assessment from Kelso. Dugal hacked through Morris and went after Nadia’s assailant who tried to use her as shield. The patrol officer guarding the entrance heard the commotion and barged in and was initially stunned by what he was seeing. This allowed assailant number two to get off a shot at him and Dugal. Meanwhile Morris recovered, and was apparently ambidextrous and picked up his gun and shot off two rounds into Dugal’s back.
“Stephen tried to stop Morris and got shot,” John concluded.
“Yes. And the patrol officer managed to kill Morris.”
“Damn, did the patrol officer say if he witnessed Dugal impale our second attacker to the wall?”
Bristow grinned. “Kelso said the poor cop might be in therapy for a while.”
An aching fondness expanded in his chest. “That old bastard better make it.”
He has to make it.
Nadia thought miserably. The guilt weighing her heart was unbearable. If she hadn’t sent Levi away, would this have happened? She stared at her fingers. She wasn’t able to scrub all the blood from her fingernails. Her cuticles still bore the evidence of the carnage in her kitchen. The horror of not knowing who to save first.
“I’m fine,” her father gasped. “Hand me that towel and see to Dugal.”
Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4) Page 24
