* * *
He had his supplies, weapons included, and he’d picked up a new pack for Torrhent to replace the one she’d had to leave at the jail. Now, Taigen just needed to keep his little piece of leverage safe. At the moment, however, he decided it might be a little more difficult than he’d originally planned.
The man waiting at the bottom of the stairs was armed. Fully automatic pistol. Military grade. The guy was serious, but not military.
Taigen knew it by studying his stance. Demoted to be lookout, he thought. Ouch.
He hiked the duffle bag higher on his shoulder. He had to hurry. If this man was a lookout, others were searching for Torrhent, maybe had already found her.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Mind moving? I need to get upstairs.” Taigen hiked the bag on his shoulder again.
“Stairway is closed for repair.” Russian. Moscow to be exact.
Plenty of men with the same accent had tried to kill him at one point or another over the last decade, most long dead now. His service in the Navy couldn’t take the credit, though. “Come on, man. This bag’s heavy.”
The Russian stepped closer. He smelled of cigarettes and body odor. “I said stairway is closed. Use fire escape.”
Taigen smiled. “Fine.” He dropped the bag on top of the Russian’s foot, all sixty pounds. In less than two heartbeats, he’d wrapped his hands around the barrel of the man’s weapon and swung it around. He didn’t wait for the Russian to realize what had happened, knocking him out cold with the butt of the gun. He looked down on his handiwork. “I asked nicely.”
Chapter 6
The apartment door slammed against the wall.
The sound startled her, but nothing scared her as much as the look on Taigen’s face. It told her something had gone terribly wrong since their conversation.
Eyes wide, Torrhent clutched her clothes to her chest as he flew past her.
“We have to go,” he breathed, pushing his way into the bedroom. “Now.”
She froze in place. Her words stuck in her throat. “They’re . . . here, aren’t they?” She followed him into the bedroom.
Taigen tossed clothing over his shoulder toward the bed. He glanced at her for only a moment. “Yes. Downstairs. Change your clothes.”
She turned on her heel then paused when Taigen pulled a gun from the closet. “Where are we going?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Taigen pushed her out into the living room. Barely glancing in her direction, he pulled a wad of cash down from one of the kitchen cabinets as he gave her instructions. “Make sure no one is in the hallway.”
“Shouldn’t we have a plan?” Torrhent pulled a borrowed T-shirt over her head and reached for her flannel shirt. She finished getting dressed, replacing his woman’s shorts with her jeans and zipped up her boots. As an expert in leaving no traces behind, she scoured the room for any evidence she’d missed. Habits like these were the only thing keeping her alive, and from the look of it, Taigen knew it, too.
“Listen,” he said, his eyes boring deep into hers, “the sooner you stop being my problem and start becoming a solution, the better off you’ll be.”
“You don’t need to be an ass about it. What do you want me to do?”
“Take this.” Taigen offered her the gun. “Shoot anyone who comes near the door.”
Torrhent took the weapon by the handle, feeling the weight of it in her hands. She didn’t have much experience with guns, but when it came down to it, she’d learn fast.
He stalked into the bathroom without another word.
She slowly made her way across the floor, the barrel of the gun aimed down. Her heartbeat sounded like church bells, loud in her ears. She swore if someone was in the hallway, they’d certainly hear her coming. Torrhent’s free hand hovered over the doorknob, her ears straining to hear through the door. She opened it slowly, bringing the gun to chest level before pushing her head out into the hallway.
It was empty.
Taigen told her they were downstairs, but what if he’d been wrong? They could be in someone’s apartment. She pushed herself completely out into the open, cautiously moving toward the stairs. She made note of the unnatural silence in the apartment building. Glancing over the railing, she peered down onto the level below. Nothing. Her feet shuffled against the rotted hardwood as she pushed back toward the apartment.
A hand clamped down over her mouth.
Another snaked its way around her waist to relieve her of her only defense.
“Don’t scream,” Taigen whispered into her ear, pulling her back into his chest. “There are two of them on the first floor.”
His breath tickled her ears as she strained for some sign of movement. Did he hear them? She tried to nod her understanding through his grip, but his hold on her was almost suffocating. How did he know that?
“Come on.” Freeing her, he leaned over the banister as she had done, surveying. “Let’s go.”
Torrhent didn’t understand how they’d found her, but she didn’t have time to wonder. Taigen gripped her arm and dragged her after him down the stairs. His hand felt warm through her flannel shirt, strong.
They took the stairs down two at a time, but suddenly he pushed her back. His elbow stabbed into her stomach. She tried to stop, to keep herself from falling, but it was too late. Torrhent lost her balance and landed on her back.
From her position on the stairs she saw them through the banister.
Two men. Armed.
But they hadn’t noticed her.
In that moment, Torrhent realized what he’d planned all along. We’ll never make it through. She knew what they wanted and, unless the man who’d broken her out of jail had superpowers, they’d get it.
* * *
“Can you get me out of here?”
“Yeah, but it’s not going to be pretty.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She kept her voice low, but it still sent tremors through his bloodstream and made his heart beat double-time. His training told him to slow his breathing, but she counteracted every logical thought in his mind with just a few words.
“This place is about to blow.” Taigen bit his bottom lip as he pulled her in tighter. Her wide-eyed fear made his chest spasm. He’d been involved in dozens of missions where he needed to get out fast and clean, but having Torrhent by his side made it all the more difficult. No longer responsible for just his own life, he calculated their chances. And they weren’t good. “When I tell you to, run as hard as you can.”
“What are you going to do?”
He tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I’ll figure it out.” Taigen took a step down, but Torrhent’s fingers clamped down on his shirt, holding him back. Her expression told him exactly how much she doubted him. “I promised I’d protect you, remember? And I don’t take it lightly.” He gave her arm one last squeeze. “Just get outside.”
Her eyes shifted toward the exit and she nodded curtly.
“Look at me,” he said, cradling her jaw in one hand to keep her focus. “Don’t worry about them. Just take a deep breath.”
She did.
“Good.” Taigen dropped his hand, slowly reaching for the gun stuffed down the back of his jeans. “Now run.”
He caught a glimpse of her shirt trailing after her as his mind shifted into the empty place he longed to forget. His body relaxed, automatically turning as the Russian gunmen went after Torrhent.
His heartbeat steadied. His breathing slowed. The distraction she’d caused gave him just enough time to easily take them from behind. He wrapped a forearm around one neck then pulled the other to the ground just as a hand reached out for Torrhent.
Taigen saw her turn before she pushed her way out the door, her eyes wide in disbelief. She disappeared, releasing him from her invisible hold as his past caught up with him. His movements felt choreographed, familiar. The man in his arms slumped to the floor with a broken neck, while the other stayed in place at the end of his gun. The effects of his actions would take a physica
l toll on him in anywhere from a few seconds to an hour. God only knew when the disgust with himself would catch up. It varied every time. “How many more of you are there?”
“Go to hell,” the man growled.
His fist slammed into Taigen’s face. It pushed the adrenaline running through his veins even harder, numbing the pain. He hadn’t expected it, but smiled. “Thanks. I haven’t hit anybody in a long time.”
A blast ruptured the ceiling above him. Debris shredded the thin walls, almost engulfing his escape. Fingers of fire tried their best to lick at his skin. His ears rang, his vision blurred, and a headache built behind his eyes.
It was too much.
He couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him. The smoke and debris made it impossible to determine where the exit had been. He’d lost his sense of direction. A set of small hands wrapped around his forearm, pulling him to the right.
“Come on!”
Taigen recognized her voice but couldn’t see a damned thing. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice hoarse with smoke. “Torrhent?”
She let go.
“Torrhent!”
The warm Los Angeles air burned its way down his lungs as he stepped outside. It was a welcome reprieve from the smoke he’d inhaled inside, but his stomach had already begun to betray him. Bile coated his throat and he wretched. It happened every time he took a life, and he had only seconds before he collapsed completely. Five. Four. Three. Two . . .
“Taigen,” Torrhent called. Her voice, clear as day, forced him to concentrate. It worked its way deep into his bones and pushed his inhibitions aside.
His breathing evened out, clearing the fog surrounding his thoughts. His vision returned slowly and the nausea disappeared. Signs of the episode ending soon became apparent. The symptoms had never vanished so quickly, and it seemed almost as if something had changed.
“I’m fine.” Taigen wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened. When his gaze connected with hers, however, every muscle in his body tensed.
The gun aimed at Torrhent’s head was not the one the shooter had gone in with.
It was his.
“Face down,” the Russian barked. “I kill her if you move.”
“No problem.” His eyes connected with Torrhent’s. With the Russian’s eyes on him, he couldn’t mouth what he wanted to say. He scrunched his face up to convey his intention and Taigen hoped his message came across clearly, but as a civilian she knew nothing of his life.
To his surprise, Torrhent nodded in understanding. Taigen moved slowly, following directions to ensure her safety. He dropped to his knees and kept his gaze on the hit man. “Would you like my hands behind my back or my head?”
Passersby gathered as the shooter backed down the sidewalk, parting when he came too close. The sight of the gun pushing its way into Torrhent’s side made Taigen want to die. He wanted to offer himself as tribute but knew they hadn’t come for him. He intended to change that. Connecting his gaze with Torrhent’s, he nodded to her once.
Without hesitation, her head slammed back into the shooter’s face. She wrenched herself from his grasp as Taigen shot upright and flew forward. He tackled the shooter and the gun went off as they crashed to the ground. The flesh around the bullet lodged in his chest throbbed from the collision, taking the breath from his lungs.
They struggled for the upper hand, but soon the Russian slumped to the pavement as Taigen’s fist connected with the batch of nerves on the back of the attacker’s neck. Taigen exhaled in a rush, the sound of sirens too close for comfort. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he located Torrhent.
He hefted himself to his feet and approached her slowly. He registered the shaking in her hand as he pried her fingers from around her opposite arm. Her grip left bloody half moons in her tanned skin from her fingernails and a pang of regret chased through him. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
Torrhent’s gaze remained glued to the Russian. “Is he dead?”
“No. Just unconscious.” The sirens grew louder, but he needed her to decide their next move. He’d leave her if necessary, break her out of some other jail. Either way, Taigen needed her trust for his plan to work.
Her eyes found his, the gray depths hardening in an instant. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Torrhent stole a glance in Taigen’s direction from behind the wheel of the pickup. The truck hadn’t been hard to hot-wire once she’d forced the tremors in her hands to calm, but while she seemed fine on the outside, the fight between Taigen and the Russian hit man made her realize she’d gotten in over her head. With a single blow, the man beside her had incapacitated his attacker. Either he’d learned the move from previous experience or studied it. Neither possibility let Torrhent’s stomach settle for long.
She drove at the speed limit, her eyes darting toward the rearview mirror every few seconds to ensure they hadn’t been followed. Another stolen look made her break the tenuous silence between them. “You don’t look so good.”
Taigen’s face had gone pale and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow. “I’ll be fine.” His voice sounded strained, as if he’d been screaming at the top of his lungs. “Make a right up here.”
She did as she was told. The neighborhood was quiet, no children playing, no residents out in their yards, but she couldn’t shake her paranoia. “Where are we going?”
“Here.”
She stopped in front of a small colonial. The white siding looked new. The landscaping was clean and neat, the grass thick all the way around the house. A few shrubs lined the stone walkway, leading up to the white wraparound porch.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She looked to Taigen for a clue as to what they were doing here, uncertainty screaming loud in her mind. Clean neighborhood, picket fences, toys in the yards. People called places like this home.
A pang of longing lodged in her throat. She’d lost her home the second her sentence was imposed. Life without parole. The jury hadn’t even taken more than two hours to convict. The planted evidence had done all the talking despite her claims of a setup. Her life had been taken from her, and all because of her stepfather’s hunger for power.
Taigen leaned sideways in the seat, giving her full access to the hint of cinnamon from his skin and bringing her back to the present. He killed the engine and palmed the keys. Torrhent shuddered in response to his close proximity. “You don’t seem like the suburban type.”
Her voice wavered on the last word, revealing her fear. She’d known from the beginning she’d need someone of his skill set to have her revenge on Isaac Rutler, but she never intended to witness those skills firsthand. Her instincts told her the fight with the Russian was only the beginning. Isaac would send more men to find her. Torrhent hoped her choice in men in this instance would be enough.
Her gaze surveyed the neighborhood for a second time. “Why are we here?” she asked, licking dry lips.
“This guy can help us.” Taigen pushed himself out of the truck, nearly stumbling.
Torrhent slammed the pickup door behind her and circled the hood. She eyed him carefully, studying his faltering footsteps as he made his way up the driveway. Perhaps if she showed some consideration, he’d warm up just enough to start taking orders. She reached for him in an attempt to help.
Taigen pushed her off instantly, the heat of his touch almost too much to handle. “I don’t need your help. It’ll wear off soon.”
“What will?” she asked.
He ignored her.
Torrhent forced herself to take two deep breaths and listened to her surroundings. The wind was soft, the evening warm. Nothing to fear as far as she could tell, but that didn’t shake her anxiety. She turned her attention toward the house ahead. Front door. Huge front window. Fence surrounding the backyard, which meant a back door of some type. Three separate exits just on the front of the house. Not bad in case she needed a quick escape, but the mere fact Taigen planned on drawing more people into her proble
ms set her on edge, which in turn would most likely get her killed. “This is a bad idea.”
Taigen knocked on the dark red door, shifting his balance between his feet, as if he ached to run as much as she did. A quick glance over his shoulder toward her said he was just as paranoid, too. Not a good sign.
“Whose house is this?”
The front porch light flickered on and the door swung open.
“Nah-uh,” the house’s owner said, shaking his head. “No way, Taigen. This is not what I had in mind when I offered my help. You can’t be here!” The man’s voice dropped to a whisper, but the words were meant for anything but. He ran his hands over a shorn head, resembling Taigen’s in that respect, but his build was stocky where Taigen was lean, and no more than six feet.
“I just burned my safe house to the ground.” Taigen pushed his way inside with Torrhent following apprehensively. “Your house is the last place they’d look.”
“Do you know how much trouble I could get in with a fugitive in my house?” He looked in her direction. “Two fugitives!”
“You know me?” Her question made him laugh.
“Come on, honey. Your face is all over the news.” The duh expression on his face made her flush in embarrassment. Of course he knew her. According to the news, she’d been placed on America’s Most Wanted List.
The way he narrowed his eyes at her reminded Torrhent of the two NYPD officers who’d arrested her, assessing her every move with calculated awareness. Maybe he knew her not from the news but because a report with her photo had come across his desk. A chill ran down her spine. She tried to shake it off, assigning the sensation to her continuous paranoia. Consistently looking over her shoulder and examining every contact and expression exhausted her. The sooner the whole situation ended, the better.
She let her eyes roam over the interior of the house as a distraction and felt as if she was back home with the Egyptian cotton, the silk curtains, and the handmade lace. A woman had obviously decorated, but nothing within sight gave Torrhent the impression of one living here. No photos. No grease stains on the driveway showing evidence of a second car. It was close to six in the evening, yet aromas from dinner didn’t exist, nor did signs of previous occupancy. Everything seemed in place, perfect.
Die for Me Page 8
