All of a sudden, cold steel links around my wrist. I snap my eyes open and connect with his icy, wolf-like ones. The heat from his skin touches mine as our wrists are bound together. He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. What can I say? He doesn’t have trust in anyone, so why should I be any different? Besides, I’m too tired to care, and from the look on his face, so is he.
As I drift off, I think about the wavering reliance we have on each other. What is it, anyway … trust? It’s a five letter word. It’s a word that holds an exorbitant amount of weight in our future. It’s something that needs to be earned and established.
Trust. Could I learn to have faith in it? To have faith in him?
As I close my eyes, his crystal blue ones are all I see. The last thought passing through my mind is that five letter word. Do I have the ability to do so? Can I overcome everything I have ever learned about him and trust him to keep me alive? Can I trust myself enough to allow it to grow between us sufficiently enough for the purpose of our plan? Trust. Do I have it? Because it’s obvious by the handcuffs cutting into my flesh that he doesn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nikolai
August 11, 2015 6:35 a.m.
Her eyes finally shut as her chest rises up and down with deep inhales of air. Our hands are linked together, and my fingers itch to wrap around hers. I want to hold her close to me and feel her heat pressed against my body. However, her wall made of pillows prevents our bodies from getting any closer, which I suppose is for the best.
There’s no hiding it; Josslyn is attracted to me. Every time I get near her, she acts like my presence doesn’t bother her, but I know differently. I can read her inner thoughts. I feel her physical attraction but I also feel her repulsion. The idea of it bothers me, and I don’t understand why. I have never cared about what women think of me, only using them for the physical release, but with her, I want more. I want to have her approval.
Maybe I miss what I had with Anna. She was a friend, I guess, but she never saw the true monster I’m until the day I killed her. Her death really holds no weight in my heart, so maybe she wasn’t the friend like I assumed for all these years. She was just a body to keep me warm.
Josslyn is altogether different. I know what I’m doing with her is crazy, and we probably won’t make it out alive, but there’s this growing feeling that tells me I owe this to her. If anyone deserves to watch Stravinsky die beside me, it’s Josslyn.
Her hand completely relaxes. She’s asleep. I finally shut my eyes and place her palm in mine. It’s soft and warm. In fact, it’s the warmth that finally overpowers me, and I drift off into nothingness.
.*.*.*.
August 11, 2015 9:47 a.m.
Thud.
My eyes snap open. The blood rushes through my body as I jolt up in bed. I can feel the adrenaline skyrocket as I gather my scattered wits. I look over at Josslyn who is still lapsed in a deep sleep.
Reaching over to the nightstand, I unhook the cuffs and free myself right when another thud sounds just outside the door. I bolt from bed and locate my briefcase sitting on the table, unlatched and ready. I pull out my gun and slowly walk to the door. There isn’t a peephole in this shitty place, so I don’t know who is on the other side.
I wait.
Closing my eyes, I rely heavily on my hearing, listening to anything that will alert me to kill. The thud sound hasn’t repeated. The only thing I can hear is the whip of the wind passing through the door.
Several seconds go by before I decide to unlatch the locks and look outside. The steel deadbolt clicks and next the chain lock. I twist the knob and slowly pull the door open. My body is tight, ready for anything.
Before opening the door all the way, I look over at Josslyn. She’s still out, completely clueless to the situation.
I release a breath and poke my head around the door, looking outside. There’s nothing. The parking lot is empty, void of cars and people, and the sound of the wind is all I hear. I release another breath then slowly close the door.
I carry the years spent in prison with me everywhere I go. Every sound, smell, and taste follows me around like a haunted spirit. I don’t know if I will ever shake the anxiousness of living in hell for so long.
I walk to my bag, deciding it’s time to get dressed and get moving to San Francisco. I quickly dress in my black suit, white shirt, and black tie. I get all my belongings gathered and ready. There are phone calls and arrangements to be made before making the next move in our plan.
Last time I talked with Manny, I asked him to look into where I could begin my search in San Francisco. I hope he has some information, because we will be reaching the city before the sun goes down.
I quietly walk from the hotel room and out to the car. In the privacy of my machine, I start making the first of three phone calls.
“Manny,” I curtly say as he answers the phone. “What did you find out?”
“The man you killed is associated with Stravinsky. He’s the right hand man for Ivankov.” Manny sighs deeply just as my blood surges through my body. “Ivankov runs the West Coast operation out of a restaurant in the Nob Hill area. Aside from Boris, he’s Stravinsky’s number two.”
“Just to confirm; you are talking about Vlad Ivankov, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Manny. I will keep in touch. You won’t be rid of me until this is done. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Black.”
I click the phone off and sit dumbfounded in my seat. The third man the night Josslyn’s father was murdered and the other man who raped her is the next person we are going to see. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.
I was too wrapped up in my revenge on Stravinsky to even consider finding and killing Vlad. But now he’s a leader amongst the organization and closer to Stravinsky himself. He’ll be of great use to me, providing the whereabouts of my former mentor. And what’s better, Josslyn will be more obligated to follow through with the plan if she knows she’ll be face-to-face with the man who stabbed her mother, raped her, and watched her father die.
.*.*.*.
August 11, 2015 10:43 a.m.
I spend the next hour making my other phone calls. Aya, of course, was the second, and I swallowed hard when I transferred over five million dollars into her account. Luckily for me, Aya had already begun work on erasing my identity on the police servers and hard drives. As we spoke, her facial recognition software was doing the same on the other recording devices I may have come in contact with. Again, I don’t know how she does it, but she is an evil genius or a mad scientist who’s got the world by the balls. Every time I speak with her, I’m glad to be on her good side.
I also made arrangements for Arthur Matthews by putting him in contact with a relocation specialist who works closely with the criminal underworld. The specialist will fly Arthur’s family to Germany. They will be steps away from the best doctors in the world. I always pay my debts. In this case, I will never know if I will ever be in need of his services ever again.
The last call to Maxwell Beatty took the longest. I’m not sure how long we will be on the run together, but until the day we separate, Josslyn will need a new identity. I provided all the information she needs to be someone else. Maxwell mirrored everything related to my Vincent Black identity, with the exception of her name. I remember the name she provided to the clerk and decided, if she chose it, then it would be easier for her to assume the full identity. By the time we arrive in San Francisco, Maxwell will have the documents waiting for us.
She’ll have an Amex credit card, passport, license, birth certificate, and social security card. If she wanted to, Josslyn could completely disappear. The smallest part of me is excited at the thought, but I shut down the random thought almost as soon as it comes.
I look down at the clock and realize only a couple of hours have passed from the time I fell asleep. A couple hours will not do, but I don’t think I can lie next to her in bed. My body is all about t
esting the limits of not indulging myself with the pleasures of a woman until I finish off Stravinsky. Regardless, eight years of abstinence will take a toll on a man’s sexual appetite, and around a woman like Josslyn, the task is nearly impossible.
I lock myself in my car, the tinted windows providing cover from onlookers, and recline the seat back. I will get another couple hours of sleep before we make the long, ten-hour trip to San Francisco.
As I begin to drift off, all I can see is Stravinsky. I’m closer than I have ever been to capturing him. My palm twitches when the last sight I see before I fall into a deep slumber is the sight of blood pouring from the throat of my teacher and dripping from my Bowie knife.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Josslyn
August 11, 2015 12:03 p.m.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Miss Knight?” A man’s voice jars me from the deepest sleep I have had in years.
Confused, I look around, trying to grasp reality. My blood is pumping rapidly as the knock sounds again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Miss Knight, I need you to fill out this card, please,” the clerk, Gary, says from the other side of the door.
I look down and dangling from my wrist are the handcuffs. Nikolai is gone. I hop out of bed and pull a pair of jeans from my bag. After pulling them on, I walk to the bathroom in search of Nikolai. My body is groggy and my head is swimming with confusion.
I snap the light on, finding it empty. Where the hell did he go? I move back to the main room and find his stuff is gone. It’s like he was never here. The only thing that remains is the smell of his cologne on the sheets.
Why would he just leave me here? Was he simply using me to get out of the state, and now he is off to do the job on his own?
My anger surges. He’s been playing me all along. He doesn’t know anything about my father’s murder or the men who committed it. He’s been manipulating me this entire time, which explains why he refused to tell me about the plan. There is no plan that includes me. San Francisco is probably a false lead.
That motherfucker!
I have to give it to him, though, he’s done his research on finding out what happened to my family. However, what he ceases to realize is who I’m today. I’m a dog with a bone, and I will never let him get away with this. I will search for the rest of my life to take him down and bring him in for the crimes he committed in Blythe Harbor.
My father’s murderer might be a ghost, but Nikolai isn’t. I know his real name. And I will use it to haul his ass in. He’ll wish he took me with him, because what’s coming to him is much, much worse. Shit, I can even arrange for him to be welcomed into prison by a big, bald man who loves to initiate new inmates on death row. I will make it happen ten times over.
The clerk knocks again, only a little louder and a little more insistent this time. Before I have time to react, the key sounds in the lock, and I snap back into the present. I race to the door, needing to get there before the clerk comes in. I stumble over the fallen blankets yet manage to unlock the door before he does.
“Hello,” my voice is breathy when I pull the door open and see the creepy clerk standing on the other side.
He’s wearing the same clothes from when I checked in, but he is now covered in the unpleasant aroma of stale booze. The faded plaid shirt looks like it has seen better days, but it matches well with his ragged jeans. I wonder for a moment why people would even give this guy their business. Then it dawns on me; this is where criminals hide. They don’t give a shit what he’s wearing or what he looks like as long as he turns the other way.
“Sorry to bother you, Miss Knight, but I didn’t have you fill out the check-in card. We need it on file to register all our guests.” His voice is slightly pitched and fueled with an ulterior motive.
I clasp the door firmly, not allowing it to open farther.
“Sorry about that. Can I stop by the office when I wake up? I’m awfully tired and need to go back to sleep.” My body tenses suddenly, on point, ready to react.
I could just clock him in the face and call it a day. However, I have to get back to Blythe Harbor, and getting arrested for assault will not help. Nevertheless, I need to get rid of this joker in a non-violent way.
“I’m afraid I must insist,” he says as he tries to muscle his way through the door.
My body poses into my firm fighter’s stance as I try to close the door. I anchor my feet, using my legs as the leverage I need to push the door closed, but the clerk has more weight, and it doesn’t take long for him to overpower me.
He pushes his way into the room and kicks the door shut. I stand at the foot of the bed. The alarms that were going off when I first laid eyes on him are now engulfed by my adrenaline-fueled system.
I hold up my fists, ready to punch him in the gut then kick him between the legs, sending his nut sack into his throat.
“I’ll give you one warning, asshole: get the fuck out of my room, or you’ll be sorry.” My voice is cold, my body tight. I’m channeling all my rage from Nikolai’s betrayal and the past fifteen years of my life into my balled fist. I will destroy him. He needs to know that.
Gary the creep has another plan.
“Or what, Amelia, huh? You going to punch me?”
The clerk charges at me, but I’m ready for him. I swing my left fist and connect it to his cheek. My knuckles pop, and the pain stirs, but the intensity of the moment washes it away.
Gary is stunned but doesn’t’ go down. He’s ignited in a fiery rage as he charges me again; only, this time, he’s able to tackle me. My body flies backward fast, and I fall underneath him onto the bed. The blackness starts to invade. The weight of his body pins me to the mattress, and I want to disappear. I don’t want to feel the pain associated with the violation that’s about to happen.
My survival mode kicks in, and I start to fade away. My mind checks out, and I disappear into a black abyss. I can feel myself drifting.
His face gets closer as my wrists bear the weight of his upper body. I’m trapped. There’s nowhere for me to go.
Before I realize it, Gary flips my body over. My senses are stunned. I’m face-to-face with the pillows, suffocating. The pressure on my head is immense. My air is diminishing. This man doesn’t want to violate me; he wants to kill me.
The fireworks behind my eyes are attempting to keep me coherent enough to get out of this situation, but the abyss is too strong.
My lungs burn, but I inhale as deeply as I can. The only thing that registers in my foggy brain is his musky, manly scent. It’s him—Nikolai. I suck in as much of it as I can, using it as my fuel to propel myself from this hell, allowing it to slice into my hazy brain and find its way to my fighting strength.
I quickly assess where Gary’s hands are on me and where I can get a limb loose enough to jar him. He has most of his weight on my upper body, rendering me immobile, but not my legs.
I buck my ass up hard, breaking his lower body from me. Gary is jolted, his midsection and legs flying to the side. I use his stunned reaction to my advantage and roll my body to the side then up on him. As I twist my hands free, I straddle the clerk. He’s in shock, his face baffled and worried.
I can feel the unearthed power surging through my veins. It’s different. It didn’t come from the severity of my situation or a freak reaction. It’s not something I have ever experienced.
I ball up all the hate, misery, revulsion, and horror that have been tightly capped inside my body and allow them to explode. Instead of swallowing down the emotions, I feel them, embrace them.
As I look down at my conquered victim, I feel this transformation erase all my weakness. The clarity is poignant. I will never suffer in the blackness again. Now that the bottle erupted, I will forever be in control. Assholes like the man underneath me won’t stand a chance in hell now.
I won’t say it was Nikolai who saved me from my potential doom. I will never give him that satisfaction. Recognizing the scent only triggered my hatred
for him. It’s now feeding the monster within.
Gary wiggles underneath me, snapping me out of my angry trance. I look down at his body and feel alive as I hold his life in my hands. The corner of my mouth tips up, still riding the high of my newfound power. He looks worried at my crazed expression, which makes me smile bigger.
I lean down and capture him with my wicked gaze. I say nothing as I wrench my knee back and bring it forward, but the clerk reacts before I connect it with his groin. My body goes flying off his and slams into the dresser located at the foot of the bed. My frame bounces off the wood, and I fall with a hard thump to the carpeted floor. Pain shoots up my spine. I recoil when Gary’s foot collides with my fragile midsection.
The hinges on the door creak, and the familiar presence of a killer cloaks the air. I don’t need to see Nikolai to sense he’s standing a few feet away from me. I’m baffled for a moment, certain he had abandoned me after he manipulated me into helping him get out of Blythe Harbor. Yet here he stands.
I tilt my head up and see the killer I first approached days ago. The black, tailored suit covers his body perfectly. His tattooed hands are covered in black leather gloves, and extended in his hand is a pistol with a silencer. But, it’s not the gun that frightens Gary. It’s his glare—the menacing, killer mask Nikolai dons just before he takes your life.
Nikolai crosses the threshold, coming inside the room and shutting the door. His face is hard, his glare even harder.
I put my feet and palms to the floor, slowly moving to a standing position. Then I wrap my arms around my midsection to ease the throbbing.
Gary unknowingly melted to the floor after he retracted his foot from my stomach. He is sitting on his knees, ready to beg for his life, the only option he has left when confronted by an assassin as deadly as Nikolai.
Away with You (The Revenge Series Book 2) Page 15
