Chapter Four #2
“Don’t make me drag your dead body out of there,” Katia says with a dismissive wave. “I don’t want to get blood on the leather seats.”
I shove the door open and glance down both sides of the empty street. “I’ll try not to bleed out.”
“Just don’t do it in the car,” Katia fires back before looking away from me.
She’s scanning the area for threats, and although I know it’s irrational and ridiculous to be grateful to her, I’m still glad she’s around.
Asking Katia to teach me to shoot is out of the question when she’d probably be happy to watch me shoot myself.
Anything to keep her hands clean and get you out of the way. You need to keep a close eye on her.
I force myself to place one foot in front of the other until I’m standing outside the small gate at the front lawn.
The lock gives way with a rickety sound as I push it open and keep moving.
Suddenly, I see myself taking the same path on my way home from school, pigtails brushing my shoulders.
Then, I see myself on my first trip home from college, huffing and panting as I drag a laundry bag behind me.
At the top of the stairs, I pause and inhale.
It feels like another lifetime.
I’m still lost in the memory of how it felt to come home anytime when the door swings open, revealing my father with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
The blood drains from his face when he sees me, and his mouth falls open.
His mouth moves a few times, a muscle working in his jaw, but no sound comes out.
After what feels like forever, he lowers the book he’s holding.
“It’s good to see you, Dad.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I tried calling you, but you weren’t picking up.”
He stares at me a moment longer before looking past me. “Your bodyguard looks like she’d rather be sharpening her knives.”
“That’s pretty accurate except for the part where she’s my bodyguard. She’s more like… never mind.”
I don’t know how to explain Katia.
He gives me another indecipherable look. “We were told you were safe, but you shouldn’t be here.”
I ignore the twinge in my chest and move toward him. “Told by whom? You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days. We shouldn’t talk outside. Can we go inside?”
Wordlessly, he spins and hurries inside.
I follow him, pausing to secure the lock in place. In the study, bright afternoon light is pouring in, jazz music is playing through the laptop, and books are in piles scattered all over the floor. He reaches for a towel draped over the back of his brown leather armchair and wipes his face.
I finish scanning the room. “I know that things got ugly the last time we were here, and I don’t care what kind of deal you had to cut to save yourself and the house. I know it was because—”
“Deal?”
I take a deep breath. “I know you made a deal with the men who held you hostage. They told you to lure me here, and in exchange, they’d get you out of the deal with Mason. Right?”
His eyebrows knit together, but his face gives nothing else away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m not mad. I know you probably felt like it was the only thing to do. Maybe they told you they’d release me or something when they were done…”
“Release you? What the hell are you talking about?”
I pause. “You couldn’t have known how dangerous it was going to be, so even though I’m angry and hurt…it’s not why I’m here. Things are… different now. I’m doing my best to protect you, but it might take some time.”
He holds a hand up and frowns. “Hold on a second. I don’t know what you think you know, but I didn’t make any deal with those… monsters who broke in. Noah dropped by to check on me when they ambushed us. They told me to call you; that’s it.”
I stare at him for a long moment.
I want to believe he’s telling me the truth.
My father takes my hands in his. “Sweetheart, I know I was hard on you before…it was a lot to take in, but whatever you’re involved in and whoever you’re messed up with, we can figure it out together.
I’ve been looking into hiring us security, and I’ve got a friend in France who’s willing to host us for a few months. ”
I search his face. “What are you talking about?”
He squeezes my hand and drops his voice.
“It’s not safe here anymore. I can see that now.
I think the house is being watched, but it doesn’t matter.
Noah’s put me in touch with a security firm his dad recommends.
I’m sure they can take care of things while we get our affairs in order. You don’t need to do this anymore.”
One by one, I pry my fingers away, and my stomach clenches. “I can’t leave.”
“Whatever he has on you, he won’t be able to do anything about it when you’re on another continent.”
I open my mouth and snap it shut again. “He probably has allies everywhere, but that’s not the point. It’s not… it’s not about the deal I made anymore, Dad.”
His eyes tighten around the edges. “He’s got his hooks in you, doesn’t he? Noah told me about him. What does he have on you, London?”
I clear my throat. “He doesn’t have anything on me.”
He frowns. “I don’t know what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into, but we can figure this out.”
“I know you want to help me, but I don’t want you to,” I reply. “I’m telling you the truth. I know it’s hard to understand, and I’m sorry you got dragged into all this. I never wanted it to come to this.”
My father frowns and opens his mouth.
He’s interrupted by the sound of a loud bang, and I throw myself at him before I know what’s happening.
We crash against his mahogany desk, knocking a few things to the ground.
My heart is pounding as I cover his body with mine and squeeze my eyes shut.
When the door to the study bursts open, fear snakes its way up my back and settles around my chest.
The arms around my waist don’t slacken. “It’s me.”
I squirm against Katia’s hold, my heart still racing. “What are you doing? Let me go.”
She releases me abruptly, and I turn to my dad.
He’s scrambling to his feet, blood dripping from a gash on the side of his head.
There’s an acid taste in my mouth as I lead him to the armchair by the fireplace.
When I can’t find anything to use, I rip off a piece of my shirt and press the fabric against his head to staunch the bleeding.
The metallic smell of blood fills my nostrils.
“How long do we have before they get in here? Can you get us out the back?”
Katia is by the window, studying the world outside. “I already checked the perimeter. There’s nothing out there.”
I press the fabric harder against my dad’s wound, and he winces. “What do you mean there’s nothing out there?”
Katia lets the curtain slide back into place and whirls to face me. “Looks like it was an old car.”
I’m on my feet. “You want to bet our lives on that?”
Katia levels me with a look. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Barbie, so I’d watch my mouth if I were you. Since Mason doesn’t know we’re here, it would be unfortunate if you were to have an accident on the way back.”
I ignore the chill racing up my spine. “If you were going to do something, you would’ve done it already.”
Katia takes a menacing step in my direction. “Are you sure about that?”
My stomach lurches, but I steel myself. “We need to get my dad to a hospital. He needs to get checked out.”
“We need to get back to the estate in case it wasn’t a car,” Katia hisses, sparing him a quick look. “It’s just a scratch, and a hospital will attract too much attention.”
“I’m not leaving until I’m sure he’s safe.”
Katia throws her head back and spouts something in a language I don’t recognize. She lowers her head and looks at me. “He’s got ten minutes to pack, and then we’ll drop him off at the nearest friend’s house. If he’s not ready by then, I am dragging you back whether you like it or not.”
“We’ll be ready.”
Katia looks at my father and then back at me. “Clock’s ticking, Barbie.”
With one last glance at my father, she strides out of the room. For a long moment, I can’t breathe, and my mind is racing out of control. Upstairs, in the master bedroom, my father stands in the doorway, pressing the torn piece of cloth to the side of his head.
“What are you doing?”
I throw his suitcase onto the bed and move to the closet. Blindly, I throw clothes into it. “Didn’t you hear what Katia said? We have to get you out of here because it’s not safe.”
“It’s my house,” he replies. “I’m not going anywhere. Whoever is trying to come after me, I can handle it.”
“No, you can’t, Dad. I’m not saying this to be cruel, but you’re either walking out of here, or I’ll make Katia drag you out.”
His eyes bulge. “You wouldn’t.”
“I don’t think you want to test me.”
I don’t care if it humiliates him because at least he’ll be alive to hate me.
My father presses his mouth into a thin white line. “I don’t like the person you’re becoming.”
“I know, but I’m keeping us alive.”
I spend the next few minutes throwing a few more things into the suitcase. Finally, I drag the suitcase down the stairs. My father trudges down the stairs behind me, carrying an old box with him. Wordlessly, he brushes past me and toward the front door.
Katia is waiting for us on the porch.
She yanks the bag out of my hand, and I fish out my keys.
I cast one last look around the darkened house, years of memories playing out in my mind’s eye.
My chest is tight with emotion as I slam the door shut and turn the lock.
After giving it a firm tug, I hurry down the stairs and try not to sprint to the car.
In the rearview mirror, I sneak glances at my dad, who has his hands folded in his lap and a strained look on his face. Katia maneuvers the car with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on the dagger at her waist. Once we reach our destination, she swerves and turns into a dark alley.
I barely have time to hug my dad before she hauls him out.
I’m halfway out of the car when Katia emerges from the shadows and gets into the driver’s side. I wait until she’s far enough away before I take a deep breath. “You’re going to tell me that I should keep my distance for a while.”
Katia doesn’t look at me. “You already know you should, but you insisted on going anyway.”
“If I want you to help me see someone, a friend, will you help me do that?”
Katia shoots me a withering look. “What about this day has made you feel like I’m willing to do things for you? I’m supposed to protect you, not run errands and arrange secret meetings, Blondie.”
I curl my hands into fists. “Miss Deveroux can help make arrangements for my family. I’m not going to let them fend for themselves. She works at the club, so she’s got to be trustworthy, and she helped me when I first started working—”
Katia holds a hand up. “I don’t need the history. I know who she is.”
“So, you’ll help me?”
Katia grips the steering wheel tighter and swerves suddenly, knocking me back against the seat.
Before I can reply, she presses down on the gas, and the tires screech in response, the seatbelt digging painfully into my chest. I glance in my side mirror and see a few black unmarked SUVs gaining on us.
“It wasn’t an engine banging, was it?”
“Lucky for you, I don’t feel like dying this way,” Katia says in a low voice. “Hang on tight.”
She winds down an unpredictable path, but each time I think we've lost them, they appear on our tail until we’re on a bridge. Suddenly, they break off and drive on either side of us. Katia curses and presses down harder on the gas pedal, but it doesn’t help.
The two vehicles slam into us, and the impact sends shock waves through my system.
I can barely see past the spots dancing in my field of vision, and when they hit us again, I taste blood in my mouth.
Katia tries to muscle her way out, but the car skids out of control.
We’re pushed off the bridge and free-falling through the skies.
Fear slams into me as I squeeze my eyes shut and send up a quick prayer.
We crash against the water, and the breath is knocked out of me.
I fumble with my seatbelt, managing to wrench it off.
The assassin next to me is still wrestling with hers, panic etched onto her face.
Water rushes into the car from all sides.
I inhale a deep mouthful of air before my head submerges.
Darkness envelops me as my lungs grow tight, and my last thought is of Mason and the war he’s going to wage on my behalf.
I gasp and sputter as I kick for the surface, my eyes still burning.
With trembling fingers, I shove my hair from my eyes and spot a figure bobbing to the surface nearby.
My muscles ache as I swim toward Katia and place an arm around her shoulders.
I’m grunting and panting as I drag her to the shore.
We barely make it as my muscles give out, and I collapse next to her.
I hear sirens in the distance as I stare up at the dying evening light.
My lungs are on fire as I lay there, trying to muster up the energy to move, and vaguely aware of Katia dry-heaving next to me.
Please don’t let this be for nothing. I don’t want to die here. I have to get back to Mason.