Chapter 11 - Maksim
Nothing quite prepares you for the moment you realize the woman you’re growing more and more attached to by the second has vanished into the night like smoke.
I stare at the empty bed on my security monitor, cursing myself for abiding by her wishes and giving her space.
The covers are thrown back, and her belongings are scattered across the floor, along with her cell phone, which means I can’t track her.
The timestamp shows she left three hours ago, which means she could be anywhere in the city by now.
My imagination runs wild as I cycle through the other cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair somewhere on the property.
Nothing.
“Fuck,” I spit out before I grab my jacket and keys. Deep down, I know she’s probably safer away from me, away from the violence that seems to follow my family like a curse. But with that asshole ex lurking around, I will tear the city apart until I find her.
The streets are mostly empty at this hour, which makes finding her fairly easy even without technology.
My contacts have eyes everywhere, and it doesn’t take long to get a lead.
A cab driver picked up a young woman matching her description near the bank twenty minutes ago. Destination: the bus station.
Of course she’s trying to leave the city. I can’t blame her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her.
I find her at the Greyhound terminal, sitting on a plastic bench with a small duffel bag clutched in her lap.
“Going somewhere?” I ask before I take a seat on the bench beside her.
She doesn’t look surprised to see me, which tells me she was expecting this. Her knuckles go white where she squeezes the duffel bag handle. “Away from here. Away from you.”
“That’s not going to solve anything.”
“It’ll solve everything.” She turns to face me, and what I see on her face makes my heart sink—like she’s positively indifferent to me.
I’d rather see hate in those eyes than indifference.
“I can’t stay in your world, Maksim, in the same way I couldn’t stay with Troy when I found out he was involved in sketchy business.
I won’t become another casualty of whatever war you’re fighting. ”
My throat constricts at the word ‘casualty,’ as if she’s already dead in her own mind. “Nothing will happen to you. You’re under my protection.”
“Protection?” She lets out a bitter laugh that scrapes against my nerves like broken glass. “I’ve been in your house for less than a week, and I’ve already witnessed torture. What’s next? Murder? Bodies in the garden? Finding a finger or two in the pool on my next swim?”
“There are no bodies in the garden.”
“That you know of.” She arches one eyebrow, challenging me to deny that it’s possible.
As much as I hate to admit it, there’s some truth to it. Hell, bodies did just end up in my shipping containers. Ravenshollow has seen its share of violence over the years, and though I’ve tried to keep the worst of it away from the main house, I can’t guarantee it will remain unscathed forever.
“Where will you go?” I ask, changing tactics.
Her shoulders lift in a careless shrug that doesn’t match the fear I can see lurking in her posture. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“Why? You barely know me.” She studies my face like she’s searching for lies with her head tilted at that stubborn angle I’m beginning to recognize.
“I know enough.”
She stands abruptly, clutching her bag tighter against her chest like armor. “This was a mistake. All of it. I should never have let you take me home that night, and I never should have stayed when every instinct told me to run.”
The regret in her voice makes something dark twist in my stomach, and I have to swallow it down before I can respond. “No, your instincts were right the first time. That’s why you stayed with me. You need my protection, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“I need to be as far away from dangerous men as possible. That includes you as well as Troy.”
Heat erupts in my chest at being lumped in with that bastard. “I’m not like Troy.”
She sputters her lips and asks, “Aren’t you? You both solve problems with violence. You both lie to get what you want. You both think you know what’s best for me without asking my opinion.”
Each word lands like a punch to the gut. I drag a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words to make her understand. “When have I ever—”
“You decided to keep your real identity from me. You decided I needed protection without consulting me first. You decided to bring me to your house, to involve me in your world, to make me complicit in whatever crimes you commit.” She counts off on her fingers as she makes each point, and I wince with every finger.
“You’re not complicit in anything.”
“Tell that to the man bleeding in your wine cellar.”
Jordan Portelli deserved everything he got and worse, but Alyssa doesn’t understand that world yet. Maybe she never will.
I lean forward and try to bridge the gap between us with honesty.
“He was trying to start a war between my family and two other organizations. He planted bodies in my shipping containers to frame us for murders we didn’t commit at the order of Troy’s boss.
Men like that don’t respond to polite conversation. ”
“Men like what?” She crosses her arms over her chest, creating another barrier. “Men like you?”
“It was stupid of me to think, even for one section, that I wasn’t like every other woman you’ve slept with and discarded.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper, but the words cut through me like shards of glass. “Maybe I’m just another transaction in your world of violence and corruption.”
“That’s not—”
“My bus leaves in ten minutes,” she interrupts as she makes a show of checking the departure board. “Go home, Maksim. Find someone else to save.”
She starts walking toward the boarding area, and every step she takes feels like a knife twisting in my chest. I should let her go. I should walk away and let her disappear into whatever new life she’s planning. It would be safer for both of us.
Instead, I follow her as my feet move of their own accord.
“Alyssa, wait.” My voice comes out strangled with desperation.
“Stop following me.” She doesn’t turn around, but her pace picks up.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” She spins to face me, and tears are threatening to spill from her eyes.
“Because I—”
The crack of gunfire cuts through the terminal like thunder, and instinct takes over before my brain can process what’s happening.
I tackle Alyssa to the ground, covering her body with mine as bullets tear through the space where we were standing seconds before.
She shrieks underneath me, and her body goes rigid with shock.
“Stay down,” I bark as I draw my own weapon from the holster beneath my jacket.
Three men in dark clothing are advancing through the terminal, weapons raised and focused on our position. Civilians scream and scatter, diving behind benches and vending machines as chaos erupts around us.
“This way,” I tell Alyssa before I grab her hand and haul her to her feet as I pull her toward the nearest exit.
We run in a crouch, using the rows of seating as cover while bullets whine overhead. My mind locates threats and escape routes on autopilot as we move. Two more gunmen block the main entrance, but there’s a service corridor near the restrooms that should lead to the loading dock.
“Who are they?” Alyssa asks between ragged breaths as we sprint down a narrow hallway lined with utility pipes.
“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”
The service door leads to an alley behind the terminal, but my car is parked three blocks away in the opposite direction. I can hear shouts and footsteps echoing from inside the building, which means our pursuers are closing in fast.
“Can you run?”
She lifts her chin and scoffs. “Do I have a choice?”
“No,” I respond honestly.
We run through the maze of downtown streets, staying in the shadows and avoiding main thoroughfares where we might be spotted. My phone comes alive with incoming calls, but I don’t dare stop to answer. Every second counts when you’re being hunted.
“There,” I point to a sleek hotel rising thirty stories into the night sky. “The Suntower. My family has arrangements with the management.”
“What kind of arrangements?” She follows my line of sight and squints up at the building.
“We keep a suite on retainer, and they don’t ask questions.”
The lobby is all marble and crystal, the sort of place where politicians and celebrities conduct their secret meetings. I stride to the front desk, keeping Alyssa close behind me.
“I need a key for the presidential suite,” I tell the clerk as I slide a black card across the marble counter. Key cards automatically deactivate after checkout for security reasons, but one is required to be exchanged for a new one, per our arrangement. “Executive access.”
The young man’s eyes go wide when he sees the card, but he doesn’t ask for identification or a credit card. Instead, he produces a key card from beneath the counter and hands it over, saying, “I’ll make sure you remain undisturbed.”
The suite looks exactly as I remember it from my last visit six months ago. Massive windows showcase the city below us, and the familiar Italian leather furniture and museum-quality artwork create the kind of atmosphere where million-dollar deals get made over single-malt whiskey.
“Nice arrangements,” Alyssa comments as she takes in the opulent surroundings. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised you’d have something this nice as your backup, at this point.”
She makes her way to the windows and stares out at the city with her arms wrapped around herself. The distance between us feels like miles instead of feet, and when I look closely, I can see her entire body quivering.
I want to comfort her, to reach out and hold her, to tell her everything will be all right. But I have to find out what the hell just happened first. Whoever thought it was a good idea to attack my kitten like that has hell coming their way.
I pull out my phone and dial Akim’s number, and he answers on the first ring.
“Where the hell are you?” he demands. “Security reported gunfire at the Greyhound terminal, and we were told you were at the station when it started.”
“I’m fine. Someone tried to kill me. Multiple shooters in a coordinated attack. They knew exactly where to find us.”
“Us?”
I glance at Alyssa, who’s pretending not to listen to every word. “I’ll explain later. Right now, I need you to keep the hostage secure and make sure everyone in the family is safe until we know how many hostiles we’re dealing with.”
“What about backup? I can have a team at your location in twenty minutes.”
“No. Too risky until we know the scope of the threat.”
“You can’t handle this alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“The girl isn’t trained for combat, Maksim. She’s a liability.”
The words make my blood boil. “She’s under my protection.”
“And you’re under ours. Where are you?”
I give him the hotel information along with instructions to maintain radio silence unless it’s an emergency. The fewer people who know our location, the better our chances of surviving the night.
“Akim wants to send reinforcements,” I tell Alyssa after ending the call.
She turns away from the window with her arms crossed over her chest. “But you said no. Why?”
“Because I don’t know how many people are hunting us, and I won’t risk more lives until I have better intelligence.”
“You promised me honesty.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Who were those men? How did they find us? Why did they want to kill you?” She throws her hands in the air and huffs. “Tell me the truth, Maksim. And no omissions this time.”
“I don’t know for sure,” I admit. “But I suspect they’re connected to the Serpents. Your ex-boyfriend’s organization.”
Her face goes pale, and she sinks into the nearest chair like her legs won’t support her anymore. “Troy sent people to kill us?”
“Troy or his boss, Vincent Moreau. The man we interrogated tonight confirmed that Moreau’s been targeting my family, trying to eliminate us as competition.”
“But why at the bus station? Why not at your house?”
“The house is much too secure. They knew you left Ravenshollow, and they saw an opportunity to get to me when I was away from my security team.”
I see the exact moment she understands what this means, and her hands clench into fists in her lap. “This was my fault. And if you hadn’t come after me…” She trails off, unable to finish the thought.
“They would have killed you. Witnesses are liabilities in this business.”
She sinks deeper into the leather armchair, and her hands start to tremble as the adrenaline begins to wear off. The reality of how close we came to dying is starting to hit her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and the broken sound of it makes all the rage leave my body in an instant.
“For what?”
“For running. For putting you in danger. For being naive enough to think I could just walk away from this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“If I hadn’t left your house—”
“They would have found another way. This isn’t your fault, Alyssa.”
She sniffs and asks, “Then whose fault is it?”
“Mine. For not ending this threat when I had the chance.”
She looks up at me then, and I can see the fear she’s been trying to hide breaking through her defenses. Her green eyes are wide and haunted, and her whole body trembles with the aftershock of violence.
“What happens now?”
“Now we wait. Let my men gather intelligence, figure out how many people we’re dealing with. Then we end this.”
“How?”
“However, we have to.”
The answer doesn’t seem to comfort her, but it’s the only honest response I can give. The Serpents made this personal when they used her as bait to get to me. That’s a line you don’t cross in this business, not if you want to keep breathing.