13. Maxim
13
MAXIM
I marked each of the locals and estimated how many more might be hiding. Five crept toward the house, asking each other if they saw movement. Two more lingered in the back, assuming they were hidden within the trees and thick brush entwined with vines.
I saw them all, and the result was the same. Nadia and I were outnumbered in both people and weapons. I had two guns and one knife. She had… nothing.
“We’re going to go this way,” I mouthed to her, indicating that she should head toward the west wall.
She nodded, ever so slightly, and I was grateful she wasn’t a foolish woman prone to hysterics. And why would she be? She told me that she’d been on the run for years. According to her, she’d been running and trying her best to hide and evade Lev Avilov since she was fifteen. That was far too young for a girl to be so mature and need to strategize how to stay off the grid or lie low. But her skills and competence were a huge benefit now.
Sticking to my side, she stepped carefully and slowly, marking the placement of her feet to avoid making any sound. She was fully aware of the dangers too close for comfort. As such, she moved gingerly, like tiptoeing near a ready-to-blow detonation device.
I grabbed her forearm, slowing her. When she looked up at me, I pointed at her bare feet. Then I aimed my finger at the sandals I’d found in the closet. More gifts or loans from the previous renters.
Again, she nodded slightly. Detouring toward the wall to slip on the footwear, she clung to my hand. I wasn’t sure if it was for support as she put the sandals on or if she just wanted to maintain contact with me. When she had both on her feet, she didn’t let go. I had my answer. She was scared, even if she didn’t outwardly let me see it.
Knowing she was intimidated motivated me to do all I could to protect her. I liked that she saw me as a source of safety. Of security. Deep down, I wished I could really be her hero. I fleetingly entertained the idea that I could be the good guy to rescue her, not the villain expediting her trip home so she could marry that old fucker.
Slowly and cautiously, we crept toward the door. When she slept in this morning, looking like an angel I wanted to dirty up again, I scoped out the building. This door had a slight lean-to framed around it. It wasn’t much for coverage, but I felt like it was the best we could hope for in terms of a transition of shelter to run out of here.
Once we reached the door, she plastered herself to the wall and let me take the lead. I noticed how her worried gaze followed me, and she frowned more when she reached my arm. Yes, I was wounded. But there was no time to spare to slow down and look at it.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
Her soft, concerned tone tricked me into thinking she really cared. Going down that route of thinking would be too damn dangerous. Nadia wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin and impact me. I’d been madly attracted to her from the moment I saw her, and I acted on that. I figured the insane need to have her would’ve faded by now, but it seemed like the opposite was happening.
I was only getting in deeper with her, touched that she’d be bothered about my injury.
Focus, dammit. Just focus.
I nodded, just to appease her, and concentrated on getting us out of here. The men shouted, trying to call us to surrender and come out of the building.
I’d been waiting for their return. They’d taken my rental yesterday, probably hotwiring it, but just knowing I’d reserved that high-caliber of a car had to have suggested that I had money. And if they roamed in this area, they would’ve known if we walked any further in that storm. I wouldn’t have been shocked if they’d chased out the renters of this place before, a routine of thievery and mugging.
I hadn’t counted on ending up in the Cartel territory. Back home, we had to deal with the Ortez Cartel far too often for my liking. These men, these criminals, operated under a whole different set of laws, and it went without saying that we were in trouble the longer we tried to rest here.
It was time to go.
It was past time to go.
“Stay behind me,” I whispered to her.
Once the men rushed in the front door, perhaps not considering this side exit, I tipped my chin and urged her to run.
Two men ambushed us, likely counting on us to find this side door. I shot one, but the other dodged to the side and tackled Nadia to the ground. She wrestled, kicking and fighting to get free, but before he could go far, I shot him in the head.
Shaking but quiet, smart enough not to scream, Nadia scrambled away from the dead man. On her hands and knees, she hurried to me, and I lowered my hand to help her up.
It was the only close call I wanted to face, but as we hauled ass and sprinted for one of the bikes, another man tried to stop us.
He wasn’t armed, and to save the bullets I was quickly running out of, I opted to twist his head and crack his neck. It was just as lethal. Nadia grimaced, looking away as I let the man drop.
“You okay?” I asked as she climbed onto the bike.
She nodded, shaky but with it. Guns were being fired all over the place, and while I wanted to assume we’d snuck out quick enough, I didn’t want to ride off with her going weak from an injury.
“Hurry,” she pleaded, gesturing for me to get on the bike.
I threw my leg over the seat, and as I lowered to sit, she snaked her arms around me and held on tight. A second later, I revved the engine.
How nice of them to leave the keys, to keep the bike running. It wasn’t a big beast of a motorcycle but a rickety, junky thing. I didn’t care. I wasn’t picky. It had gas and it worked.
I rotated my wrist and peeled out of there, spraying gravel in our wake as I sped away.
Nadia’s arms remained cinched tight around my waist, and I felt the lowering crouch of her body as she curled around me. I hated that she was exposed at my back, but with this tiny of a bike, it would’ve been much more difficult to steer and manage the ride with her in front of me.
“You okay?” I shouted over the roar of the engine. Wind rushed at our faces, and I squinted to see through the narrowed window of vision.
I felt her nod. Her chin dug into my back, and it was all the answer I needed.
Gunshots popped up behind us, and the resounding roars of more bikes followed. They wouldn’t give up easily, but as I wove down another road and prayed the coverage of the jungle would hide us better, I planned to lose them altogether.
Of course, they knew this area. Obviously, the sound of the bike would be hard to mask.
I drove on anyway, hurrying and testing the limits of this old bike.
Nadia held on without flinching, quiet and alert behind me. We were alive. We were getting away. And after a long length of time passed, I began to relax. Loosening my muscles was the start of calming down from this tension, but I wouldn’t attempt to lower my guard until we were further from where these locals could reach us.
But she suspected trouble from the Avilovs. If that other man in London was someone from Lev’s organization, I would’ve caused even more trouble in fighting him back. By stopping him from reaching Nadia, I was indicating that I wanted to stand in the way of their arranged marriage, not that I was a third party trying to assist in making it happen.
How could they have reached her here, though? I was tracking her, and I imagined Lev and his men were doing the same. They had to be using the same technology that I was. She just barely used her phone, and that was how I’d reached her. The device must have fallen when she ran from being mugged, though, because I knew for a fact that all she had now were the clothes on her back.
No purse, no credit cards to be tracked. Not even her phone anymore. She was as far off the grid as possible, but I couldn’t shake the notion that she assumed an Avilov would still locate her.
I’d known to come here after her because her roommate told me. Maybe one of Lev’s men could have done the same thing, talking to Zoe to figure out where to fly to. Maybe it was nothing more than a coincidence of timing that we’d both been rushing after the same target at the same time. I wasn’t ready to reject the possibility that the man I stabbed in the alley in London was an enemy, someone else interfering with Nadia and Lev’s supposed engagement.
We needed to talk about this more, and now that I had to wonder whether I’d fought back an Avilov, I was required to update Alek on how I might have fucked up there. It wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t known. I saw Nadia, and with her as my target in sight, I perceived that other man as a problem to deal with.
The locals we drove away from weren’t the same. They likely tried to mug and terrorize any tourists that came near their reach out here, further from the bustling cities with sunburned vacationers paying tons of money for the Mexican sunshine and beach fun.
One fact remained true. I had to stay alert, and as soon as I got Nadia to a safer location, I would be able to secure her better.
“Where are we going?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. “I think we lost them.”
“I’ll find somewhere to stop.” I wasn’t prepared to give up driving away yet. I wanted somewhere more populated. To hide among the crowds. Sometimes, being remote was a benefit, but other times, it was a hindrance. Staying near a populated area would be better. We needed food. I had to be near a decent reception range to call Alek and also pay for another rental.
Another hour later, likely when this dinky motorbike was about to run out of fuel, I steered down another street. We’d entered civilization. Taller buildings and some resorts lined the way we went, and once I located a public parking sign, I aimed to leave this ugly bike there. It could be dragged away with the keys in the ignition. The sooner someone else moved it, the faster Nadia and I would have less connection to it or the men we’d taken it from.
I parked the bike and held my hand out to Nadia. With how prickly and sassy she was when we first met, I almost expected her to swat my hand away. She didn’t. With a guarded look, she scanned our surroundings, still locked in panic and survival mode as she placed her hand in mine.
This simple show of trust hit me hard. It mattered, somehow. Maybe having sex with her was the ultimate method to get her to loosen up and be more cooperative. Not as stubborn and quick to fight with me.
When she stood and leaned closer to me, I wondered if she sought me as a source of comfort. That was a deeper connection than merely trusting me to keep her alive and not shot up or raped by those locals at the other place out of the city.
And it felt good. I wanted to protect her. I was damned glad she was at my side, walking away from that piece-of-shit bike.
This possessive streak wouldn’t help anything. She wasn’t mine to treasure and defend for any other purpose than keeping her alive to deliver to Lev, as expected.
She was a job, not my woman.
A stubborn bitterness sank into my heart as I reminded myself of that distinction.
Nadia wasn’t mine.
I had no right to want to keep her nestled at my side.
But I hated it. Lusting after a forbidden woman was one matter. Getting my hopes up and letting the lines get blurred between us was just stupid.
I walked up to the nearest hotel with mediocre security. I didn’t want a five-star lodging where the surveillance capabilities would be too good and potentially announce our position to other players in the area. Instead, I went for a decent place that would hold up to unwanted visitors after hours.
Checking in was a breeze. I hadn’t lost my wallet, and the Bratva’s accounts I had access to were practically unlimited. While at the front desk, I overrode the receptionist’s need for identification. A few more dollar bills of a hefty denomination coaxed the young man to ignore all the forms and deviate from protocol.
He assisted me in obtaining another rental car to be delivered here, and again, tossing out a little more cash greased the wheels of his not asking a single damn question.
“If you need anything, anything else at all,” he said with a knowing look, “please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
I nodded once and left the lobby to head up to the rooms. I was past due for a shower, a meal or two.
And preferably, a chance to start the process of shutting out Nadia. I’d keep her safe, but emotional distance would help. We weren’t partners on a vacation. We weren’t lovers heading up to spend the day in bed.
“We’ll rest up some and fly back tomorrow,” I announced as she hurried to catch up with me at the elevator doors.
I noted her bewildered expression in the reflection of the shiny elevator doors. She wouldn’t turn and face me, but she gaped at herself. Shocked. Stunned. Which made no sense. She knew why I was here.
But I hated the hurt that lingered in her eyes, as if she’d expected—and hoped—for an alternative option for us.