Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Startled by a clap of thunder, I woke from a deep sleep. I blinked a few times while trying to place my surroundings. The storm raged outside. It wasn’t one of those soothing oceanside downpours. It was torrential with bolts of lightning and rumbling thunder that shook the building.
Was that hail? I listened to the thumping above and outside. No, it seemed too heavy for hail.
Too tired to think about the strange sounds, I stretched my neck and tried to find a more comfortable position on the too firm mattress and soft pillow. My hips ached, my neck throbbed, and I needed to pee.
Cautiously, so as not to wake Luka, I carefully lifted the heavy arm that was draped across my waist. He grumbled in his sleep but didn’t fully wake.
I got out of bed and skirted the edge of the mattress.
I crept to the bathroom without waking him and slipped inside, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind me.
As I peed, I noticed the scrapes and bruises darkening on my knees and toes. I’d fallen hard out on the grass, and my feet and legs had taken the worst of it. Earlier, before we’d turned off the lights and gone to sleep, I had catalogued the marks on Luka. He hadn’t fared much better than me.
I tried not to think about how complicated things were now. Before, when we’d been enemies, it had all been so simple. Our relationship was easy to categorize. We hated each other. Done. Finished. The end.
But now? I was a tangled mess of emotions. I didn’t hate him anymore. I didn’t even dislike him.
There was no doubt in my mind that I’d have sex with him again if we had another chance. We had an explosive connection, one that left me craving what he offered.
Could it ever be more than that?
Should it ever be more than that?
I couldn’t answer those questions. I wasn’t ready to answer them.
There was another clattering sound, this one louder and closer. Was it a piece of furniture on the balcony? A cheap, lightweight chair being pushed around by the wind?
I finished using the bathroom and flushed. As I tugged up shorts, I heard another sound and Luka’s muffled voice. Was he having a nightmare? If he was, I didn’t blame him. Between the two of us, we had enough traumatic experiences to fuel a million nights of nightmares.
I washed my hands and dried them, all while trying to figure out what Luka was muttering out there. I left the light on so I could wake and orient him more easily. I stepped out of the bathroom, rounded the corner—and gasped.
Luka wasn’t alone. There was someone on top of him, trying to strangle him. My gaze snapped to the balcony door, now wide open. He must have left it unlocked when he came inside earlier. All that noise I heard was someone jumping from another balcony onto ours.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I launched myself at the shadowy figure on top of Luka.
With both hands gripped together, I slammed down my fists into the back of his neck, startling him.
I shoved him hard, pushing him off the bed, and toppling him onto the floor.
As I fell forward, I heard Luka coughing behind me, trying to catch his breath.
I had barely registered that Luka was alive when the man I’d hit struck at me, hitting me hard in the ribs with his elbow.
I grunted at the paint and tried to block his blows.
He swung his arms and tried to get back on his feet.
I stayed on top of him, using my size to force him into submission.
I ground my knees into the bony part of his lower back, making him cry out in pain.
I allowed myself to be distracted by Luka moving around behind me. Our attacker reared back with all his strength, knocking his head into my chin. The blinding explosion of agony startled me, and I lost my balance. He reacted instantly, throwing me off and clambering on top of me.
His hands were around my throat in a heartbeat. The light from the bathroom illuminated his head. He wore a black balaclava, and his dark eyes glared menacingly down at me through the opening. He squeezed tighter, and I clawed at his wrists, using my nails to scratch deeply and make him bleed.
If I’m dying here, I’m going down with his DNA under my fingernails.
Luka appeared just over our attacker’s shoulder, and with a mighty roar, he swung something at the man’s head. It connected with a wooden clunk. The hands gripping my neck went slack, and the man fell right on top of me.
I shoved him off of me, feeling the burn of the fleece mask fabric as it scraped against my cheek and neck. I struggled to lift his dead weight off of me but finally managed to slide sideways to get out from under him.
“Did I kill him?” Luka asked, tossing aside a wooden shelf he’d ripped from the kitchenette cabinet.
“I’m not sure.” I moved closer to the attacker and slipped my fingers under the balaclava. I found his pulse. It beat steadily but slowly. “He’s alive.”
Luka reached for the wooden shelf. “Get back.”
“What are you doing?” I scrambled to my feet. Aghast, I glared at him. “You can’t kill him!”
“He tried to kill us!”
“And failed!” I yanked the wooden shelf from his hand and threw it on the bed. “We’re not committing murder tonight.”
“Don’t be stupid, Elona. We can’t afford to be soft.”
“We’re not killing him, Luka.” I stood my ground, daring him to make a move.
He leered down at me, his face awash with the harsh light from the bathroom. Finally, he said, “We’re tying him up and gagging him.”
“Fine.” I didn’t see any reason not to, all things considered.
“Get dressed. We have to get out of here.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now,” he shot back in frustration. “For all we know, there are more people coming to finish the job.”
“What about the police?” I asked feebly. “Can they be trusted?”
Luka snorted derisively. “No one can be trusted. Not anymore.” He glanced back at me as he yanked the laces out of the boots the attacker wore. “The only person who knows we’re here is Zec.”
I gulped at the realization that someone close to Luka had betrayed him. “You’re sure no one else knows?”
“We’ve been with each other since leaving the wedding rehearsal.” He started to loop the laces around the attacker’s wrists. “I know you haven’t contacted anyone.”
“What about the lady at the front desk downstairs?” I had a nearly desperate need to prove that Luka hadn’t been betrayed by those closest to him. “Or someone at the strip mall where we stopped to get clothes and the phones? Or someone who saw us on the street?”
“What do you think is more likely, Elona?” He shook his head and pulled the belt from the attacker’s waist. “That some random person we crossed paths with tonight just happened to know we were on the run or that the one person I called and trusted with our location did?”
The pain in his voice left me wincing. He'd been betrayed by someone he had known his entire life. That was a wound that went deep and would never heal.
I noticed the man on the floor moving, and all thoughts of who betrayed us or why fled. “He’s waking up. Hurry. Gag him before he yells.”
Luka didn’t have to be told twice. He snatched the balaclava off the man’s head, folded and looped it through the man’s mouth, forcing his tongue down and shutting off any chance he might make noise.
He pushed the man’s face side to side as if trying to identify him.
“He’s one of the Raffaelli capos. He plays in a high-stakes poker game with Zec. ”
Another mark against Zec.
I crouched beside Luka for a better look at our attacker. The shaft of bathroom light showed his features clearly including a large red birthmark around his eye and down his cheek. “I think this man was in Houston with my mother.”
Luka turned an accusing glare on me.
“I don’t know him!” I scowled indignantly. “My mother’s housekeeper told me a man with a birthmark on his face came to the house. He harassed my mom. Mariana didn’t know why or what he wanted.”
“Your mother. The Raffaellis. Zec.” Luka listed off all the people who were probably involved in this awful betrayal. “Maybe your mother was working with them to get rid of your grandfather.”
“My mother’s a lot of things, but she’s not the type to murder her own kids. She wouldn’t have agreed to a bomb at a wedding where we were all present.”
“Really?” Luka asked daringly. “The woman who beat your head until you bled yesterday isn’t the type to murder her kids?”
I gulped at the ugly truth of it. Eventually, I conceded, “She might be, but not when it comes to Skender. He’s her golden child.”
“Maybe he’s in on it, too.”
I didn’t want to think that. I didn’t want to believe that my own family was plotting to kill me. “Luka, we don’t have time for this. We need to get out of here before someone else comes to finish the job.”
Luka nodded stiffly. He stood and rushed to the chair where he’d left his clothes. When I didn’t immediately jump up to join him, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Checking his pockets. Maybe he has something useful or some money.” I found a phone that I tossed aside, a key fob and some cash. I ran my hands down his hips and legs, frisking him like a cop. I discovered a wickedly sharp knife and a Makarov pistol.
“Here.” I handed Luka the knife, the cash and the key fob.
“The gun?” He held out his hand expectantly.
“Not a chance.” I held it firmly and out of his reach. “I don’t know how well you can shoot, but I do know that I’m good with a gun. I’m not taking any chances.”
“I can shoot!” he insisted but didn’t try to take it from me. “Keep it hidden,” he warned. “You haven’t lived here in a long time. It’s not like Texas. People don’t walk around with guns on their hips.”