Chapter 20 #3
The guys keep their lights low, careful not to turn us into an easy target.
I use the faint light to move forward. My heart short circuits - I can't see him. Then, in the far corner, a shadow shifts, uncrossing one ankle from the other. A figure poised to strike, tense like a coiled python. “Lev?” I say, keeping my voice low but not enough that he doesn't recognize it’s me. He's covered in blood, his jacket gone, and his once crisp white shirt soaked through. His hands are cable tied at the back, brutally tight, his skin looks numb gauging by the color. His eyes find mine, and he exhales sharply. Relief crashes through me, he’s still standing. “You took your time.” I see his asshole attitude is still intact. But I don’t think, I just adjust the strap of my gun to rest behind my back and rush to him.
He groans as I wrap my arms around him, his head resting on top of mine.
This is how I imagined I would have felt when I first found him alive, if it were different circumstances and none of the other shit had happened.
My heart doesn’t feel as heavy anymore to know the truth, to know that I never loved the wrong man, just trusted the wrong one who got between us.
“Anytime, Hawk,” his voice rumbles above my head.
A muffled laugh comes from beside me as Hawk heads to us to cut the ties with his flick of his knife.
With his arms now free, he wraps them behind my neck, a tight squeeze at the base.
Neither of us say a word as Hawk checks him over.
I can feel that the blood on his shirt is still wet, my arm sticking to his side.
“You hurt?” I pull back from him, noticing the blood on my arm that seems to have come from a wound that’s actively bleeding.
“Just a surface wound; the old prick caught my side.” He lifts up his shirt to show a four-inch slash that starts at his front and works its way back, like the blade’s been flicked off his waist in a taunt.
That'll need to be cleaned out and stitched.
Just then, Phantom’s voice comes over the earpieces.
“One patrol is making his way north to you, he's forty meters out.” We move swiftly; I bring my gun back to a high-ready position, Noc lifts one from a fallen patrol. Retracing our path, we weave through the terrain, a little less stealthy than before as the grass rustles beneath us as we push forward. There should only be a couple of the patrols left by now. Phantom spots us and descends the tower ladder in one swift drop. We break into a sprint towards the truck, urgency crackling between us to get the hell out of here. Blitz slides into the front passenger seat, but I notice Hawk’s not getting in.
Noc leans against the door, arms folded as the realization reaches the rest of us – Hawk’s not coming with us.
“What the fuck are you doing Hawk? Get in.” I scold him, but he shakes his head.
“You’re going to need someone on the inside.
We need to make it look real. You’ve all gone rogue.
One of you needs to hit-” His words are replaced with an oomph.
Noc’s first connects with his face with a swipe of a sharp twist, a strike so effortless, if you blinked, you’d have missed it.
Phantom lets out a low whistle, impressed by the seamless execution.
Hawk hits the ground with a thud, but before he can process the blow, Noc extends a hand, as quick as his strike had been. There's no hesitation in Hawk as he’s helped back to his feet, a chuckle sounding from his chest. “Asshole, how long have you waited to do that?”
Noc’s wry grin is his answer. “A good few years. More so after what you just let come out your mouth.”
“Well, that'll do it - but let me fucking finish first.” Hawk’s tone is firm.
“I need you to tie me up, knock me out – make it look like you've overthrown me. I'll be in touch as soon as I can.” I don’t like this one bit. And judging by everyone’s uneasy glances around me, they aren’t comfortable either.
“'Hawk?” Blitz tries to reason with him, but the Exec’s mind is set.
He shakes his head. “That’s an order, 616.” His voice leaves no room for argument “Now come on, Noc, Nyx - stay out here and keep watch. We'll be quick. Since you’ve already primed my skull.” The rest of them head inside, their voices fading as Hawk fires instructions, leaving Noc and I alone.
My neck tingles with awareness as I feel Noc's eyes on me, drawing my own to glance up at him.
I roam over his features; his sharp jaw pierces through the night like a blade, the moonlight reflecting off his side profile.
He looks like a fallen angel, and in some ways he is.
And whilst we have this moment alone, I have the urge to explain myself.
“I didn't make the call at your house, just so you know.” I clear my throat, tilting my head.
“I had planned to once you told me everything, but I didn't expect anything like this. I thought you had some sick explanation for what you did. Then, I was going to call in Hawk once we left.” I exhale a breath, feeling a little lighter now that I’ve managed to get that off my chest.
The silence lazes between us, and when he does speak, his voice mirrors the darkness of the night sky above us. “And what is it that you know, Malyshka?” My heart stutters at that name, a name meant only for me. “That it was Graves behind it all, and that he killed my mother. Not you.”
Noc nods as he stares into the tree line, then his body goes rigid.
In one swift motion, he snaps the gun up, aiming to take a shot as his eyes narrow down the scope.
“Get behind the car, Brodie.” His dark tone still threads through his words.
And I find myself caught between the two names, both carrying their own meaning.
One, steeped in desire. The other, tethered to something far deeper.
His stone-like arm pushes me aside, shielding me behind cover.
I scowl, irritation burning through me now that the lust-induced fog has finally lifted.
I roll my eyes, raise my gun, and shift behind the cruiser.
“If you haven’t noticed, Noc, I can handle myself.
Probably got a better shot in me than you.
” He lowers his gun slightly, glancing away from the scope with a huffed laugh, but before he can respond, I fire.
The shot rings out, and Noc’s amusement vanishes as he snaps his focus back down his scope.
There's a rustle in the bushes ahead, a patrol that was moving from the tree line, weapon raised. My bullet meets its mark. A distant groan confirms he’s down.
I lower my gun, eyebrow raised in challenge as I face him, letting a devilish smile stretch across my face.
He runs his tongue over his teeth as he nods.
“Not ashamed to admit that made me a little hard, but I would’ve gotten him if you hadn’t distracted me.
” Typical, can't admit when he's wrong - I see that's something that hasn’t changed. I roll my eyes at him, my mouth opening for a witty comeback, but footsteps pounding towards us stop me. Noc and I shift instinctively, pressing back-to-back at the cruiser, guns raised. “Stand down, it’s the guys.” I say, lowering my weapon.
“All good?” I ask as they reach us, all piling into the cruiser.
Phantom takes the wheel, throwing a bundle of clothes over the center console for Noc to change into.
Adam hands them over, along with a first aid kit as the two of us settle into the far back.
“Yeah, we trashed the place. Hawk’s tied up in your room, Nyx - sorry.
” Well, that's one way to clear any doubt if Graves thought I might know.
Blitz looks back at me and then to Noc. “I don't like this.” Her face matches the worry in her tone, and the feeling is mutual.
But Noc answers her whilst ripping the blood-stained tailored shirt off.
My eyes promptly skim over his sculpted torso, all carved lines of packed muscle; it is totally inappropriate to be doing this right now, but it would be a sin not to admire.
“Hawk knows what he's doing. He's been in this with me for four years. He can handle himself.” Noc sighs.
“He knows what to do if he's in trouble.” But he doesn't elaborate further.
I tear my gaze away to look at Blitz, stretching my hand through the gap to hold hers rested on the back of the seat, and squeeze.
She gives me a smile that doesn't lift far at the corners, then faces back around.
I sink into the seat, releasing a breath, a silent hope that it will carry the weight of the stress away with it.
Noc's knee bumps into mine and I glance at him undoing his belt, moving to slide his suit trousers off and swap them for the cargos Phantom gave him.
His t-shirt is scrunched up at his chest as he pours antiseptic over the gash. Then he winds a temporary bandage round his torso until we can deal with it properly. Phantom eases the cruiser onto the road, his voice sharp when calls back, “Where the fuck do we go from here?”
I glance up, finding Noc already staring at me as I watch him.
“Head for Moscow. It will be a ten-hour drive from here.
I've got a safe house on the outskirts we can use. Hawk knows we'll be headed there.” Noc finally breaks the stare, typing the address into someone’s phone.
But the second he hands it over; his full attention is right back on me.
My thighs clench with an ache of a reminder of what we did just hours before.
He reaches out, wordlessly inviting me closer.
I’m too tired to protest, and too drained to argue about whether this is appropriate.
Affection with an audience? Unfamiliar territory with him - with anyone.
And there’s still so much left unsaid between us.
But he doesn’t wait for me to decide. His fingers curl around my arm, tugging me closer, clearly unimpressed with my hesitation.
I shift to settle into the seat, resting my head in his lap.
His fingers thread through the loose hair of my ponytail, his touch unbelievably gentle compared to the cutting edges of his demeanor.
Anyone would take one look at him and assume he’s incapable of being tender.
But I know better. Because here we are, slipping into that old familiarity, like no time has passed at all.
He stares out the window, lost in thought, his fingers still gliding in the strands of my hair.
Between the feel of his touch, and the events of the last twenty-four hours, exhaustion lies deep in my bones.
And somehow, I find myself drifting into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in the last four years.