Chapter 11 The Mission
“No.” I sign to Sofia an hour later in the hotel room we secured. Tristan’s processing Aria’s apartment while we get her settled for the night.
“Why can’t you?” she whispers, but when she spots Aria eyeing us as she unpacks her things, she switches to sign language.
Elias is a fucking genius for making everyone learn ASL—not only is it good for silent communication, but it can also be a one-handed language, great for when we’re holding weapons.
“You played bodyguard for Lana most of last year. You’re good at it. What’s stopping you? I’m not as special as Elias?”
You’re not the woman I just lost control with in a dark room. You’re not the person who makes me want to do it again. You’re not someone who can become my liability.
“Ren.” Sofia arches one elegant brow.
Her gaze snaps to Aria, who has the most adorable frown on her face and is aiming a cell phone at us. My guess is she’ll try to decode our conversation later.
Sofia clearly has the same concern, because she grabs a pillow from the couch and hurls it at the nosy nurse, knocking the phone out of her grip.
“Hey! Watch it,” Aria complains, her hands going directly to the chess set I saw her cradling on her lap. “You could’ve broken it.”
“I have good aim,” Sofia says. “What’s that to you? Expensive? Looks brand new.”
“None of your business.” A wistful smile crosses her face. Then she scowls. “Use your words next time. No need to throw things.”
“Eavesdropping is bad manners.”
“Speaking in another language about me in front of me is bad manners.”
The queen of The Syndicate smirks. As much as she won’t admit it, Sofia Kent has a soft heart despite her hard exterior.
“Learn sign language. Don’t sneak around like paparazzi,” she says, then pulls me to the hallway, out of sight from Aria. “Is there something I should know about the two of you? Something preventing you from doing this job?”
My heart kicks once, and I ignore it to readjust my black mask.
I can still taste her. My Aria. Her sweetness is like strawberries. I can still feel the frantic drag of her nails and the way she came apart against me.
And when Sofia called and said her apartment was ransacked?
I nearly lost my mind.
So much that I almost forgot to wipe down my new cologne and reapply my usual scent.
I shut the memory down and focus on twirling my gun in my hand.
A glitch in my damn heart. A fucking glitch.
“The Kongs put a bounty on her head. Ten million,” I sign.
“What?” Sofia’s eyes widen.
I should’ve told her and the others sooner. They’re the only ones I can trust with this mess.
My jaw locks. “They’re putting it on hold. They want a key that they believe she has. I was going to tell you guys at The Syndicate meeting. It has to be one of the other families behind this.”
Frustrated, I jam the weapon back into my holster.
“So Aria’s your mark.” Sofia’s gaze roves over me. “Conflict of interest then. I regret calling you.”
“It’s not a damn conflict because I’m telling you now!” I toss my hands into the air. “What’s her to you? Why do you care?”
Eyes flashing, she jabs her finger into my chest. “Aria is Lana’s friend, so that makes her family.”
She looks away, her next words quiet. “And I despise men hurting women.”
Tension thrums in the air.
“I will never hurt her.”
Sofia clears her throat, once again the composed seductress I know, and faces me again.
“Hm. I believe you.” She arches her brow. “You like her. I never thought I’d see the day when Si Shen grew a heart.”
Ignoring her, I sign, “I don’t have a heart. Only a borrowed one. I’ll watch her tonight. But you figure out a plan B. I don’t want the Kongs asking questions. We’ll talk more at the meeting.”
“I’ll take it.” Sofia grins and strides back to Aria, who now has her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at us.
“I’m heading out—an appointment to get to.
But you should be safe here. Tristan will get your apartment fixed, outfitted with alarms, cameras, the works.
To be safe, Ren will watch you tonight. Be good. I’ll check in on you later.”
Without waiting for her response, Sofia glides out the door, her hand lifting in a wave.
The door closes with a soft click.
My eyes meet Aria’s, and the hotel room suddenly feels too small, too claustrophobic.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I motion to the couch and then point to the bedroom. Then I make a show of glancing at an imaginary watch on my wrist.
“What?” Aria squints. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
I sigh and take out my phone, opening our chat from the movie theater.
Ren
I’ll take the couch. You get the bedroom. Go rest. It’s late.
Her full lips part in a little O. Sitting there, with her face pale, thick dark-brown hair sweeping over her shoulders, she looks so fragile.
So breakable.
It wouldn’t take much. A closed room. A pair of hands. Fifteen minutes or less, and monsters like Jasper and the Kongs could break her in ways she hasn’t seen or imagined.
Monsters like me.
The thoughts grip my chest, and I force my hands into my pockets, needing to stop myself from doing something stupid like taking her into my arms or locking her in a safe house forever.
What’s stopping you?
Celia.
I can’t do stupid shit as long as my sister is in danger. She’s the only person who can derail a clean mission. Everything I do is for Celia.
I grip my shirt as an ache spears between my ribs. Fucking malfunctioning heart.
“You okay?” Aria asks.
She stands and strides toward me. A caring nurse, even now when she’s in danger.
I back up instinctively and hold up my hand. “Stop.”
If she comes any closer, I might do something I’ll regret.
Like chase away her fear by kissing her.
I grab my phone and text her.
Ren
I don’t have time for this. First Lana, then you. I’m not a babysitter.
Her eyes flare with hurt, and I bite my cheek until pain lashes me. But this is good. She shouldn’t be grateful to me.
I’m a bad man.
“I didn’t ask for this, you know,” she says.
Ren
Nor did I.
“You didn’t need to come. I don’t want to force you to ‘babysit’ me.”
Ren
Trust me. You can’t force me to do anything.
“What’s gotten into you, Ren? Where’s the guy who comes to my ER with hunting accidents? Or the guy who protected me at the hospital and told me nothing’s wrong with me!” Her hands ball into fists, and she snaps her mouth shut like she’s surprised at her reaction.
Guilt tugs my feet forward.
“Someone obviously got up on the wrong side of the bed today,” Aria mutters. “To think at the movies, I actually thought you were…”
Her voice trails off, her cheeks pinkening. Then she scowls.
“What?” I mouth.
“Never mind. I was clearly not thinking straight.” She grabs her chess set, heads into the bedroom, and slams her door shut with a bang.
Then, half a second later, the door creaks open, and she pokes her face out.
“I’m better than this,” she grumbles. “Ren, thank you for coming. Sorry for inconveniencing you.”
Then she yanks the door shut again, rattling it against the doorframe.
Something unsteady moves through me as I stare at the thin slab of wood separating me from the woman I don’t understand and can’t ignore.
I don’t know what I want with her.
I only know I want more than I should.
More conversations. More smiles. Less distance.
And that’s a problem.
The AC creaks, a grinding hum rippling through the vents. Cool air scrapes across my face.
“I’ll protect you,” I whisper. “You’re safe.”
Even from me.
“Give it up. Don’t make it hard for us,” the low voice growls.
I dash down the dark alley, my shoes heavy as bricks. I look down and watch in horror as my sneakers morph into actual cement blocks.
“No, no, no.” Breath shallowing, I lift my feet even as footsteps pound behind me.
I’m too slow.
“Aria!” the new voice cries, a ghostly wail vibrating through the air.
I spin toward the familiar voice.
Blake lies on the ground, his blond hair caked with blood, his beautiful eyes filled with pain. He reaches out, his hand trembling.
I can’t reach him. Not in time.
Too heavy. My shoes are too heavy.
“Save me, Aria,” Blake yells. Crimson rivers pour out of his mouth, and I scream.
Chains snake out of the ground and wrap around my ankles.
I can’t move.
“Blake! Run!” I struggle. Something presses on top of me. A weight.
I can’t breathe.
“You’ll never escape us,” the low voice rasps again.
Icy fingers clamp around my arms, and a bite lances down.
I shriek, fists flying. I’ll die before I let them hurt Blake.
The monster’s grip tightens. I fight harder, but he’s stronger.
Hard muscles band against my throat. A column of heat singes my back.
“Shhh…I’ve got you,” the wind whispers.
Rain breaks through the clouds, wetting the pavement, morphing into thin mist.
Then disappears.
My eyes jerk open, my fingers digging into the arm wrapped across my chest.
The familiar scent of leather and amber fills my nostrils, and I strain in a deep inhale.
Slowly, my pulse steadies, my vision adjusting to the dark, making out the shapes of the small dresser, the lone chair by the window, and the bedroom door ajar.
Then there’s the muscular body at my back.
New sensations dance over my skin as long fingers trail circles over my forearms.
Comforting. Reassuring.
Safe.
“R-Ren,” I whisper.
It was a nightmare. He must’ve heard me and come in here.
He freezes. Slowly, he releases me, and the chill of the AC wafts over my sweat-slicked skin.
The bed creaks, the weight behind me disappearing, and the next thing I see is his tall, dark shadow heading toward the faint light spilling in from the living room.
“Stop.” I grab his hand, and he stills.
He doesn’t look at me, but even in the dark, I can make out those broad shoulders moving up and down like he’s struggling to breathe.
“Can you…stay? Please?”
My heart slams against my rib cage. I don’t know why I’m begging him to stay. He didn’t want to be here tonight. It was only a nightmare. Not even the first since Blake died.
The sting of our earlier angry exchange comes back sharp and unwanted. He’d been so rude. So hostile. It hurt more than it should have because I’d thought we were beyond that, with our little jokes and snide remarks.
I thought he understood me.
But I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want to be alone.
And I want the man who chased the fog away at the theater to stay.
“Just sit next to me until I fall asleep,” I whisper, hating how weak I sound.
Ren doesn’t answer, but he twines our fingers together, giving them a squeeze.
Then, he moves, a tall, powerful shape I still can’t clearly make out in the dark but can sense the shrinking inches between us.
The air thickens. The temperature rises despite the AC roaring in the background.
He eases the covers off the other side of the bed. The mattress dips with his weight as he slides in.
Perhaps it’s because I’m overwhelmed and scared, but I tremble, my eyes prickling at the familiar sensation of someone lying next to me in bed.
And Ren, a dangerous man from Elias’s world, makes me feel safe. Anchored.
He reaches for my hand under the covers and intertwines our fingers.
Warmth suffuses me.
I hiccup. “Sorry. I’m tougher than this. ER nurse. Nerves of steel.”
A chuckle rumbles from him, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he tightens his grip on mine. His thumb moves softly over my skin as if he can’t help himself.
Soon, heaviness blankets my eyelids. Ren drifts closer, wrapping me in his arms, and eventually, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
The next day, when I wake up, the spot next to me is empty. On the crumpled pillow are a small yellow packet and my cell.
An unopened tea bag.
Chamomile.
Frowning, I grab my phone. A text flashes across the screen.
Ren
For nights when you can’t sleep. You’re safe.
I smile.
Ren gives me quiet. Ghostface gives me somewhere to put my dark thoughts. Both make the loneliness easier to bear.