Chapter 34
chapter thirty-four
Kai
"What the hell did you do to her?"
Theo, his face covered in blood, hands tainted with red, stands in the middle of the room with Denali at his feet, a gun dangling limply in his hands. He doesn't even seem to notice me as he scratches his head and nudges her lifeless body with the toe of one boot.
"Stupid bitch," he mutters, and I don't hear a hint of the man I met once before at an event hosted by a friend of mine.
I don't hear a hint of a human at all. He's all beast, a creature with no remorse and no goal other than to cause pain and steal what I have, what he doesn't. "Shouldn't have run away. Now I have to be mean."
He's got a gun. It looks suspiciously like Anton's gun, but I can't be sure. I can be sure that Denali's breathing still, though, because of the noises that slip from her lips any time Theo touches her.
Hold on, baby. I'll save you.
"Swanson!"
His dead eyes lift from my girl and settle on me instead, that twisted smile curling as he realizes he's got two targets now instead of one. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the piece of shit she's fucking. What's so special about you that you get what I didn't? Hmm?"
I don't like the way he waves that gun around like it's a toy to him. Like it's nothing to just casually play with a loaded weapon. It puts us all at risk.
I've got to lure him out of here, away from her. But how?
"I dunno, man," I try, aiming for arrogance. I've starred in how many fucking movies now? Played how many good guys and bad? I wrack my brain for something I can use. "Maybe my dick is bigger?"
Theo's eyes narrow. "Not likely."
I act like I'm offended as my mind whirrs with thoughts, trying to sort out a way to get him to follow me, leaving her alone. As long as she's okay, I don't care what happens to me. "How would you know? You been spying on me, now, too? Looking at my junk?"
"You're an idiot. I don't understand what she sees in you." His lips are pursed, and he's glancing between her limp form and my ripe, eager one. If he lunges for me, I'm a goner, but if I can trip him up, make him bail on the gun, I might just stand a chance.
Maybe if I keep poking the bear, he'll do something drastic.
"I bet you fight like a bitch," I try out the words one of my characters threw at an opponent in a fight once, hoping they hit the mark.
Unfortunately, Theo and the character I fought are as different as night and day, so I don't think it's working.
"You've got that gun, so brave. Bet you couldn't land a single punch on me bare-handed. "
His grin falters as he contemplates the possibility that I'm trying to trick him.
I hold my hands out, palms up, as if to say look, here I am, unarmed, and I'm not afraid of you.
"You're a whole lot of stupid in a short ass package, buddy," he mutters, but he's stepping toward me.
"Why would I fight you if I can just shoot you? "
Both our sets of eyes fall on the gun again, and he grins, while I frown.
"See, that's the problem with you, the difference between us that gets me what you want, what you can't have," I point at him, take a step forward, "your'e a coward. You let others do your dirty work—"
"Nobody does my dirty work for me," he snarls, swinging wildly with his free hand.
He misses, but only just. "I did it all by myself.
I'm the one who made all those phone calls.
Not someone else, me!" He storms around in a circle, fuming, and I realize that I might have a chance if I can just unsettle him enough to make him move further away from Denali.
"It was me who stalked her at the dance studio.
Me who cornered her at the gala while you were getting sloshed at the bar. "
So that's why Denali was so torn up at the gala that night. Why she was so unsettled even before we made it to her house. "You wrecked her place on your own?"
"Hell yeah I did. Enjoyed every minute of it.
I knew how bad it would fuck with her. I trashed it, end to end.
She's lucky that cat of hers ditched me before I could grab hold of him, or I'd have ripped his head off and painted her door with his blood.
" He smirks, all the evil a man can possess on full display for me to see, to analyze, to shrink away from in horror.
"I wanted her scared. Wanted her to remember who she belonged to. "
He aims that gun at her head, and I lunge forward, wrapping my hands around his arms, trying desperately to keep the gun pointed anywhere but at her.
It goes off, and in a rush of adrenaline, somehow I manage to get hold of it and knock it out of his hands.
Unfortunately, it skates so far across the floor, I lose sight of it in the scuffle.
I can only hope Theo lost it, too, because that'll mean we're both at the same disadvantage. That I stand a chance.
My luck doesn't last long. Theo's meaty fist comes right up and lands in the side of my jaw, kocking me sideways as I reel from the recoil.
Come on you stupid asshole. That's right. Walk away from her, come get me. Pick on a man, not a helpless female.
I laugh, channeling the ex-military detective gone rogue from the last series I guest starred in.
"That's all you got, you pussy? No wonder she didn't want you.
You hit like your wrist is made of cooked noodles.
" Another step toward me as I rub my jaw, so I take one more back, toward the door, hoping he doesn't see through me to the ruse beneath.
That he won't see my hands shake as I try to steel my spine and prepare to quite possibly die for this woman I'm madly in love with.
I just wish we'd had time to enjoy life together. More than a week of it.
"Fuck you," he spits, and then he's stumbling toward me as Denali roars to life, sweeping him with her foot. As he goes down, she shoves him at me, screaming for me to intercept him.
"Kai! Now!"
I don't know what to do, so I pull out a Sunday morning special and grab him by the head, twisting it sideways with all the effort I can muster as he staggers past me, snarling like a rabid dog.
The sickening pop it makes when his head stops moving and his body keeps going will live with me in my head for the rest of my life.
I groan and drop him immediately as Denali scrambles for the gun, holding it aimed at him, but I don't think that's necessary anymore. I inch toward her, slowly, carefully, hands held out in her direction as she watches Theo like she expects him to get back up and come for her again.
"Denali? Hey, hey there sweet girl," I soothe, hoping she's not in shock. "Why don't you hand me that, and I'll take care of it, yeah?"
She shakes her head, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "No. I—I wanna make sure he's dead, Kai. He has to be dead. This has to be over. I can't—Kai, I can't do this anymore, please—"
I take the gun from her and she collapses into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably, like someone's just rammed into her floodwall and broken the damn thing. All I can do is hold her, hoping it's enough, showing her without words that I'm here, I've got her, I'm not going anywhere.
After awhile, she stops sobbing, and starts thinking. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like I can hear her brain whir to life, running a mile a minute like it does when she faces down a problem at work.
Her hands tighten in my shirt, the first sign that she's stable again—or as stable as she's going to get.
I chance a glance down at her, and see she's already looking up at me. "Hey there, kara. How you feeling?"
"Better." Her eyes trail across the room to the dead man lying on the floor, and her whole demeanor shifts from timid and scared, to angry, resentful, and furious. "I wish I'd killed him with my own hands, though."
I can understand why she feels that way, but I'm glad it didn't come to that.
"I'm glad I could be of some service to you, at least." My eyes trail down her body, and I realize now what I missed in my haste to ensure her safety earlier—she's wearing lingerie, and nothing else. "Denali, where are your clothes?"
"I was planning to seduce you when you came home," she reminds me, "remember the photos?"
"Oh, right." I sorta lost sight of that plot while I was tangling with a psychotic killer. "Whoops." Immediately, I'm taking off my jacket to put around her shoulders. She shouldn't stay like this, she'll freeze to death. "Warm yourself up, baby, and let's get you out of here."
No matter how far away I get her from him, from that room, it doesn't stop her from looking in that direction, thinking. She's always thinking,and this time, it worries me.
"Denali?"
Her lips twist into a frown. "We have to call the cops."
Absolutely not. "Denali, no way. You said it yourself–the cops are on his payroll. Do you want to spend the rest of our lives communicating through letters and five minute phone calls?"
Her body sags into the couch cushions as she gives up in defeat. "Do you have a better idea?"
Unlike the first time she asked me that question, this time, I can answer her in the affirmitave. I've been thinking it over since I snapped a man's neck with my bare hands. "Actually, I do."
I'm going to call my brother. He owes me a favor, after all.
Maybe it's time I cash in.
"Are you sure you don't need my help?" I ask for the tenth time as my twin, a man I've only met once, and his two half brothers, who I suppose are also mine as well, show up in a tricked-out muscle car, engine revving, pile out, and proceed to wrap the man on my floor in the rug he lies on and throw him in their trunk like he's garbage. "What do you plan to do with him?"
I know what he does, what they all do, for a living, but still, I can't help but be a little apprehensive about it all. After all, if someone finds his body, I'll be the one going down for murder. And we don't know each other all that well yet. What if they plan to screw me?
I have to be careful. Denali could be affected by all this too.
Angel shrugs, his eyes falling on Denali, who still stands around in nothing but my jacket and her lingerie in the cold, refusing to leave my side.
I didn't want her back in that room either, not until Theo was out of it.
"You might want to put something other than that cheap jacket on your body, dear. Temps like this, you'll freeze."
She nods solemnly but scoots closer to me, leaning into my warmth. "I'm fine, thanks."
Nash, the one with mean, nasty scars that remind me of the Joker from some of the Batman comics I read as a kid, huffs in annoyance.
"What is it with women and being so damn stubborn all the time?
" He pulls a trenchcoat from their backseat and tosses it at me.
Thankfully I manage to catch it, and in seconds, I've got Denali dressed up a little more, and she's no longer shivering.
It's a step in the right direction.
"Thanks," I mutter, and he nods his agreement, grunts, and slides behind the wheel. Meanwhile, the darkest of the three, the tall one with the british accent, walks out of the house carrying a few pieces of fabric covered in what looks like blood. "What's all that?"
"Evidence," he says simply—I think his name is Rowan—as he walks to the trunk, tossing it in the back with the body. "You leave no trace when shit like this happens."
I don't plan to be making this happen again any time soon.
Angel snorts at my twisted expression. "Well, apparently killing runs in the family, but I guess commercial mass murder just doesn't appeal to our long lost fourth.
" He shoots me a look and turns to join the others.
"Remember to keep your nose clean until we tell you it's safe.
And for the love of god, maybe take some shooting lessons, yeah? "
"What the fuck do I need to take shooting lessons for?"
Rowan just laughs, shaking his head, and slides into the car, leaving me, my twin, and Denali alone out here.
Angel takes my forearm in his grip, and I return the favor, holding on to him because I don't know how long it'll be before we see each other again.
"You take the lessons to protect your girl, you hear?
You're a big shot, and sure, you have security, but where were they this time?
You can't rely on anyone but yourself, bud.
" His eyes scan Denali one more time, and his smile is soft, genuine.
"She's good, Kai. Take care of her. I'll send you a little care package in the mail soon.
Just promise me you'll stay out of trouble for awhile? "
"No promises," I tell him with a chuckle. "But I'll do my best."
"I'll keep his nose clean," Denali pipes up, winking at my twin. Winking at him.
When they're gone, we shower in a rush, taking our time only to reaffirm that we're alive in the most primitive of ways—hot, fast sex pressed against the glass door of the damn thing.
When we're done, we throw on some clothes, pack our things, and call the number on the card my brother gave me.
They're supposed to be some professional clean-up crew.
They'll make sure all of this is taken care of, past what the guys handled already.
And then we hop in the car with Anton—who is all too happy to pretend that none of this happened if it means he doesn't have to admit a nobody knocked him out with his own gun—and leave our personal nightmare behind.
For good, this time.