Chapter 10
LAYLA
The world outside is soaked in shadows and acid greens and pinks from nearby jazz bars.
The spring storm lingers overhead, thunder rolling through the night sky, only to fade into a restless hush as the seconds pass.
Not unlike my soul before Beast literally barreled into my life and demanded I get behind him as he played my knight in shining armor. I’ve never met someone so intent on being a shield for another person the way he did.
I slide out of bed and move through the loft, grabbing my glasses and Beast’s white shirt before I head out the door. I pad barefoot from room to room, replaying every moment that brought me here. The cotton hem brushes my thighs. I gather the soft cotton to my nose and inhale the scent of my man.
Ha. My man. Those are two very new words in my vocabulary. I roll them over my tongue and I have to say, I like how they sound when I whisper them into the dimmed living room. Wearing this shirt, standing in his home, I can’t help but feel like I’m surrounded by an invisible shield where I am safe.
I pause by the window. The rain paints ribbons of water across the glass, city lights smeared across the large expanse of crystal. It’s beautiful and a replica of how my heart feels right now. Blurred with countless emotions but full of color and hope.
We are two floors up, and from this height I can’t see much. Which means there aren’t many people who can see me. I step up to the glass and huff a deep breath out, causing it to steam up.
I haven’t done this in forever, and it makes me smile as I draw a heart and put my initials next to Beast’s.
L + B encased in a fat heart.
I smile. Cute.
Something black catches my eye from the alley below. It shifts between the right side, heading for the left where a dumpster sits with the lids closed. I squint into the darkness, my breath locked in my lungs. All I see is a black river of darkness.
I stay there for several heartbeats, but nothing moves. I rub my eyes. I’m just tired and jumpy.
Right when I am about to step away, the night shifts again. This time I spot a bulky figure, then another, slipping between the brick wall and various other dumpsters.
Cold fear pinches the base of my spine. I flatten myself to the nearby wall, my heart hammering a hole through my chest.
I scoot along the wall, never taking my eyes off the window.
Why, who knows. There’s nothing that can come through it unless they can jump straight up two stories.
Even so, I inch along the wall at my back.
When I reach the end, I step out, ready to head for Beast’s room.
Before I take two steps, arms band around my waist, yanking me flush against a body that radiates heat and muscle and certainty.
“Easy, Doc.” Beast’s voice is a low growl. It rolls down my spine and melts the panic for a split second. He’s instantly alert, scanning the darkness below with a soldier’s gaze. His hand finds the back of my neck, grounding me.
I push my glasses back in place. “There’s trouble out there.”
“I know.”
My words tangle in my throat for a second before I can blurt them out. “I…I, uh, I saw them. Three—no, four men,” I correct myself quickly. “They’re spreading out.”
He curses under his breath, moving me deeper into the shadows of the living room. The air inside changes from safe a second ago to something more like freak the hell out. It feels tight against my chest and tingles over my skin.
Behind me, I feel Beast’s muscles tense. Every line of his body coils for violence. I look up and see his jaw tightened, and his eyes shift from lover to beast mode in a blink.
“Stay close. If I say run, you run. Don’t be a hero, doc.”
He’s halfway to the bedroom to grab weapons when the front door turns into a million different ways we can die. Metal fragments explode into the loft and it’s impossible to stay upright.
The force knocks the coat rack sideways, shards of deadbolt flying, and four Russians charge inside.
They are covered in black and have murder written all over their actions.
Their heavy boots thud against the hardwood I’m currently hugging.
It’s dark in here, but I would recognize a silhouette of a gun anywhere.
But what really gives me pause is the large knives.
The long blades catch a glint of light and make my heart stop cold.
Beast reacts with terrifying speed. He moves his body between me and the invaders before I can move from my spot on the floor.
A Russian lunges, swinging a length of pipe. Beast sidesteps, catches the man’s wrist, and shatters his arm with a brutal twist that ends in a gunshot crack of bone. The man howls, crumples, and Beast is already on the next—an elbow to the jaw, the crack of skull against drywall.
Ouch. Wow. I can’t help but cringe inwardly.
Two more shadows surge in, boots pounding, guns raised at Beast’s head. Just like he did back at the mansion, he eliminates the threat without pausing.
A shadow moves to my right and another man I lost track of grabs my arm, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to bruise. My glasses fall off and skitter across the floor.
Shit.
My brain goes blank with white terror, but I remember the vase on the side table by the couch.
Everything has a blurry border without my glasses. I’m not a fighter, but I’m also not a pushover who cowers in the corner. I reach deep and summon the wrath that accumulated in the depths of my soul for the last five months and use it.
Power surges through my veins and an unhealthy dose of I don’t give a fuck fuels my next moves.
I snatch up the vase, aim and smash it across my attacker’s face. Glass and water explode everywhere.
Dipshit staggers, blood streaking his cheek, but he finds it in himself to swing a punch at my jaw. My vision blurs with pain. I stumble, feet skidding on the slick floor, but I refuse to go down. Not now. Not again.
Blood tastes like copper pennies as I spit onto the hardwood.
I grab a nearby lamp and given the man is semi-confused, it’s easy to knock him out cold with a good whack of the metal base.
I stumble past him and skid on the slippery surface, catching myself before I face plant into the shards of glass.
From the corner of my eye I see a Russian barrel at Beast, knocking over a lamp, the room flickering with bursts of gold and shadow.
They grapple like two animals locked in a death struggle. Fists fly. I see the glint of a knife. Beast hisses as the blade slices his arm, blood beading along the vivid ink, but he barely flinches. He slams the man’s head into the wall so hard the plaster cracks. The Russian slumps, unmoving.
With his hand around the Russian’s throat, Beast looks back at me and tosses something in my direction. “Call Reaper. Let him know.”
I mentally fill in the rest that he leaves off when the Russian clocks Beast in the jaw.
I dive for the phone, my hands slick and shaking.
“Code! What’s the code?” I scream. Beast shouts the numbers as he catches another wild punch and sends another attacker spinning across the kitchen island.
I fumble, dropping the phone when a hand closes around my ankle, yanking me off my feet. I land hard, gasping, and the world tilts. The same freaking Russian climbs on top of me, spit flying as he curses in Russian.
“For fuck’s sake, can’t you just stay down!” I roar with all my might.
I go feral. I gouge at his eyes, rake my nails down his cheek, grab anything I can and use it with all my strength. My fist connects with his nose, blood spurting hot and coppery over my hand. He draws a knife.
Shit.
I scream, bucking wildly. I wrench the gun from his holster as his blade rakes my thigh.
I fire. The bullet tears through his knee with a sickening pop. He screams, his weight crushing me until I shove him off, scrambling to my feet. I see Beast dispatching two more men, blood running down his arm, teeth bared in a savage snarl.
“Aim higher, baby!” he calls out as another Russian charges me, wild-eyed.
“Like, in the balls?” I shout, heart racing. My hands tremble, but I lift the gun and fire again. This time the bullet tears through his thigh, dropping him instantly. He howls and scrambles for his own weapon, and I stomp on his wrist, feeling the bones grind beneath my heel.
Oh, God! That is going to cost me in therapy. I just know it. My stomach curdles.
“Head would work better if you want them to stay down,” Beast grunts, elbowing a man in the face, sending teeth flying. He takes a punch to the ribs, grunts, but doesn’t slow. He’s a hurricane, every move efficient and lethal.
Glass shatters. A Russian with a knife corners me by the kitchen counter, blade slashing in a wild arc.
I backpedal, fumbling for anything—a mug, a heavy frying pan.
I snag on something that feels like cast iron and I hurl the object with all my might at his head.
It glances off his temple, stunning him long enough for me to kick the gun across the floor and lunge for the knife.
We grapple, sweat and terror, my bare feet slipping on blood-slick tiles.
He’s stronger, but desperation fuels me.
His knife slices my arm, hot pain blooming, but I manage to grab his wrist, twist, and force the blade into his own side. He gasps, eyes wide, and topples.
I scurry off him. Disbelief washes over me and coils into sickness in the pit of my stomach.
Everywhere is chaos—bodies, broken furniture, blood.
My lungs burn. My hands shake. I want to curl up and scream, but I keep moving.
I grab a gun with one hand and snatch the phone again and dial Reaper with trembling fingers, yelling into the receiver.
“We’re at the safe house! Russians everywhere.
Beast is hurt. You gotta get here fast!”
“Hold on, Layla!” Reaper growls. “We’re coming.”
“Good!” But I know help is still minutes away. And we may not have that kind of time.
Suddenly, a booming shot roars through the darkness, louder and closer than the rest. The fighting stops. Silence blooms, thick and sudden through the entire loft.
With my chest heaving, I keep Reaper on the phone as Beast and I watch Veles move his large form into the entryway. His suit is perfect, and his hair immaculate. He’s let his men do all the dirty work of tiring us out. He raises a pistol at Beast’s head, his expression glacial.
Time seems to slow. I can hear Beast’s ragged breath, the thrum of my own pulse. The air smells of gunpowder, sweat, blood, and fear.
Veles steps forward, gun unwavering. “It’s over, Savage. You cost me money, men, and my product. You will pay for what you’ve done.”
Beast is bleeding from his arm and lip, shirt torn, eyes wild and fierce. He keeps himself between me and Veles, every muscle ready to lunge, to kill, to die if he has to. It’s written all over his stance. He’s ready to cash out if it means protecting me.
My soul aches at the thought of losing him.
Veles moves closer, his gun now inches from Beast’s face. “Step aside. The girl comes with me and the papers she stole from me.”
The papers. I almost forgot about them.
“No,” Beast growls. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
Veles cocks the gun, finger tightening on the trigger.
And I move.
Adrenaline surges, drowning out fear. I rise from behind the counter, gun trembling in my hand, my legs barely holding me upright.
I step behind Veles, slow and silent. My hands are slick with sweat, my heartbeat a scream in my ears.
Beast’s eyes meet mine, wide, pleading like he wants me to let him take whatever comes.
Fuck that.
Veles senses me a second too late. He turns, but I’m already there, raising the gun, sights lining up with his heart. I remember what Razor taught me and put my finger on the trigger because I have every intention of squeezing.
The shot echoes like the end of the world. Veles stumbles, mouth open in surprise, blood blooming on his shirt. His gun falls and clatters to the floor. He drops to his knees, and then to the ground, staring up at me with disbelief.
In a world filled with so many enemies, I bet he never thought it would be a little bookworm like me who would end him.
The remaining Russians scatter, panicked, leaving the dead and dying behind as they flee into the rain-soaked alley.
And then there’s only silence.
I freeze. The gun slips from my fingers.
My body is shaking so hard I can barely stay upright and I can’t seem to catch my breath.
Beast is at my side in two strides, arms coming around me, crushing me to his chest. I sob into his skin, breathing the wild, calming scent of him, the taste of tears and sweat on my lips.
He presses his forehead to mine, voice thick and rough. “My God, woman, you are fierce. You did good, baby. You did good. Don’t look at him. Keep your eyes on me. That’s it. Keep them right here.” His hands take my face and he softly holds me to him. “You saved us both.”
“It was you or him,” I whisper, voice wrecked. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I just found you.”
He wipes blood and tears from my face, eyes shining with something fierce and infinite. “And I just found you. I didn’t know I needed someone like you in my life. Now I don’t want to know another day without you. If that’s something you want.”
I give a watery laugh, my lips trembling. “Do you believe in love at first sight? Because I think I do.”
He smiles, bruised and beautiful. “I didn’t before you.”
He lifts me, carrying me through the destruction left behind by men who knew nothing but greed and death. They died in the same form that they lived.
“Wait! Take me back to the living room.” He walks us over and I grab the stack of papers, tucking them close to my chest. I nearly died multiple times for this information. I’m not going to lose it now.
I cling to Beast and keep my face buried in his neck as the world outside washes away the blood and horror.
“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough with tenderness.
I raise my gaze to his.
“Don’t worry about them. They got what they had coming.”
“I know, but still.” Having to hurt people when all I wanted in life was to heal and help others tears at my soul.
“I know, baby. We’ll get through this together.”
I feel hope settle deep inside me like a solid, unbreakable shield. For the first time, I know what it is to truly belong and to fight for love.