“Guácala.” I make a face. There’s blood everywhere.
“Aiden?” Sara says, voice cracking. “Are you injured?”
“Get the fuck out,” he barks over his shoulder, a rabid boar, a caged beast. He pounds the side of his fist on the bathroom door. “Alina.” His voice has begun to rise and my right knee threatens to give out. I’ve never heard him yell before and the sound is fucking blood curdling.
Just behind Aiden now, Clifton claps him on the shoulder. “Aiden, let Sara look at you…” Without giving Clifton the time to finish his statement, Aiden turns, grabs his twin by the throat and shoves him back. The whole wall shudders beneath the weight of Clifton’s body.
“I said leave.” Aiden’s skin seems to sizzle like a sidewalk in the sun. He’s got what’s either densely congealed blood, dirt, or brain matter spattered across his shirt and darker streaks of blood weeping down his right leg. He favors his right arm, but has no problem pummeling Clifton with his left.
I raise my gun as Clifton fights to pry his brother’s fingers away from his throat, but Aiden isn’t fazed. On the contrary, I can see him squeezing harder and harder.
“Sara,” I rasp, but when I turn she’s gone. Hell, I don’t blame her. “Aiden, let go of him!”
He doesn’t turn. He doesn’t even blink. Clifton’s dropped his weapon somewhere along the way which means that it’s up to me now to kill his brother. Fucking cabrón. Carajo. Chinga tu madre. “Aiden, lo juro por Dios, don’t test me. I will pull the fucking trigger. One,” I start to count.
As Clifton’s face turns from white to red to purple, Aiden looks at me and says, “I should have killed you when he asked.” I lick my lips, knowing that if he had come for me I wouldn’t have stood a chance. That thought terrifies me, but not half as much as his interest in this girl does. Whatever she did to attract his attention, I pity her for it.
I have no response, other than to flip off the safety and squeeze the trigger tighter. The gun in my hand is about to pop off, but Aiden’s life is spared by Sara, the only one who seems to be perpetually saving lives in a house full of murderers. She doesn’t give me the chance to respond – or kill anyone – when she flies into the room with a box of medical supplies in her arms.
I reach out to catch her, but she bullets past me and heads straight for the homicidal maniac and a half-dead Clifton hanging from Aiden’s hands against the wall. As if she doesn’t even notice them there, she walks straight towards the bathroom door with purpose in her step. Aiden’s gaze follows her as she swivels past him. All at once, he drops Clifton and moves to bar her path with the full breadth of his body.
“What are you doing?”
Sara looks up at him. Straight up. He and his brother are the same height but he looks so much taller. Like three of him would fill up the whole goddamn room. And Sara looks so small. I swear to God if he touches her…I keep my weapon level and trained on his chest. I’m not a good enough shot to maim him, so if I pull the trigger, it’s likely he’ll die.
“I’m not here for you,” she says. Her pitch is high and breathy and is the only thing that betrays her fear. “Seeing how things are going it’s probably safe for me to assume you haven’t gotten her out of those clothes like I asked. And given your bedside manner it’s not a shock she locked herself in the bathroom. She’s probably freezing and hysterical.”
She glances back at Clifton, limping slowly up off of the floor. He massages his neck and coughs several times while the blood filters from his forehead to his chest, snaking past the collar of his destroyed tee shirt.
The chill in Aiden’s expression lingers and he remains fixed in front of the door. He glares down at her, eyes narrowed slits, shoulders tense and full, hands balled. And then a small, soft, almost inaudible sound breaks up the silence: a whimper. I can hear it, which means Aiden can definitely hear it, but I knew that already. His whole damn body reacts. His neck twitches and he glances over his shoulder. Then he steps to the side to let Sara pass.
“You hurt her and I’ll…” he says as Sara reaches for the door handle.
“I know. I heard you in the car.” She glances up at him, gulps and says weakly, “I won’t. I won’t hurt her.” She knocks on the door and when there’s no answer, tries the knob. “Alina?”
Russian words float through the wood. They’re pitchy and Aiden’s whole body jerks. “Open the fucking door.” He slams the flat of his hand against it and more whimpering follows.
Sara steps away from the door and gestures at the knob. “Open it,” she says to Aiden. “She’s not going to open it for us.”
It takes him a half second to react. Likely, he’s surprised by her. Hell, we all are. Aiden’s hand molds around the knob and when he presses forward with what looks like the smallest amount of energy, the whole thing crumbles under his touch. Wood shards fall to the ground as dust.
He stands aside to let Sara move forward and plants himself in the doorway so that none of us can follow her in. Like this, I can see the reflection of his face in the mirror. It’s brutal and haunting in all but the eyes. As he glances around the frame of the door, seeing something I can’t, and for just a moment those gripping grey eyes…well, they soften. Or maybe it’s just a trick of the light.
“Hey, hey.” I can hear Sara’s tenderness and I wish it were closer, that I might feel it too. “My name is Sara.” Clack, clack. Her box of supplies opens. “You’re Alina Popov. You’re in a bunch of the tabloids and fashion magazines I read. I’m a doctor. Well, I’m an intern, a paramedic, and a med student. So I’m going to be a doctor. And I’m just going to give you a little something to calm you down before we get you out of those wet clothes and into something warm and dry…”
There’s a woman’s shriek followed by commotion. Sara calls my name and I start forward while an unfamiliar voice cries, “Nyet! Nyet. Bajalsta, nyet. No drugs…bajalsta…”
I dip beneath Aiden’s arm and surge into the bathroom at the same time the future unfolds before me: Sara’s got a syringe in hand, the cold, wet stranger dressed in black is wedged between the wall and the toilet and right now she doesn’t want the drugs Sara’s offering and Aiden is looking at her like he’s going to make sure that Sara bends to Alina’s will.
He rips a gun off of his back and when he steps towards Sara, Clifton drags himself forward, but Clifton’s no match for Aiden and neither am I and very soon, Sara is going to meet a short sweet end.
“No!” My voice stalls the moment just long enough to keep Sara alive. “Sara, put the needle down now.” Sara looks from the girl to me to the needle in her hand, finally up to Aiden. She’s squatting but the sight of Aiden throws her back onto her ass against the shower door. The needle tumbles from her hand.
“See? She’s not going to hurt her.” I take a step back and put my body between Aiden and Sara and the girl using the toilet as a shield. Heat radiates from Aiden’s body, from his expression. The bathroom is tiny and I’m very close to him now. Close enough to touch but I don’t dare.
“He’s not going to hurt you,” I say, angling my body to the side so I can speak to Alina directly while keeping an eye on Aiden. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
She shivers so aggressively it looks like her long, lean limbs will fall off and then she’ll disintegrate, becoming nothing more than a smear against all that marble. She places her elbow on the lip of the toilet and covers her face with her hand. Behind those long, slender fingers, we can all hear her crying.
When Aiden starts forward, I brace my shoulder against his chest and dig the balls of my feet into the cold stone floor and he’d have still taken me out if it hadn’t been for Clifton’s arm circling Aiden’s neck. Alina hiccups and starts crying harder, flinching away dramatically when Sara extends a tentative hand.
“No one fucking touch her,” Aiden spits. He’s foaming at the mouth and I know that the outcome of all of our evenings depends on the next few seconds, which is why I leave it in Sar
a’s hands. She opens her mouth to speak and I nod vigorously, urging her on.
“I’m not going to hurt her, like Mer said,” Sara says too loud, like she’s incapable of controlling the volume of her pitch. “But I…I need Mer’s help to undress her and get her into clean clothes. Can she borrow some of yours, Aiden?” Sara always knows the right thing to say because the murder clouding Aiden’s face clears, albeit slowly. In one motion, he twists from Clifton’s grip and shoves his brother backwards and onto the bedroom floor.
Aiden stands there for a moment, allowing long, labored breath to pour in and out of his lungs. He looks to his feet, and then flinches towards the girl as she moans. “Touch her only to change her.” His voice is a quiet command.
Sara nods. “I won’t do anything else.”
“What does she need?”
For the first time in minutes, Sara exhales. “Just some…some sweatpants and a tee shirt. A sweatshirt if you have. Just something comfortable and warm.”
Aiden leaves and returns with what Sara asked for. Everything is large and black and sure to engulf Alina. For as tall as she is, she sure is thin. Aiden stands in the doorway with his arms crossed and watches as Sara and I approach the girl in the corner. Behind him, Clifton’s got his gun in hand and the safety is off. I gulp hard, sweat beading along my hairline and running down the back of my neck as I wade towards this beautiful Russian girl across the bathroom floor like I’m crossing a field of landmines.
“Alina?” Sara squats down in front of the girl. Several times, she glances over her shoulder, blonde hair swinging as she tries to gauge just how close she is to death. “I swear on my baby boy’s life that we aren’t here to harm you in any way. We’re women after all and dating two of the men who stay in this house.”
It doesn’t seem to appease Alina because she shrieks when Sara touches her ankle. Aiden’s body bucks, but he catches himself on the sink instead of coming towards us. “Let me go. Bajalsta.”
“Alina, you know that there are other bad men looking for you and that no one in this house will hurt you. You are safe here. What are you afraid of?”
“Sell me…” The words are slight and squeezed out between pursed lips.
Aiden slams his fist on the mirror, sending a crack rippling across its surface. “No one’s going to fucking sell you.”
“What interest could we have in your body?” Sara says on top of Aiden’s voice. She throws him an irritated glance, but doesn’t go so far as to rebuke him.
“Money,” Alina moans. She’s buried in her knees so that all I see of her is the top of her head, hair frazzled and the color of cranberry. “Always money.”
“Have you seen this house? They don’t need more money, sweetheart.” Sara smiles and for a moment the expression manages to appear foreign. I can’t remember the last smile I saw even though it couldn’t have happened more than a few hours ago. Might as well have been lifetimes.
Alina starts to weep again and this time when Sara comes towards her and touches her shin, she doesn’t scream or fight or flee. Sara glances at me with a sense of urgency – as if this is the only moment like this we’ll get – so I follow her lead and reach into the narrow hovel and scoop Alina up by the armpits.
Her skin is cold enough for me to want to cringe away from her and for her to cringe away from me. She hisses through her teeth when we deposit her on the top of the toilet seat and drape towels over the mass of her hair. She’s light. Scary light, even in all the wet clothes. Long and lithe and lean. Her face tilts to the side, neck like a string with no tether. I hold her head upright and she cries into my palm.
She says, “Gavriil,” and then “Timur,” and then more words in Russian.
When Sara pulls Alina’s damp shirt off over her head and hands me a towel, I’m distracted from the task at hand by Aiden grunting, “Don’t look. Close your fucking eyes.”
I don’t understand what he means or how I’m meant to change her with my eyes shut, but when I turn, I see Clifton standing beside his brother, expression too lax for me to think he’s only there to keep us alive. He’s gotten a glimpse of the girl and for just a second both men have never looked more alike. Like they’ve both been hit with fairy dust and can’t remember where they are. Then Clifton looks up as Aiden shoves him back through the door.
“I can’t leave you inside alone with those women,” Clifton snarls, surging back across the threshold.
“You don’t have any other choice, brother.” Aiden sneers.
“Aiden.” That’s all the warning Clifton gives before he shoves his way past his brother’s body. Maybe this type of shit would have flown in Dixon’s suite, but in here there’s a standing shower with a glass wall a toilet and a sink. Nothing else. So when Aiden retaliates, Clifton’s spine meets the towel rack. The whole thing comes down with a clatter and Alina releases a small, sad cry. In a dry tee shirt with a sweatshirt that entirely engulfs her, she leans into Sara’s body and hides her face in the darkness of her stomach.
“Stup,” she moans and Aiden freezes with his fist cocked.
He turns towards her and damn he’s close – just about against my body and close enough to her that her bunched knees are separated from his thighs by less than two feet. Aiden looks down at the gap, jaw relaxing for the first time in minutes – hours, years – then at her face.
So slowly that time itself seems to hold its breath, she twists out from the safety of her sleeve and Sara’s shirt to look up at him. No force on earth could have had the same effect: He staggers back and Clifton catches him. “Woah, Aiden.”
“I’m going to strip her out of her pants now,” Sara says, and with implication. She gives Aiden a truly vicious glower. Truly, a mother.
Aiden isn’t alarmed by it, but finds his footing and shoves his shoulder against Clifton’s. “Turn around,” he orders, “and close your eyes.”
Clifton shoots Aiden a fiery look, but he doesn’t resist this time. In the mirror, I see pale eyelids close over warm grey. Aiden does not do the same, but watches with clinical focus as I help Alina stand while Sara undoes the buttons at Alina’s waist. He’s leaning on his brother and when Alina’s pants come down his injured leg bends. Clifton’s legs plant into the ground like the roots of trees as Aiden slumps further onto him, a vicissitude of weakness and resistance. Blood puddles around his feet and I wonder if that’s why his face goes grey.
I step in front of Alina as Sara pulls down the girl’s underwear, shielding her from Aiden’s gaze. He clears his throat behind me. “Sara,” he barks.
“Yes?” She looks up and hands me a towel when Aiden doesn’t immediately speak. I wrap it around Alina’s waist and do my best to hold her up with one hand and with the other, dry her frozen, trembling thighs. Red flowers everywhere I touch and she doesn’t stop crying.
Aiden cocks his head and Sara comes towards him – closer than I would have dared. He whispers directly into her ear, so low I can’t hear what he says.
“I’ll find out.” She nods, returning to Alina’s side, and helps me help the girl into sweatpants before taking a towel to her hair. Flakes of ice cling to the waist-length tendrils. Sara tries to comb her fingers through them and after a few minutes, manages to get Alina’s hair into two French braids.
“Not sure how you handle this all on your own,” she says lightly as we lead Alina out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Aiden backs up in front of us, dragging Clifton with him. Both boys hover on the other side of the bed as we slide her into it and beneath the covers. Her bottom jaw continues to rap against the top and she hasn’t stopped shaking. This time, I start to think it’s more than just the cold. I stand back, wanting to give her and Sara space.
Sara leans over her and brushes her delicate fingers over the girl’s speckled forehead. “Your hair kind of reminds me my baby’s. His name is Brant. He’s mixed too, though I’m not totally sure with what. When I don’t brush his hair out it goes poof.” She holds her hands
out wide. “Completely nuts.” She smiles down at the girl who does nothing but shake, and frowns.
Using her most placating tone, she eventually draws the blankets down from Alina’s chest. Alina covers her face with her hands and I look at the wall switch, still taped. Aiden hesitates towards it, but in the end, remains where he is with his arms crossed over his chest and brow furrowed furiously. He looks pained and it has nothing at all to do with the wound in his leg or the crimson crust decorating his tee shirt’s right shoulder.
“Now Alina, will you just tell me if this hurts?” She lifts the hem of the girl’s sweatshirt and it doesn’t take a genius to decipher what she’s searching for as her fingers probe Alina’s lower abdomen. She doesn’t respond except to shake and cry. “How about here?” Sara moves down towards Alina’s hips.
Alina kicks her legs, throwing the sheets onto the floor and curls onto her side. “I wasn’t raped,” she moans. “I’m still…still virgin. I…I still make you millions…” Her sweatshirt lifts – she’s got freckles on her back – and her accent only serves to make her even more exotic. From the little I know of the sex trade, she’s exactly right. Some freak would pay premium for her.
“Hey,” Sara says. I grab the blankets and help tuck them around Alina gently. It does no good. “Hey, I told you, no one is here to sell you. I just wanted to be sure there was no internal bleeding. That you are okay.”
“I’m not okay.” Her tone rises and she buries her face directly into the pillow. “Timur,” she shrieks and her body spasms. A sob roars through her and Sara stands back with her hands on her head.
She’s got tears glossing her eyes and I’m worried for her in ways I wasn’t. The night has been too overwhelming and little Alina is too much. “I’ve got to give her something.” She speaks to Aiden. I would too. “I need to stitch you and Clifton, but I can’t leave her here like this. Not like this…Just let me get the sedative. It’s mild. She’ll fall right asleep with no side effects.”
The Hunting Town (Brothers Book 1) Page 34