by Nicole Snow
Time to move. I raised my hand and two men scuttled, quickly lowering the little raft into the churning sea below. We all slid down the rope after them, packing it full. The motor roared alive. Fucking thing kicked like a mule as we cut through the darkness, straight toward destiny.
Nikolai carried the grappling hook. When the front of our raft tapped Rossini's ship and the motor was killed, and the hook flew high in the air, attaching to the ship with a thunk. I was the first one to scurry up the thick rope, throwing myself aboard the deck.
“Shit! Intruder!” A voice screamed in the darkness, way too fucking close for my liking.
A stream of bullets from my automatic cut the fuck in two the instant he was in my sights. The fuckers were no sloths, though. I hit the cold metal floor as suppression fire came my way.
One of my men got hit clambering up the ship. Poor fucker's scream was cut off long before he toppled back into the waves, dead in an instant. Hoped like hell we'd get at least four out of seven up here. Rossini had a small advantage in numbers, but we had surprise on our side, and we used it like a five dollar whore.
The assholes weren't expecting a full on assault by more than a couple guys, much less at night. Gunfire rattled the entire ship, lighting up the night all directions. One thing was for sure: after tonight, this fucking ship was never gonna carry a millionaire client again. They'd be lucky if a few floors and walls escaped being turned to Swiss cheese.
“Keep your fire hot, boys. I'm going in for the big target.” I tapped my radio on my collar and ran, crouching low and weaving close to the scant storage containers on deck for cover.
One lucky hit would've put me down. The assholes kept firing my way even when my boys trained all their fire on the upper deck, but I wasn't stopping for nothing.
It was all in destiny's hands now. Besides, the desperation in their shots told me I was heading the right way, closer to the man they were protecting. Closer to my woman.
I hit the floor and rolled just inches from the door. A fat round zipped past my head, screaming like an angry hawk.
My rifle cracked the glass window and I reached in to unlock it from the other side. One quick jerk of the knob and I pushed in.
Gunfire continued exploding behind me. Thank fuck we were so far out to sea the Coast Guard wasn't likely to come sniffing around so far from the Jersey shore during a storm.
I ran down the hall, turning tight corners and aiming my gun at the empty spaces. The fuckers above must've been overwhelmed with the battle, directing all their manpower there to fight my boys. I still expected Rossini to have a few guards somewhere below decks.
So far, nothing.
I stopped outside a gold plated door that could only belong to the chief asshole. Pressing my ears to the it, I listened for voices, hoping to hear somebody inside I could kill or rescue.
It took about a minute. There!
I'd recognize the faint, unmistakable pitch of Anna's voice anywhere. She was talking to her old man in hushed, scared whispers.
Fuck. She was gonna be terrified when I broke down the damned door and swung my gun at his rotten face, but prolonging this shit a second longer than necessary would only make things worse.
No more delays. I twisted my rifle high overhead and smashed it against the door as hard as I could.
Anna screamed. Rossini yelled and there was a blur of fierce blue motion as I broke in.
The old goat was a quicker draw than I ever would've guessed. I saw the bastard for the first time since I'd had a knife to his evil throat. Only this time I had my rifle pointed at him, ready to cut his guts in two, more than a match for the pitiful nine millimeter he aimed at my chest.
The armor underneath my jacket would let me absorb a shot. I doubted he'd thought that far ahead.
“Drop the fucking weapon now, asshole,” I growled. “Whatever's gonna happen between us, you let her go. She doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire.”
Old man Rossini stared me down. His lips twitched. He said nothing as his hand went down, lowering the gun. I nodded, satisfied, and was about to pull the trigger when Anna moved, stepping diagonal away from her corner.
Okay, whatever. The girl deserved a few seconds to get in another room before I turned the fuck-face who'd raised her into gory mush.
I watched her sweet fucking body cross one half of the room and stop. Right in front of my gun.
“What the fuck? Move, Anna.” My heart dived in my chest and came back up like a rocket.
She stared at me with hard, conflicted eyes, just standing right in front of her old man. Fuck!
Girl left me no goddamned choice but to lower my gun.
Then she said the words that ripped into my soul. “You can't shoot him, David. Tell your men to put a stop to this fighting.”
I looked at her a good long minute. I was shaking my head before the words reached my lips. Christ, what the fuck had he done to her here? Did some asshole crack her on the head when she was taken from the casino? Had she forgotten what he was, the fact that he'd tried to off her himself?
“Babe, I dunno what you're thinking, but you need to step aside right now.” I paused, listening to the distant explosions above us. There weren't nearly as many as before, which told me my boys had made good progress.
She didn't move. There was a strange, almost creepy, calm about her, a determination to prevent two worlds from colliding and blasting each other apart forever. My hand twitched on the rifle, but fuck me if I could lift it up again.
Not while she was standing there, putting herself in harm's way.
This is bullshit! I wanted to scream. Nothing but pure, mad, absolute bullshit when we were a dick hair away from finishing this shit for good.
Anna swallowed hard, a thick knot sliding down her pretty throat. If it wasn't for the confusion, my dick would've jerked, imagining my mouth kissing its way down her neck, calming her the best way I knew how.
Shit, what I wouldn't have given to make that work here. I had to speak to her instead, coax it out of her.
“What's going on, Anna? Give it to me straight. Why're you protecting this sonofabitch?”
“Because you didn't tell me how deep this shitty blood war goes!” She spat. “Your Uncle raped and killed my mother. Why? Why didn't you tell me the fucking truth?”
Fuck! She had every right to be pissed. I knew about the killing many years ago, one of the most brutal hit jobs Uncle Igantiev had ever done. Hadn't known it was Rossini's old lady, or that he'd had his way with her.
I had no illusions, family or not. My Uncle was a cruel motherfucker, but the ice cold blood usually served him well. Too bad I never imagined I'd be paying for his fuckup like this.
For the first time in a long damned while, I hung my fucking head, ashamed of the dead patriarch.
“Babe, I didn't have all the details. I heard about what happened, but I didn't know it was your Ma. You gotta believe me.” I gently released the rifle, let it clatter on the floor. “Fine. You have it your way. I'm not gonna light this room up like I planned. I won't put a bullet through this asshole's head if you don't want me to.”
There. It was out, and my whole mouth tasted like a desert.
Tears filled her eyes. Her rosy cheeks were bright red with rage and confusion. She stepped backward when I approached, right into her old man's arms.
Bastard. You've got her all twisted around, loving your evil old ass when there's no good reason. You better count your lucky fucking stars this girl's got me by the balls, or you'd have half your blood emptied out on the floor by now.
His hands squeezed her shoulders. Asshole had a cocky expression on his face I wanted to knock right off so bad. I made sure not to look at the rifle at my feet, the only thing I could do to fight the temptation to break my promise.
“You heard my very wise Annaliza, Strelkov,” Rossini said. “Leave this ship in peace and call off your men. You let us go and we can forget this whole awful business. It's not too late. We've ha
d enough casualties for one evening.”
No fucking way. I raised my fists, feeling the same tomato hue on my girl burning up my skin. The raw power throttling my veins made me feel like a walking bomb.
“No. This ends here one way or another. One of us isn't coming out of here alive. All this fucked up history's put us right where we are now, but it can't keep going, motherfucker.” I took a step forward.
Rossini shrugged his shoulders and stepped out from behind his daughter. I didn't stop or take a step back, even when I saw the gun in his hands, pointed at my heart.
Fucker was about to fire, and I was ready to take it. If Anna had made her choice, then she'd watch me die, watch my heart pour blood all over this tile, dying like the love we were supposed to have.
“Do it, asshole,” I growled. “Put it right here.”
I pulled on the tight fabric clinging to my chest. A few straps tore beneath my fingers, and the kevlar vest clattered to the ground. I was bare, exposed, ready to let hot lead rip through my ribs.
My hateful eyes softened, turning to my girl. “Love you, Anna. Love you more than this fucked up life itself.”
Rossini smiled. I could practically hear my heartbeat ticking like a clock as his finger tightened on the trigger.
“Dad! No!” Anna saw it just in time.
She threw herself at him and knocked the gun to the floor with a nano-second to spare. His shot went off wild, hit the ceiling, scattering shrapnel across the room. She hit the floor, chasing the gun, and snatched it up before he realized what happened.
I watched her turn it on him, flailing as she took a long step back toward the chairs screwed into the floor by the suite's fireplace.
“Annaliza?” Genuine shock filled Rossini's voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
I took a step forward, only a few feet from the asshole. Anna's eyes were wild. She spun again, turning the gun back on me for a second, then back on her old man, where she held it.
“Don't fucking move! Both of you!”
Shit. I rooted my feet to the floor and stared the dickhead in front of me down. Sonofabitch was hurting her right in front of me, playing his mind games, and I couldn't do a damned thing. It was all up to her own heart and brain now.
She needed to make the choice. Hers. Not his greedy old ass playing her like a fiddle. And if it wasn't me she was gonna pick, then I wanted to be six foot under, free from living without her sweet curves against me.
“Go on, Annaliza. You've made your choice. You know the truth. Shoot him!” Old man Rossini barked. He pointed at me. “The man who killed your mama and almost made me kill you is standing right there! Put him down like the feral mutt all Strelkov men are cursed to be!”
Anna pointed the gun away from both of us. She was practically climbing the wall next to the fireplace with her back up against it, aiming at an empty space, adrift between two worlds. At last, she turned to me, without moving the gun.
“He didn't do it, Dad. I can't hold him responsible for something another man did just because they were related. I can blame him for his lies, his half-truths, his mistakes...but only his. Not his family's.” She turned to her father, letting the gun's aim fall to the floor. “I can't kill the man I love more than any other.”
If my heart wasn't filling up with pride and relief, I would've laughed at her old man's expression. The fuck's jaw nearly hit the floor and shattered to smithereens, leaving nothing but his devil black eyes staring at the dark seas through the window above us, engulfing his fucked up expectations.
Expectations? Hell no.
His whole fucking world was gone, and he still hadn't said a word when she walked over to me, stepping deep into my embrace. I almost squeezed the fucking life outta her. Had to keep one eye on the fuck to make sure he wasn't moving.
“I...I can't do it,” she whispered in my ear, pressing the nine millimeter into my fist. “Do it for me, David. I see what he is now. Just don't make me look.”
“You'll regret this for the rest of your life, ungrateful little bitch!” Her old man snarled, taking a step forward, emboldened with rage. “You had one chance to end this miserable affair and do me proud, and you just tossed it to the winds! Looks like it's all up to me after all...I'll gut you both.”
I shouldn't have let the asshole say another word. He moved way fucking faster than anything I gave him credit for. In one wink, he plucked a switchblade from his pocket and lunged, aiming straight for Anna.
I threw her to the floor, gripped the gun, and fired.
Perfect fucking shot.
The fire in his demon eyes went out as the bullet pierced his skull. He stopped in mid-step, dropped the knife, and fell backward, flat on his dead ass.
Anna screamed a second later, and then screamed again when she realized what had happened. I dropped the gun and hit the floor, taking one more satisfied look at the motherfucker I'd killed.
“It's okay, baby girl. You chose right.” I pulled her close, forcibly tipping her head away from the dead man, pushing it into my chest.
Her eyes were huge. Scared. Before she could make another sound, I smashed my lips to hers, burying all her senses and mine in a world consuming kiss.
It's all over. Everything except you and I. All you gotta worry about for the rest of your sweet life is handling these lips and settling into these guns when I wrap 'em around you.
My thoughts were going nuts as I squeezed her tight. I kissed her, not letting up, cradling her in my arms. I kissed her and wouldn't let go 'til she started to soften, and I still poured on the heat, wiping away the death and violence with pure passion, all I had to give her.
We were fused together, tangled up on the floor in the same damned kiss when my boys broke through the door a minute later. Nikolai took one look at the dead asshole a few feet away, then at the two of us, and nodded.
“Bozhe Moi. Fucking finally. It's done.”
Fuck it, I lied. Sure, I was done spilling blood with old man Rossini and his crew sunk beneath the waves. But the emotional scars that SOB left on my wife wouldn't be wiped clean so easy.
It wasn't really over. Not by fucking half.
After I got her on my boat and had the boys rig up Rossini's yacht with explosives, sending his ass to the grave of fire and ice he deserved, all my attention was on her.
We were back in the casino suite by morning. Anna hadn't moved a muscle since she collapsed in my arms, flopping down into a deep long sleep the second an aide took her to the room. I washed away the blood and sweat of battle in a long hot shower, then joined her, pulling her close.
My arms stayed around her all damned night.
Nobody was gonna hurt her or fuck with her head again. I'd nearly lost her to that savage and my own lying ass on the yacht, and that shit was never gonna happen again.
I had to make her know the time for dark secrets and half-assed omissions was done. I had to make her realize that she was mine, damn it, mine 'til I was as dead and gone as her old man, mine 'til I saw her smile a hundred times for very fucking tear I'd pulled from her eyes.
Mine because I was her entire damned world now, lover and guardian and best friend, everything a normal husband was supposed to be.
Too bad this would never be an ordinary marriage. We killed and loved harder than the ninety-nine percent of the boring world outside, true. In the end, it didn't really fucking matter.
If there was a way to bring peace to her heart and make her forget the pain and blood that dead motherfucker had caused her, I was gonna find it. I'd prove my demon ass to her by proving she didn't have a single thing to worry about anymore.
The blood stained past was behind us, and God willing, it was gonna stay that way.
In the morning, I woke to her stirring in my arms. I breathed deep, inhaling her scent, wondering how the fuck she still smelled so good after all that.
Shouldn't a girl smell like sulfur after being plunged as deep in hell as her?
“Hey,” I whispered, wrapping m
y arms tighter, pulling her close. “You feeling better today?”
She stared at me with the same cold eyes as yesterday, dark and uncertain.
“I can't believe he's gone, David. Can't believe you did what you did...”
“Believe it, babe. All that shit's over, now and forever. We can finally get on with our lives.” My jaw tightened up when I felt her shake. “Don't waste time mourning his evil ass. Father or not, the man was a bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. I'd kill that fuck a hundred times over for what he did to you, love. Anything for our future.”
She snorted. “And what kinda future is that? I don't even know my past and I'm not sure about my present. Where am I going if I don't know who the hell I am? Where I belong?”
Hard questions deserve hard fucking answers. Growling, I yanked her closer, burying her pretty face in my chest. Then I leaned to her ear, oozing hot breath several times before I spoke, focused on burning away the chill inside her.
“You listen to me, Anna. I'll tell you exactly who you are: you're a fucking Strelkov now. Says it right there on the legal papers I signed when you thought I was Satan. You're my wife, a babe. Mine and only fucking mine. I'm giving you a second chance, a whole life to figure out who you want to be, as long as you're here, right where you belong.”
She released a soft moan as my hands clasped her ass and squeezed, rolling her hips into mine.
Mine. Fuck yeah, I said it a lot, and I'd keep on saying it too.
Every time I said that damned word, my fire crackled higher, brighter, more certain than ever before. Hearing it, saying it, feeling it reminded me I was duty bound to keep this girl's heart in one piece, forever bound to – you guessed it – mine.
“You wanna know where you're supposed to be? Who you are?” I brushed my stubble against her cheek, satisfied when she gave a little shiver. “You already know you're pressed up against me. Stop acting like you don't have a fucking clue. And if you need a reminder, just lay back and listen to my dick. You feel that, baby girl? You get it now?”
I thrust my hips, rocking deliciously against hers, dragging my length right against her mound, hoping to graze her clit.