by Shandi Boyes
It was only during my discussions with Rico and Erik did reality for what Rico did for me finally dawn on my tired brain. I’ve been devastated the past two and a half months, believing Rico didn’t love me. Where, in reality, he loved me so much he sacrificed his own happiness to save me. Once Katie is safe, I’ll find a way to do the same for him.
I jump out of my skin when my cell phone unexpectedly dings, announcing I have a new text message.
“Sorry,” I apologize to Brent when my startled reaction alarms him. Once Brent swings his irate gaze back to scanning the street, I drop my eyes to my phone.
Lacey: How’s the date going? Need me to call in back up?
A grin curls onto my lips. The only way I could get Lacey off my back when I called to say I wouldn’t be home tonight was by pretending I was going on an intimate date. I thought Lacey would have heard the deceit in my voice, but with my emotions still running high from being in Rico’s presence, no deceit could be found.
Me: It’s going well. Now, shush, I’m busy. . .
Lacey: Don’t forget protection!
Her text is aiming for playful, but it causes a stabbing pain to hit the middle of my chest. It’s my own fault, though. No one is aware I’m pregnant—not even Rico. For some inane reason, I wanted to tell Rico in a non-volatile environment. Considering our last four hours have been spent surrounded by members of a dangerous mob, I kept my mouth shut tight.
After rubbing my knuckles over the tightness in my chest, I quickly type out a message.
Me: I’ve got it covered.
Lacey: Good girl. TTYL.
Me: Bye.
I shut down my phone and shove it into my clutch purse thrown on the floor.
“How long do these things normally take?” I ask Brent, my words garbled with suspense.
He turns his eyes from the poorly lit street to me. “It would be a whole lot quicker if I wasn’t stuck babysitting my boss’s girlfriend.”
Okay. Apparently he isn’t happy with Rico’s decision.
Before I have the chance to respond to his snide comment—or correct him that I'm Rico’s wife—the brightness of headlights illuminates the cabin of the Escalade. My already agile heart rate kicks up a notch when the SUV with gun-wielding men hanging on the side mounts the curb and pulls into the front yard of Katie’s house.
Time comes to a standstill when Rico curls out of the passenger seat with two semi-automatic weapons clasped in his hands. He’s wearing his regular attire I saw him leave for work in every day I was at the compound: a crisp black suit, but he's minus the tie he was wearing earlier. Even with tension hanging thick in the air, just the sight of Rico hampers my ability to secure a full breath. Tonight, he's the very definition of dark and dangerous rolled into one undoubtedly beautiful package.
Like I’m sitting front row at an action flick, the scene unfolds before my very eyes in slow motion. Guns flare, bullets are dislodged, and men fall to the ground. Normally, this type of incident would have my stomach twisted in knots, but tonight I feel different. I don’t know if it's because revenge is finally being served to the men who hurt Katie and me ten years ago, or because Vegas did truly screw with my mind. But since now is not an appropriate time to evaluate my sudden shift to the dark side, I leash my feelings for a more fitting time.
As Rico moves closer to the residence, I keep my eyes locked on him while the same prayer plays on repeat through my mind: that both he and Katie get out of this alive and in one piece. The awful anxiety I felt when I first saw Katie returns the closer Rico gets to the heavily manned residence. I push aside the uneasiness swirling my stomach, downplaying it as my pregnancy playing havoc with my emotions.
Seconds feel like hours when Rico and his men enter the derelict house. Although the scene is nowhere near as ghastly as it was when they first arrived, the air has an eerie feeling to it that makes my skin crawl. Ignoring the niggling feeling in the back of my head that something bad is about to happen, I focus my attention on scanning the face of every man emerging from the house, seeking Rico amongst the group.
I inhale my first full breath when Rico walks out of the property moments later with a wide-eyed and clearly startled Katie in his arms. Gratefulness swells my heart and tears well in my eyes.
Not thinking, I throw open the door of the Escalade and race towards them. My fast speed causes tears of happiness to trickle down my cheeks. I hear Rico scream my name, but nothing can slow my brisk pace.
Nothing but a bullet . . .
Chapter 36
Enrique
“Blaire!” I roar when I spot her racing down the cracked sidewalk.
Concern strikes my heart when the moonlight bounces off a stream of tears rolling down her cheeks. A smile stretches across her face as she sprints towards me. Clearly, her tears are tears of happiness not sadness, which eases my anxiety. Although her breathtaking smile is something I’ve craved seeing for weeks, the area isn’t secure enough for her to be out here yet. There are normally lurkers lying in wait for a prime opportunity to take down a major player in our industry. That’s the reason I made her stay with Brent. I shouldn’t have let her come at all. It isn’t safe. But I’m completely lost to this woman.
Even being separated from her for two and a half months didn’t dampen my feelings the slightest. I love her, without a doubt, but that’s the reason I gave her up. She doesn’t belong in my industry, so I did everything in my power to save her from it. I sold my soul to the devil to ensure my ahren didn’t have to live in the depths of hell. I became a man by doing what I should have done the moment she landed in my lap three months ago. I set her free.
It was only during our heart-strangling confrontation earlier tonight did I realize I hadn’t fully saved Blaire from the pits of hell. I partly pushed her into it. I thought I was saving her from a life of misery when I accepted my father’s offer of a full sanction for her. In reality, I made her life miserable.
The pain in her eyes when she told me I stole her right to choose who she can love felt like sustaining a direct hit to my heart. It gutted me even more than seeing her kiss Colt. But in my defense, the hurt Blaire has experienced the past two and a half months is nothing compared to the life she could have faced if I hadn’t forced her decision. I know she's hurting—so am I—but I'll never stop protecting her. I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe. Even sacrificing my own happiness.
When I spot Brent coughing and wheezing as his three-packs-a-day lungs struggle to secure a full breath, I realize he doesn’t have the speed to reach Blaire before she enters a world she doesn’t belong in. Cursing in the night air at Brent’s incompetence, I hand our target, Katie, to Erik.
When I spin back around to face Blaire, the air in my lungs is forcefully removed. Her brisk sprint down the cracked sidewalk halts mid-stride when a bullet rockets through her stomach.
“Blaire!” I roar before executing the man who shot her with a direct hit between his eyes.
He drops to the ground, his eyes still open wide but void of any signs of life. I run to Blaire, only just catching her in my arms before she hits the concrete sidewalk. Bile rises to my throat when the blood gushing from her wound covers my hands in under a second. Her breaths are wheezy and slow as she fights though a torrent of pain rocketing through her body.
When I lay her down on the dew-covered ground, I apply pressure on her stomach. Fear engulfs me when her warm blood gushes between my interlocked fingers. I know all too well that she's mere minutes away from bleeding out.
A gargled groan whimpers through her lips when I increase my pressure on her stomach while yelling, “Get a medic!” at the top of my lungs. “Where's the fucking ambulance?”
Blaire peers up at me with glistening, tear-filled eyes. Her lips twitch, but not a word leaves her blue-tinged mouth.
“Shh, Kitten. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” I murmur when she continues trying to speak.
I crank my neck to the right when a first responder breaks th
e eerie silence enveloping us. Relief washes through me when the visual of an ambulance gliding down the street greets me.
Returning my eyes to Blaire, I murmur, “Help is on the way. Just hold on.”
Tears trickle down her temples as she continues moving her mouth. I slant my head to the side and lean in close to her as my ears struggle to hear the faint word she's whispering on repeat.
Sirens wail, intermingled with whimpers of pain, but the most devastating thing I’ve ever heard shrills through my ears, issuing my heart with another direct hit, when Blaire murmurs, “Baby.”
I pull back and glance into her eyes, certain I haven’t heard her right. Keeping her dilated gaze on me, she moves one of her shaky hands to the bottom of her flat stomach, while her other hand covers my hands vainly trying to stop the blood gushing out of the open wound. Fear encroaches me when I feel how cold her hands are. They feel like ice.
Small droplets of blood splatter her lips when she whispers, “Our baby.”
“Baby? You’re pregnant?”
Dread blackens my blood, scorching my veins with furious heat when Blaire dimly nods. My chest heaves in turmoil as my eyes absorb the amount of blood that has seeped into her shirt. I don’t know anything about pregnancy, but Blaire’s life is already precariously dangling on the edge of a very steep cliff from the amount of blood she has lost, so I can’t stomach what the odds are for our baby to survive such a traumatic injury.
Any chance to ease the lingering fear that our baby has been harmed is lost when her blinks lengthen and her head lolls to the side.
“Blaire!” I shout through the nausea circling my windpipe. “Stay with me, Blaire. Fuck. Please. Stay with me.”
I’m so focused on Blaire, I don’t notice the blackness creeping up on me until it’s too late.
Chapter 37
Blaire
Just like it had following my attack ten years ago, my brain has been operating in lockdown mode the past five days. I’ve drifted in and out of unconsciousness, confused between what is reality and what is a dream. I can’t recall the events leading up to me lying in a hospital bed, but from the ghastly smell and the constant prodding I’ve endured, I know that's where I am.
Fighting against the pleas of my body, I slowly flutter my eyes open. My assumptions are proven accurate when my blurry eyes lock in on an IV stand with one and a half bags of fluid dangling off it. The beeping of monitors filters through my ears, and the swirling of my stomach grows as I scan the sanitary-scented room. From my lowered position, I can see numerous floral arrangements covering every surface and the smallest tuff of inky dark hair resting near my right wrist.
“Rico.” My words come out hoarse, hampered by the scratchy rawness of my throat.
I cough to clear my throat before attempting to speak again. My brittle wheezing through my pained lungs announces my awakened status before another word can seep from my lips. The dark-haired man lifts his head off my bed and swings his eyes around my room. He appears dazed and confused. Against my wishes, disappointment clouds me when the worldly eyes of my dad lock on my confused gaze. I was hoping he was Rico.
“Blaire, honey! You’re awake!” His loud voice adds to the giddiness clustering in my blurry mind.
He shoots out of his chair and races to the corridor more quickly than a sixty-year-old man should move. “Hurry! She’s awake. Blaire’s awake.”
Not even two seconds later, my mom bursts into the room, infusing the ghastly smelling space with her rich wildflower smell. After dumping two vending machine coffees onto a side tray, she stops at the side of my bed. Lacey enters the room soon after my mom, but respectfully gives my mom some space so she can issue her motherly smothering she does every time I’m in her presence.
“You’ve had us worried out of our mind,” my mom mumbles into my hair as she curls her arms around my torso and squeezes me tightly.
I hide the grimace attempting to cross my face from her firm hold when she draws back to peer into my eyes. My confusion deepens when I roam my eyes over her face. I’ve not seen my mom for three months, but she looks like she aged three years in that time. As tears form in her eyes, she runs her hand down the side of my face. She glances into my eyes like she can’t believe I'm in front of her. It takes all my strength to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Once my mom props her backside on the edge of my bed, I drift my eyes between the three sets of eyes staring at me with concern.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice croaky.
My dad moves to the side table to pour me a glass of water. After sipping on enough chilled water to ease the scorching burn in my throat, I bounce my eyes between my parents and Lacey. My brows knit together. They all appear to have aged so much in a short period of time.
My confused eyes rocket to my hospital room door—adding to the giddiness in my head—when it suddenly swings open. An Asian-looking doctor with a kind smile and bright green eyes enters the room carrying a stainless steel clipboard.
“Hello, Blaire, my name is Jae,” she greets me, her voice a unique mix of accents. “I’m the head of surgery at Ravenshoe Private Hospital. It’s great to finally talk to you in person.”
After returning her smile, I ask, “What happened?” I’m not meaning to be rude. I’m just seeking answers to my questions.
Lacey pushes off the door and stands next to Jae. “Blaire’s having a little bit of difficulty with her memory.”
Jae smiles a contrite grin. “That’s understandable. We have had you heavily sedated the past five days.”
Although shocked at her admission I’ve been in hospital for five days, I'm not completely astounded. I feel the most rested I’ve ever felt.
While removing a light from her crisp white doctor’s jacket, Jae moves to the left side of my bed. When she flashes a bright light into my eyes, I inhale a sharp, ragged breath. My mouth falls open as all the events leading up to me being shot flashes before my eyes.
Panic consumes me as my hands dart down to my stomach. “The baby. Is my baby okay?” I ask Jae, dread in my tone.
My parents stare at each other in shock. Their mouths wide, their brows stitched.
When her shock wears off, Lacey squeals, “You’re pregnant?” her voice high in both alarm and excitement.
Tears dribble down my cheek when I nod at the three sets of eyes staring at me. Although their mouths don’t utter a syllable, their eyes are questioning enough.
“Well, I was. . .” Oh god. Please let my baby be okay.
Dr. Jae places her small hand on my forearm, drawing my attention back to her. “Because you’re only a little bit over three months along, the fetus is burrowed deep within your pelvis, happily nestled away from the area the bullet entered your stomach. Since the medics were advised of your condition on arrival, we ensured only pregnancy-approved drugs have been administered to you the past five days. I’ll schedule another scan in a few days, but everything appears to be following the path it should be.”
I snap my eyes shut as sweet relief engulfs me.
My happiness is short-lived when the air shifts so dramatically, a shiver racks through me. Clutching my chest to ensure my wildly beating heart remains in my chest, I slowly open my eyes. A numbness spreads across my chest when I'm met with four sets of eyes staring at me in alarm.
“But. . .” I want to say more, but I can’t force any more words out of my mouth. The tension suffocating the air of oxygen thickens as my concern grows exponentially.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I force out through the painful lump in my throat.
Heaviness slams into my chest when Jae turns to face my parents. “I’ll give you a few moments of privacy. Please be aware Blaire has just awoken after major trauma.”
The beat of my heart merges into dangerous territory, sending the equipment on the side of my bed into alarm. They are the exact words spoken to my parents when they advised me Katie didn’t escape our attackers’ clutches the first time.
&n
bsp; After switching off the wailing alarm, Jae exits the room. I lock my eyes with my dad.
“Katie?” My one word is rickety, coerced through the sob sitting in the back of my throat.
Keeping his worldly eyes connected with my wide gaze, my dad moves to sit in the chair next to my bed. When he curls his hand around mine, the rattle of his hand vibrates all the way up my arm.
His eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Katie is okay. She's safe.”
I sigh in relief as tears of joy roll down my cheeks. My breathing turns labored when my dad adds on, “But Rico. . .”
My eyes rocket to my dad. “No. . . Oh, God, please no,” I beg when my his eyes relay the entire story without another word needing to escape his lips.
My dad scoots to the edge of his chair and stares me straight in the eyes. “He saved you, honey. Rico put himself in the line of fire to save you.”
Pain shreds through my heart, tearing it in two. “No, Daddy, no,” I sob, not wanting to believe the truth beaming from his truthful eyes.
He stands from the chair and bands his arms around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
My heart shatters.
Not partly.
Not slightly.
Wholly.
Epilogue
Four weeks later. . .
News of Rico’s untimely death circulated every news channel in the country the two weeks following his death. Hysteria broke out from the fear his murder would start the equivalent of World War III within the Russian mob. Even the governor urged calm. The only thing that eased the tempestuous waters was when the man who was arrested for killing Rico was found hanging in his prison cell the morning of his arraignment. Suspicions ran high that he too was murdered, but with the surveillance cameras in the local county jail on the fritz, they were only that: simply rumors.