Hurt

by Rachel Van Dyken

  The truck slowed, and I opened the door, rolling from the car and knocking the wind from my chest. But I was more worried about making sure whoever was towing my car didn’t notice my escape.

  Yeah, I wasn’t that lucky.

  The truck’s lights flashed red as it pulled to a quick stop, and two guys got out with guns.

  I ran like hell, gasping for breath that felt like it wasn’t actually making it to my lungs. The world started to close in around me as I forced myself to keep running, even when my peripheral vision faded. The bullet to my leg was what actually saved me, forcing me to snap to consciousness. I stumbled, and as I lay in the wet grass of some Seattle forest, I pulled in the air I so desperately needed.

  The sound of someone running through the woods forced me to stand and continue my escape.

  I never saw the first guy come at me, but his blade almost sliced my neck. When he missed, the knife hit the ground. My mud-caked hands grasped it and plunged it into his chest before he could even fight. Giving it a jarring twist, I watched his face as it clouded in pain before the life faded from his eyes.

  Pulling the knife out, I hid behind a wide tree, trying to quiet my crazy breathing. Soon the other guy came stomping through the underbrush. He wasn’t being cautious, which was to my advantage. The tree gave cover till he was just close enough for me to ambush him.

  The knife sliced through his shoulder but slid from my muddy fingers when it hit the bone. Knife handle jutting from his right shoulder, he raised his gun with his left hand, I ducked and rolled, picking up a thick branch and swinging it at his head.

  The knife wound stopped him from raising his arm to protect his head, and the branch slammed against him, sending him sailing into the mud as the gun dropped from his grasp. I lunged for it, picking it up and trying to steady it through the slippery mud. But the guy wasn’t getting up. I didn’t stick around to find out if he was dead or only unconscious. It took me just a few minutes to get my car off the tow, and I sped home, praying I didn’t see any cops.

  My mom knew enough, seeing my condition as confirmation that my whole plan was shot to hell. Sophia probably knew more than I thought, but it wasn’t from information I’d given her. If I had my way, she’d be in the dark her whole life.

  The way I would have chosen for myself.

  But I didn’t get a choice.

  When they wanted to call Daphne, my heart pounded so hard.

  Anyone but her. Anyone.

  I tried to tell them no, but Jude, damn the guy, was already out the door with my sister.

  Daphne, the freaking last person on earth I wanted to see me in this condition. What was worse? Knowing that the first question she’d ask was why I wasn’t in the hospital… and knowing my sister would be brutally honest.

  It was possible I wouldn’t go jail. But I didn’t trust the other side. I knew the feds would get me out eventually.

  Eventually being the key word.

  I wasn’t going to wait around to find out exactly when… not when I was pretty sure my injuries weren’t life threatening.

  Now, as I watched her carefully pouring hydrogen peroxide on my leg and was trying like crazy to not make sounds when it hurt like hell, I was rethinking my decision.

  Damn pride.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her dark green eyes mirroring every emotion.

  “Great.” If you consider burning alive good.

  She nodded, a curl from her flaming red hair falling forward and resting against her cheek. My fingers itched to touch it, to brush it against her face and tuck it behind her ear. Was her skin as soft as it appeared to be?

  “You’re staring.”

  “Sorry.” I cleared my throat and gave my attention to the wounded skin.

  “Are you almost done?” I asked, just wanting to make conversation to hear the sound of her voice once more.

  Her hands caught my attention as she dipped another clean towel into the peroxide. She hadn’t even stopped to wear gloves, and now my blood and the dirt that was caked on me stained her.

  It was a perfect metaphor.

  One I hated but had to acknowledge as truth. She was pure, innocent, and completely ignorant. Me? I was guilty, bloodstained, and knew more than I’d wish on my worst enemy.

  “With this part at least,” she answered, her tone totally distracted as she wiped at one of my wounds with a cotton swab.

  “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

  “Trying to get rid of me?” She flashed me an annoyed glare then went back to her work.

  “No,” I replied, mentally kicking myself for being an ass.

  “Good. Because you and I? We’re going to be stuck together for a while. You might as well embrace that fact there, Swiss.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s my new nickname for you — Swiss — because you’re practically like Swiss cheese with all these holes in you. Seriously, you’re freaking Swiss cheese,” she mumbled and then stood, her brows drawing over her eyes as she studied the wound she had been working on. “I think that’ll do for now. Now, let’s check out your head.”

  “My head is fine.” It was hard enough keeping my distance with her gently rubbing my leg or with the scent of something distinctly feminine clinging to her skin as she bent near my chest while she worked on the gash there. It would be torture with her touching my face, brushing my hair away from where they’d bashed me… Hell no!

  Rolling her eyes, she ignored me and reached up then gently probed my hairline. Biting my tongue, I tried to focus on anything but the light touch of her fingers.

  “Yeah, that had to hurt,” she murmured, and I winced as she found the injury.

  “Wouldn’t know. I don’t remember it.”

  “Classic concussion. Look at me,” she demanded and placed her hands on either side of my face.

  She tilted my head as she studied my gaze. Her green eyes narrowed and studied me, causing my throat to go dry. So many emotions flashed through her expression, wearing her heart on her sleeve. It was easy to see her concern but also her raw determination to fix me, even when I had done nothing to deserve her care.

  I’d brought her coffee once.

  And it hadn’t even been for her.

  “Look to the light,” she demanded.

  I obeyed, trying to pull it together. I mean, the girl was studying me like a bug under a microscope, and I was the freaking Grinch with my heart growing two sizes by the second.

  They must have hit my head harder than I realized.

  “Good, your pupils are dilating correctly. It’s was probably just a mild concussion. You should be fine. But I do need to take care of the blood.”

  “Blood?” I asked. Oddly enough I hadn’t actually looked at myself. Or I had and didn’t remember it.

  Shit, I was starting to freak myself out.

  “Yeah, you’re pretty much covered. I’d have you hop in the shower, but I don’t trust you to be steady yet. Between your leg and your head…” She whistled.

  “You’re amazing for my self-esteem.”

  “I’m not a life coach.”

  “Don’t give up your day job.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Are you always this sarcastic?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her as she used another clean rag and wiped the side of my face.

  “Nope. You’re just lucky.”

  “Or cursed,” I grumbled. “Depending on how you look at it.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Daphne

  THE GUY WAS WEARING EVERY LAST one of my nerves thin. It was so frustrating! I was constantly vacillating between anger and attraction, frustration and fascination as I worked on patching him up the best I could. Seriously, the guy was either tougher than nails or just freaking lucky to be alive.

  “I think I’m finished for now. I’ll have to change the dressing on your bullet wound in a few hours, but you should be fine in the meantime. Go ahead and rest. Do you need anything? Have you had any water?” I asked, k
eeping my eyes trained on his.

  “Some water would be great.” Even his voice was sexy, distinct and masculine.

  “I’ll be right back.” I left quickly, needing to distance myself from the temptation.

  When I returned, he was sound asleep, snoring softly. Immediately, I relaxed and walked slowly to his bedside table and set the glass down. Studying him, I noticed how his dark brows were drawn together slightly, as if sleeping were a serious endeavor. Though trivial, it was amusing to me to know something so intimate about him, something that didn’t add up to the mystery that was Konstantin. Tiptoeing out of the room, I left to find Margo and give her a rundown of everything. Then I planned to call my parents, let them know I was staying with the Agron family for a few days. They wouldn’t mind; because Jude and Sofia had dated for so long my family already thought of her as one of us.

  When I finished talking with my mom, I sank into one of the chairs in the Agron’s living room. The soft leather embraced me.

  “You need anything?” Jude walked up beside me, hands in his pockets and grey eyes studying me intently.

  “Yeah, I need some clothes. I could just borrow them from Sofia, but I’d kinda like my own.” I sighed. Sofia and I were about the same size, but while she wore more of the trendy fashion, I was more of a jeans and t-shirt girl.

  “I’m on it. You probably should borrow something for right now though.” He nodded to my shirt. Blood-smears crossed the light blue fabric, and I had to take a deep breath.

  “Yeah… about that.” I stood up and turned to my brother. “Where’s Sofia?”

  “With Konstantin.” He nodded his head toward the hall.

  “Awesome,” I grumbled and walked to the room. Angry voices made me stop and wait. Not wanting to interrupt, I turned to walk away but stopped when I heard Konstantin’s voice lapse into Russian.

  I knew they were originally from Russia, their family at least, but I had never heard them speak the language. It was rough, all sharp edges, and I listened for a moment.

  “But why? You knew, you knew!” Sofia whisper-shouted in English. “You can’t lead the family when you’re dead.” She spat the word, and my stomach clenched.

  Khan followed her lead and spoke in slightly accented English. “I know… but Dad, he… it was the only way to get them off our back. You know the rules, Sofia. Petrov is who they want. If I can’t deliver, then all the leverage is gone. Gone. Do you understand what I’m saying? As in, everything that Dad did? Yeah, I’ll be the one accounting for those sins. Jude? You can kiss his ass goodbye when he finds out what he’ll be marrying into—“

  “You don’t know that.” There was a desperate edge to her tone, anger seeping through as well.

  “I don’t… but is that truly a risk you want to take?”

  The silence hung in the air. As I waited, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. I started to walk away.

  What. The. HELL was going on?

  A thought caused me to pause. This was my family they were dragging into their mess. It was my brother’s heart that would be ripped to shreds if whatever hellish situation they were in wasn’t fixed. I turned around and marched to the room, knocked on the door, and leaned against the door jam, trying not to squirm under Konstantin’s murderous glare and Sofia’s wide-eyed shock.

  “Explain.” It was only one word, but that one word had the potential to change everything, for me and my brother.

  There was no going back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Khan

  FEW THINGS TAKE ME BY SURPRISE, but seeing Daphne in my doorway, knowing she had overheard our conversation, had me in a panic. Thoughts spun through my mind, twisting as I tried to figure out some way to explain what she’d heard. A lie. Yet I could come up with nothing.

  Had to be the damn concussion.

  Sofia turned to me, her large brown eyes glistening with fear as she waited.

  And waited.

  Daphne’s eyebrows rose, as if asking for me to hurry up and explain myself. How had I missed the sarcastic wit that hid behind those deep blue eyes? It was annoying. Yet, as she crossed then uncrossed her arms, her gaze flickered between the two of us.

  “Question.” She walked into the room, a fury of red hair and long limbs. “Khan, you’d do anything to protect your sister, your family. Right?” Her gaze cut to my covered leg with the bullet wound then back to me.

  “Yes.” I nodded. Shit. I could see where she was going with this.

  “What makes you think that I would be any less protective of my family?” She leaned forward, spearing me with her gaze.

  “Daph—“

  “Sofia…” She turned to face my tense sister. “… I love you like the sister I never had, but so help me…” She took a calming breath. “… I will not let you break my brother’s heart.” Her chest rose with exertion, as if pulling in strength rather than simply air. “And the only way to stop that from happening is to tell us what the hell is going on. Sofia, you’re practically family, and family… sticks together.”

  Sofia nodded, tears running down her face as she gripped Daphne’s hand in a vice-like hold.

  “But whatever secrets you’ve been keeping, that ends now. As in this freaking moment. Understand?” She glared at me, daring me to argue.

  Sofia sniffed and turned to me. “Khan, she’s right—“

  “Shit.” I groaned and leaned back, fighting the pulsing throb in my head as I tried to figure out anyway around the mess.

  “If you won’t, then I will.” The mattress shifted as Sofia rose from the bed.

  “No, you will not.”

  “Like hell will you tell me what to do when everything — everything — is on the line! We can trust them!”

  “I didn’t say we couldn’t trust them, Sofia.” I kept my tone soft, pleading with her with my eyes.

  “Khan…”

  “Still here… waiting…” Daphne raised her hand.

  “I’m cut up, not blind.”

  “Or mute, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” I gave her my best sarcastic grin. “Give me a minute.”

  “No.”

  “Huh?”

  “No. Time means you’re thinking about what you’re going to say. You can think up lies. You can think up ways around it. No. You speak now.”

  “Demanding much?”

  “Thickheaded much? Which part of no are you misunderstanding?”

  I glanced down; she was tapping her foot.

  “Seriously? Are you honestly tapping your foot at me?”

  “Yes, and I’m about to start busting out the Jeopardy theme song if you don’t hurry it up!”

  “Fine!” I swore in Russian under my breath, and her eyes widened slightly, not in fear but what looked like curiosity. Taking a breath, I decided the best place to start was the beginning. “Family… You know the whole saying, blood is thicker than water?”

  She nodded, silent as she listened with rapt attention.

  My palms began to sweat.

  “It means family is the most important relationship — the most important tie. You could say our extended family has a very literal take on that saying. Our family…“ I emphasized the word. “… is not just a bond. It’s a lifestyle, a… livelihood.”

  The furrow in her brows deepened as her eyes narrowed. “How does a family business have to do with—“

  “Not just a family business.” Shit. I was butchering it. Each time I made eye contact with her, my thoughts scattered as I noticed a new freckle on her nose or a yellow hue in her iris.

  “Seriously, just spit it out. It’s not like you’re drug lords from South America or the Italian Mafia. Seriously.” She let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Uh…” Sofia spoke up then paused.

  “Wait… say what?” Daphne’s gaze darted back and forth like an Olympic ping-pong ball.

  “It’s not that simple—“

  “Shit.” She swore then stood and paced about the room. Her hands raked through her red
hair, causing it to cascade over her shoulders, totally distracting me for a second.

  “But we’re the good guys.” Sofia stood, following her around the room.

  Between the two of them, I was feeling a little dizzy.

  “How does that work?” She spun to face Sofia, almost causing a two-person collision.

  “Because we are one of the few families that don’t just know of the feds. We know them personally. And that…” I paused, waiting till I had her full attention.” … is why you had to play doctor on my hot mess.”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

  “So…” She studied the carpet, as if it held the answers. “… what you’re saying… is that even though you’re from some crime family, you actually work for the feds, and because you played both sides, you got shot?” Her gaze lifted, slicing through me as she waited for my answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why was Sofia worried you’d go to prison?” She cocked her head, daring me to answer.

  “Because it’s not common knowledge, and the… other families I was working with, the ones that shot me, might have planted evidence. I have no freaking clue, but I wouldn’t put anything past them. Also, I’d be a pretty awesome target in a local hospital, wouldn’t you think? Anyone could just waltz up and shoot my IV with something that would make my heart stop. I’m pretty fond of living.”

  “Oh.” Her bravado faded, and she crossed her arms, as if holding herself tightly against the assault of information.

  “Yeah, oh.” I couldn’t help responding.

  Sofia cut me an irritated glare.

  “But you guys aren’t Italian,” Daphne said after a moment.

  “Nope.” I shook my head.