Hurt

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Watching her, I wondered if I was looking at my future…

  Was it worth it?

  Glancing to door where Khan had disappeared, I decided that it was.

  He made it worth it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Khan

  The phone buzzed again, my heart accelerating with the knowledge of what it meant. I was out of time.

  Not that I’d had much to begin with, but still.

  The phone felt heavy in my hand as I unlocked it and dialed the number I hoped to never have to use again.

  Damn, it sucked when history repeated itself.

  The phone line clicked live with no answer.

  But I wasn’t expecting one.

  “It’s Khan.” I took a deep breath. “The church has fifty spires but is trying to add another one. The architect needs new blueprints.”

  To anyone listening in, it wouldn’t make much sense, but to those familiar with the Russian mob, there were tells in the sentence. The spires in the church? How many kills someone has. Petrov? Last we knew he was up to fifty, according to rumors, with another spire being me. Needing new blueprints? I needed new orders because I’d been exposed.

  “I’ll connect you with the contractor.” Sergio’s voice chilled me, and then the line disconnected.

  It was done.

  Holding out my phone, I watched the screen just as another text went off.

  It was a countdown… fifteen minutes less than the last… and a half hour less than the first.

  I had twenty-four hours.

  Petrov was coming, and he knew I had tried to cross him.

  Even as the seconds ticked by in my mind, the only thing I could see was Daphne’s face.

  Twenty-four hours that could be my last.

  And I wanted them to count.

  Every last damn minute.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daphne

  “KHAN?” THOUGH I WAS LISTENING FOR the door, I hadn’t heard him come in but happened to see him in his room as I walked by, searching for Sofia.

  “Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder then turned his attention back to the backpack on the bed.

  “Going somewhere?” My heart pounded fiercely, and I crossed my arms, holding myself tightly against what I sensed was about to happen.

  “Not sure,” he answered and slowly lowered to the ground, careful with his still healing wound. He reached under the bed and pulled out a black case. It reminded me of a guitar case, but a different shape. Using his good leg to lift himself, he tossed the case onto the bed and started to unlock the combination. As he tossed the lid over, I gasped at the arsenal displayed. Five firearms all gleamed in the grey foam lined box. Studying the case, he started taking each gun out, releasing the clip and ejecting the bullet from the chamber. He then reseated the clip but didn’t jack a round back in. He tossed each gun to the bed as he finished and walked with determined steps to the closet.

  I leaned against the doorjamb of his room and waited, trying to piece together what I was seeing. He came from the closet with several extra clips and boxes of ammunition.

  “Do you know how to use a gun?” Khan asked unexpectedly.

  “Uh…” I swallowed. “…I’ve shot sage rats with a 20-gauge.”

  “Sage rats?” Khan paused and turned to me, his expression slightly more open, less guarded.

  “Yeah… the little prairie dogs we have around here. My grandpa used to hire me in the summer to keep them down in the garden.”

  “Got it. So you have pretty good aim? I mean, those things are small and move fast.” He sounded hopeful.

  Which was anything but comforting. “I guess.” I shoved my slick, sweaty hands in my pockets, attempting to dry some of the perspiration that broke out at the realization of what was going on.

  “Come here.” He nodded to the bed, pulled out a .9mm, and handed it to me. My gaze darted from him to the gun, then back.

  “It’s loaded, but there isn’t a bullet in the chamber so it can’t fire right now,” he replied softly, as if trying not to spook a horse.

  Tentatively, I reached out and gripped the handle. It was heavier than I’d thought, and I had to hold it tighter to keep it from falling.

  “It’s different from a 20-gauge in the fact that you don’t hold it against your shoulder.” He moved to stand behind me. “With a shotgun, the butt rests against your skin, but with a handgun, you keep your arms straight, and then… when it bucks… you absorb the impact with your elbows bending, sending your forearms upward, but never back. You wrists shouldn’t move either.”

  His hands were warm against mine as he moved my hands through the motions of firing the gun without actually pulling the trigger, his body solid behind mine, taking away my fear and replacing it with a sense of determination.

  “Am I in danger, Khan?” I asked in a whisper, telling myself that I needed to know.

  “Not if everything goes according to plan. And if it doesn’t, you’ll still be safe. I’ll make sure of it, but I also won’t take any chances with something as precious as your life.” He spoke carefully as he took a step away, removing his body heat and leaving me chilled.

  “This is a Glock .9mm. It’s yours. I know that Sofia has one similar, and I’m betting Jude is armed as well.” He took off his shirt. His back muscles bunched as he tossed the t-shirt to the carpet. He pulled out several holsters from his backpack. After strapping a knife shoulder holster around his chest, he slid several knives into the sheaths.

  “What plan?” I asked as I stepped toward him, my eyes caressing his tight skin.

  “The one you’ll never know about. Ignorance is not just bliss. It’s protection.” He regarded me carefully, then turned and lifted a fresh shirt from the bed and pulled it over his head. Selecting a clip, he started to load it with bullets.

  “Will you be safe?” I asked, realizing the answer.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll have reinforcements.” Khan tucked another clip into his pocket and grabbed an additional gun. He checked the chamber before tucking it back into the case.

  “That’s… quite the arsenal.” My tone was anything but steady, and I set the Glock on the side table, needing to release the cool metal from my grip.

  “Think of it as insurance.” He shrugged, locked up the case, and zipped up a black backpack and set it on the floor. He lifted the gun case from the bed and placed it by his feet.

  “Not reassuring.” I hugged myself.

  Khan paused, his solid shoulders tightening slightly as his jaw clenched then relaxed. He sighed and turned to me, his intense expression igniting a passion that left me both burning and freezing.

  “Daph.” His voice was soft, just like his touch, as he ran a warm finger down my arm before lacing his fingers through mine. “Reassurance isn’t something I can offer you…” He drew lazy circles along my wrist with his thumb. “… but I can promise that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it goes as smoothly as possible. I’ve got the best on my side, and this issue that needs addressing will hopefully be the last for a while, if ever. But I have to take care of it, especially if…” He took a deep breath and looked to the floor, licking his lips. “… especially if I’m going to make this work.” His gaze melted over me, drawing me in, saying everything with his expression that he had just voiced with his words.

  “Okay.” I nodded once then moved forward and kissed his lips.

  He leaned into the kiss, the force almost knocking me backward, but his arms grasped me tightly as he assaulted my mouth, caressing it, and branding it.

  The ridges and valleys of his back teased my hands as I stroked him, needing to feel the power in his body, knowing it was his protection from the unseen threat. His hot mouth left my lips and softly bit along my neck, causing shivers to wrack my body. I leaned into him, feeling the solid structure of his chest pressed against mine, trying to ignore the ridge of his shoulder holster hidden beneath his shirt. His hands rested on my hips, grasping them tightly as if
marking what was his, and I pushed against him, needing the contact — needing to feel him.

  Khan pulled me backward till we tumbled onto the bed. His breath hissed from between his teeth as I all but tackled him, forgetting about his injury. I gasped and started to try and get up, only to have him hold me fast.

  “No… stay.” His scorching eyes begged me as his hands trailed from my knee to my thigh before grasping my hips once more as I straddled him.

  “Khan…” I whispered his name, leaning forward and sealing it across his lips.

  “Stay,” he whispered once more.

  His hands trailed up my back, tickling my spine as he slowly lifted my shirt.

  Khan,” I repeated before swirling my tongue across his lower lip, inhaling the rich scent of his skin as he warmed me even through his clothes, his body calling to mine.

  “Khan!” Jude’s voice broke through the erotic haze that was weaving around me, striking awareness into my very soul. I felt like the kid with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “Ignore him,” Khan whispered, trying to kiss me back under his spell.

  It would have worked, too, had Jude’s shouting not become louder and much closer.

  “Sometimes I hate your brother,” Khan whispered against my lips.

  “Agreed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Khan

  “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” Jude’s expression was violent as he aggressively strode into my bedroom, his hand holding up my cell phone.

  Shit.

  As he quickly scanned the room, I was afraid he’d noticed the skewed comforter on the bed and the obvious bee-stung lips of his sister. My fears were realized when his gaze turned murderous.

  Damn it all.

  “Care to explain what the hell this is?” He threw the phone at me like a major league pitcher trying to brain the batter. Barely catching it, I glared at him. “I kinda have to see the screen to answer your question… bro.”

  “It’s a freaking clock… rather, it’s a countdown. Numbering your hours?” He glared from me to his sister then back, his glare accusing.

  “It’s none of your concern,” I replied, smoothing my expression into an inscrutable mask. Times like this I felt like two people: the mob boss of my family and then just Khan, brother, son, and friend. Yet it seemed like it was getting harder and harder to separate the two; rather, one was taking over the other — and it wasn’t the one I wanted to win.

  I scrolled through my messages, seeing the zillion texts with different numbers till I found one that caught my eye from a different contact.

  Contractor: Your building plans have been altered. Proceed to the building site, and your new crew will be waiting.

  The sensation of relief washed over me; I wasn’t going at this alone — not that I thought Sergio would hang me out to dry, but I wasn’t that part of his family, just a connection through Andi. But clearly, that was enough.

  “Are you going to answer or just stare at your damn phone?” Jude asked, aggression dripping from his tone.

  “I — actually no.” I squared my shoulders, facing Jude as if approaching a boxer in the ring. “The less you know the better. I’m leaving in an hour, and I know that my sister and Daphne will be safe with you. I know you think I’m an ass, Jude. But I’m doing everything I can. That’s all I can tell you.”

  Jude narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “You’re right, I do think you’re an ass.” He shook his head. “Does Sofia know? Because you sure as hell better say goodbye this time. Especially since it looks like you already said goodbye to my sister… who, by the way, is not to be on your bed ever again.” He crossed his arms, and I could almost feel the blush that stained Daphne’s face as I looked to her.

  “Sofia knows.” I nodded once and bent down to pick up the backpack and gun case, thankful it really just looked like I was carrying an electric guitar case. “I’ll see you later, Jude…” I let the phrase linger, my eyes darting to the door and back to him.

  He simply raised his eyebrow and shook his head.

  “Hell no. You can say goodbye in front of me.” He widened his stance.

  “Jude—“

  “It’s okay, Daph. It’s not goodbye, it’s… till later.” I offered her my most confident smile, hoping it reached my eyes. Judging by the way her eyes glistened as she studied me then darted her eyes away, I wasn’t fooling her. I had already said good-bye to my mom and sister, saving the most difficult for last, Daphne.

  “Khan…” she whispered.

  Damn it, but I loved the way she said my name.

  Slowly, she approached me and grasped my t-shirt, her touch causing my heart to accelerate, and she pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. Closing my eyes, I memorized the moment. Then pulling away, I flipped the switch and forced myself to focus on what lay ahead.

  I had to separate the two. Thoughts of Daphne would distract me, and I needed to remain focused if I wanted to come back alive.

  “Bye.” I saw the word on her lips, rather than heard its whisper. I strode to the door and paused when Jude’s hand rested at my shoulder. I glanced behind me, not turning.

  “Be… safe.” The aggression was gone from his expression and replaced with a grudging respect.

  Nodding, I left, focusing on each moment… each breath. Praying that it wasn’t the countdown to the last.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Daphne

  I WATCHED HIM LEAVE, MY HEART hammering in my chest.

  “You know he’s honestly the walking-freaking-dead,” Jude said to Khan’s disappearing back, his voice broken, even with the damnable words he’d spoken.

  “He’ll be back,” I said to myself mostly, praying it was true.

  Jude turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly, not in anger — rather, sympathy.

  Pity.

  “For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Jude finally replied, as if accepting the road my heart had chosen for me… for us.

  “Sophie okay?” I asked, needing some sort of distraction because I was seriously tempted to just tackle Khan — or try to — and get him to change his mind.

  “No,” Jude replied simply, his gaze focused on where Khan had just left. The sound of a Ducati roaring to life made me cringe.

  After a final rev of the engine, the sound of its roaring purr started to fade, and I swallowed back my fear. The tears leaked out even though I tried to trap them by squeezing my eyes shut.

  “Is he gone?” Sophie’s voice startled me. Arms around her waist, she seemed to be trying to hold herself together. I knew the feeling.

  “Yeah,” Jude answered just before pulling her into a tight hug as a silent sob wracked her body.

  “He’ll be back,” I said for the second time in less than a few minutes. Maybe repetition would make it truer.

  “He will.” She pulled away from Jude’s embrace just enough to wipe her tear-streaked cheeks and nod, offering me a watery smile.

  “Where’s Margo?” I asked.

  “Praying,” Sophie answered. “She always prays whenever Khan leaves. Family tradition… she always prayed for my dad too.”

  I offered up a prayer as well, needing to trust in something that was bigger than myself. I mean, I had always believed in God, but desperation brought things in to a clearer focus. ”Where?” I asked.

  “Where?” Jude asked, a confused expression on his face.

  “Where is she praying?”

  “There’s a small office down the hall.” Sophie nodded in that direction.

  Nodding, I left the room and found a door ajar. Margo was on her knees, her hands folded and tear-streaks on her face.

  Silently, I walked over to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She didn’t shift her posture, but I saw the smallest smile tease her lips. She reached and covered my hand with hers, holding it tightly. After a moment, I knelt beside her. Soon the sound of soft footsteps alerted me to someone else joining us. Jude and Sophie knelt behind Margo and me. Sophie’s hand grasped mine as I of
fered it, and we shared a tight squeeze. Falling into silence, I considered just how amazing it was, to have come from so many different backgrounds, so many levels of love — mother, sister, boyfriend. Even through moments of disdain, we all united in one truth, the oldest of all time.

  Life.

  Because, even through our disagreements, through times when motives were questioned and actions challenged, we could always agree on one thing.

  Life.

  It was precious.

  And united we knelt.

  For Khan’s life… for my future.

  For all of our futures.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Khan

  The trees flew by as I passed over Snoqualmie Pass and onto the 405. I broke through the trees and was greeted by the Bellevue skyline and the bright taillights of opposing traffic in the other lane. Passing through the skyscrapers, I wove through traffic, thankful it wasn’t thick, and merged onto the exit that would take me toward Seattle. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, even the motorcycle’s roar didn’t drown it out; if anything, it added to its rhythm. I took the Mercer Island exit and made my way downtown, past Pike’s Market and toward the docks.

  Of course that was where they’d chosen to meet.

  There was something painfully sinister about the scent of cargo ships and rotting fish.

  Lovely.

  I approached the gate specified and waved at the operator. It opened quickly — too quickly. I wasn’t exactly counting on an element of surprise, but it wasn’t ever helpful to be completely expected either.

  I heard the gravel spray from under my tires as I made my way past several towers of containers, all waiting to be shipped overseas. Abandoned machinery rusted in heaps, and a few homeless people gathered around a burning barrel as I passed through. I weaved the bike around till the building I was searching for came into view. It wasn’t impressive, but that was the plan. The mob didn’t exactly want to be conspicuous. The opposite, rather.