He froze. “What the fuck –”
She saw him tighten his finger on the trigger and without another second of thought, she pulled her own first. The gun that she’d picked up from the kitchen island bucked in her hand – loud and hard – and she fell backwards, vaguely aware that something had hit her in the face.
Right away, Dillon was there, gently taking the gun from her clenched hand, unfolding her locked fingers one at a time. Beyond that, he didn’t touch her, though, didn’t make any move to hold her. He stood between her and Captain’s body, staring at her.
“Don’t look at him, Maria.” Dillon’s voice made her look at his tense face. “Look at me. Just me.”
She blinked up at him, feeling like there was no ground beneath her feet.
“That’s good. You want to sit down?”
She shook her head, reconsidered, nodded.
“OK. Come on.”
He was just reaching for her when there was pounding at the apartment door, shouting from the hallway outside. Maria jumped and Dillon cocked the gun again.
“Stay here,” he said. “Turn away from him. Look at me, Maria, don’t take your eyes off me. You hear me?”
She nodded again, wrapped her arms around herself, wondered why she was on her knees all of a sudden. She hadn’t meant to go to the floor like that.
“Who is it?” Dillon shouted through the door.
“Mattie.”
“Thank Christ,” Dillon muttered. He swung the door open and there she stood, shotgun in hand. “We’re OK. It’s all over.”
Mattie stared down at the unconscious man on the floor, looked at the two dead bodies near the patio, saw Maria kneeling on the floor.
“Maria!” she said. “You hurt, honey?”
“N – no.” Her teeth were chattering now, making it hard to talk.
“So why are you covered in –” Mattie fell silent as realization hit her.
Covered in what?
Maria looked down at herself. Her sweater was covered in red liquid and flecks of something hard and gray. She blinked and touched her chest, wondering why her fingers came away sticky. Bewildered, she looked up.
“Dillon? What –”
“Don’t touch it, Maria.” She could hear stress and distress in his words. “Just don’t, OK?”
“But –” She licked her lips, tasted something salty and tangy. She raised her wrist to her mouth, wiped it, stared down at the red left there. “What is it?”
“Oh, God,” Mattie said. “Maria…”
“What?” Panic was rising now and she didn’t understand why. “What is it?”
It was the white and gray stuff that finally made the merciless wave of blinding understanding crash over her. She held some bits of it in her palm, trying to focus on the shards of white mixed in with it.
Red. Gray. White. Liquid, spongey, hard. Hard like – like bone. Spongy like tissue. Wet, salty liquid.
Oh, my God. Oh, fuck.
She screamed now, clawing at her face, at her hair. “Get it off me! Get it off!”
Dillon shot forward, picked her up of the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her hands to her sides.
“Shhhh,” he said in her ear. “I got you, baby. I’m going to get you cleaned up, OK?”
She screamed again, struggling to free her hands so she could rip her skin off her bones. “Get it off me!”
“I will, I promise you.” He carried her to the bathroom, kicked the door shut behind him. He turned on the shower, still holding her close in a vise-like grip. “I’m going to wash it all off.”
She stopped screaming since she didn’t have enough breath all of a sudden. Dillon let the water run for a few seconds to heat it up, then he stepped right in to the shower with her. He set her on her feet, but didn’t let her go. Her head fell forward on to his chest and her eyes closed; the warm water running over her body was soothing, relaxing. It almost made her feel sleepy.
“Maria?” He lifted her chin. “Deep breaths. Don’t faint.”
“Yeah,” she muttered, her eyes still shut. “You hate it when women pass out on you.”
He paused, then chuckled. “You’re still here, huh?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to undress you now. Can you stand by yourself?”
She nodded. He pulled off her thin sweater and t-shirt, tugged her shorts off and there she was, just in her bra and panties. She looked down and saw dark red water swirling away down the drain. It made her feel sick, so she slammed her eyes shut again.
Dillon dropped her soaked clothes on the floor, caught her against his chest again. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
They stood for a long time, just letting the water wash over their bodies. Maria started to feel again – her fingertips returned, so did her knees and eyelashes. She opened her eyes and saw Dillon staring down at her. He smiled bit, trying to reassure her.
“I’m going to wash your hair and face. Come here.”
The shampoo smelled wonderful, his fingers felt amazing. Tenderly, he massaged her scalp, making soapy bubbles that slid down her golden skin. The pure, fresh scent of jasmine filled the bathroom and she sighed, almost completely back in her body. With the soap, he scrubbed her face and neck until all traces of Captain’s death were gone from her body. When she was clean, he held her close, running his hands through her curls over and over again.
Maria took a deep breath. “Dillon?”
“Yeah?”
“Is he dead?”
His fingers stilled in her long hair. “Yeah, baby. He’s dead.”
“I killed him?”
“You defended yourself – and me. You did what you had to do.”
“I killed him?”
“Yes.” Dillon turned off the water.
She watched as he grabbed a towel. He dried her body slowly, gently. That was when she noticed that he was in soaked jeans and a t-shirt. The material was plastered to his body, every curve of every muscle clearly outlined.
“You got in the shower fully clothed?” she said.
“Yep.” He grinned down at her, but it was strained and white. “No need to do laundry this week, huh?”
“I guess not.” She stood still as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “Dillon?”
“Yeah?” He lifted her, sat her down on the counter next to the sink.
“I killed him?”
He planted one hand on either side of her body on the marble, leaned forward to hold her eyes. “Yes.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
“You need to say it,” she said. “Please.”
“You killed him.”
She was quiet for a minute. “I don’t feel sorry. I don’t feel anything. Is that bad?”
A look of pain crossed his face. “It’s not good and it’s not bad. It’s shock.”
“I’m in shock?” she asked, interested despite herself.
“For sure. It’s your body’s way of protecting your mind. You need some time to accept what just happened.”
“How am I supposed to accept that I killed somebody?”
“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But I’ll help you.”
He got undressed now, dried off. She clutched the towel around her body, watching his every move. He had just wrapped the towel around his waist when the shaking started suddenly, completely out of the blue, and she felt a deep chill start to work its way up her body. She moaned and Dillon grabbed her again.
“OK, baby, OK. I’m right here.”
“I’m so cold,” she whispered, burying her face in to his warm chest.
That was the last thing she remembered before a wave of blackness brutally crashed over her. She fell in to it, welcomed the oblivion it offered. Anything to avoid facing what she’d
just done.
I killed him.
Chapter Nineteen
When Maria opened her eyes again, she was on the sofa in her apartment. She was naked and wrapped tightly in two blankets. Dillon was lying next to her fully-clothed, his arm curled around her waist, his eyes serious and watchful. The pain and worry that she saw in them told her that it hadn’t been a dream.
She turned on her side to face him. “It all happened?”
“It all happened.”
She took a deep breath. “You brought me here?”
“Yeah.” He touched her cheek. “After you passed out, I hustled you out of there before the cops arrived. Phil and Mattie will handle everything at that end and in the morning, we’ll go to the police station and make a statement, OK?”
She nodded. “OK.”
He ran his fingertip over her lips. “How are you doing now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You feel anything about it yet?”
She looked up at the ceiling, really listening to her own emotions. “I feel something, but I don’t know what it is. I know I don’t feel sorry… I feel –” She stopped, considered some more. “I feel like I made a choice and now I have to live with it and all of its consequences. I feel OK with that.”
Dillon was silent. He’d already made up his mind to not tell her that she hadn’t had to make the choice that she did. The call that Dillon had made after knocking the second asshole out had been to Phil for backup. He'd chosen Phil because he figured that something had to have happened to Dwayne – after all, how else did those fuckers manage to get past the functional cameras? Turns out he'd been right, of course: Dwayne had been knocked out by some kind of tranquilizing dart and he was still probably sleeping off its effects.
When Captain had shown up, Dillon hadn’t disconnected the cell before putting it down and Phil had been right there the whole time, on the patio, waiting for Captain and Maria to emerge. He’d told Dillon that he’d fully intended to shoot Captain in the leg to get him to release Maria – and Phil would have finished him off without hesitation if the other man had so much as moved his gun.
What Maria had done had been unnecessary, on the whole, but knowing that wasn’t going to help her in the slightest. Right now, Dillon saw no need to enlighten her about that. But there was a bigger issue, one that he did have to discuss with Maria.
“Baby?” he said. “Can we talk about the police statement?”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes still a bit dazed. “Sure.”
He reached for her, pulled her close. “I’m going to say that I killed both men.”
“You what?” she said, stunned. “No! Why?”
“Because I was there to do a job, I’m licensed to carry a weapon, I’m trained. If someone like me pulls the trigger to defend a client, the investigation goes a certain way. But when someone like you does? It – it changes everything. It gets way messier.”
“Messier?”
“Yeah. It starts up talk of self-defence and justifiable homicide.” He ran his fingers up and down her tense back, trying to soothe her. “You’d be put under the microscope in a way that I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I promise you it’s true.”
“Dillon.” Her voice was stronger now. “I’m not letting you take the blame for this… you could get charged with two counts of murder. I’m not letting you lie – and I’m not lying either.”
A pained look crossed his handsome face. “Maria…”
“No.” She sat up, pulled away from him. “No. I’m telling the truth and so are you.”
He sat up too. “Honey, please. Please let me do this for you. Let me take the heat.”
“No. You’re a man who values the truth and for you to lie is to – deny and belittle something that you hold dear.” She paused. “For you, the truth is almost sacred and you’re not going to betray it. Not for me.”
“You’re the only person in the world I’ll do it for and be OK with it.” He ran his fingers over her hand. “Just you, baby. I’ll do it for you.”
“No,” she said again. “No.”
He was silent, studying the look on her face. She wasn’t going to budge, he knew that as sure as he knew that he loved her.
“Maria… you do know what you’re going to potentially have to face, right?”
“I should have to face things,” she said. “I killed him. Yeah, I had my reasons and yeah, I’d do it again. He and his friends were going to hurt me badly, then I was going to end up dead. He and his buddies came in shooting and armed to the teeth and they’d have killed us both, given half a chance.” She bit her lip. “I made my choice and I have to stand by it with you, and the police, and myself. I can’t lie about what I did and I won’t let you do that, either.”
He shook his head, torn between admiration and exasperation. “Are you totally sure?”
“Yes.” She moved back in to his arms. “Totally.”
“OK.” He sighed. “I guess we went in to this whole thing together and we’ll come out of it the same way, huh?”
“Exactly.” Maria kissed him. “We face whatever it is together.”
“I can do that.” Dillon closed his eyes, already worried about what was coming, but trusting her decision. “I got your back.”
“I know. And I have yours.”
He thought about her stepping between him and Captain, about her pulling that trigger. “That is for goddamn sure, darlin’.”
**
Maria was woken up several hours later by Dillon’s voice. He was keeping it low and quiet, but she heard it anyway: something in it felt way wrong.
He said goodbye and set the cell phone down on the coffee table. He ran his hands over his face and sighed.
“What?” she said, her voice hoarse. “What is it?”
Dillon turned and looked at her. “That was Jax.”
“Yeah? You told him what happened here?”
“I did.” Dillon hesitated. “And he told me what happened there.”
“What?” Maria sat up fast, wincing a bit as the morning light hit her eyes full-on. “What happened there? Is Gabi OK?”
Dillon wrestled with himself, wanting so badly to lie to her to spare her the inevitable fear and pain. “Well, no. She’s not.”
“What happened? Tell me.”
“She’s been hurt.”
“Hurt?”
He held her eyes. “The Fallen Angels grabbed her from Aidan's place, baby, and they had her for a few hours. King and Aidan got her back and she’s at the hospital – but she’s not in great shape. She’s – she’s not talking. She’s in some kind of catatonic state.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, waves of terror already washing over her. “Oh, no.”
“Yeah.”
“How did they get her?”
“They did what they did here – stormed where she was. Came in shooting.”
“When?”
“Last night, at the exact same time that they attacked us. It was obviously coordinated so nobody could warn anybody else.”
“Was anyone killed?” She held her breath, thinking about all these people she’d never even met: King, Jax, Aidan.
“No. Nobody was killed.” He saw no need to elaborate further about Aidan’s injuries. After all, she’d only asked if anybody had died.
She studied him. “How long have you known about all of this?”
He sighed. “Jax called when I was driving you over here last night and told me about them grabbing her. King called about four hours ago, told me that they knew where she was and they were going to get her. And now Jax just called to give me an update from the hospital.” He looked down. “I didn’t want to wake you up… not until I was sure you were OK yourself.”
“I’m not bad. I’m – bette
r than I was. And we need to go to Denver.”
“You certain you want that?”
“Yes. I want to be there for her when she starts talking again.” Her dark eyes were steady as she already decided that it was all going to be OK; she refused to consider the alternative. “Can we go now?”
“Yeah. We leave in ten.”
She suddenly remembered. “But my police statement…”
“You can give it back in the city,” Dillon assured her. “The Denver PD will be working with the Clarity cops, anyway, I guarantee it. The Fallen Angels are local to the DPD and they’re known, believe me. I know several cops in the city who’ll be taking a very personal interest in all of this.”
“You think I can give my statement there for sure? No problems?”
“None.” He got to his feet now and carefully helped her stand. “Now, get dressed and go pack. We’re going to go and wait for your sister to come back to us. OK?”
“You’ll stay with me the whole time?”
Dillon caught her in his arms, trying to stop her shaking with his muscles, with his kisses. “I’m not leaving you, Maria. Not for one second and not for anything.”
“Promise?”
“On my life.”
Chapter Twenty
The closer they got to Denver, the more tense Dillon felt himself get. Maria didn’t have the first clue about the Fallen Angels, but more than that, she didn’t know Dillon away from Open Skies. He was full of doubts about how she’d react when she saw Dangerous Curves, saw the kinds of customers that he threw out of the place.
Also worryingly, how would she react to King, Jax, Aidan? They were all hard-as-nails motherfuckers and he was absolutely one of them. He clearly remembered how she’d reacted when she’d touched his gun by accident in the kitchen. Despite what she’d done to Captain, she wasn’t like him and the guys. Not in her core.
For the past three weeks, Dillon had been gentle with Maria, tender and careful – but that was over now. He’d shot a man in the head right in front of her without even batting an eyelash, savagely smashed another one from behind. There was more violence to come, he’d bet on it, and if he were being honest, he may well have to inflict some more of his own. If it meant getting back at the guys who’d hurt Gabi, he’d do it and no hesitation. But would it lose him Maria?
Open Life (Open Skies #5) Page 18