by Danica Avet
My hand trembles as I gently smooth the hair away from Lena’s face. I’d parked out of sight and run all the way over here just in time to see everything unfold. I never knew what fear was until then. I could see my whole life without her in it and the vision was enough to fuel the fire to reach her, to put everything I had into the machine I’ve made of my body, running for my life. Because Lena is my life and always will be.
The sirens are here, more chaos, more noise, but all of it fades away as Lena’s eyelashes flutter. When she sees me, those brown eyes focusing on my face, she smiles.
“You’re really here,” she whispers.
“I’ll never be anywhere else but at your side.” I flatten myself next to her, resting my forehead against hers. “I love you.”
She doesn’t answer, although her smile grows a little wider.
“Press charges,” someone’s slurring loudly, wetly. “I want that bashtard arreshted. He attacked me!”
Tearing my gaze away from my girl, I see Nathan being treated by EMTs, while another set get to work on Lena’s mom, the police surrounding us all.
“Leave that piece of shit alone,” Savage shouts. “We have another girl over here with a gunshot wound.”
One of the EMTs hurries over to look at Lena’s injury. But my attention is caught on Nathan who’s trying to spin the story to his advantage. Except its Terrible, of all people, who steps in to put an end to the convoluted lie.
“Detective Byers,” he said calmly, holding out his phone. “I have feed from the cameras that shows what really happened here.”
The older officer wearing plainclothes looked at Terrible with a frown. “Tarr,” he acknowledged in a clipped voice. “Do you have permission to access the feeds for those cameras?”
Terrible smiles. “Of course. Deuce has been investigating a vandalism complaint for The Medallion for the last three weeks. The feeds are monitored at all times since DG Investigations is diligent about our clients’ needs. When I saw what happened and heard the call go out, I came right over. I knew you needed to see this.”
The cop looks skeptical, but he accepts the phone and steps away from everyone else. I have to admit, if I hadn’t driven Terrible here myself, I would’ve believed him because he sounds convincing.
Nathan looks panicked. Or I suppose he would look panicked if I could see any of his face which is battered to hell. I hadn’t gone easy on him and if I hadn’t heard that Lena was hurt, I’d still be beating on him. But she always comes first, even before my rage. Of course, Rien had been there to tear me away, make sure Nathan wasn’t going anywhere until the police arrived.
Then he and Johnny T’s men disappeared, melting away like wisps of smoke. But I know my brother’s watching over us to make sure everything goes smoothly. The same way I’ll always watch over Lena. That’s what you do when you love. You protect it. You fight for it.
Forever.
Lena
In books and movies, when the hero saves the heroine, there’s some huge revelation, declarations of love, or the bad guy suddenly comes to life for one last hurrah. In my life, Anders scoops me out of the wheelchair the nurses made me sit in after discharge, tucks me into the familiar passenger seat of his Bronco, and drives us back to Beau’s house. But his hand grips mine the entire way, his thumb stroking my skin, and every time we stop at a red light, he looks over at me as though he can’t believe I’m here.
That expression on his face helps to heal some of the fractures on my psyche and I realize that this is so much better than any book or movie. Because this is real. This is my life. And it’s no longer boring, no longer dull. Although if I can avoid being shot at ever again, I’ll never complain about boredom for as long as I live.
I swallow a hysterical laugh, squeezing Anders’ fingers, borrowing some of his strength. Later, I promise myself, later I’ll break down and sob. I’ll process everything, analyze it until there’s nothing left to think about and then move on with my life. Right now though, I need to hold myself together. For Anders. For myself. Just a tiny taste of make believe before I start chomping down on the ugly reality of what happened tonight.
The police questioned me while we were waiting on the doctor to let me go. I told them everything that happened tonight, and I told them about the tape, but I left out Ivan’s involvement. I’m pretty sure hiring a hacker to break into someone’s system is illegal and I don’t want to go to jail. Luckily, Nathan’s made enough of a mess of his case by complaining about ‘those fucking kids’—which I could hear from my emergency exam room—enough times that my statements were just icing on the cake.
Am I happy he’s probably going to jail for a very long time? Yes.
Mom though… She made it through surgery, but I don’t know what’s going to happen to her. The police found the drugs in her purse, there was talk of a video recording detailing everything that happened in the lot, which means she might be arrested as well as an accessory.
Am I sad about that? Yes. Did she throw herself in front of me to protect me? Or did she trip? No one saw much of it—too much going on at once—but I’d like to think she was trying to save me. Although that might just be wishful thinking.
My friends had all crowded in my little exam room until the nurses asked for peace. Anders convinced them to wait for us at the cottage, that we’d be there as soon as they discharged me and I was glad for it. I love them, but my brain’s still too numb to absorb much of their comfort and attempts to cheer me.
Then I remember a strange, older man who came by to talk with Anders. I thought maybe he was another detective but, before he left, he stopped next to the bed and smiled. “Ms. Leblanc, welcome to the family.”
The pain medication the hospital gave me for my bruises kept me a little too distracted to say anything other than a murmured thank you. And then he was gone.
“Who was that man?” I ask Anders as we wait for the guard to lift the gate. He gives us a wary look. I shake my head. “The one who came to my room tonight?”
“That’s… Johnny Totina, or Johnny T,” Anders says, his hold tightening. “He’s Becca’s uncle.”
I frown. “Well, that was nice of him to come see me.” Weird, but nice.
Anders clears his throat. “He’s uh… He’s the man Nathan borrowed the money from, the twenty thousand he bet on the game tomorrow night.” He glances over at me, taking in my gaping mouth. “Yeah. Uh, he’s part of the reason Nathan tried to kidnap and sell you. He needed to pay Johnny T back because apparently he’s not a guy you want to owe money to.”
“He’s in the mob?” I ask on a whisper, my eyes wide with shock. Becca’s part of a Family?
He hums. “Noo, I don’t think anything as official as that. He’s just a very powerful man who, um, doesn’t let things like legalities get in his way. Apparently.”
O-kay. I stare through the windshield. Becca was related to a dangerous man. The dangerous man Nathan spoke about, the one who scared him enough to want to sell me. This means…something, but I honestly can’t even think about it right now. I just want to be home, to have some normality for a little while, sink into it for a little while.
It helps that when we pull up to the cottage, it’s to see the driveway packed with cars I recognize. Before Anders even cuts the engine, my friends flood the front porch, faces anxious and hopeful. I open my door, put one foot on the ground and find myself engulfed in a group hug to end all group hugs.
They’re all talking at once, their words jumbling together in a confusing mixture of teary relief, jubilation, and in Becca’s case, regret.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobs, somehow burrowing her way between Jolene and Nessie to bear hug me. “I didn’t know he was in deep with Uncle Johnny. If I had known—”
“It’s okay,” I assure her. It isn’t her fault Nathan borrowed money from her uncle that he had no hopes of paying back. That’s the honest to God’s truth. But then I lie through my teeth. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”
&n
bsp; They crowd in again for another hug. Looking over their heads, I see Anders and Beau standing together watching us. I’m not okay. Like really not okay, but I don’t want to make them feel any worse. Any of them. I can see their concern for me in their eyes and it takes everything I have not to collapse.
When they finally let me go, Beau’s there to snatch me up into an even bigger hug, lifting me clean off my feet. “Leeena,” he sings in my ear. “Damn girl, you had us worried.” He puts me back down and, while he’s smiling, his blue eyes are serious. “You are okay, right?”
“I am, thank you,” I whisper, embarrassed to be the center of so much attention.
His dimple peeks out at me as he beams. “Good. Now do something with this guy,” he says with a nod at Anders. “He’s been worried.”
I know. I can see it in the way he watches me, as though he’s waiting for me to fall apart. I’m going to, I know it, but not here. Not in front of everyone. I can hold it together a little longer, right?
Still, I slip out of Beau’s embrace, right into Anders’ arms and nestle close to his chest. Closing my eyes, I can almost pretend tonight didn’t happen. Except then I see Mom’s desperation for the drugs, Nathan holding the gun to me as he talked about selling me, and I start to shake.
Anders’ big hand rubs my back in soothing circles. “I got ya, babe,” he murmurs in my ear. “I got you.”
“Go start a shower for her,” a gruff voice orders. “Someone find some food and wine or some shit like that.”
Becca shrieks in surprise, prompting me to peek from the shelter of Anders’ arms. Rien emerges from the shadows, his gaze focused on me and me alone. Although he does cut her a quick glance which she ignores by flouncing into the house with her nose in the air.
He stops next to us while everyone else heads into the house, obeying his unspoken demand for privacy. I scoot a little closer to Anders, not really glad to have Rien’s undivided attention. I’m not scared of him, per se, but he’s intimidating and after the day I’ve had I don’t need the added stress.
“Give me a minute with her, lillebror?” he asks Anders, who tenses. Rien holds up his hands. “Just want to speak with her privately.”
My fingers subconsciously clench on the back of Anders’ shirt, as though to hold him in place so I’m not left semi-alone with his brother. The two look at each other, some silent communication going on before Anders nods. Turning back to me, he presses a soft, reassuring kiss to my forehead. I stare at him, pleading with my eyes for him not to leave me here, but he just gives me a crooked smile.
“Give him a chance.” Another kiss, this one to my lips. “I’ll be right there if you need me.”
I really don’t want to let him go, but he’s asking me to give Rien a chance. For what, I don’t know. To tell me how I’ve messed up Anders’ life? How I should walk away now and take my baggage with me? Then I take a deep breath. So what if he blasts me with his words? I’ve been through hell tonight, stood up to Nathan, and managed to act somewhat solid.
I’ll never be glad for what Nathan’s done and planned to do with me, or my mom’s lack of caring, but because of them I feel stronger. I am stronger. I just have to prove it to Anders. I release my kung-fu grip on his shirt and lace my fingers together, forcing myself to adopt a calm, collected expression.
Anders gives me a full-blown smile, as though he’s proud of me, his pretty blue eyes warm with love—for me and Rien—before he shuffles away from us. He only walks away a few yards, but it feels like a football field. I make myself look away from him, meeting Rien’s watchful gaze. There’s an almost-smile on his face that crinkles the skin around his right eye and shows off an indention in his cheek that’d be a dimple on anyone else.
Then we just sort of stand there, an awkward silence filling the space between us. Rien’s almost-smile fades and he twists his lips. I don’t know what he could possibly want from me other than to tell me to stay away from Anders and I’m not going to do that. I’m in love with my Viking, have gone through hell and back to be with him, and no one’s going to get in the way of us. I may have let Rien talk crap about me once before, but not anymore.
The longer I think about that, the steadier I feel. The shakiness of my near-kidnapping all but fades as anger takes its place. And I’m going to lay into him if he so much as hints—
Finally, he clears his throat. “I had a little talk with the hacker,” he says abruptly. Automatically, my gaze drops to his hands which sport bruised and scraped knuckles. “Yeah, that kind of talk. Everything’s taken care of.” He smiles briefly. “You did good.”
I don’t think I did, but I don’t say agree or disagree. It isn’t like I can pretend today never happened. That isn’t an option when everyone obviously knows, but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. Avoidance has helped me get through a lot of difficult things in my life. Yes, I unburdened myself to Anders about my dad and home life, but this… I swallow the knot forming in my throat, not wanting to appear weak in front of Rien.
Neither of us say anything for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from inside the cottage and the night animals starting to stir. I drop my gaze to the ground. This is so awkward. Like he’s trying to be nice, but doesn’t know how and I may have decided not to take any crap from him anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with him either.
Then Rien shuffles his feet, taking two long steps forward. I look up in surprise that quickly turns into outright shock when he wraps his big arms around me and tugs me against his chest in a hug that nearly cracks my ribs. It’s…weird. So weird, but also strangely comforting. He has my arms pinned to my sides, so I can’t hug him back if I wanted to, so I go still and analyze the differences between him and Anders.
For one, he seems a lot harder than my Viking. As in, his muscles have muscles. Secondly, he smells completely different. Where Anders is all Ivory soap and musk, Rien is like a thunderstorm. Ozone and cloves and something infinitely darker. Also, he obviously isn’t much of a hugger because he doesn’t relax. Then again, neither do I. It has to be one of the most awkward hugs I’ve ever experienced, but on the other hand, it’s also soothing.
Just as abruptly as he grabbed me, he lets go and takes a step back. “Glad you’re not dead,” he mutters. “And…” He pauses to clear his throat. “I’m sorry.”
I blink at him. His face is tight with obvious discomfort. “Wait, why are you sorry?”
He runs his hand over his scalp, the hair growing back making a rasping sound. “Up until I saw that motherfucker holdin’ a gun on you, I still thought it was a scam between you and your stepfather.” He pins me in place with his gaze, which is both apologetic and defiant. “Ain’t gotta lotta experience with good people. I wouldn’t let Anders leave when we first found out what that dick planned and I should’ve. For that, I’m sorry.”
Thinking about what happened right before Anders did show up, I feel my heart trip over itself. If he’d been there a little sooner, he might have been the one shot instead of me and Mom. My stomach somersaults at the thought and I grip Rien’s arm, conveying my own thanks with my eyes. Anders could be— I don’t even want to think what could’ve happened if Rien hadn’t held my boyfriend back.
When he nods, I know he understands what I’m trying to tell him. “You need work, but we’ll get to that later.” Before I can ask what he means, he turns to face Anders. “Make sure she gets some rest.”
“What—?”
“Short Fuse,” Rien bellows, cutting me off.
“Who—?”
The front door of the cottage is flung open and Becca charges out with a look of murder on her face. “What the fuck did you call me?”
“You answered to it, didn’t you?” Rien taunts with a dangerous smile. “I’ll be seeing you again, real soon.”
“Not fucking likely.”
His smile stretches from ear to ear, showcasing those indentions in his cheeks that are not dimples. “We’ll see, Short Fuse.”
Becca snarls. “Swear to god, if you don’t stop calling me that—”
But Rien’s already gone, fading into the shadows once more like a wisp of smoke. What’s going on? At some point between last night and the attack, Rien had been replaced by a pod person or something, because this is not the same guy who broke into Beau’s house and called me a bitch. Either that, or I hit my head at some point tonight. Nothing makes sense.
“C’mon, babe,” Anders says, his arm coming around my shoulders to pull me into his side. I didn’t even see him approach, such was my shock at Rien’s transformation. “Becca got the shower started for you.”
I allow him to lead me up the stairs and into the cottage, Becca closing the door behind us. I hear the others in the kitchen talking, but Anders steers me in the direction of our room and the bathroom where steam billows from the shower. He lets go of me only long enough to close the door and lock it.
Standing in the middle of the bathroom like a lost soul, I watch as he starts stripping, pulling his dirty shirt over his head. My gaze lingers on his torso, absently admiring the sculpted muscles, then follow his hands as he tugs open his shorts, dragging them and his boxer briefs down his legs. At some point, he’d kicked off his flip-flops and when he straightens again, he’s naked.
When I blink again, he’s right in front of me, his warm gaze locked on my face as his hands touch the first button of my work shirt. “Okay?” he asks, his concern evident, as though worried he’ll set me off. He pauses, a frown forming on his face. “I just want to help you, okay? Nothing else.”
Reaching up, I slide my hands around his, giving them a squeeze. My heart is so full of love for him, not even the weird fuzziness in my brain can mute it. “I love you,” I say softly, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the thundering of the shower. “I may not know anything else right now, but the one thing I do know is that I love and trust you. So yes, this is okay, although I think I can do it on my own.”