Retaliation: An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Landish,Lauren

  “You're going to kill me anyway, so why the fuck should I stop?” I ask, turning to face him. “You don't care if I live or die.”

  He nods, then shrugs, still grinning. “No, but I am bored. I had hoped that Nathan would be more of a challenge than he was. Tell you what, Yankee. You step away from Nathan Black, I put the knife away. If you can beat me, you win. I'll even let you go for your Smith. Inferior weapon for an inferior man.”

  I dive, going for my pistol, but Orloff's on my heels, kicking it away before I can even get a finger on it. I roll, trying to get to my feet, but he kicks the back of my knee, sending me sprawling onto my back, and I'm left looking up at him as he backs away, still grinning that madman's smile. “Come on, Yankee. Even a pussy art dealer must be a better fighter than that. I know Russian women who could kick your ass.”

  “And I know American women who would eat you for breakfast,” I reply, kicking out with my left leg, hoping to catch him in the balls. I'm off, but I at least hit his thigh and he backs up a step, grinning. “Come on, motherfucker.”

  “Actually no, I didn't fuck my mother. I have, however, fucked yours,” Orloff taunts as I get to my feet. “Come on, Yankee. Your friends will not have ignored those shots for long. Finish this soon, or else.”

  I charge, and he steps to the side, tripping me as I go by, sending me sprawling to my stomach. Before I can recover, Orloff stomps in between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the ground. “Stupid American. You and your fucking guns. You're not even worth killing. Do svidaniya.”

  He rears back with his knife hand, but suddenly Nathan tries to tackle him. I don't know how, I don't think Orloff knows either, but Nathan clings to him with a bulldog's tenacity, until Orloff punches him viciously in the eye, sending him tumbling to the ground. “Nathan!”

  I'm on my knees, but my back still is so pained I can barely move, and Orloff doesn't have time anymore. His foot comes around, I can see his boot coming toward my eyes, and then everything goes black.

  Chapter 17

  Andrea

  The two pistol shots shatter the quiet of the morning, sending a shock through all of us. I've checked on Melissa, she's upstairs with BA, and she's doing well. Carson was right. Melissa only needs someone else to need her, and she's able to find the strength, at least temporarily.

  I'm coming down the stairs when the first shot goes off, and I run down the rest of the way, looking for Jackson and Katrina. “What happened?”

  “Single shot, sounds like Nathan's pistol,” Katrina says, her Glock up and pointed toward the windows of the kitchen. Another shot comes, and her eyes flick toward the back, judging our next move. “Cover the front.”

  “Shouldn't we go out there and help them?” I ask, and Katrina shakes her head.

  “Either they've taken care of it, or they were already taken out,” Katrina says, her eyes cold and hard. “I'm sorry Andi, but Nathan would want us here. Carson, too.”

  I nod, swallowing the fear and hurt in my chest and go to the living room, holding my pistol up. Jackson follows me, his own pistol ready. “She's not trying to be cruel.”

  “I know,” I respond, setting aside my emotions for a moment. There's no time for them, that'll come later. “I'll cover the stairs.”

  Jackson nods and I stay by the main staircase, trying my best not to be scared shitless. Tension seeps through the air as the minutes crawl by, nothing but the sounds of the morning cicadas starting to creep in through the windows.

  I'm sweating, I know from a mix of fear and nervousness, and my hand is shaking so hard I can't stand it. “Jackson... talk to me.”

  “What about?” he asks quietly, his eyes still scanning the windows, looking toward the street.

  “Did you and Katrina ever build that Corvette model?” I ask, thinking about anything to get my mind off of the situation at hand. “You know, that '67?”

  “We got the main painting and gluing done, so now we're working on decaling and then finishing it up,” he says, a smile in his voice. “We're taking our time.”

  “What's next?” I ask. “Another car?”

  “Actually, we were thinking RC,” Jackson says, chuckling. “Something that we can play around with once BA starts walking.”

  “You're going to put a tail on it and make her chase it, aren't you?” I ask, laughing. “That would so be you.”

  “Nah, not unless she wants to,” Jackson replies. “Actually, Katrina was joking that she's going to get something strong enough that I'll have to work hard chasing it. I'm faster at running than she...”

  An explosion rocks the house from the back, and smoke starts to billow out of the kitchen area. “Katrina!”

  Jackson runs toward the kitchen, while Melissa appears at the top of the stairs, BA in her arms. The baby is screaming, panicked by the loud noise, and I hold up my hand. “Stay there! Protect her!”

  Melissa nods, her face a pasty eggshell white, but she backs up again, and I run toward the kitchen. Before I can even get halfway there Jackson and Katrina are backing down the hallway, Katrina firing her pistol quickly but calmly. “Living room!”

  I back up, trying to raise my pistol as purplish black smoke fills the hallway. I can see something, but I don't know what to make of anything as the three of us back up. I get to the base of the stairs and retreat up two steps, my pistol ready, while Jackson and Katrina arrange themselves side by side.

  Vadim Orloff bursts from the smoke like a demon from the depths of hell, his kick catching Jackson in the shoulder and sending my brother flying. He's got something in his right hand, but Katrina kicks, catching him in the wrist and sending what I now see is a straight razor flying out of his hand where it clatters on the floor. “Ah, the woman. I've been warned about you,” Orloff says, smiling still.

  Katrina lashes out with another kick. Orloff blocks it, but Katrina follows with a pointed finger attack that catches him in his right arm, and he grunts, backing up and shaking out the arm.

  “You do have skill. Not too many people know about those.”

  Jackson's recovered, while I'm trying desperately to get a clear shot, but I don't have anything. Every time I think Orloff is clear, Katrina's moving in between us, and I realize that she's keeping herself between Orloff and the staircase, protecting her daughter and me.

  “She's not the only one you have to worry about, asshole,” Jackson says, darting inside with an elbow strike. Orloff blocks, but it gives Katrina an opening, the two of them working together. She comes underneath, but Orloff spins away, and suddenly he's between them and me, his eyes darting between all of us.

  “Andi, down!” Jackson yells, and he fires. Orloff's fast though, and the bullet just seems to graze his ribs as he rotates, his foot crashing into Jackson's side and I can hear ribs break as Jackson is sent hurtling backward. Katrina attacks, but he spins again, groaning as Katrina's gun hand catches him in his wounded side, but he goes with it, his fist flying out and catching her in the back of her left shoulder, sending her crashing to the floor.

  “No!” I scream, leaping from the staircase onto his back. Orloff staggers, I don't think he expected me to do anything, but he recovers quickly, throwing me off his back and to the floor. In a whirl of hands he's disarmed me, and has my pistol pointed against my head, and he's backing toward the front door.

  “That's enough,” he says in his pained, accented English as Katrina gets to her feet, her pistol raised. I see Melissa start to come down the stairs, but Orloff is using me as a meat shield, holding me in between them. “One more step, and you pick her brains up off the floor with the kitchen mop.”

  We bump into the door and Orloff jams the pistol into my temple harder. “Reach back, open the door,” he says, turning me slightly. “Don't piss me off. Your father might want you alive, but he's willing to accept your corpse if he has to.”

  “We will find you, and we will kill you,” Katrina growls, and Orloff laughs.

  “Perhaps. But considering that I've disabled three of y
ou, killed another, and am leaving with one? I like my odds,” he says as I get the door open.

  “Katrina?” I ask, and Orloff's arm tightens around my neck, cutting off my air as he drags me back.

  “We'll find you, Andrea. You fight, understand?”

  Orloff drags me backward down the steps, his arm loosening just enough to let me take a single, fiery sweet breath of air. He keeps backing up, until we're at the street, and I see a black car parked in the shadows. Katrina's emerging, her left arm hanging limp at her side, but her right arm still holding her pistol on Orloff as we round the curve in the road. His arm tightens, cutting off all air. Darkness starts to creep in, and I try to fight it, but it's impossible. As everything goes dark, I only hope that Katrina is right, that they can find me.

  Chapter 18

  Carson

  The first thing I'm aware of is a cold damp chill on my forehead. I groan, and realize there's some sort of dark red light filling my vision. It's only after a few moments that I realize my eyes are still closed, and the pain starts. “Fuuuuuckkkkk... what happened?”

  “Best we can figure, you got kicked in the face,” a calm, familiar voice says, and I try my best to put a name to that voice. “You've been out for nearly twenty minutes.”

  Twenty... Nathan! I open my eyes, hot daggers of pain stabbing my eyes and I close them again, quickly. “Shiiiit. Bad idea.”

  “It's okay Carson, the EMT will be here soon,” the voice says again, and I realize it's Melissa. Of course it is, who else would take care of me when I'm injured? She's done it her entire life. “Katrina already has them coming in to take a look at everyone.”

  I nod slowly, and try opening my eyes again. I'm still lying in the dooryard behind the barn, but Melissa's adjusted herself so that she's blocking the worst of the sun from my eyes. It's slow, very slow, but I eventually can open my eyes without feeling like my eyes are being gouged out by flaming hot forks. “My eyes hurt.”

  “You might have a broken cheekbone,” Melissa says simply, her voice still so calm. “Don't try to touch your face.”

  “What's the damage? And Nathan...” I groan, trying to sit up and failing. “BA? Andrea?”

  “BA is fine, she's calming down now that she's with Jackson,” Melissa says. I hear a vehicle pull into the dooryard, and then hear Katrina's voice telling the driver to stop, and then they talk, but I'm not able to make out the words, my head is ringing too much. There's movement and commotion, and suddenly someone else joins us. He's dressed like a regular paramedic, but I get the sense he's more than that.

  “Can you talk?” he asks, flashing a light in my eyes.

  “Fuck man, the light's a little bright,” I groan, and he moves on. “Nathan?”

  “Katrina did a quick tracheotomy on him, he's going to have a scar on his throat when he recovers. But he's alive,” Melissa says, relief in her voice. “We moved him to the porch, but didn't want to move you. She said she wasn't sure about head injuries. And we were tired enough trying to move Nathan.”

  “What about Jackson? And Andrea?”

  “Rest,” Melissa says, stroking my head. “We'll get you patched up, and then we can talk.”

  “No...” I groan, struggling to my knees, my head hanging like a dog as I fight back the nausea that's rolling through my guts. Oh yeah, I've got a concussion for sure. Bad one too, from the feeling. “Tell me, 'Lissa.”

  “Jackson's got a broken leg, while Andrea... he kidnapped her.”

  Melissa's words hit me like a sledgehammer. I try to get to my feet, but the world swims, and I drop back to my knees, gasping. “Andrea... I have to find Andrea...”

  Melissa's hands are on my shoulders, pushing me down. “I know, Carson. But you can't do anything right now. The EMT will be back soon, and he's taking us all to the clinic.”

  I nod, closing my eyes, but in the darkness, all I can think of is Andrea, and finding her, rescuing her. Her blue eyes glow in the darkness, and I chase after them as hard as I can, but they keep getting farther and farther away. I'm running as hard as I can, but fail, and the blackness swallows me again.

  “He's coming around.”

  I groan again, opening my eyes slowly to see that I'm in some sort of hospital room, maybe the clinic that Melissa mentioned earlier. The lights are almost all the way off, with just a little bit of glow coming from some sort of recessed lighting.

  “What happened?” I ask again, looking around. Melissa's still here, and I see Katrina as well. “Where's Nathan? Jackson? Andrea?”

  “Nathan's in the intensive care room,” Melissa says softly, worry in her voice. “The doctors say they got to him in time. The poison wasn't in full effect, but it's going to take a long time for him to recover. Jackson's in casting right now, along with BA. She's fine.”

  “And Andrea? I remember you saying she was kidnapped?”

  Katrina turns to me, and I see that she's wearing a sling on her left arm, and she's got a bruise on her cheek that is quickly spreading. “Orloff took her. I already called my friends, but he's got a lead, and I couldn't get a shot off with the way he was holding Andrea.”

  I swallow, sitting back. “And me?”

  “Grade two concussion, hairline fracture of your cheekbone. From what Melissa told the docs, you've had that before?”

  I nod, sitting up the rest of the way. “Years ago. I told Jackson about it. But BA's okay?”

  Katrina nods, her shoulders slumping as the pain and fear start to hit her. “Melissa protected her well.”

  “I knew you could,” I whisper, looking at Melissa. “You're strong, 'Lissa.”

  “I have to be,” Melissa says, her voice quavering a little. “But Nathan...”

  “Go to him,” I tell her, reaching out and taking her hand. “I'll be fine, and I've got things to do anyway.”

  “Carson...”

  I shake my head, and kiss Melissa's hand. “Go to him, 'Lissa. I'll be fine.”

  Melissa nods, and leaves the room, turning left out the door. With just me and Katrina, I'm able to set aside my concern for Melissa for a moment, and look at Katrina. “Hard questions time. First, where the fuck are we?”

  “An underground clinic,” Katrina says, sitting down next to me in a chair. “It's closer to New Orleans than Paradis. The doc's a good doctor who lost his license because of a drug problem about ten years ago. Since then, he's gone underground.”

  “And he can do that?” I ask, surprised, and Katrina chuckles. “What?”

  “There's a whole world that exists parallel to the one you know. It's not the criminal underworld, that exists in both. This underground world is nearly as capable as the regular world. In some ways it's more capable, because the people who are in it don't have to deal with the same bullshit the regular world does. In this case, there's a perfectly good doctor with a good clinic, good equipment, and all of it doesn't technically exist. When you go outside, you'll see that this place is supposed to be an office that supposedly sells soft serve machines to ice cream parlors. But, Nathan's getting good treatment. Jackson and I, our injuries are minor. We could have gotten fixed up by a vet if we wanted.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Jackson's got a cracked fibula, hurts like hell but he can walk if he needs to, the tibia can take the weight. He's also got some cracked ribs,” Katrina says. “My left shoulder's dislocated, with one hell of a bruise on my shoulder blade to match. Oh, and this smack in the face, which just looks ugly.”

  I groan in frustration. We got our asses kicked. “Tell me we at least hurt the guy? Nathan caught him with one in the shoulder, I think.”

  “I saw that, and Jackson got another glancing shot to his ribs, but he was hurt. On the other hand...” Katrina says, then shakes her head. “I thought I was good.”

  “You are,” I reassure her. “But from what Andrea told me about when he attacked you before outside the clinic... he got her, right?”

  “He did. But when he popped my shoulder, he put me down, and she jum
ped on his back before he could hurt me more. She's got balls, that's for sure.”

  I nod and sit up, steadying myself as the world swims. I swing my legs off the bed and stand up. I make sure I keep my legs straight, my eyes closed, and my hand on the bed rail until I'm sure that I'm balanced.

  “What are you doing?” Katrina asks, and I feel her hand on my arm. I shrug it off, but not too hard, I know she's just concerned.

  “She's out there, Katrina. I'm going to find her, and bring her back.”

  “Do you have any idea how in the hell to do that?” Katrina asks, not harshly, but instead hopeful. “Because I've been racking my head. I reached out to the people I know, but Vadim Orloff... he can disappear very easily.”

  “There's one way I can think of,” I say, opening my eyes. “I go to Peter DeLaCoeur, I put a gun to his head, and tell him unless Andrea's delivered safe to me, I blow his brains all over the French Quarter.”

  Katrina looks into my eyes, then nods. “Do you know where he is?”

  I shake my head slowly, then point. “Nathan does. He's been trying to deflect Peter, I'm sure he knows.”

  “He's unconscious,” Katrina says. “How are we going to find out from him?”

  I smirk, and pat her on her right shoulder. “Come on. I thought you were some sort of hot shit hacker? I'm sure you can take his cell phone and figure out something.”

  Katrina smiles, her eyes lighting up. “I can do that even one-handed. All right, but I'm going to need some stuff from the house.”

  “So do I.”

  Grabbing Katrina's laptop is easy since she had it stored in her bedroom. She says it's not as powerful as her home unit, but that she can do what we need with it. I'm just glad the house isn't disturbed. We're far enough from the neighbors that the pistol shots went ignored, it seems. The good part of country living is you get your privacy. The bad part is... sometimes that privacy isn't always a good thing.