“How does your leg look?” Violet asked.
“Like a med student patched me up.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“A very good thing. You did good, Violet. Real good.”
Her cheeks turned pink and her smile stretched her lips. “Really?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How did you get me inside?”
Violet took a sip of her wine. “You were semi-conscious. Enough to put one foot in front of the other to get to the bedroom, at least.”
“Right.”
“You were mumbling nonsense.”
Great. In my stupor, there was no telling what sort of garbage I’d sputtered. I didn’t ask her what I’d said. I didn’t want to know.
Violet gave me a weak smile, which suggested it was best that we skipped past this part of the conversation. Then, she nodded back down the hall. “Would you like to shower before we eat? There are fresh towels in the bathroom. And they have really nice soap. It might help you feel better.”
A shower sounded glorious.
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” I paused before turning to head back down the hall. “Violet?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve made sure all the doors and windows are locked, right?”
She scoffed at me. “What do you think I am? A rookie. Come on. I’ve been paying attention. I made sure everything was locked. Do you want to double check and make sure?”
“No. I trust you.”
I could feel her eyes on my back as I limped down the hall and made my way to the bathroom at the opposite end. Once I’d closed the door behind me I leaned up against it and closed my eyes.
Just being on my feet took a considerable physical toll on me. I still had a lot of recovery ahead of me. And something told me I wasn’t going to be able to take the time I needed to get back to tip top shape.
Undressing, I turned on the shower. While waiting for it to heat up, I inspected my wounds.
The one in my side didn’t seem too bad. Violet had covered it with some kind of ointment and a bandage to stop it from grazing against the bed sheets. The skin was still raw as hell and hurt like a bitch when I touched it, but I wasn’t too concerned about that. I was more concerned about the bullet still inside me. From what I could tell there was no internal bleeding. Not that I was an expert, but all the signs pointed to a wound healing normally.
My leg was in decent shape, too. It still hurt like hell to walk on it, but once the muscle started to heal I’d be moving around pretty well. I was under no delusions about how lucky I’d gotten. Neither bullet had hit any important bits it seemed, which was a damn miracle. A gunshot wound to the leg was serious business—especially in the thigh. So far, it looked like I’d avoided infection as well, which had been my main concern before passing out after Violet stitched me up.
For now, all I had to worry about was healing.
And, thanks to Violet, it looked like we had a place to lay low while I did.
Chapter Six
Violet
Xavier made short work of his food. He must have been starving, and his body needed nourishment to heal. So this was a good thing.
Maybe I should have prepared more.
But, there was no telling how long it would be safe for us to stay here if the Shades caught onto our trail, and this family only had so much in their freezer we could use. We’d have to be careful about our consumption and make the food last so we could avoid having to run out to any grocery stores.
Once our two weeks were up, we could emerge back in the real world. Until then, I hoped we could hide out here, laying low so Xavier had time to heal.
Or at least start healing. Not that I knew much about bullet wounds, but I was fairly sure he wasn’t going to be firing on all cylinders after only two weeks.
Xavier set his utensils down on his now nearly clean plate and slumped back in his chair. “That was good.”
“I’m glad you liked it. There’s a bit more on the stove if you’re still hungry.”
“I’ve had plenty.”
He sat quietly while I finished my meal. The only sounds were that of my chewing, my fork occasionally grazing the ceramic plate, and the soft tick of the clock above the archway to the kitchen.
I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and my mind was still reeling trying to grasp the severity of it all. I wish I could have one more day of normalcy. One more day to remind myself what my real life used to be like. Shopping dates with my best friend. Clara. Fancy outings with attractive and wealthy men who, at the time, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with. And, weekly dinners with my father. Before I knew he was a criminal, of course.
Not to mention a murderer.
He may not have pulled the trigger of the gun that killed Xavier’s parents, but he’d had a hand in it. If not for my father, Xavier would have been spared a life of service to an organization that was now hell bent on killing him,
And me.
“What are you thinking about?” Xavier asked.
I hadn’t eaten more than half of my dinner. I set my fork down on the edge of my plate. “All of it. And my dad, mostly.”
“What about him?”
I licked my lips. This wasn’t something I really wanted to talk about. Maybe because I didn’t know how to talk about it. “What he’s done. And what he’ll continue to do if his behavior goes unchecked.”
Xavier studied me calmly. “His choices are not your responsibility.”
“I know. But things are different now. Now that I know what he did—especially what he did to you—things can’t ever go back to how they were. And I owe it to the people my father has squashed under his thumb to do the right thing and expose him. It’s the right thing to do. Isn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted Xavier’s approval or permission. In fact, I wasn’t sure why I was asking him at all.
“Well, asking an assassin about moral decisions is probably not wise, Violet. Especially an assassin with a grudge against your father.”
I rubbed my palms on my thighs. “You’re right. Never mind.”
The clock ticked halfway around its face above the archway.
Xavier shifted in his seat. “I hope you don’t feel any obligation to me over this, Violet.”
“Obligation?”
“Yes. What happened to my parents happened. And I have long since moved on. You have no obligation to me to handle this any particular way. I will support whatever you choose.”
Was that the permission I was looking for? Because it sure felt good to hear him say it. And it felt good to have him looking at me the way he was right now. With genuine concern. At least that’s what I thought the look he was giving me was. Calm, considerate, and trying to understand.
“Thank you,” I said, softly.
When he didn’t say anything else, I stood and brought our dishes into the kitchen. Xavier followed, moving slowly to join me beside the sink as I started filling one half with hot soapy water. The family used lavender scented dish soap and the smell of it reminded me a little bit of home.
Not that I’d ever had to do dishes for myself.
Yet, I’d walked into the kitchen and smelled this smell while Annie scrubbed dishes, so the scent evoked memories.
I started washing the dishes, savoring the moment. Perhaps it was the opportunity to do something so simple.
“There’s a dishwasher you know,” Xavier said, pointing his chin toward the dishwasher a couple cupboards down.
“I know. But this feels normal. Mundane. It’s tactile and I don’t know. Simple. Predictable. I’ve needed it. You should sit. Relax.”
“I’m fine.”
I didn’t believe him. Not really. He didn’t look like himself yet, and he certainly didn’t move like it. His usual graceful movements were now slower and shakier. He favored his right leg and his side. I was fairly certain he was still at a stage of recovery wher
e, if we were at a hospital, the doctors wouldn’t have him on his feet yet.
But I was no doctor, and my telling him what to do wasn’t going to get us anywhere. So I dropped it.
I washed the dishes and set them on a towel on the counter to dry before turning to face Xavier.
“Do you think the Shades back in Washington already know what happened at the coal mine?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“What does that mean for us?”
Xavier shrugged. A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes, and he averted his gaze to the linoleum floor. “It means we’re still their top targets. Hell, we’re probably their only targets at this point. I’m sure they’ve dropped or put all other contracts on hold for the time being.”
“All for us?” My pulse fluttered in my throat and my mouth went dry.
“We have cost them dearly. In men and resources. Not to mention reputation. If word ever got out that they had a rogue Shade on their hands—well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be good for Arman.”
“Your boss?”
He nodded.
“How many more Shades does he even have left to send after us?”
“At the worst? About thirty.”
“Thirty?” I balked.
“Yes.”
I leaned on the counter and shook my head in disbelief. “What are we going to do?”
“We keep running,” he said simply.
I looked up at him. “Keep running? Where? And for how long? They caught up to us easily. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we’re equipped for another fight like that.”
“Not presently. No.”
“I don’t want to do this forever.”
Xavier arched an eyebrow. “We are past the point of getting what we want, Violet. Far past it.”
“So your solution is to just run from place to place and hope they don’t catch up with us? I think it’s pretty obvious that at some point or another they’re going to find us. And we’re going to have to do something about it. Right?”
“We?” He smirked. “I don’t think so.”
“What does that mean?”
Xavier moved to stand across from me and lean against the kitchen island. I couldn’t tell if he went to it to take some weight off his leg or to put more space between us. “It means we can’t stand and fight because I can’t trust you to do what you’re told.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You proved back at the hotel that you have a complete inability to listen to simple instructions. And you nearly got yourself killed.”
“Inability?” I snapped.
He stared blankly at me.
I pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “I saved your ass at the coal mine. You’d be dead if I hadn’t decided to come after you and—”
“And you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.”
Asshole.
I let my hand fall to my side. “You mean if you’d decided to pull the trigger that night after all?”
Xavier flinched. And it wasn’t because he’d moved too fast and hurt himself. It was because of my words.
They cut him and I was glad.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not my fault that we’re in this mess. And it’s not my fault your asshole friends are coming after us. And—”
“They’re not my friends.”
“They were,” I hissed. “They were, and before all this you were perfectly fine with killing innocent people. How many people have you murdered, Xavier? Dozens? Hundreds?”
“Enough.”
My face burned with anger and my hands were curled into fists at my sides. “I’ll sleep in one of the other bedrooms. I want to be alone.”
I didn’t wait for him to say anything. Instead, I turned on my heel and marched out of the kitchen. I passed the living room and went down the long hall to slip into what I assumed was the guest room. There was a computer desk and a bookshelf against one wall and the double bed on the other. The sheets were floral printed and the room was all crisp colors in shades of blues and grays.
I shut the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed as the anger in my chest softened into misery.
Being alone was the last thing I wanted right now.
But Xavier was being a jerk. He was either oblivious to or didn’t care about my feelings. And after everything we’d been through I thought he would finally see me in a different light. A capable light.
As part of a team.
I grit my teeth. “Once a self-serving asshole assassin, always a self-serving asshole assassin.”
Chapter Seven
Xavier
When the following morning rolled around, it found me lying on my back in the bedroom of strangers, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Violet had slept at all.
We’d left things on bad terms the night before.
She was pissed. And so was I. What was more infuriating was her complete lack of awareness and failure to acknowledge that things could have gone very badly had she gotten caught by the Shades the other night at the hotel.
Sure, without her daring rescue I’d be dead. For all I knew, the Shades might have left my corpse in that abandoned tunnel and just brought my head to Arman for proof of my execution. He was going to need some assurance that they had managed to put me down, especially after I’d managed to slaughter so many of his men.
I knit my fingers behind my head and let out a sigh as the early sunlight fell through the bedroom window.
If someone had told me six months ago that it would all come to this, I never would have believed them. I certainly wouldn’t have thought I’d be the one responsible for killing nearly fifteen Shades.
Fifteen of my brothers.
Men I was supposed to be banded with for life, regardless of how short that life was going to be.
I would have expected to feel guilt, too.
But there was nothing. Not a trace of remorse, sadness, or regret. There was only stone cold emptiness. If I was being honest with myself, there was even a little bit of satisfaction.
All of my kills up until now had been paid targets. Businessmen. Politicians. People who were incapable of causing the kind of harm to another person that I could do without blinking. People who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—fight back when push came to shove and their life was on the line.
But the Shades were something else entirely.
This was war, and I was still standing. I’d earned each of my kills with my own fucking blood and fists, and to hell with them all. It felt good to be the one still standing. There was a lot of blood on my hands. And a lot on theirs.
Maybe I was doing the world a favor by mowing them down.
Maybe when this all ended and I joined them in Hell, Washington would be better off. So would Violet. And so would everyone who ever made a mistake worthy of earning a target on their backs for the Shades to track down.
I glanced at the empty side of the bed. It had been hard falling asleep knowing Violet was so far away. I wanted her here, beside me. Within reach, so if shit went sideways I could lay hands on her easily and get her out of harm’s way. This was a safe place. The Shades would never come looking for us here. But having her sleeping in the other room still unnerved me.
Yet, her antics last night had been too much. I’d be damned if I was going to reach out to her first. She had to grow the fuck up and stop acting like a daddy’s girl.
With a groan, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, peering down at my side and the layer of white bandaging I’d covered the wound with after my shower last night. Slowly, and gently, I peeled it off to reveal the sticky and burned skin underneath. It was pink and tender and still hurt like a bitch when the air got to it, but it was healing.
Heading into the bathroom outside the bedroom door, I took a shower, careful not to let the hot stream of water hit my side. This required a serious effort, especially since I didn’t really want it hitting the wound on my right thigh, either.
Somehow I managed.
Once I was clean, I threw on some clothes from the closet of the bedroom, a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, then padded out into the kitchen.
Violet was sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee and reading a book. She looked up at me and watched me go to the coffee pot to pour myself a mug. I took a sip, burned my tongue, and scowled into the dark swirling caffeine.
Violet returned her attention to her book and did a noble job of ignoring me for the next three minutes.
“Still not talking to me?” I asked, though I wanted to just pick her up and shake her.
Her green eyes never left the page. “I’m reading.”
Now I wanted to shake her really hard. “Did you sleep well?”
Violet closed her book and put it down with a huff. “No. Not really.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have gone picking a fight. Then she would have been able to sleep in the bed.
“Shame,” I said.
Violet looked like an angry cat who wanted to sink her claws into my shins while she gnawed on my kneecaps. “And you?”
“Like a baby,” I lied.
“Good for you.” She picked her book back up, flipped it open, and continued reading. I watched her eyes flick back and forth across the page for a few minutes before I cleared my throat. She didn’t look at me, and her tone dripped with acid when she spoke my name.
“Xavier. What do you want?”
“I want to know why you’re giving me the silent treatment.”
“I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”
“Then put your damn book down.”
She closed and slammed the book down. “Happy now?”
No. Not even close. “What do you want from me?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask.”
I laughed bitterly. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I don’t do ‘I’m sorry.’ Especially not when I’m the one who’s in the right.”
Violet’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
“What?”
She got to her feet and planted both hands flat on the kitchen table. “Listen. I don’t know what has you in such a foul mood, but I’m not the one who shot you. And I’m not the one who got us into this mess. That’s all on you, hot shot. And for the record, you’re not in the right.”
Dark Lover: Sins of the Night Page 4