by C. Luca
Copyright
‘Til Death Do Us Part
Copyright© 2020 by C. Luca
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.
The author has asserted her rights under the Copyright Act of 1976 to be identified as the author of this book.
Photo credit: Shutterstock.com
Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
ONE
Blakely
I’ve spent hours staring out the bus window beside me, and as I watch the passing scenery, I continue to doubt my sanity.
In the back of my mind, I’d always known I might go back to Chicago. I still had my bank account and needed to repay Axel the money he’d lent me after all. I knew I could just transfer the money to a different account and mail Axel what I owed, but I thought I might do it in person one day. It had all depended on how safe I would feel after time had passed since the kidnapping.
I never expected to be going back with the intention of confronting Nikolai.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving from city to city so Nikolai couldn’t track me was supposed to help me move on. I succeeded with the moving around part, and I even managed to get back on my feet and lead somewhat of a life in Seattle. Even the nightmares had begun to fade.
Now, I’m going to throw it all away.
I’m such a fool.
But Ava’s right, I need closure.
A soft sigh escapes me as I stare blindly out the window. I may be a fool, but I’m not stupid. When I’d known I was going to go back, I made certain I learned how to protect myself. I’m never going to let anyone get the jump on me like one of Nikolai’s men had.
It's been two months since Ava and I had that fateful conversation while I’d driven her home from the club. Since then, I’ve taken self-defense classes, bought a knife, and even a stun gun.
I don’t want to hurt anyone if I don’t have to.
I’d rather safely flee than actually fight, so the stun gun will always be my first option unless I know the situation is dire. Then, I’ll use the knife if I have to.
Jonah flashes in my mind, and I wince inwardly. I already know I have the wherewithal to do it. I just don’t want to have to stab someone again if it’s not necessary.
A lot has changed since Nikolai held me captive for nearly a month.
There had been no doubt in my mind that if I escaped, the traumatizing ordeal would change me. And it had. I’m much more confident than I was before—who wouldn’t be? I’d suffered and had survived. I can’t imagine ever finding myself in a situation that would be worse than that cage. I’m also very much aware of my surroundings at all times and quick to shut down a situation if I’m feeling uncomfortable.
I’m not the same woman I was a year ago, I’m stronger now. Just not strong enough to overcome the feelings I’d developed for Nikolai, I think sourly.
I tried so damn hard to put him behind me, but it was impossible when I kept waking up covered in sweat and longing for his touch. Those erotic dreams used to anger me, because I resented the way that Nikolai made me feel. But then my thoughts would inevitably shift to the scars on his back, and I’d find myself wondering about his past and the man hidden behind that impenetrable armor he wears so fiercely.
After much internal struggling, I was finally honest with myself. Maybe I’m just as screwed up over my own childhood as he appears to be from his. Perhaps that’s why I felt more alive when I was with Nikolai than I’ve felt this entire past year.
Maybe I’m needy for attention, and that’s why I crave his presence so much. He’d always been so intent and focused when we were in the same room, and I miss being seen.
Perhaps after years of neglect, and being set aside by guys who’ve lost interest, it has twisted me into someone who wants affection and attention—the kind that can consume a soul.
Though affection is definitely not what Nikolai had given me, but I’d had his entire focus. The intense way he’d used to watch me with that predatory alertness, I yearn for it.
Is it healthy?
Considering he was once my captor; I’d say definitely not.
But then I’d recall how he’d made certain I was nursed back to health when I’d developed pneumonia. He’d had plenty of opportunities to physically hurt or kill me, but he hadn’t. The few times he’d helped me up the stairs from the basement to shower, I’d never sensed him restraining any violent urges. Even when he'd choked me during that nightmare, he’d released me as soon as he’d realized what was happening and the horror of what he had done was reflected in his face. He, himself had even admitted he doesn’t enjoy killing even though it’s something that runs parallel to his profession.
Nikolai is a paradox that I am longing to solve.
So here I am, heading back into the proverbial lion’s den, because my need for closure has become too great. I’m perfectly aware that I could be completely wrong about Nikolai and may find myself hunted by death.
This could backfire terribly, but I’m doing my best to formulate strategies for all types of situations that I might find myself in. I’ve had two months to plan my return, and should his initial reaction be to drag me back to the basement, I’ve thought up tactics to avoid such a scenario.
If Nikolai wants to hurt me, I won’t be making it easy for him. Granted, the precautions may not hold up against the likes of Nikolai; however, I sensed something in him during our time…together. Something that told me he didn’t want to hurt me.
I’m taking a chance trusting my gut, and usually it doesn’t lead me astray. After the childhood I’d had, I can usually tell the bad from the good. And Nikolai, he’s a mix of both, but I’m choosing to believe that somewhere inside him, he’s capable of making the right choices.
My curiosity may just get me killed, but at least I’ll know the truth. I suppose I can live with that, or die with it. I’m really hoping it won’t come to that, though.
What really exasperates me is that I’m willing to die to get my answers.
I always thought I knew who I was and was comfortable in my own skin, but then Nikolai captured me. During my ordeal in the basement, I’d learned I’m stronger than I once thought, and I’m willing to hurt someone to have my freedom. Which I’m not sure is a good quality to have, but I guess it comes down to self-preservation.
Yet, since my escape, I’ve felt like a lost, wandering soul with no real de
stination in sight. I’ve come to realize that I need to find out who I truly am, and as messed up as it is, I think Nikolai holds the key.
A soft, sarcastic snort escapes me.
There is no way to truly explain my motives, because I am still struggling to make sense of them myself. Sometimes, I think I’m a lost cause—destined to always be alone.
Ava stirs in the seat beside mine, and I realize that I’d accidentally woken her. She lifts her head, and through sleepy blue eyes, she looks at me questioningly.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
Her eyes glaze over as she rests her head in the other direction and immediately falls back to sleep.
I gaze at the woman that has become the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real friend. She’d slept for most of the bus ride, curled up in the seat looking uncomfortable. In spite of the body aches she must be enduring, she still smiles with unbidden anticipation when she does happen to be awake.
That’s Ava. Always so upbeat and positive.
It’s dangerous bringing her with me to Chicago, but as soon as I’d mentioned leaving Seattle, she’d decided it was time to leave Rob, her boyfriend, once and for all.
We’ve grown close the past few months, and Ava had eventually let it slip that Rob’s abusive. It’s one of the reasons she’s always worn baggy clothes and covered her body outside of work. She’d confessed that she spends hours using makeup to hide the bruises so no one at the club would notice, and then outside the club, she says there’s no point. Rob will let her show off her body for her job, but outside of the club, it didn’t matter if the bruises were covered in makeup or not since Rob preferred her to hide her curves.
When I’d tried to talk Ava out of coming with me to Chicago, she’d told me that she believed Rob would kill her if she ever tried to leave him. His violent temper, and her belief that he would actually end her life, was the only thing that had kept her in the relationship instead of bolting.
With my leaving Seattle, and her knowing that I like to fade into crowds and be low-key, it had given her the confidence to leave as well, to at long last escape Rob.
How could I say no?
She still doesn’t know the truth about what had happened between Nikolai and me, and I plan to keep it that way. The only thing she knows is I’m returning to Chicago to take care of unfinished business.
A small smile curves my lips as I think of our friendship. She’s such a bold woman with a huge heart. Not once had she given up on trying to be my friend, and after driving her home from the club a few times, she’d determinedly made a place for herself in my life, giving me no other option than to accept her.
My smile fades.
As bubbly as Ava is, I’d noted that she never seemed to mention any close friends, and I had always wondered why. I’d began to notice that most of our conversations took place when Rob wasn’t around, and when he was there, he seemed to watch us like a hawk and appeared displeased. I eventually found out the truth when we began to drop by a twenty-four-hour diner for a late meal on the nights she needed a ride home.
It was there that she confessed that Rob liked to hurt her, and much to my surprise, I soon found myself sharing parts of myself, too. But mostly only my past and how I one day crave stability in my life.
She, of course, knows there’s plenty I’m keeping from her, but Ava isn’t the type to pry. She might gently nudge, and if nothing comes of it, she lets it go. She’s been very accepting of me as I am and hasn’t pushed to know anything that I won’t willingly share on my own.
So here we are, on a bus headed to Chicago.
The plan is to secure an apartment, something affordable with some security measures—a must with my situation. Ava enjoys stripping and knows she’s good at it, so she intends to pursue that. I, on the other hand, will probably need two jobs to cover my half of the finances. I know I could easily use the money I’d saved, but I’ve been screwed over too many times in the past to risk it. It’s not that I don’t trust Ava, but money can change a person, and I’m just not taking any chances.
I’m also going to need to track down Axel. I’d like to pay him off before Nikolai finds out that I’m back. If there’s going to be a target on anyone’s back, I want it to be solely on mine. Which is why having Ava with me is going to be tricky, but I’ll figure out a way to keep her protected.
My thoughts shift back to Nikolai.
I want a new life here in Chicago before my reconnecting with Nikolai may turn it all upside down. The plan is to set down roots so that if Nikolai should try anything, people will notice my disappearance. It’s a risk, considering I’m trying to keep the target on myself and no one else, but I need to have faith that Nikolai wouldn’t pointlessly kill someone simply because they know me.
Unfortunately, there might be a problem that could destroy everything I’m planning; what if Jonah died?
Last year, when I’d pickpocketed Nikolai, he was coming out of a high-rise building. Before leaving Seattle, I researched everything I could on Nikolai and had correctly assumed that he was somehow connected to that building.
Turns out, he’s a very successful corporate raider and owns his own business. I’d managed to glean some information from his business profile, but it wasn’t anything too useful. He’s thirty-four, and his last name is Martinez. Any other information was strictly related to his business with no mention of anything social.
While I’d tried digging into Nikolai’s background, I’d also searched for Jonah but had come up with absolutely nothing.
If he’d died…
I’m blindly walking into a situation that could set in motion my death.
TWO
Nikolai
Snow is falling outside, and I watch the endless snowflakes drifting down from the sky above with disinterest. The window in my bedroom has always been my favorite source of relaxation, and during the past year, I’ve found myself staring out it nightly. So much so that I’d bought a leather armchair to place in front of it.
Tonight, I’m still in my business attire from a late evening meeting, and a glass of brandy is in my hand. As with every night that passes, there is no longer the all-encompassing feeling of solace that used to ease my mind before Blakely came along.
I resent the fuck out of her for ruining the only place that I felt truly content.
Hell, I resent her for a lot of damned things.
This past year has been a real bitch since she’d escaped. I don’t do vulnerable very well, and with Blakely somewhere out there, I’ll always feel exposed to the wrath she could bring down upon me if she were to share with the public what I put her through.
My fingers tighten around the glass as I gaze out at the beauty of the winter night, its serenity barely touching my soul.
In the beginning, I’d contemplated moving, but that meant turning my entire world upside down, and both businesses. I’d decided to wait out Blakely, because it pissed me off that a little slip of a woman was somehow controlling my life, and I don’t let anyone control me. It’s a risk staying here, but I figure if she does try anything, I have a good chance of taking her out before she does any real damage.
Still, damage is damage, and if she should try anything, it’ll put me on the watch list with the local authorities.
Pain radiates throughout my back molars from where I’m grinding them together.
I can’t let that happen.
What burns the most is knowing that if she did go to the authorities, I’m not sure I’d be able to sentence her to death. She fucking got under my skin, and the worst part is that she’d earned my respect. I’d still rather confine her to the basement than kill her.
I draw in a deep breath and slowly exhale as I try to calm the fury churning inside me.
Somedays, I wish I’d let the pneumonia take her. Then my life would be completely normal, and I’d still enjoy sex.
I take another drink of the brandy while my free hand curls into a fist where it’s resting upon the arm of th
e chair. She managed to mindfuck me that one single time I was with her, and now it’s difficult as hell to dredge up attraction for the elite prostitutes I used to screw so easily.
I’m deeply perturbed that I can’t get over Blakely Reeves, and I don’t know what it’s going to take for me to move on. It doesn’t help that I am still incredibly intrigued by her and how she came to be who she is.
Not to mention she was never frightened of me, and now I’ll never know why. You’d think she would have been terrified considering I’m a professional assassin, but she’d challenged me whenever she could.
I’d also like to know how she’d managed to handle her captivity so well, because she held it together much better than anyone I’d ever met would.
Was everything a show for me so that I’d let down my guard?
The sounds she’d made when I was deep inside her, was that a performance as well?
I’ll never get my answers, and it bothers me way more than it should.
THREE
Blakely
After unlocking the apartment door, I slip inside and close it behind me, making certain that both locks are put back into place. It’s late, and I’m just arriving home after putting in late hours at a dance club.
I glance at the cute, wall mounted shelf with key hooks attached at the bottom. Ava and I had installed it next to the door the other day. I note that her keys are gone.
She hasn’t made it home yet from her own job.
Both of us had managed to secure employment in our preferred fields. She’s dancing at an upper-class gentlemen’s club, and I’d landed a job bartending at a dance club. My second job is less thrilling. I’d needed another job since the apartment isn’t cheap, so I’d snagged a daytime mail sorting position at one of the local distribution centers.
As I make my way through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom, I think upon the past few weeks. It was certainly interesting arriving back in Chicago, and Ava had quickly become overwhelmed by being in a new city. Thankfully, once we’d secured the apartment, and she’d landed her job, she’d begun to relax.