'TIL DEATH DO US PART (Silent Demons Book 2)

by C. Luca

  Fear clenches like a tight fist around my chest before my natural instinct to survive takes over. Recalling the self-defense classes I’d taken, I bring my right palm up, slamming it upwards into his nose as hard as I can.

  My attacker’s head snaps back from the force of my blow as he grunts with surprise, the knife wavering in his hand.

  Using his momentary distraction to my advantage, I shove him off me as hard as I can. He tumbles slightly off the mattress, and it’s just enough of an opening for me to scramble out from under him.

  As I try to launch myself to my feet, my ankle is caught from behind in a steel grip, causing me to fall across the carpet. My hands catch my weight, and as my pulse pounds in my throat, I know I am going to die if I don’t escape him.

  There’s still plenty of fight left in me, and I reflexively kick out behind me with my free foot. My toes connect with something hard and pain streaks down them while my attacker grunts but continues to drag me backwards.

  With no other alternative, I roll over onto my back just in time to see the knife coming down once more. Shit! “Ava!” I scream, finally finding my voice as I try dodging the knife by hurling my body in the opposite direction.

  Pain burns along my ribs as the blade slices across my side. I’d managed to throw off his aim, but it won’t last for long.

  Panic is quickly beginning to engulf me as I find my options diminishing. He’s too big, and his grip on my ankle won’t loosen.

  My purse!

  With wild eyes, I look around desperately for it.

  It’s within reach.

  Knowing this is my only chance, I fling myself onto my stomach, hand outstretched as I reach for the discarded purse on the carpet. Quickly, I slip my hand inside, searching for the stun gun.

  From the corner of my eye, I see the knife coming again. Using my other arm, I block the blade, and the metal slices into my skin. There is no pain though as my right hand grips the stun gun inside the purse, and I turn it on.

  Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as I turn onto my back and lunge forward, shoving the stun gun into my attacker’s side just as he’s bringing his arm up to once more stab me.

  He goes still for millisecond before recoiling as the volts shoot throughout his body. As if in slow motion, he weaves on his knees as he hovers over me.

  Using my foot, I kick him as hard as I can, and he slumps onto the carpet.

  I’m not waiting around to see if he’ll stay down.

  Taking the stun gun with me, I scramble to my feet and race out of the room and down the hall to Ava’s. Why hasn’t she come to help? There’s no way she could have slept through my scream.

  “Ava!” I yell, bursting into her room. Knowing the masked attacker could still try to finish what he’d started; I slam the door closed behind me.

  It won’t be enough to stall him.

  My heart is still racing, and I can’t seem to draw enough oxygen into my lungs as I use my free hand to grab the bat resting against the nearby wall. Ava bought it when we’d first arrived in Chicago in case Rob somehow tracked her down.

  Now I have two weapons, increasing our chances of escaping this alive. With the bat firmly in my grip, I hurry over to her side.

  Why isn’t she moving?

  “Ava! Get up!” I say frantically.

  In the moonlight, I begin to notice the splotches of red.

  No…

  I numbly drop to my knees beside her as my eyes make sense of what I’m seeing.

  She’s on her back, eyes wide open with terror. The blankets are still bunched around her upper body, but the fabric is drenched in dark crimson. Her beautiful features stare up at me, marred by blood spatters.

  My heart stutters inside my chest as pain burns a deep hole inside it, but I don’t have time to truly process the fact that she’s dead.

  I can’t save her, but I can still save myself.

  I drop the stun gun and reach for her phone that’s on the floor a few feet from the mattress. As I call nine-one-one, I hurry to the window. Reluctantly, I release the bat and shove the window open. Cold air hits me as I double check that the fire escape is down below.

  However, the world is beginning to swim before my eyes, and suddenly, I’m realizing that I don’t have much energy left. My hands are shaking, and as I tell the operator the address and what had happened, I glance down at myself.

  I’m covered in blood.

  My tank top is now a dark red, and I can feel wet streaks making their way down my hips and bare legs.

  The pain I’d momentarily noticed when I’d first woken up returns, and I find myself slowly collapsing as my bleary eyes lift to the still closed door.

  What if he recovers and comes back for me?

  I need to stay alert.

  Unfortunately, my vision darkens, and then there’s simply nothing.

  FIFTEEN

  Blakely

  I watch the police detective leave my hospital room after questioning me about what had happened at the apartment. Without the detective providing a distraction, I’m left to process everything that had transpired, and it feels as if all the life has been sucked out of me as I lie there in the hospital bed.

  The medication being intravenously pumped into my veins has made me incredibly drowsy, but not enough to numb me from the horrific events from the night before. Nor do the drugs fully take away the physical pain I’m in, and they sure as hell do absolutely nothing for my heart that feels like it’s been torn out of my chest. Though to be honest, the physical pain is much easier to accept than the emotional.

  I’d needed emergency surgery last night when I’d been brought in by the EMT’s. The internal bleeding needed to be stopped, and the knife had done minor damage to my small intestine. Even though I’d lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion, I’m lucky my injuries weren’t worse.

  My scratchy eyes wander around the room that I’d been wheeled into only two short hours earlier after leaving recovery. The IV drip is supposed to be helping with the pain, but it’s only taking the edge off. My abdomen hurts where they’d had to open me up to fix the damage.

  I can also feel the stitches along my ribs. The bandages covering my wounds are bulky, and my left arm is entirely wrapped in bandages and gauze from wrist to elbow where the knife had slashed into my skin.

  The physical pain I can handle, because it makes sense. I was attacked and injured. What doesn’t make sense and is difficult to process is Ava’s death.

  Because Ava was killed before I was attacked, the police believe Ava was the target, and I was collateral damage for being there. I just spent an hour telling the detective what I knew about Ava’s life back in Seattle. From the fact that Ava never got along with her parents because they’re alcoholics, to her abusive relationship with Rob.

  Then, there was the guy she’d brought home last week. He seemed very interested in Rob and the mystery man.

  Unfortunately, by the time the police and EMT’s had arrived on the scene, the attacker was gone. I was also told that the police had confiscated the surveillance footage in the lobby and the halls, but there was nothing for them to go on since the killer was dressed all in black and wore a mask. I’m ‘lucky’ that he was probably more focused on getting away before the cops arrived than finishing me off.

  I just don’t understand how this could have happened.

  Ava had warned me that Rob was capable of killing her if she left him, but I hadn’t thought he’d actually catch up to us. Why would he do this? Why would someone kill someone else simply because they couldn’t have them?

  There are so many questions in my mind, and I feel so lost. I suppose the why’s don’t really matter anyway.

  Nothing changes the fact that Ava’s dead.

  My eyes fill with tears once more, and I’m surprised I have any left to shed. All I’ve done is cry since the moment I’d awoken from surgery and recalled what had happened. I’m also frustrated that with as drowsy as I’m feeling, I can’t see
m to turn off my thoughts.

  I just want to sleep and escape all this pain.

  A nurse bustles in and gives me a kind smile as she checks the machines I’m hooked up to. “How’s the pain, honey?” she asks in a motherly tone.

  “Never-ending,” I whisper, not just referring to the physical pain.

  She looks at me with empathy shining in her eyes. “I’ll check to see if we can do more for you. In the meantime, there’s a man here. Not much of a talker. He let his companion do the speaking. Do you know a Nikolai Martinez?”

  My heart leaps over the knowledge that he’s here. “Yes, I’d like to see him,” I rasp, now thankful that I’m not sleeping.

  She gives me a stern look. “Thirty minutes is all I can give you both. You need plenty of rest after your surgery.”

  I nod.

  She bustles back out of the room, and I wait for Nikolai to appear. I’m anxious to see someone that I know. I’m feeling so incredibly lost right now, and I need something to center me.

  He enters the room a few minutes later, closing the door to ensure privacy before walking towards me, his gray eyes scanning me, taking in every detail.

  Today, he’s dressed casually in a comfortable black jacket, jeans, and black ankle boots. Hazily, I admire how good he looks. He could have easily been a model instead of a professional assassin.

  When I realize the direction my thoughts had taken, it occurs to me that my medication is working better than I had originally thought.

  Nikolai pulls over a chair and situates it beside the bed. After sitting down, he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket. He texts something, and then holds out the phone so I can read the screen.

  I peer at it, squinting since my focus isn’t all that great with everything being pumped into my body. Jonah saw on the news that there was some sort of attack at your building. This was the soonest I could get in to see you.

  Once more, my eyes fill with tears as I think of the events that had taken place. “Ava’s dead,” I say thickly as my eyes lift to his.

  He uses his free hand to reach for mine, and I slip my fingers through his, comforted by his touch. His eyes are searching mine, and it’s easy to guess what he wants to know.

  “It all happened so fast,” I say slowly, finding that I have to really concentrate on what I want to say. “When I woke up, he was on top of me, stabbing me…” I whisper with a shudder, then I immediately wince from the pain the movement causes.

  Nikolai’s warm fingers tighten around mine.

  “I fought him off…and ran to get Ava, but she was…she was already dead,” I say, choking up over the memory.

  Nikolai carefully extracts his fingers from mine and types on the phone’s screen before showing me. What did he look like? His eyes burn intently as he waits for my reply.

  I give him a frustrated look.

  It was the same question the detective kept asking me, and I couldn’t give him anything useful. “He was wearing a black mask, black clothes,” I swallow around the thick lump in my throat. “He even had gloves on,” I add.

  Nikolai’s brows furrow.

  My body is begging for sleep now, and I’m annoyed that I’m finding it harder and harder to focus. Still, I try to venture on, knowing he’s wanting as much information as I can possibly give him.

  “Ava left Seattle because her boyfriend was abusive,” I explain, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice. “She was scared for her life, so that’s why she came here…with me.”

  His eyes sharpen.

  “The police think it’s likely that it was him.”

  Nikolai types on the screen and shows it to me. Why go after you?

  “Revenge?” I shrug, something that I have always had a tendency to do, and I wince from the pain. That’s going to be a hard habit to break for the next few weeks.

  Nikolai’s fingers fly across the screen. He then shows me what he’d typed. Jonah was able to get one of the nurses to tell him about your injuries. How’s the pain?

  I give him a wry look. “It’s about as you can imagine,” I mutter.

  He nods and watches me, waiting to hear what’s on my mind.

  I like that he cares, and I give him a wobbly smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  His expression says that he is too.

  I’m really tired, but I fight back a yawn and focus on Nikolai. “I’m all Ava had,” I say softly. “She was never close to her parents—they never really got along.” I pause, swallowing around the lump in my throat once more before continuing. “I need to start thinking about what will happen once the coroner releases her…because I asked, and it sounds like her parents declined to come claim her,” I say as my voice breaks.

  How could a parent do that?

  How could someone so sweet and kind have been raised by people that cared more about their alcohol than they did their own child?

  Nikolai sets down his phone and immediately shifts in the chair, moving closer as he reaches out and catches the tear falling from the corner of my eye. His gray eyes are firm as he gazes at me, letting me know that I don’t have to go through this all alone. His eyes hold mine a moment longer, and then he relaxes back in the chair and picks up his phone.

  I patiently wait to see what he has to say.

  He shows me the screen. I can pay for everything. Whatever you want for Ava, and it’s yours.

  His offer warms my heart. “I just have a lot to think about,” I tell him.

  I’m not ready to make decisions, but I do know I’d like to pay for Ava’s funeral myself. I’ll use the money I have saved in the bank. It just feels right. It doesn’t matter that it’ll take me longer to save for a home, what matters is Ava. However, I’m not ready to have that kind of conversation yet. It’s just too much, too soon.

  Nikolai shows me his next question. When will you be released?

  “They want to keep me for today and tomorrow,” I say tiredly, no longer able to hide my exhaustion from the surgery. “If there aren’t any complications…I think I might be released the following day.”

  He nods, and as he’s typing on his phone, the nurse bustles back in and gives Nikolai a stern look. “Time to leave, young man,” she announces.

  His eyes narrow on her, and the glint in them would probably make anyone else take a step back, but not the nurse.

  She just lifts her eyebrows and gazes at him steadily. “Do you think you’re the first visitor that’s been unhappy about being kicked out?”

  For the first time since I woke from the surgery, I feel a small smile tug on my lips. As the nurse and Nikolai stare each other down, I say his name to gain his attention.

  Reluctantly, his eyes shift back to me.

  “Will you visit me again?” I ask as I quickly sober.

  I don’t want him to leave, but I’m also not sure how much he wants to be here. Things are so uncertain between us. Although, taking into account the way he’d been acting during this visit, and the fact that he’d rushed over here as soon as he could, I think it’s safe to say he wants to keep seeing me.

  He gives me an assuring nod that he’ll be back. Then, he rises to his feet and gives the nurse a dark look before he exits the room and disappears from sight.

  The nurse moves closer to my bed, her eyes amused. “Well, he’s a moody fellow.”

  I give her a tired smile.

  She has no idea.

  SIXTEEN

  Nikolai

  As I exit the hospital, Jonah walks ahead of me to open the side door of the SUV idling at the curbside.

  I duck my head and climb inside, relaxing into the seat as my mind remains on Blakely. It had been unsettling to see her lying in the hospital bed, pale and clearly in pain.

  In the span of finding out that she’d been attacked, and my seeing her in that hospital room, everything had shifted into perspective.

  Fuck all my concerns about allowing her any sort of control.

  Screw not wanting to show any vulnerability in front of
her.

  Everything has changed.

  The minute Jonah had told me what he’d seen on the news, I’d tried contacting Blakely. The news wasn’t releasing the identity of the victim or the deceased, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to verify that she was okay.

  Tracking her phone had told me it was in the apartment, but she wasn’t picking up. I’d sent Jonah over to simply check up on her, and he’s the one who’d contacted me to let me know that Blakely had been the victim rushed to the hospital.

  Finding out she was recovering from surgery had sent my mind spinning with plenty of thoughts.

  Would this have happened if I hadn’t been avoiding her?

  How would things have played out had I spent the night?

  Would I have been able to save Blakely from harm and perhaps her roommate?

  The most disturbing thought that’s kept rolling around in my head was I should have been there.

  Distancing myself from Blakely had been the wrong thing to do, all because my pride got in the way. I’d kept thinking about all the ways she could ruin me, and that’s got to stop. If she had ulterior motives, I would have figured them out by now.

  My jaw clenches as Ezra navigates the SUV alongside the busy Chicago traffic. Ever since Blakely had shown up in my life again, I’d been trying to control how I felt about her. This thing between us, the sex—it’s so fucking raw, and the connection we have…

  It’s felt like it’s happening much too fast, and I’ve been alarmed over it. But in reality, this started far longer than just several weeks ago.

  This began the minute I became fascinated enough with her to leave an unguarded crack in my hardened exterior. Learning about her childhood made that crack even bigger.

  This began long ago, not just weeks.

  I need to stop avoiding the issues that make me uncomfortable, and I need to start focusing on Blakely and why I’m finding life boring without her in it.

  The past year was just day after day of frustration and boredom. Everything was too planned, too predictable. Since Blakely’s arrival, I wake up and wonder what the day will bring. It’s been a long-damned time since I haven’t been able to predict my days.