Lethal Protector

by Kaylea Cross

  She sat frozen on the arm of the couch, staring at him with apprehension. “Are you going away again?”

  “Not yet. Not until I get you out of here.” He crossed to her and drew her into a hug, his heart squeezing. She was all he had in this world. The only person who loved and cared about him.

  He was sick of the life they’d been forced to live here. Sick of the constant danger he’d created for himself. It wasn’t who he wanted to be. He had dreams, same as everyone else. It was time he left this whole mess behind him and went after them, to help secure some kind of stable future for his sister.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she whispered, her hair smelling of bitter coffee from the café where she worked one of her jobs.

  “I’ll be okay. But go pack now so you’re ready to leave. I’ll be back in a little while.” He kissed the top of her head and left, his heart heavy but filled with resolve.

  Outside, the cold night air sucked the breath from his lungs. The city was dark, the lack of light adding to the chill as he pulled up the hood of his jacket and caught the bus to his next destination.

  The public pool was about to close when he got there. With only minutes to spare he entered, the weight of the pistol hidden in the back of his waistband comforting as he made his way to the lockers. He took out the backpack, paused just long enough to pull open the main compartment and check that the cash was still in it.

  Zipping it back up, he shrugged the backpack on and left, taking a different route back on foot. He kept his head down and his hands in his pockets, staying aware of his surroundings even as his pulse thudded in the side of his throat. By now they would know what he’d done. The gang had eyes everywhere, and people would be looking for him. He had to get Melissa clear, and then leave town forever.

  As he passed a long brick building, a cold voice spoke behind him.

  “That belongs to me.”

  His heart shot into his throat as he froze, fear curling inside him.

  “Turn around, you traitorous motherfucker.”

  It was too late to try to run. Alex was the head of the most powerful and feared gang in the region. He would have backup either with him or nearby.

  Slowly, Jason turned around to face the man he’d betrayed, bracing for the impact of bullets at any moment. But to his surprise, Alex seemed to be alone.

  “You stole my money,” the other man growled out, his face cast in shadow.

  “It’s my money. You went back on your word,” he snarled back.

  Alex took a menacing step toward him, coming into the pool of light cast by a nearby streetlamp. “Your money is my money. Every fucking penny of it. If it weren’t for me, you’d have nothing,” he spat.

  Jason tensed and readied himself to reach for his weapon, wrenching his gaze from Alex’s face to his hands just in time to see the other man begin to reach downward.

  No!

  His own hand flashed back to draw his weapon and aim it at his target. They both fired at the same time.

  Jason ducked to the side just as a hot, searing pain burned across the outside of his left shoulder. He squeezed the trigger twice more, the shots exploding in the quiet. His aim was dead on.

  Alex jerked and fell to his knees, staring at his chest in shock. Jason stared too, stunned as Alex’s pistol fell to the ground with a clatter.

  Those cold, dark eyes lifted and pinned Jason where he stood. “You’re a dead man,” he sneered, a hideous smile revealing teeth covered in blood. It dripped from his mouth, spread down the front of his shirt. “They’ll hunt you down. You and your sister.” He slumped over, falling on his side while a pool of blood stained the snowy ground around him.

  Shaken, Jason whirled and raced off into the darkness. Holy fuck, he’d just killed Alex Kochenko, the man even the cops were afraid to go after. Word would spread fast. Jason was on borrowed time. Everyone would be coming after him now, to avenge their leader.

  He gasped for breath as he ran, heart pounding, legs burning as he raced back to the apartment building. Blood seeped down the sleeve of his shirt, warm and sticky, the wound burning. He had to get home before the others came for him. Had to get Melissa out of there.

  Damn, he wished he’d had the chance to send her away before he took the last of the money he’d been squirreling away from various drug deals a bit at a time, but there’d been no time. An irresistible opportunity had presented itself with no warning, one he couldn’t pass up, so he’d taken it. Sneaking money from another deal when everyone else had been distracted.

  And after killing Kochenko, he’d just made his own sister a target too.

  He struggled his way up the steps, his mind screaming at him to hurry, hurry. His hands shook, his fingers stiff and frozen as he turned the key in the lock. He shoved the door open and stumbled inside, shutting and locking it behind him. Holy shit, he’d never imagined this happening. “Mel!”

  She shot out of the bedroom, a gasp tearing from her when she saw him. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding!”

  He didn’t care about the gash in his shoulder, only protecting her. He held up a hand when she started toward him. “No. Get your stuff. We’re leaving now.”

  She hesitated. “But—”

  “Now, Mel. Hurry.”

  She turned and fled back into her room. Jason swept through the apartment one last time, cramming everything he needed into the backpack. There was no time for another trip back. He could never return here. Might not make it out of the city alive as it was.

  When he had everything he could carry, he shoved it all into the backpack and forced the bulging zippers closed. The weight would slow him down and drain his strength more than he could afford, but he would just have to deal with it.

  “Mel, let’s go!” he shouted, his heart knocking against his ribs. They were coming. His skin was crawling.

  She hurried out of the bedroom a moment later, face pale, visibly shaken as she dragged her beat-up rolling suitcase he’d bought her at a second-hand store last year, wearing her own backpack and carrying another small duffel in her free hand. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He opened her backpack and began shoving stacks of money into it. Enough to keep her fed and housed for a few months if necessary. “These are in twenties. Keep it all hidden. Don’t show it to anyone, reserve as much of it as you can, and when you get somewhere safe, hide the rest. Keep your phone on you at all times. When it’s safe, I’ll contact you.”

  She whipped her head around to stare at him, horrified. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “You have to.” He couldn’t go with her when the most dangerous gangsters in the state would be gunning for him. He would never endanger her that way.

  She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I can’t do this by myself!”

  Fuck this. There was no time. He took her face in his hands, instantly silencing her. “Yes, you can. Because there’s no other way.” He’d been preparing her for this moment for the last year. Talking about the plan, various things she needed to do to keep herself safe until he could join her. “Now let’s go.”

  As soon as he released her, Melissa rushed over to the fireplace to grab their tattered Christmas stockings. She sniffed and wiped her eyes as she turned back to him, shoving the damn stockings into her coat pockets. The sight of her tears and knowing she was afraid, shredded him.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised. “Everything will be different for us in California. Just remember the plan. I’ll meet you wherever you are.” He shut off the lights, took one last look at the Christmas tree in the corner, then grabbed his sister’s arm and escorted her out of their home.

  He was on the run from the law now too, but the biggest threat he faced was from the men that until recently, he’d called his brothers.

  It didn’t matter who came after him. He was ready. No one was going to stand in his way. He’d killed before and he’d do it again, whatever it took to get away and start a new life with Melissa far away fr
om here.

  Chapter Five

  Four years earlier

  Tala woke groggy and disoriented to find herself in a strange room filled with medical equipment. She blinked, struggling to focus on her surroundings as a soft, rhythmic beeping filled the room. Everything was blurry. She felt so weak she could barely keep her eyes open.

  “Corporal Baldwin, hi.” A man wearing pale blue scrubs appeared in her line of vision, standing beside her bed. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m…” Her heart lurched as she remembered the explosion. Of Braxton trying to prevent her from seeing her leg. And her boot holding what remained of her right foot.

  Her gaze shot to the blankets covering her legs. Oh, shit, was the bulge beneath the right side shorter than the left? “My leg,” she managed, her stomach twisting.

  A gentle hand grasped hers. She clenched her fingers around it, fear and dread ripping through her. “The doctors preserved as much of it as they could. You just came out of surgery.”

  Oh God, oh God…

  She started to shake. Tremors at first, rapidly changing to more violent jerking until her teeth were chattering. She was aware of the man talking to her in a low, calm voice, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  More people came into the room. Medical staff. Tears flooded her eyes. She squeezed them shut and clamped her jaw tight, hating that everyone was witnessing her breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.

  She ordered herself to breathe. To calm down. She was alive. That was the main thing. She’d lost a foot, and while that sucked, it could have been a lot worse.

  A warm, tingling sensation began crawling through her body.

  “I know this is a shock,” another male voice said close to her as she began to float.

  The shaking faded, that sense of warmth blissful, taking away the fear and panic. The voice told her about the rest of her injuries. Shrapnel wounds across the front of her body, concentrated on her legs. Some burns, and a concussion.

  “But you’re stable now,” the voice continued. “You’re going to be fine. In another day or two you’ll be on your way home to Canada.”

  Home. She forced her heavy eyelids open, desperation gripping her. “My daughter,” she croaked out. “My family.”

  “Your parents and brother have been contacted, and know you’re okay.”

  I’m not okay, I just had my foot blown off.

  Another face appeared above her. A woman with kind brown eyes. “We’ve given you something to help you sleep. Just rest now.”

  It was a relief to let her eyes close, let herself drift on the warm current and allow it to pull her under where there was no more fear. No pain. No horror.

  All too soon she was awake again. Someone was there changing the dressing on her leg. She swallowed, her heart tripping, hands clammy. She didn’t want to look. Couldn’t bear to see it and confirm this was all real.

  She made herself look anyway.

  At the blunt stump covered by a thick padding of bandages at the end of her right calf. Her stomach pitched. She wrenched her gaze away, her chest constricting as her mind struggled to accept the irrefutable evidence she’d just been confronted with.

  She was an amputee. Another statistic from the war.

  After a while, the visitors started coming in. First, her direct boss and commanding officer. Other members of her unit from the 3rd Division, including her two closest friends here. They didn’t stay long, and did everything they could to comfort and reassure her, try to lift her spirits, but she could already feel herself sinking into a black pit of despair.

  She didn’t want to see anyone. Didn’t feel like talking, even to her own family on the phone. All she wanted was to be left alone, and to sleep so she could escape this horrific new reality she couldn’t face yet.

  She dozed again, and woke when another nurse came in to check her dressings.

  “Someone else has been waiting to see you,” a nurse said as she changed Tala’s dressings. “Sergeant Hillard is leaving soon with his unit. He’s just outside.”

  Hillard? Tala glanced over the woman’s shoulder and her heart squeezed as he appeared around the edge of the curtain. “Braxton,” she said, her voice cracking. She was so glad to see him.

  He edged into the room with a half-smile on his handsome face. “Hey, Tal.”

  The nurse tucked the blankets around Tala’s hips and straightened. “I’ll just give you two some privacy.”

  Tala pushed up onto her elbows as he walked to her bed. An immediate lump formed in her throat. She felt it quiver there, the hard knot in the center of her chest starting to melt, bringing a hot rush of tears to her eyes.

  It was the most natural thing in the world to reach for him. He set something aside and bent over to gather her to his chest. The instant those strong, familiar arms closed around her, she buried her face in his shoulder and let go of her grip on control.

  Deep, painful sobs racked her, muffled by his shoulder. Braxton didn’t try to make her stop crying or say ridiculous, unhelpful things like it’s okay, or you’re going to be fine. He simply held her, both arms locked around her, one big hand cradling the back of her head. Letting her vent her grief.

  When the worst had passed and she was able to get her breath back, she wiped at her face and flopped back against her pillow. “Sorry.” She was exhausted. Utterly drained.

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” His dark brown eyes scanned her face as he pulled a chair over to the bed and sat on it. He reached for her hand, curling his large, warm fingers around hers. “I talked to Tate right after you were admitted. I thought it best your parents and Rylee heard it from him, instead of your CO. I hope that was okay.”

  She nodded, blowing out a shaky breath. She no doubt looked like hell right now, but she was so glad to have him here. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He was silent a moment, watching her, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

  She shook her head. “No, and you’ve done more than enough for me already. The surgeon told me that if you hadn’t got the tourniquet in place so fast, I would have been in big trouble. What did you use, anyway?”

  “My belt.”

  She vaguely remembered him reaching down to waist level before he tended to her leg. “I don’t even know what hit me. What was it, do you know?”

  “You stepped on an anti-personnel mine.”

  She absorbed that in silence, rage beginning to burn in the pit of her stomach. Some cowardly asshole must have planted it in the ambush area after the EOD teams had left near dawn. Now she was lying here without a foot, and facing a long, arduous road to recovery.

  She blew out a breath and focused on him. “So, I hear you’re headed out again?”

  “Within the next few hours. I have to get to a briefing soon, but I wanted to come by and see you first, in case they transferred you before I’m back.”

  “I’m glad you did.” He was the only visitor she’d been glad to see. A piece of home. Someone who truly cared about her on a personal level.

  “I’m sorry this happened,” he said quietly.

  She met his gaze. “Thank you.” He was the first person to say that to her. “I’ll be okay, though.” Not today, or anytime soon. But someday.

  “I know.” He said it with quiet conviction, as if he didn’t have the slightest doubt. “You’ll get there.”

  She was lucky to have a loving, supportive family waiting for her back home. The road ahead of her seemed long, lonely and endless right now, but at least she had her family to help her. And when she thought of Braxton heading outside the wire again, facing untold dangers, her chest tightened.

  “You be safe out there, yeah?” She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.

  “I try to be,” he said with the faintest hint of a smile. “I’ll get in touch when I can, check in with you and see how you’re doing.”

  She forced a smile, wishing he didn’
t have to go. “I’d like that.”

  He nodded, withdrew his hand and stood. “Oh. I, uh…got you something.” He reached behind him and picked up something. “Maybe it’s stupid, I don’t know, but I saw it and…” He shrugged and held out a teddy bear.

  She had no idea where the hell he’d gotten it, but it was the same dark brown as his eyes, with big amber eyes and a shiny black nose. A real smile spread across her face as she took it from him. “It’s adorable. Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” He shifted his stance, looking a little embarrassed, then he met her eyes again. “Take care of yourself, Tal. Stay strong. One day at a time.”

  It was good advice. She wanted another hug before he left, but she’d already clung and wet his shirt with her tears. “I will. Bye.”

  “Bye.” He gave her one last smile that made her insides ache, then he was gone.

  An awful emptiness took hold after Braxton left. She didn’t know if she’d ever see him again, and that hurt more than the unbearable pressure in her chest.

  She hugged the bear to her and closed her eyes. The nurse found her like that the next time she came in to change Tala’s dressings a few hours later.

  Tala fiddled with the bear while the nurse worked, using it to distract her through the pain of having her mangled limb manipulated, lost in thought. She needed to call her parents and Rylee, then Tate. She’d had enough time to absorb the initial shock, and Braxton’s visit and more sleep had helped make her feel stronger.

  She studied the bear’s arms and legs, its perfect four little paws. And sudden inspiration struck.

  It was gallows humor, sure, but it seemed fitting and Braxton would approve.

  She touched the nurse’s arm to get her attention. “Any chance you could bring me a sharp pair of scissors and a sewing kit?”

  Chapter Six

  “You didn’t bring Stumpy with us?” Braxton asked her as he drove them in Tate’s truck to the closest shooting range several miles out into the country.