Die for Me

by Nichole Severn

  “What does a pretty little girl like you need with these?”

  “Can’t be too careful,” she spat. Torrhent memorized every feature of their faces for future reference. If she happened to survive, she’d make damn sure they didn’t. “Do you know where she is?”

  Rigger’s face was inches away from hers again. “I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about.” He turned her around again, pushing her toward the long tiled wall. “I get paid when I bring back proof you’re dead,” he said, “and good thing for us your little friend from the pawnshop was more than happy to offer some assistance before I killed him. Now, up against the wall. We have a schedule to keep.”

  He shoved her forward.

  “Aaron’s dead?” Torrhent pressed herself against the wall. A sound interrupted the silence and she turned to see the Japanese-American engaging the bolt on the door. She was locked in with men sent to kill her, but more important, Taigen had been locked out. She swallowed loudly, working to get the lump out of her throat. “If Isaac didn’t send you, then who did?”

  She worked to talk against the cold tile of the wall, her cheeks growing numb from the temperature. If she could keep them talking, she might have a chance.

  She braced herself as Rigger pushed his body up against hers from behind. “Does it matter?” His lips brushed her ear. “You won’t live long enough to tell anyone.”

  A loud thud made Torrhent jump, but Rigger stayed in place.

  Someone was trying to get in.

  “Check it out,” he told the other man, his attention turned toward the bathroom door.

  Torrhent took the opportunity and slammed her head back into Rigger’s face just as Taigen had taught her.

  He stepped back, holding his broken nose as he moaned in agony.

  She grabbed his shoulder-length hair by its roots and pulled his head into her knee. The movements came automatically, a product of prison life, but had been strengthened by Taigen’s training. Her attacker dropped to the floor and Torrhent bolted for the second man.

  He turned at the sound of her approach but didn’t have the chance to react. Lacing her fingers together, she swung her fists as hard as she could and exhaled in a rush when he slumped to the floor, unmoving. Adrenaline carried her toward the bathroom door at full force and she reached for the bolt.

  Searing pain erupted on the back of her skull and behind her eyes. Someone pulled her back by her hair, merely two feet from the exit. She reached back to stop the pain. Her fingers found her attacker’s eyes and Torrhent used the strength she had left to claw at what she could touch.

  Rigger screamed in agony, twisting her around to face him. “You stupid bitch!”

  She had only a glimpse of his hand before it hit her square in the temple. She fell to the floor, too dizzy to remain upright, and felt liquid run down her face. Don’t think about it. Her blood phobia started to take hold.

  Rigger’s face moved into her vision from above. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  The pounding on the door continued, but the lock held.

  Rigger left her sight, but he hadn’t finished with her. He pulled her across the tile toward the middle of the bathroom by the ankle.

  Torrhent kicked as hard as she could, not wanting to find out what would happen when he had her in position. She flipped herself over onto her stomach, clawing at the tile for leverage, but to no avail. She didn’t have a grip.

  The Japanese-American had woken up and stepped down on her hands with thick work boots, the pain intensifying with each movement of her hand.

  “Now”—Rigger stopped—“we’re going to have some fun.”

  A great weight pressed against her back as her neck was pulled tight by the roots of her hair. Torrhent refused to scream. She’d promised herself not to.

  The pounding on the door continued.

  The bolt wouldn’t last much longer, but Rigger and his partner hadn’t moved, as if waiting for Taigen to find them just like this.

  A cold object flattened against her throat and she knew the blade would find home if she moved. She tried to keep her breathing even but had a hard time focusing. Either she’d pass out from exhaustion or the blood seeping into her mouth would paralyze her.

  * * *

  Taigen kicked one more time, slamming the bathroom door against the wall. He stepped inside, eager to find Torrhent and get the hell out of there. He didn’t move when a blade made its way to his throat. He’d give them the upper hand to find out exactly what they wanted, but only until then.

  “Welcome to the party,” someone said, shoving Taigen deeper into the bathroom. The door closed behind him, limiting his options for escape but not cutting them off completely.

  With a quick study of the bathroom he found Torrhent was on the tiled floor, blood dripping from her lips and nose, her head pulled back at an impossible angle with a knife pressed against her throat.

  The man holding it knelt on her back, one knee pressed in between her shoulder blades, his other foot firmly planted against the floor. He wore a button-down men’s tank and khaki pants with thickly soled brown boots, the shirt showing off the long tattoo that seemed to cover his entire body. A cougar.

  “You must be Rigger,” Taigen said. “I’ve only heard stories.”

  The man’s face was triangular, like his groomed facial hair, and covered in blood. His nose protruded at an odd angle.

  He smiled to himself, pleased Torrhent had at least tried to defend herself.

  “In the flesh, Mr. Banvard. I’ve heard of you as well.”

  Taigen took one step closer, the knife at his throat pulling him up short.

  “If you take another step, you’ll both die.”

  “If you haven’t killed her already, then you don’t have the balls.”

  The blade pushed farther into Torrhent’s neck, a line of blood forming across her beautiful skin.

  “You weren’t sent by Isaac,” Taigen proclaimed. It hadn’t been hard to figure out once he realized the set of cowboys was a decoy. “Was it Wren?”

  Rigger chuckled. “Nobody knows who is doing what, it seems.”

  He kept his hand wrapped in Torrhent’s hair as he pulled her head farther back. “And I don’t have time for questions.”

  Torrhent remained silent, not even letting a whimper escape.

  Taigen searched her features for some expression that let him know what she was thinking, but all he found was her blank eyes.

  She’d checked out.

  The knife pressed even harder against her throat and she closed her eyes. Blood seeped from the cut, but she didn’t move, and he wasn’t about to watch more of her blood stain the tile.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Taigen warned. He didn’t know what else to do. The lie was the only way to save her life. “Don’t you know whose daughter she is?”

  Rigger looked up to him, his mouth in the shape of a smile as he spoke in broken English. “I think you say anything to save her.”

  He removed the knife from Torrhent’s throat, raised his knee and reached down for her. He flipped her onto her back, placing his full weight on her chest. “I know who she is and so does my boss. Why do you think we’re here?”

  Torrhent didn’t move as Rigger leaned down, his tongue licking a line from the bottom of her throat to her nose.

  Taigen pushed against the knife at his own throat. “Stop.”

  Rigger’s eyes shot toward him. “Not until I have my fun first.”

  He slid his body down Torrhent’s, sitting in between her legs, and Taigen could only imagine too well what he had in mind. The blade made another appearance, slicing through Torrhent’s flannel shirt and tank top.

  Her bra was exposed, but it didn’t have the effect on him it should have as the knife slid across the skin over her belly.

  She shook with a silent sob, one that must have cost her dearly to let slip. A line of blood bubbled to the surface over her stomach and Taigen felt the rage he’d kept to himself
for too long.

  He threw his elbow back into the face of the man wielding the blade at his throat. A loud exhale escaped the man’s lungs before he went down, but Taigen didn’t stop there. His foot slammed into the hit man’s face, knocking him out cold before he turned back to the scene in front of him.

  Another laceration brought a scream from Torrhent’s throat and his heart plunged into his gut.

  Ignoring the defeat of his companion, Rigger narrowed his eyes. “Take another step, Banvard, and I’ll end her suffering right now.” He leaned over Torrhent’s stomach, lowering his mouth to her skin slowly. He licked at the blood, enjoying the sound she made. “I have to warn you,” he said to her. “You’re not going to enjoy this.”

  Taigen had never felt so helpless. Any movement from him and Rigger would fillet the woman beneath him. The knife that had been pressed to his throat lay on the tile less than two feet away. If he was fast enough, he could save her.

  Torrhent’s left hand slowly made its way closer to the distracted hit man’s leg. She angled her head away from him as he moved his tongue up her neck, almost in disgust, but Taigen knew better.

  She was going to make her move.

  Taigen went for the knife on the floor as a distraction, and before he knew it Torrhent swung a blade she’d pulled from Rigger’s own boot as hard as she could.

  * * *

  Blood dripped from Rigger’s neck onto Torrhent’s face and into her mouth. She left the knife in its place as panic set in. The blood touched her, held her down. It ran down her throat and into her stomach and she couldn’t move. Her limbs refused to obey as the body on top of her went slack.

  Footsteps rang in her ears as Taigen moved into her vision. She tried to speak, tried to move any part of her body that would work, but she was paralyzed. Blood was everywhere, soaking into her body. Her mind went blank, empty.

  Only muffled words came out of Taigen’s mouth as he looked down on her.

  The weight on her chest lifted, giving her the ability to breathe easier. She could only focus on the ceiling. Torrhent tried to explain about the blood. She tried to tell him she couldn’t move, but nothing made sense. None of it was getting through to him.

  The sound of crashing waves roared through her head, but it slowed, dimmed.

  Taigen huddled over her, his ear close to her mouth.

  “Off.” She inhaled deeply, relieved at the sound of her own voice. “Off.”

  Taigen pulled her upper body into his arms, removing the rest of her flannel shirt and tank top quickly. He moved down to her feet to take off her shoes then socks, followed by her jeans.

  “Off,” she said again. Left only in her bra and panties, he lifted her into his arms. The world wobbled as he stood up too quickly. Off.

  She counted squares of tile as they moved into the showers, but nothing calmed the tilting walls.

  Taigen dropped her legs, gripping her around the stomach with his forearm, her back against his chest as he turned on the water. He tried to avoid the scores across her stomach, but there were too many. He shoved her under ice-cold water.

  “Get it off me.” Torrhent moved her hands over her body as fast as possible to remove the slick red liquid from her skin. Nothing worked. It was everywhere, running down the drain, soaking into her skin and hair. The salty taste in her mouth made her stomach twist.

  Taigen tried to help, pushing her under the spray. He rubbed her face gently. He worked her shoulders then moved down to her toes.

  It seemed like an hour under the spray until she couldn’t feel a single drop of blood left. Torrhent sank to the floor, the cold water sinking into her bones. Eyes closed, hands wrapped around her stomach, she let the water seep into her mouth. She shook like never before, every muscle in her body tensing randomly. Not even dead bodies made her feel this way, and for the first time she could remember she wished she’d never walked into that house over a year ago.

  Taigen backed away slowly, his work boots sloshing a thin layer of water around. “I’ll find you some new clothes.”

  He turned his back on her.

  “Stay,” she pled, looking up at him. She tried to put all the energy she had left into forcing a smile, but feared the product. This wasn’t right. She knew she shouldn’t put him through this, but it didn’t matter.

  She needed him.

  “Please.” The water rushed over her head and down her shoulders as he looked down on her, and suddenly she felt as if he could see her for who she really was: a coward.

  He sat next to her. Taigen shivered but wrapped his arm over her shoulder. His touch calmed her pulse, evened her breathing, and cleared her mind. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life as she spoke. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Chapter 14

  “We can use some of this dried brush for a fire.” Taigen’s gaze wandered over Torrhent’s still form. He threw the brush into a pile and crouched to start the fire. The clearing they’d stopped in was less than five miles away from the bar. Not far, but safe for the time being.

  She tried to hide the spots of blood already seeping through her thin shirt behind folded arms. Her clothes were ruined, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat from the walk.

  Torrhent had stood on her own when she should have crumpled in the face of death. She was strong. She was beautiful and she took his breath away. He had no way of knowing just one night of passion with her would change his entire outlook on life. A woman he hadn’t known even two weeks ago occupied a good portion of his thoughts. He’d killed for her, and he’d do it again, kill anyone who tried to harm her.

  Exposing her to the hit men trailing them had been a mistake. While he hadn’t expected it to be easy, emotionless, the look of fear in her eyes had nearly ripped his heart in two. The emotions he buried in favor of focusing on his sister resurfaced as Taigen assessed Torrhent from afar. He couldn’t stand the pain in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to ensure she’d never have to suffer again.

  Drawing blood had marked her, stunned her, and she rode close to the border of shock. If he wasn’t careful, she’d snap. The bullet lodged in his chest blazed as if it was on fire, screaming for release. He rubbed at it. “You should rest. You’ll tear the stitches if you don’t.”

  Her gaze weighed on him as he stepped back from the growing fire and sat down.

  She followed his advice, sinking down onto the dirt slowly. Torrhent was in pain and he couldn’t help her. All he’d been able to do was stop the bleeding by stitching her up with thread and a needle he carried in his duffle bag. It wasn’t the best, but it worked. His skills as a medic had come in handy after all.

  He exhaled in agony as she winced. “Eat.”

  He threw a bag of jerky beside her, unwilling to make her move for fear she’d tear her stitches.

  Torrhent stared into the fire. She tried to bring her knees into her chest but winced again, the pain echoing in Taigen’s chest. “I’m not hungry.”

  All he saw when he looked at her was how the campfire made the droplets of sweat on her forehead glisten. As if they were connected, he experienced every ounce of pain written on her face. “It’ll help with the shock and nausea.”

  “I’m fine.” She closed her eyes, fisting her shaking hands. Torrhent was going over the edge.

  He scooted closer to her, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Torrhent.”

  It took a couple snaps to get her attention and her whole body began to shake. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder, his free hand massaging her left arm. “You’re going into shock. Come on, lie down.”

  She did, but not without help.

  “Tell me about the room you grew up in.” He needed her to focus, to keep her mind off of what happened back there. “What color were the walls?” He ran his fingertips over the stains on her shirt. They were wet. New. Dread raked its way up his throat, but he tried to keep his voice even so as not to alarm her. If they didn’t make it to civilization, the wounds would become infected and she�
�d sink into septic shock. He didn’t think the blade had punctured any vital organs. Not enough blood seeped onto the bandages, but without so much as salt water, Torrhent could die from infection.

  She sucked in air through gritted teeth when his fingers pressed too hard on one of the lacerations. “Purple.”

  He brushed his fingers through her hair with one hand as he lifted her shirt with his other. She’d already torn two of the twenty stitches, most likely from walking. “You don’t seem like a purple kind of girl.”

  She laughed, slight hints of hysteria tinting the sound. “My mom thought purple would be better than red.”

  Her eyes had glazed over, her attention not really there.

  Taigen was losing her. He pressed his fingertips against her throat. Tachycardic. “Torrhent, your heartbeat is too high. I need you to breathe like I do.”

  He made a show of inhaling deeply. “Now breathe out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Good.”

  She followed along simply enough, bits of sanity returning to her eyes slowly.

  “What else was in your room?”

  Her eyes searched for something, maybe him, and Taigen complied. He leaned over her, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. Their eyes connected and he sensed the worst of the shock had passed.

  “Backstreet Boys posters.” She licked her cracked lips, a smile spreading across her face. “And ’N Sync.”

  Taigen dropped his head to her chest, laughter shaking his entire body. It took him a second to regain his composure. “Backstreet Boys?”

  She smiled back at him, but it soon began to recede. Her pulse evened out, her breathing easy.

  “I should have been there sooner.” He hadn’t meant for her to get hurt but had known it was a possibility. Their enemies were hit men after all. Like him, they only dealt in blood.

  “It was inevitable,” she whispered.

  His eyes never deviated from hers as he spoke. “Torrhent, back there, in the shower—”

  “I meant every word.” She tried to push herself upright, but he held her down.