by Lisa Childs
He could shoot one of them but not both. He couldn’t win this gunfight. So he holstered his weapon. “If I’d known you were coming to visit, I would have left the door unlocked and some appetizers out.”
Why the hell was Viktor visiting? Garek had made certain no one had followed him down to the River City morgue. If anyone caught him meeting with Special Agent Rus, he was a dead man for sure. That was why so few people could know about his assignment for Rus—because the more people who knew, the more likely it was Chekov might find out.
“We haven’t been here long,” Viktor said.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “Milek is with Tori right now.” Garek had been with Rus for a while—pouring through Donald Doornbos’s past to find a connection between him and Chekov. Garek had even stayed after Rus had left for dinner at Penny Payne’s. He could have gone to dinner, too. He’d been invited.
But Candace had probably been invited, too. And he hadn’t been ready to see her yet. Of course every time he closed his eyes he saw her, lying naked in his bed—her silky skin all flushed with passion, her lips wet and swollen from his kisses…
“Maybe I should have had your boss at Payne Protection assign your brother to protect my daughter,” Viktor said. “It seems like he is the more focused one of the two of you. But then he has no distractions like you have.”
Garek tensed. “Distractions?”
A snide grin twisted Viktor’s face. “The woman bodyguard, the former cop.”
Fear clutched Garek’s heart.
Viktor knew about Candace. For how long?
“Maybe I should have her assigned for Tori’s protection,” Viktor said. “I find I may be down a bodyguard.”
The dead guy had worked for him then.
“Somebody quit?” Garek asked.
Viktor cocked his head. “Quit? More likely he will be fired.”
Oh, he was talking about him—which brought back Rus’s warning. Viktor Chekov didn’t give out pink slips; he gave out toe tags.
“I don’t have any distractions,” Garek claimed.
Chekov stood up and reached for Garek. He patted his face with just enough force it stung. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Garek assured him.
“Then maybe you’re lying to yourself,” Chekov said. “I saw you chase after that woman.”
Had he sent someone after her before Garek had followed her out?
“I didn’t follow her right out,” Garek protested. But someone else had. “But as you pointed out, I work with her. I wanted to make sure she made it safely to her vehicle.” Which she hadn’t…
Viktor laughed. “So now you’re a gentleman?”
Maybe he would have been—had a woman like Penny Payne raised him. But his own mother hadn’t been anything like Penny; she hadn’t cared about her children at all. Even after her husband had tried to assault her daughter, she’d blamed Stacy and them; she’d even testified against them rather than admit she’d been married to a monster.
“And a woman like Candace Baker doesn’t need anyone else to protect her,” Viktor said with grudging respect.
And that vice of fear tightened around Garek’s heart. Viktor had to be behind the attacks on her or how else would he know how well she could take care of herself?
Garek shrugged. “You’re right. That’s why she’s not a distraction. She’s nothing.”
Viktor snorted.
“She’s a former cop,” Garek reminded him. “Do you really think a former cop would ever get involved with a Kozminski? Or a Kozminski with a former cop?”
Viktor laughed. “Your sister married a former cop.”
“My sister never went to prison,” he said. “She never committed a crime.” He could not say the same—no matter how much he wished he could.
He wanted to be a man Candace could admire and respect. Maybe that was why he had accepted Rus’s undercover assignment—because if he was successful, Candace would learn what he had done. His effort to impress her might cost them both their lives, though. He had to convince Chekov that Candace meant nothing to him.
He laughed now. “And do you seriously think I would ever go for a woman like her? She’s tougher than I am. She’s not my type at all.”
“I thought every woman was your type,” one of the other men remarked.
“Like Polinsky,” the other man murmured.
Garek caught the comment and filed it away to consider later. It must have been why Chekov had killed him. Garek nodded at the first guy. “Exactly. Every woman is my type—never just one woman.”
Viktor slapped him again—harder. “Then you better be careful around Tori. She seems to be getting attached to you again.”
Garek didn’t know how since she was still mourning another man—the lover her own father had murdered. But maybe Tori was acting interested in Garek so Viktor didn’t fire him—or kill him.
But maybe her acting was why Chekov had gone after Candace. To eliminate his daughter’s competition.
“I would never hurt Tori,” he said. Not like Viktor had.
Chekov narrowed his dark eyes and nodded. “Good, Garek, then I won’t fire you…” He patted his cheek with less sting this time. “Today…”
He headed toward the door, his lackeys rushing after him. “But there’s always tomorrow…”
He needed to find that damn gun before Chekov used it again. On him…
*
Hearing the creak of the broken door, Candace released the breath she’d been holding. But it didn’t ease the tightness in her chest—the pain in her heart. She’s nothing.
Just another conquest.
She waited for the anger—for the pain—to rush over her. But she couldn’t shake the fear; she trembled with it. When they’d broken in the door, she’d been in the bedroom—going through those plans again. So she’d drawn her weapon and she’d waited for them to come for her.
But they’d settled in the living room. And they’d waited for Garek. She hadn’t known what they were going to do to him. Beat him—like she suspected they had before. Kill him…
She knew Chekov wasn’t above that. Everyone suspected he’d killed his own right-hand man a couple of weeks ago. So why would Garek seek out an assignment working for such a madman?
She stepped from the bedroom and asked, “Why?”
He whirled toward her, his eyes wide and his handsome face pale with shock. “You were here?”
She nodded.
“They didn’t see you?”
“They didn’t look.”
He released a shaky breath. “That’s good. That’s good…”
“Nothing’s good about this,” she said. Gesturing toward the door, she continued, “Look what they’ve done to your place. Why would you want to work for someone like that? Someone that dangerous?”
He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t want to. I have to…”
There it was again—another cryptic comment. “What’s really going on?” she asked.
“Nothing that concerns you,” he replied.
She uttered a bitter laugh. “I’m nothing. I know that…” She’d suspected it herself but she’d hoped she was wrong—about him, about them…
She had hoped they could have a future. But with the way Chekov was treating Garek, she worried he wouldn’t have a future with anyone.
“Candace…” He murmured her name, his voice gruff with emotion. It was in his eyes, too—the silver going dark gray with regret and frustration and something else…
Something she was probably just imagining.
He reached for her, dragging her up against his body. His was shaking slightly. He’d probably thought Chekov was going to kill him. But then he murmured, “They might have killed you if they’d known you were here…”
He cared. It was in his voice—in his eyes—in the desperate way he clutched her against him.
Candace’s breath shuddered out, and she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to hi
m. “You need to get away from Chekov,” she said. “You need to quit.”
“You don’t quit Chekov,” he said.
“You did before.”
“I went to jail,” he reminded her.
She shuddered as she remembered why he’d gone to jail. Murder. But she accepted now there was more to that story, too. The man he’d killed had been a threat to his sister. He’d done it to protect Stacy. She wondered who he was protecting now.
“You could go to jail again,” she warned him, “if you don’t get away from him.”
His lips curved into a slight smile. “I’d be lucky if I just went to jail.”
She shivered again. “Garek, please, get away from him!”
“Like you did me?” he asked. “Like you ran away that first night we spent together?”
She couldn’t deny she’d run. “You took off this morning,” she reminded him. “You didn’t wake me. You left me no note, no explanation.”
“Is that why you came back?” he asked. “For an explanation?”
It wasn’t exactly why she’d come back but she nodded.
“You want to know where I was this morning?” he asked. “The morgue.”
“You identified the man who tried to kill me,” she said. “Did he work for Chekov?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is you need to stay away from me. You need to leave River City again. And this time you need to make sure nobody can track you down—not even Nikki.”
She doubted anyone could hide from Nikki. But she shook her head. “I’m not running.”
“Then you’re a fool,” he said. “You need to stay away from me. I’m just going to hurt you.” He touched her face then, his fingertips sliding along her jaw. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. He stared hungrily at her mouth, as if he was dying for a taste of it. But he didn’t lower his head. “And I don’t want you to get hurt…”
“It’s too late for that,” she said. The things he’d said, the way he’d pushed her away—that had hurt her. But what hurt her more was he was still keeping things from her—things he would want her to know if he ever intended to let her get close to him—as close as she had let him get to her. She’d let him close enough to steal her heart.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Me, too,” she said. “I’m sorry you’re a coward.”
He stepped back as if she’d struck him. “What?”
“You’re a coward,” she accused him. “You’re the one who’s running.”
He laughed now. “How’s that?”
“You’re running from me,” she said. “You’re pushing me away.”
“For your own good!”
“Really?” she challenged him. “My own good? I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me. I’ve been protecting myself for thirty years.”
“Really,” he shot the word back at her. “You could have been killed—twice.”
She laughed. “Twice? You think those are the only times I’ve ever been in danger? That’s nothing. Those weren’t even close calls compared to what I’ve been through. I’ve almost been blown up in Afghanistan and here. I’ve been shot. Stabbed. Hit over the head.”
He flinched as if he could feel the pain she’d felt.
“You’re using danger as an excuse to push me away,” she said. “To stop me from getting any closer to you!” She stabbed him in the chest with the tip of her finger. “You pursued me for a year. You chased me and wore me down but now that you have me—you’re scared.”
His throat moved as he swallowed hard. But he didn’t deny what she was saying.
“What are you scared of?” she asked. “Are you scared I’m going to hurt you?”
He laughed again, but it sounded forced and nervous. “I have never been scared of getting hurt.”
He probably believed that, but she doubted him and raised a brow in skepticism.
“The only thing I’m scared of,” he said, “is you’re going to get hurt.”
She sighed. “And I already told you it’s too late…” And maybe it was. She’d spent too many years wishing Logan would love her. She wasn’t going to waste any more time just wishing for a man’s love—even Garek’s. She nodded. “Yeah, it’s too late…” She headed for the door.
He reached out again, but she jerked away before he could touch her. “Candace, Chekov could have men out there—waiting to see who leaves here. They could follow you.”
She chuckled. “Like I can’t lose a tail…”
“Candace…”
“You wanted me to leave,” she reminded him. “I’m leaving. And this time I will stay away.” She didn’t want to wish or even to fight for a man’s love anymore; she wanted it given freely to her.
As she walked out Garek’s broken door, she accepted they had no chance for a life together. Chekov would probably kill Garek before he ever got a chance to overcome his fear of letting her close. And because he wouldn’t let her close, she wouldn’t be there to protect him—to protect what they could have had, had he given them a chance.
*
Nick stared at the Christmas tree glowing brightly in Mrs. Payne’s living room. Lights of every size had been strung around it, and ornaments covered it. Most of them handmade and with a story.
He wasn’t part of that story, of this family. But she kept trying to pull him into it. Shouldn’t she hate him like her kids hated him? He was living proof her dead husband had cheated on her.
But instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer. Even now she squeezed his hand as she passed him a mug of hot chocolate. “Thank you for staying,” she said.
He wasn’t sure why she’d asked him to stay as everyone else had been leaving. Maybe she thought he was mad. She had tricked him into dinner. He’d thought it was just one of her usual offers for a home-cooked dinner. He hadn’t realized she’d dragged him into a family tradition.
He probably wouldn’t have refused her request even if he’d known. He was unable to refuse her anything. He wasn’t the one who’d betrayed her, but he was the only one still alive to carry the burden of guilt for that betrayal.
“Thank you for dinner,” he said.
She touched his face. He wasn’t used to maternal affection. He wasn’t used to maternal. “You barely ate,” she said.
He had been uncomfortable over more than just his younger half sister’s glares. Stacy Kozminski-Payne’s obvious concern for her brothers had bothered him and increased his usual burden of guilt.
“I’m sorry I ambushed you with the family dinner,” Penny said.
He chuckled. “I am glad you’re on the right side of the law. You’d be dangerous if you weren’t.”
She murmured, “Speaking of dangerous…”
He tensed. This woman had some kind of psychic sixth sense. She always knew what was going on with her family—with every member, biological or whom she had emotionally adopted like she had the Kozminskis, like she was trying with him.
“What is going on with Garek Kozminski?” she asked.
“Why do you think I would know?” he wondered. It was supposed to be an undercover operation.
She smiled. “Because you’re like me, Nicholas.”
He could have pointed out that wasn’t possible. He had none of her DNA or her nurturing. They were nothing alike. But he didn’t argue with her.
“You know what’s going on with everyone,” she said. “You know before they know.”
He laughed. “You might be psychic,” he said. “I’m just good at my job.”
She nodded. “That’s what Chief Lynch said about you.”
She had met his Bureau boss at the weddings of two of his agent friends. He hadn’t realized they’d exchanged more than pleasantries, though.
“He said it’s all you have,” she added. “That it’s all you care about.”
He shrugged. “I enjoy my work.”
“You need more in your life.”
A face—a beautiful face—flas
hed through his mind, but he blinked the image away.
“Work is all I need,” he assured her and himself.
She sighed. “You know you need more. You’re so close to getting it, Nicholas. You’re so close to becoming part of a real family.”
He hated the pang that hit his chest and reminded him how that was all he’d ever wanted. He forced a laugh. “Nikki will never accept me.”
“She will,” Penny said. “Your brothers already have. But the Kozminskis are family, too.”
They had once been enemies of the Paynes—at least of Logan and Parker. But now they all acted like brothers. Maybe there was hope for him and Nikki to overcome their differences someday.
“And if you’ve put Garek and Milek in danger,” she continued, “and something happens to them…”
She was just fishing. That was all. But he couldn’t lie to her, so he said nothing.
“This is where you’re supposed to assure me nothing will happen to them,” she said, her warm brown eyes full of concern.
But he couldn’t lie to her, so he said nothing.
Chapter 14
Fury gripped Garek, clutching his stomach. He reached out and tore the broken door from the bent hinges. It dropped onto the floor. He didn’t care there was no door. There was nothing in that apartment he cared about—now Candace had left.
“Damn her,” he said. “Damn her…”
She was right. Even though he wasn’t the one who’d left that night, even though he hadn’t gone anywhere, he was running, too. He was running from her and using her safety as an excuse to do it.
Hell, she was Candace Baker. She was stronger, smarter and braver than he was. There was nothing she hadn’t handled or couldn’t handle. Even Viktor Chekov…
Disgusted with himself—with his cowardice as she’d called it—he kicked the door. But he got no satisfaction. The tight knot in his gut didn’t ease. He had to find her—had to be with her. Had to admit she was right.
He was scared. And not just for her. He was scared of her. Because she could hurt him far worse than Viktor Chekov could. As he started out the door, his cell phone rang. That cell phone—the one only Nick Rus called.