by K. A Knight
Nadia’s Salvation
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places, events or real people are entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 K.A. Knight, all rights reserved
Written by K.A. Knight
Edited By Jess from Elemental Editing and Proofreading.
Formatted by Kaila Duff of Duffette Literary Services.
Cover by Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also By K.A Knight
To all the girls out there who wanted to be the hero of their own story when they grew up, this one is for you...
sal·va·tion
noun
The act of saving or protecting from harm, risk, loss, or destruction.
Chapter One
Nadia
Five days before Christmas, it happens. We should be celebrating and getting ready for the holiday. It’s always such a big deal in our house, and this year the tree is half decorated, the presents unwrapped, the food untouched, and the mood somber.
She’s gone.
My gammie, my best friend, is dead.
Logically, I knew it was happening. She was on palliative care with district nurses and carers in and out all the time, and of course I was helping...but she was so strong, even in the end. Her body was failing her, but her mind was not, and maybe that’s why it’s so hard to accept. It’s not like she wasn’t there, she was, she knew what was happening. Knew the pain, discomfort, and stench of death hanging over her. She had her moments of weakness, but through it all, her disease, she was strong. So fucking strong—so I was strong with her, I had to be.
We were all we had.
Now? Now I’m painfully alone, with just her ghost in the house. Her bed is half unmade, and the clothes she wore the day before tossed aside. Her pearl necklace and bracelets, which we had to take off so she didn’t lose them—in the end they were too big for her—are lying forgotten on her dresser. She wore them every day of her life, but her inability to eat meant she lost weight dramatically.
People use words like devastation, heartache, and grief, but none of it covers this...this fucking agony. This loss. It’s unreal. I feel like she took me with her, my heart is beating but not feeling, my soul fractured beyond repair.
The house isn’t right without her, the world shouldn’t spin, the sun shouldn’t shine, but it does. The world goes on, keeps turning, while I’m stuck...in this pain.
I shiver from the biting cold and pull my long, grey wool coat tighter around me, trying to keep in my body heat as I watch her casket being lowered into the ground. I can hear people whispering, the sound of crying and comfort being offered, even the priest speaking. None of it means anything though. I tune it out, watching the lacquered wood disappear into the grave.
The ground consuming her.
Once it’s over, people stare at me, they offer pitying words and sympathetic looks and move on, heading home to their families. The priest sighs, places his hand on my shoulder, and tells me that I know where he is if I need anything and how sorry he is for my loss, what a God-loving woman she was.
It’s fucking lies. She hated going to church and the only God she believed in was the one you found at the bottom of a wine bottle. I nod anyway, like I’m supposed to, and he moves on, no doubt to his next funeral and grieving family. I’m alone now, my toes frozen in my black, high heeled boots, and my legs shivering in my thick black tights. The knee-length, black dress doesn’t offer much warmth, and yet I still don’t move.
I stare at where she is, knowing if I walk away that it’s the end. She truly isn’t coming back…that in this big, horrible world, I’m truly alone. I feel Scarlett step to my side, grabbing my cold hand and squeezing, standing with me. Max is at my back, his heat and warmth reminding me of his presence as he murmurs his sympathy to me. I nod again, like a good little girl, like a puppet with her strings being pulled.
I love them both like family, and I’m glad they’re here, but I feel disconnected knowing they have each other. Me? No one.
I don’t know what makes me raise my eyes, but when I do, they clash with the bright green ones of Keanu. He’s leaning against a tree away from the grave and procession, trying to blend into the background like always—preferring to see, not be seen. He stares at me, not saying anything or smiling or even looking away. Just stares, letting me get lost in those emerald orbs.
His short blond hair, longer on the top, is swept artfully back. Small waves ruin the perfection of it, and I bet that annoys him. He likes everything to be in place, perfect, and controlled. His muscled, swimmer’s body is hidden in a long black coat, similar to mine, with gold buttons. He’s dressed in a dark grey suit with a white shirt underneath, his tie bright red, brilliant against all that monotony. He wanted me to see it, to see him.
His shoes are black and shined to perfection, like the man himself.
Keanu Gray.
Scarlett introduced me to him officially at Max’s birthday party where they got engaged, but even though I thought he was hot and I was interested, he remained aloof. Watching me like I was a leper of some kind, answering my questions and flirting with clipped monotone answers...something which seemed to surprise even Scarlett. After that, I stayed away at the party, and he watched me all night.
I haven’t seen him since.
Why is he here?
For Max? For Scarlett?
For me?
I drag my eyes away, focusing on Scarlett to see her mouth moving.
“Are you listening to me, Nads?” she asks, with a concerned frown on her face.
I clear my throat, my voice scratchy from disuse these last few days, strange for me. “I—” I glance at the grave again. “Yes.”
“Do you want to stay with me tonight? Max is going back to his old house so you can,” she offers, squeezing my hand and drawing my gaze to her again.
“Sure,” I reply, I don’t want to go home and find it empty, so it’s the best option for right now. Scarlett knows the pain I’m feeling. Her mum was killed by a crazy boy, but I guess she wasn’t as close as Gammie and I, but still she knows. She doesn’t pry or try and pull my attention again, both of them just standing at my side with me as I stare in the freezing cold.
My eyes go back to the tree where Keanu was...only he’s gone. It’s empty. Licking my chapped lips, I nod again, this time for me, and let go of Scarlett’s hand and step closer to the grave. “Goodbye, Gammie,” I whisper, bending down and closing my eyes, drawing up an image of her—only it’s not a happy one. It’s her the othe
r morning, when I’d gone to get her medication, only to come back and find her gone...she had held on for me, knowing I wasn’t ready. That previous night, I told her I was...just for her, and she had died.
The image is of her slack, vacant face with her eyes sunken into her malnourished skull. Her lips are too big, her false teeth overly large and protruding. Her cheeks hollow and pale, cold to the touch. Her mouth slightly parted, her eyes frozen open.
Like a horror movie.
A tear squeezes from my eye, rolling down my cheek, and I let it fall to the ground below to burrow into the soil with her, leaving a part of me with her always.
I don’t want to remember her like that, but it’s all I can see, so I open my eyes and look at the casket once again. Swallowing hard, trying to wet my dry mouth, I climb to my feet, stumbling on the uneven ground, my body weak from the shock, pain, and not eating. Scarlett is there to catch me and she turns me into her chest. Wrapping her arm around me, she leads me from the graveyard.
Away from her.
She’s really gone.
What do I do now?
Scarlett went into my house and packed my bag so I didn’t have to. I stayed in the jeep she shares with Max, since he took a taxi back to his old house, although he’s not used to staying there, unable to be apart for long. They’re inseparable, so it means a lot that they will be for tonight. For me.
Pressing my cheek to the droplet-covered window, I peer through the slightly fogged glass, watching as she locks up my childhood home and rushes to the car to avoid the spitting rain. I zone out as we drive. Part of me knows it’s shock, but I don’t care.
She leads me into her apartment, turns off the security system, and kicks off her shoes as she goes. It’s empty, Max must have taken Milo with him. I blink, just staring around, even though I feel her worried gaze on the side of my face.
“Let’s get you warm,” she tells me, and I nod again.
She helps me out of my shoes and coat, and leads me to the bathroom, starting a bath for me. Scarlett tests the water before she looks back at me with a soft smile on her face. “I’ll leave you alone, take as long as you need. I’ll make you some food for when you get out. You need to eat, that’s not a request, but an order,” she states, stepping closer. “I love you, Nads, whatever you need, I’m here,” she murmurs, before sweeping gracefully from the room, the door clicking shut softly behind her, encasing me in my own bubble of silence and loneliness.
I take off my clothes, tossing them carelessly on the floor. I don’t want to see them again, not after today, they can be fucking burned for all I care. The water is hot, burning my cold skin, like a fire chasing away the numbness as I sink into the watery depths. I submerge myself, my hair floating around me as I blink open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling through a pool of water. The crown moulding is slightly distorted as I stare...and stare. My lungs scream at me as I hold my breath and bubbles float up to the surface. I wonder, could I just float away...just leave? No more bubbles, no more me. No pain, loss, or anything...just gone. Could the water take me away to a place where it hurts less?
But no, I can’t do that. Gammie taught me to fight, even when the world gets tough, even when nothing seems to be going your way. She always told me to smile and stand back up. I can hear her voice now.
Dust yourself off, pretty bird, there’s fight left in you yet, you just need to find it.
How? How do I find it, Gammie? But she doesn’t answer me, and my body forces me to resurface, breaking through the stillness like a shark through the waves, gasping for air as the sobs start, racking my body.
Tears mix with the bathwater as I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, laying my head on top and letting my body shake from the force of it. I don’t even hear the door open, but I jump when a warm hand touches my shoulder and I lift my head, peering through my wet dark hair, blinking the moisture away from my lashes to stare at Scarlett, my best friend, my sister.
She takes one look at me and climbs into the tub with me, drawing me into her arms and holding me tight, letting me fist her dress in my hands as I sob into her shoulder. All the while, she holds me, brushing my wet hair soothingly away, and whispering comforting words. One phrase stands out above the rest.
Never alone.
I told her that once, that she was never alone. She had hit rock bottom, crying like I am now...is this my rock bottom?
“I’ve got you, get it all out, babe, I’ve got you,” she murmurs, her sweet voice wrapping around me like a blanket.
I don’t know how long we sit there. My tears finally dry up, and the water is cold now, but she doesn’t complain. She simply waits for me to lift my head. Undoubtedly my makeup is ruined and smudged, but she beams at me so brightly that I can’t help my lips turning up into a small semblance of a smile.
“What now?” I ask her.
Chapter Two
Keanu
I watch her stand at the edge of the grave, her shoulders rounded and defeated. Her usual confidence and attitude have disappeared in her grief. She looks so small in this graveyard, so alone, even with Scarlett and Max beside her. Like she’s holding herself away from them, her face pale and stricken. Her eyes are so lost and filled with pain, I itch to drag her into my arms and promise her I’ll make it all better.
I can’t, I know that better than anyone.
I lost my parents when I was ten years old. They were killed in front of my very eyes, a random attack they said...I knew different. It was a hit, I tried to tell them, but no one believed me and I didn’t want to be labelled as crazy. My grandfather made sure of that, beating the obsession out of me. I hid it well, the need to prove what happened and find the men who did it. I trained hard, joining the army as soon as I could, but I was recruited to special ops for my technical skills. My record was scrubbed and my death faked to protect my identity, the assassin’s assassin they called me. The Spider, the spy. Once I spun my web, they were trapped.
I used the skills they taught me, and I learned over the years how to hunt down my parents’ murderers, and when I killed them...Donald found me. They were two of his best men, so we made a deal—he would give me the person who ordered the hit. He’d break his own rule, if I’d work for him.
Five years later and I’m still employed by him. I enjoy the job, I’m good at it, each assignment tests my skills. It gives me something to do and makes me money to buy new toys.
Nadia turns my way again, looking at the tree I was leaning against, wanting her to see me. Now, I’m in the shadows of the next one watching her, that tie I wore for her wrapped around my fist, covering the dissecting scars from years of service. I observe her from the shadows, like always, as she’s led away by Scarlett, appearing so fragile and unlike her normal self that it sends a spike of pain through my chest.
Max nods at me, spotting me with ease, that bastard. I nod back and he turns away, protecting my girl and his, opening the car door for them, then getting in and driving away. He texts me moments later.
BayWatch: She’s staying with Scarlett.
I read the message a few times, not bothering to reply as I pocket my phone, push away from the tree, and slip into my black jag and pull away. I have a job to do, so I’ll check on her again later. It’s become an obsessive trait since that first moment I saw her on my screens when Scarlett had called. It had only gotten worse when we’d met. On the outside, I’m easy going, even the flirt Scarlett called me once, but underneath that is steel, cold, hard, unbendable steel, and she pushed against that. Scratched at it like an itch you can’t get rid of.
Where I am control and precise, she is wild and chaotic.
She came out of nowhere and threw my perfectly organised world into madness, but I can’t seem to care, not when it comes in such a beautifully damaged package. I crave her, this woman, I want her, but I can’t have her.
She knows too much about our world already. Scarlett told her and Donald found out, then he assigned me to monitor her
, ordered me to take her out if she so much as whispers about us.
But could I?
Could I kill the woman I crave?
The woman I watch from my screens with her vibrant, full life so different than the cold hostility of my own?
The answer before would have been a resounding yes without even a second thought.
But now?
I know her, I want her.
I don’t know, and that not knowing scares me like nothing has in the last ten years.
I race through the city as the rain washes over it, weaving through traffic and heading for my house. What Max labelled my fortress of solitude...or geekitude. He isn’t wrong. Not even Donald knows where it is. My command room is under lock and key with its own air system, and if it’s under attack, everything will be wiped and backed up elsewhere.
Some would call me paranoid, but when you hold enough secrets to level governments and destroy countries, you would be too. Donald goes to Max for kills and raw, brute strength…but he comes to me for the darker side of life. The secrets, the games, and the things people don’t want known.