Irrevocably Shattered

by S. C. Ellen

  “Trust me, angel, nothing is going to happen to you. Not on my watch.”

  Suddenly I am met with an ear-ringing scream that has my blood boiling over, and then the line goes dead.

  I take my anger out on my steering wheel. Muttering curse after curse, pushing my speedometer to its highest speed, but still not fast enough.

  The urge to kill weighs heavy on me, and the lust for blood is at an all-time high. I’ve never felt the need for death so violently before, and God help the man once I get to him, because I’m going to send him straight into the darkest pits of Hell the minute I get my hands on him.

  Alayna

  The passenger door rips open, causing the phone to drop out of my hands, and I let out a terrified shriek.

  “Looking for these?” the man sneers, dangling the keys in front of me. I am grabbed out of the car by my hair, and the perpetrator holds what I assume is a knife against my neck.

  I am dragged forcefully back into my house and thrown into a chair.

  I can’t see the man’s face because he has a black ski mask on, but I can see his eyes. His eyes are ones I won’t be forgetting any time soon. They are the coldest black I have ever seen.

  “Please…what do you want?” I can feel my heart beating rapidly right through my shirt, silently praying that someone—anyone—is almost here to save me.

  A hard slap delivered across my face is my answer.

  “Did I tell you to speak, suka?”

  Another hard slap.

  “Answer!”

  “No! No, you didn’t.”

  His phone rings, and he answers it. I take in my surroundings. I search for things I could use as self-defense weapons, but that won’t do any good considering most of the things around me right now wouldn’t inflict harm on anyone.

  However, my eyes land on the knife rack in my kitchen, but it’s a good distance away from me.

  I inhale a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I am about to do.

  It is now or never.

  With his back still turned, I make a hasty run to the object but am immediately tackled to the ground with the wind knocked right out of me.

  My head hits the floor painfully, and my vision blurs for a second.

  Before I can recover, the man forcefully kicks the side of my stomach, and I groan out in pain while curling into myself. Hovering over my body, he once again grabs at my hair, bringing me eye-level with his murderous glare. “I should kill you right now. You’re lucky boss wants you alive.”

  Before I could ask who wants me alive, a crash at the front door interrupts everything. The intruder quickly picks me up and turns me around, holding me hostage inside of his arms. I feel a cold, metal barrel embed itself directly under my chin.

  “Alayna!” I hear my name being shouted, but the gun being pushed harder into my chin tells me to keep my mouth shut.

  He drags me into the front room, and to my utter relief, I see Carson with his gun pointed straight at the man behind me.

  “You have five seconds to get your filthy hands off of her before I blow them off of you.” Carson’s voice is menacing, and I am physically shaking in the man’s hold. His gaze drags up the length of my body taking in my current clothing situation—or the lack of thereof. The intruder notices and starts to ominously laugh.

  “She is beautiful, no?” He shifts the gun from under my chin and lazily trails it across the center of my exposed cleavage.

  I shudder out a whimper. Carson’s menacing glare is trained on the man, his knuckles whitening around the edges of the trigger.

  Before I even know what is going on, someone comes up from behind and pries the Russian man off of me. Before I lose my footing from the unexpected release, I am dragged away in another man’s tight embrace. This time, it’s an embrace I am more than thankful to be in.

  Carson’s voice interjects the commotion happening right behind me. “Are you hurt?”

  I don’t answer. My gaze focused solely on Jase who has the man pressed firmly against the wall in a deathly chokehold.

  My face is pulled away from the gripping scene, and Carson comes into view again.

  A chill breaks its away across my skin. Thankfully, Carson notices my current clothing situation, and tosses the blanket I had from when I was reading earlier around me.

  “I need to know, Alayna,” he asks a little more aggressively. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

  I’m in shock and unable to register pain at this point, so I quickly shake my head no. Content with my answer, he moves me over to sit on the couch, and an unexpected wave of pain erupts in my side.

  I achingly clutch my sore rib, finding an angry-looking bruise already forming on the surface. His gaze zeroes in on it, and if he hadn’t already reached his boiling point, he does now.

  In a mere second, Carson is in front of the Russian with his gun in one hand, and the man’s neck in the other. He says something under his breath to Jase, and Jase makes his way over to me.

  Jase blocks my line of vision for a quick second, and an ear-ringing gunshot breaks through the air as I scream.

  “Carson!” I shout, hoping it wasn’t him at the end of that bullet.

  Hauling me over to the couch, I put up a fight, but Jase grudgingly forces me down, and I wince from the movement.

  “Stop fighting me, Alayna! You’re only going to hurt yourself more!”

  “But the shot…” I begin, but with a clear view to the kitchen I see what’s unfolding before me.

  Carson is practically beating the man to death. He isn’t Carson at all in the moment, he’s a monster, a trained killer. He’s Blizzard.

  With blood spilling out of the man’s arm, he stands absolutely no chance. Come to think of it, Bullet wound or not, he still held no chance of surviving against Carson anyway.

  Carson has him pinned to the floor. The ski mask the man had on has long since been removed from the scuffle, and blood is absolutely everywhere.

  The intruder has the audacity to smile up at Carson, taking pleasure in his beating.

  “You know nothing, you fool. You have a shit storm coming your way, and I will be laughing from the other side at your misery.” Looking over at me, he sneers. “And your little suka there will make a nice pet slave to some sick bastard. He’ll fuck her pussy with his blade and pass her on to the next sick fuck, while each of you helplessly watch her bleed out right in front of—”

  Before he has the chance to say another word, Carson’s fist comes straight at his face, disconnecting his jaw—preventing him from speaking any further. Without relent, he ruthlessly sends blow after blow, disfiguring the man’s face altogether. Not even the men who arrive as backup can stop him.

  “Carson! We need him alive! We need information! Stop or you’re going to kill him!” I hear a couple of the men shout.

  After what feels like forever, he delivers one last kick to the side of the man’s ribcage, finally finished with him.

  “Take him before I change my mind again and finish the job,” he angrily spits.

  They drag the body out of the back door, leaving a trail of blood behind.

  I watch as Carson takes a few deep breaths and runs his hands through his hair. He turns his attention toward me, and if I’m being honest, part of me is scared to be in his presence right now.

  I avoid Carson’s stare and tremble in Jase’s embrace.

  “What do you think was the motive for tonight?” Jase asks Carson, still attempting to comfort me.

  Carson’s adrenaline is running high. He paces the floor with his hands still knotted in fists, almost as if he is trying hard not to go back out there and finish the man 0nce and for all. “With these Russian bastards, it’s hard to know.”

  “They were looking for me,” I whisper out.

  “What?” Carson asks, stopping dead in his tracks.

  “When I locked myself in the bathroom, I heard him speaking to someone on the phone. They said they followed you here, and then they mentioned me.
He said his boss wanted me alive.” With an unsteady glance toward Carson, his expression hardens even more.

  “Fucking Dmitri,” Jase curses. “Dad was right. He knew they would try to use her as revenge.”

  “Not on my fucking watch,” Carson affirms.

  With my mind and body numb from tonight’s events, all I can think about is how much I actually do need protection, and I was a fool to think otherwise.

  With the room suddenly becoming too small, and Jase’s overbearing grip on me, I am on the brink of losing it. Carson must’ve picked up on that as he turns to Jase.

  “You should go back to the club, Jase. It’s late, and your father is probably on the verge of starting a war himself if he doesn’t get a full report on Alayna’s condition soon.”

  “It’s fine. I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Jase explains.

  I reassure him that I am okay, just a bit shaken up, and he leaves with little protest.

  Once Carson walks him out and locks the door, I take inventory of the scene before me, including the blood all over the kitchen, and the sight of Carson, whose shirt is now soaked in another man’s blood.

  He sees me staring at his clothing.

  “I should probably go change,” he says, beginning to walk away.

  I’m scared of him, but for some odd reason, me being alone right now terrifies me more.

  “Wait!” I shout, and he stops in his tracks, turning around to face me once more. “I… I don’t think I can handle being alone right now.”

  He regards me with such gentle tenderness, for a moment, I think I imagined it.

  “I won’t leave you alone, mio angelo. I swear it.”

  My anxious heart soars at his words. Angel. He’s called me that a few times, but somehow hearing it in Italian makes it seem more personal. I’m the naïve angel, and he’s the savage demon, covered in another man’s blood, and here I am foolishly seeking his comfort. My eyes must have still been glued onto his clothing, because soon he’s removing his gun holster strapped around his chest, and his hands are trailing to the bottom hem of his shirt, ripping it off, and throwing it off to the side.

  The evidence of what he has done is now removed, and in its place stands a shirtless, beautiful yet terrifying man, who hides a dark and dangerous monster beneath the layers.

  He offers me his hand to try and help me up, but I’m weary of it. Not only because I’m afraid of the amount of pain I’ll be in because of my bruised rib, but because of what those very hands are clearly capable of doing.

  He lets out a breath, running a coarse hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  A cold chill works its way down my spine.

  He notices, of course. “I promised your father I would do anything to protect you, and if scaring you is part of that process, well, then, I don’t apologize for it because at least you are safe.”

  “So why say sorry in the first place?”

  “Because I’m sorry you had to witness it, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I’m a bad man capable of bad things, Alayna, you should be sure to remember that.”

  I turn to him, remembering our conversation from the other night. “I know exactly what kind of things you are capable of, Carson, and I know that you carry more darkness inside of you than others, but I can’t help but…feel that deep down you want me to fear you,” I whisper, peeking up at him. “And I do.” But not in the way you think.

  His gaze strays toward the bloody scene in the kitchen. “You should, Alayna. I enjoy the hell I bring, and the destruction I make, with no remorse. I am the last man whom you would ever want to seek solace in.”

  “So why did you stay when I asked you to?”

  He stares sullenly at me. “For my own selfish reasons.”

  Suddenly feeling very tired and in need of sleep to get over tonight’s emotional trauma, I attempt to make my way off of the couch. I let out a shriek as pain erupts in my side, and my hand reaches out to calm it.

  Carson moves to gently steady me back down, with his gaze focused solely on my injured rib. “I need to take a look at it.”

  “It’s fine,” I begin, turning away, but a wince makes its way across my face.

  “Stop being so stubborn, for once, Alayna. I need to check if it’s broken or fractured.”

  And without warning, he gently pulls me toward him on the sofa, and I am now backed up against his broad chest. I sit stiffly against him as he opens the robe across my injured side, mindful of keeping my breasts covered underneath. With a trained eye, his hand delicately trails a slow path across my sensitive skin, causing goose bumps to form at the touch.

  My breath hitches, and for a moment I forget all about the pain. He takes his time examining the tender skin— almost like he is savoring the moment as well. His touch is so mindfully gentle against it, I would have never guessed those same hands nearly beat a man to death just minutes before. Uneasiness works its way back up my throat at the reminder, and he must read my thoughts, because after a few moments, he removes his hand and covers me back up.

  We stare intently at one another, just inches away, breathing the same air. His gaze trails toward my lips, as mine moves to his, feeling compelled to close the gap between us.

  “So, what’s the prognosis, doctor?”

  The air is intense and thickening around us.

  A flash of desire dances across his pupils for a moment before he lets out a breath, “Luckily, it’s just a bruise and will heal in a few days’ time.”

  Carson’s phone rings just then, startling us both. He curses and gives me an apologetic glance. “It’s your father,” he states before answering. “She’s fine, Vin. Just a bruised rib and a bit shaken up.” He gets up from the couch without aggravating my side and takes a look out of the front window. “No cops, and no witnesses on scene. Commotion wasn’t loud enough to trigger any kind of warning bells, thankfully.”

  I tune out the conversation, feeling more exhausted than ever. I must have zoned out for a bit, because soon I feel myself being effortlessly scooped up and cradled as Carson carries me up the stairs and into my room. He gently places me on my bed with a look of reverence masking his features.

  “See, I don’t think you’re as bad as you lead on, you didn’t have to carry me,” I say with a tired sigh. I carefully sit up, making sure to lean up against the cushioned pillows for support.

  His brows furrow together. “You’re injured, Alayna. Don’t mistake a duty for an act of kindness. This is nothing more than a job.”

  His words hurt, but I know that’s his intention. Job or not, there’s no mistaking an undeniable pull forming between us, and he can’t make me believe otherwise.

  “You are second-in-command, Carson. You have some say in my father’s decisions. You could have easily handed off the job to someone else and return back to your life in New York, yet here you stay. Why?”

  He watches me for a moment with contemplation. “Because I gave my word to your father, and that’s reason enough.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  His eyes bore into mine and trail a tantalizing path down my body, ignoring my question. Confused by his immense stare, I realize exactly what his attention is so focused on.

  “As appealing as you look in my robe, may I ask why you’re wearing it?”

  I embarrassingly hang my head, ashamed that I’ve been caught. “I wanted to see how it looked on me, I guess.” I feel the heat of a blush creep upon my cheeks.

  With unexpected swiftness, I feel his hand lift my chin with a look of conflict. “You’re a siren, Alayna. A sweet and innocent siren set out to destroy me and everything that I fucking stand against.”

  Staring into his bright and sullen eyes, my heart beats faster against my chest. He drinks me in with his strong and unwavering gaze. The connection between us is buzzing at an alarming high.

  I am just inches from his lips. One move and we’d both be in another dangerous situation. For my heart, at
least.

  I see the moment he realizes what is happening, and he suddenly drops my chin and pulls away, looking even more conflicted than he did before.

  Feeling slightly pathetic, and more exposed than ever, I begin to wrap the robe tighter around myself.

  “Why cover now? It’s not like I haven’t seen that body of yours before.”

  My cheeks rise with more heat. “What do you mean?” I ask confused.

  “Who do you think got you into your pajamas Saturday night? You puked all over your clothing and smelled highly toxic.”

  My eyes widen as he laughs, lightening the air around us.

  “Look, we both had a long day, and I think sleep is calling us.” He gets up from the bed but stops himself at the door. “Your safety was compromised tonight, Alayna, and I should have been there to protect you.”

  “You came here when I needed you to, and that’s all that matters.”

  He runs a tired hand down his face and lets out a deep breath of air. “I’m going to set up some guards outside for tonight to keep watch and send someone over for Frank.” My heart drops at the mention of the man who took a bullet meant for me. “Unfortunately, you will need to be relocated as soon as morning hits. Not to mention security is going to get a lot tighter.”

  I nod in understanding as sad as it makes me.

  “Goodnight, Alayna.” He makes a move to turn off the light and shuts the door behind him.

  I fall back into my bed, now alone, in a dark room, with sleep invading my senses and taking me under before I can think too much on it.

  “Alayna! Alayna, wake up, goddammit! You are screaming, wake up!”

  I shoot up from the bed, spotting Carson looking down at me, worry evident in his expression.

  A wave of tenderness grips my bruised side from the movement. I clutch a hold of it again, wiping tears away from the terrible nightmare I had.

  Carson reaches out for me, running a hand down my back to calm me. “It’s okay now, angel, it was just a dream.”

  A sob works its way up my throat at the reminder of the horrible dream. It took me back to the masked man, only this time, no one was there to save me.