Retribution (5 page)

It was the one that Ivan
called up for him after he’d settled his things in the room next to
Katya’s at the house, the same one he rode in from the airport that
day. The car was very expensive, and plush. Nothing but the best
for Nickolov’s daughter he supposed. He would have preferred
something less conspicuous, but it really wasn’t up to him. This
would attract attention and the press was already out front
waiting. He made sure they moved quickly before they were spotted.
The driver, one of Peter’s men, got out and opened door. Ryan
helped her in before he gave the driver the suitcase and got in
beside her.

She crossed her legs and
stared out the side window.

Ryan adjusted his blazer
and shifted slightly when he sat next to her because his gun
holster pinched his ribs. It was so routine that he didn’t even
think about it. He was a big man, over two hundred and twenty
pounds at six foot four. Although he shouldn’t have, his eyes went
to her legs. She had nicely shaped legs, but there were telltale
bruises on them also. He averted his gaze feeling a little guilty.
More evidence of the abuse she endured. Apparently it wasn’t
limited to her upper body. God, he hoped she was still mentally
stable. It would be much more difficult guarding a nut job. They
were unpredictable.

Once the car started moving
she removed her sunglasses and without looking at him finally
spoke. “I don’t like to be hovered around Mr. Casey.”

“Noted.”

She glanced at him
expecting more of a protest. There was determination in her
expression. She was trying to sound and look firm. “Or spied on,
or—touched.”

His eyes went over her face
knowing that last statement was profound. He was certain that she’d
had enough negative physical contact to last a lifetime judging by
the bruising. He also had the feeling she wasn’t done telling him
what she expected, so he remained silent. He was right.

“I’m going back to school
next semester. I don’t need you coming and following me around me
the halls. I’m going to have enough attention on me as it is. As I
said, my father insists on this—protection,” she waved her hand
holding the sunglasses at him, “but that doesn’t mean I agree. The
only reason I’m going along is—” she swallowed and turned away from
him again to look out the window. She had to compose herself before
she continued. Her sister was dead and she’d heard them torture and
kill her.

“Anything else?” he asked,
unaffected by her emotional state.

She shook her head not
looking at him this time.

“Good. Now I’m going to
tell you how it is
going
to be, Miss Nickolov, I will not pretend to know
what you’ve gone through, because I really don’t, but I have a job
to do and despite your protests, you need to know that you are not
in charge here. You will do as I say, when I say, without
hesitation, so I can protect you.” He expected anger, but he was
wrong. She gave a slight nod followed by another hard swallow that
she tried to hide.

“You can’t blame me for
trying.” She turned her head toward him and moved her eyes up his
chest to his face, “My father expects me to listen to everything he
says. I always have—my whole life. Now I found out some terrible
things, and realize that everything in my life has been a lie. He
doesn’t own me or have any control over me as far as I’m concerned,
but after what happened last week, I now know that there’s a stigma
attached to my family with certain distasteful people. I do need
protection. I am, after all, practical.” Her eyes met his, “I also
expected for him to send the best to try and get me to forgive him.
He wouldn’t have sent anyone less experienced, including those
Neanderthals that work for him.”

Ryan never said
anything.

“Are you, Mr. Casey? The
best?”

“My father always said that
when you feel you are, there’s always someone out there better and
that’s what keeps you focused. I agree,” he answered
evenly.

After a moment she nodded.
“That is good advice.”

She seemed so solemn. Her
voice never changed one octave, not once since he’d picked her up.
She was either still in shock from her captivity, or just plain
defeated. “I always thought so.” There were days he really missed
his father. He was strict, but very attentive and the memories he
had were always good ones.

“It also gives me
insight.”

“How so?”

“That you never let your
guard down just in case there is someone better. I also get the
feeling that you don’t lose often.”

“I’ve lost my share of
school yard fights.”

Her eyes remained on his,
“You’re lying.”

She was right. How did she
know? Although he didn’t act surprised, she somehow knew he was. It
was the first time the corner of her mouth tilted a little to
indicate that she was pleased with her observation.

“You are not used to being
called on that.”

“No,” he said
honestly.

“Well when you’ve been the
daughter of a chronic liar, it’s easy to see sometimes. Besides,
your size tells me something different. Somehow I have a feeling
that you weren’t the object of school yard bullies.”

“I was a late
bloomer.”

Resisting another smile at
his jest, she shook her head, “You’re too self-confident to get me
to believe that. A man who has been picked on carries that with
them no matter how old they are. Besides, my father would have made
sure you didn’t have any hidden issues.” Her face pinched up in
anger and she turned away again.

“He seems concerned
enough.” Well, he didn’t think so but it felt like the right thing
to say.

“If he was, my sister would
still be alive.” She said without looking at him. The last two
words were choked out. She could hear Anna’s screams and resisted
covering her ears. It would do no good anyway. It was inside her
head.

Ryan couldn’t help but feel
for her even though he tried not to—he needed to stay focused on
his goal. She had been through an unspeakable horror. Despite what
people thought of him, or knew of him, he understood her pain more
than anyone.

“
The men that kidnapped me
said he was a drug dealer, a—a—” she swallowed again trying to
regain control of her emotions, “—pimp. When I didn’t believe them,
they showed me pictures.”

So she wasn’t always
blindfolded. She was vulnerable and let it slip. He suspected that
she knew things about her captors from the beginning, but he wasn’t
going to interrogate her. Besides, it wasn’t them he was
after—yet.

She met his gaze again and
her eyes were more moist. She wasn’t crying but the slight pinking
of the lids made him realize that she was straining not to. “I
can’t comment on that.”

“Of course not. You are a
professional, and you work for my father. You take orders from him,
not me. You are here to do a job.” She said icily. “I’ve had
security before. I know what it entails.” He was no different than
the rest of the men her father had working for him; like trained
dogs.

Not like me, you
haven’t
. “My concern is your protection,
not your father’s business. In fact, he never told me anything, but
your abduction was widely publicized, because he is an influential
business man.”

“A businessman who uses
that and his position as a council member to cover his illegal
operations. I’m sure you have some idea of what he does. You don’t
strike me as a stupid man.” She bit her lip and turned away. “Every
time I hear of someone overdosing on the news…I wonder…I wonder, if
it was my father’s drugs that did that to another human being. How
can someone live with themselves over that?”

“It doesn’t matter what he
does.” Ryan reiterated. Of
course
it mattered, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to
let on to anyone that it did.

“Wow, he must be paying you
a lot of money,” she said sarcastically. When he didn’t answer she
nodded, giving up on the subject. “Fine then, if you won’t let me
in on what you know about him, let’s talk about you.”

He shook his head while
looking down at her.

“I won’t feel secure unless
I know a bit about you.” She paused meeting his eyes, “I won’t
trust you. Or, are you just another brainless puppet that my father
hired to follow orders?” She knew he wasn’t, but she was angry and
was willing to compromise for a fight. He never took the bait. He
was too darn smart.

He stared at her for a
moment watching emotions play over her face. He expected her to
trust him, to listen to him if things got hairy. He was prepared
for revealing some of himself, but not enough to put his true
intentions on the stage and not so soon. “All right then. I’ll
answer a few questions.”

“How old are
you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“I thought you seemed a
little young for—“

“I’ve been in military
school since I was eleven.” He knew she was going to tip on his
experience. He also knew that her father already had all the
information he expected him to have, so repeating this wasn’t
anything new. “I enlisted at eighteen, special ops by twenty one.
The rest—is classified.”

“You’re a mercenary?” She
said it in a way that was far from complimentary.

Actually it was deeper than
that and he found that term distasteful. However, that’s the image
he was portraying. He just nodded, “Somewhat.”

Her eyes took on a
suspicious look. She knew he was more than just a mercenary and
maybe she shouldn’t have called him that. Maybe she was trying to
push his buttons. However, it didn’t faze him. Then again, for some
reason, she knew it wasn’t often something did with him. “My father
seems to have an affiliation for them, but you’re actually trained
by professionals. Most of the men my father hires are rebels from
the Chechnya province. They would kill anyone for a buck. He never
kept that a secret from us even though we thought it was because of
the protection he needed with his legitimate businesses, and they
were Russian, and his own countrymen so they were loyal.” Her eyes
went over him trying unsuccessfully to read his expression. She
should have known better, he was trained to keep it unreadable.
Yet, she was wondering how he felt about the mercenaries her father
hired. She had grown up around security like that, but it was
obvious this man was different. He seemed to have a certain class
about him that the others lacked. “How loyal are
you
Mr.
Casey?”

“Loyal enough,” He answered
easily, and honestly. “Loyal enough to protect you with my
life.”

“My father
mus
t be paying you a lot
of money for that statement of devotion. You don’t even know
me.”

“He is,” he stated
casually, “but I will earn it.”

“Have you protected people
before?”

“Many.”

“Any die?”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to
elaborate but he didn’t, “Was it your fault?”

“Even if it wasn’t, I take
the blame because I could have prevented the
circumstances.”

“Was it your fault?” she
repeated.

“As I said, so
yes.”

“That’s not what I asked,
Mr. Casey. This is important to me.”

He tilted his head.
“Why?”

“You want me to trust you.
I need to know why you are taking the blame for something that
wasn’t your fault.”

After a moment of thought,
he decided to answer her. “The man I was protecting was a European
diplomat. He had several mistresses on the side. He’d had numerous
death threats but insisted on seeing—a woman for sex, against my
instruction. It turned out, she was the assassin. Now you might
understand why I need you to listen to me.”

“Oh.” She pinked up
slightly. “Well, I have no worries in that department. I don’t have
secret rendezvous.”

Now that was surprising.
She was beautiful, young, sophisticated and it was obvious that men
would desire her. He’d seen photos of her before the abduction,
before the physical damage. She was, and still is, as far as he was
concerned, a credit to her sex. Hell, he only knew her for about an
hour and found himself attracted to her. It wasn’t as if he
couldn’t keep their relationship professional, he could. He would
just ignore the attraction. Yet, he also felt compassion for her.
She must’ve have went through some unthinkable things in captivity,
however, she still carried herself proudly. Even though she was
spoiled by her wealthy father, she was a proud person. He actually
admired that.

“We have something in
common Mr. Casey.”

“Oh?”

“Like you, my father sent
me off to boarding school when I was young. I was barely six.” Her
eyes went back to his, “I can relate.”

“That’s quite a
distance.”

“My mother wanted us close,
but he didn’t. Now I know why. He had secrets. He didn’t want us to
know. Even when she died, he didn’t bring us home for her funeral.”
Her eyes went to his again, “Does it bother you to work for a
criminal—a murderer?”