Eagle elite volume ii, p.57
Eagle Elite Volume II, page 57
“Truth, always comes out.” Phoenix towered over me. He was lithe, muscular, intimidating, and dark, so very dark. “One of the greatest lies you will ever believe is that you can sin in silence and get away with it. Because most of the time silence is the loudest, it demands to be known, to be heard.” He sighed and leaned down opening the first page of the folder.
I leaned over, my heart slamming against my chest.
It was a picture of me.
And beneath it was a name.
Maya De Lange.
It was me, but there was a different name. I knew my father wasn’t really my father, but… that would mean. I glanced up at Phoenix. “You’re my brother?”
He winced, as if the word held nothing but pain for him.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “I don’t…” My eyes felt blurry, my body heavy.
“Lay down.” He instructed in a soft voice. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”
“I have a terrifying brother,” I muttered as my mouth filled with cotton, a whooshing sound caused me to close my eyes.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he chuckled.
The last thing I registered before my body gave in to the darkness.
I blinked my eyes and winced as a man I’d only seen once had a flashlight pointed in my eyes. I pushed his arm away as tears filled my vision.
“Russians don’t cry.” He said it with a small smile and then tilted his head to the side. “Are you okay, Maya?”
“Yeah.” I pressed my hands to my temples as Sergio slowly helped me to a sitting position in the couch. “Where’s Phoenix?”
“Here.” Phoenix said from somewhere behind me, soon he appeared next to Sergio with coffee. “I added whiskey.”
I pressed my lips together in a smile. “Smart man.”
“My wife thinks so. That’s all that matters.” Phoenix’s voice was still gruff, he and Sergio shared a look.
“She’s fine.” Sergio stood. “Just a little… stressed.”
“No shit.” Phoenix muttered. “I still can’t believe you’re here, why are you here?”
“I felt left out.” Sergio shrugged. “And it’s time.”
Phoenix swallowed, looked away, then slapped Sergio on the arm just as the door to my apartment burst open revealing a bleeding Nikolai and Italians.
“Not on the couch!” Chase shouted. “It’s white!”
“Who the hell cares?” Tex fired back. “Dead is dead! Save the couch or save the Russian?”
They all paused, like actually paused as if they were contemplating keeping the white couch pristine.
“What!” I shrieked, as Nikolai nearly collapsed against the floor.
“Sorry.” Nixon grabbed Nikolai. “Old habits and all that.”
“Damn it, let me sit!” Nikolai yelled, his face was bloody, his mouth swollen.
I lunged for him, but Sergio grabbed my arm. “Let me patch him up first, stop the bleeding and give him something for the pain.”
“But—”
“Maya.” Sergio shook his head once. “He knows. Believe me. And out of all these schmucks I’m the only one who actually has any medical knowledge that won’t end up making Nikolai look like Frankenstein.”
“Ha ha.” Chase winked in my direction. “Tell me it wouldn’t be hilarious if we had to start calling him that?”
Nikolai muttered a string of curses then tried to lean against the counter as blood dripped from a wound on his arm.
“I can walk.” He grumbled half shoving half stumbling past the counter top and nearly falling into Sergio’s arms in a brave effort to avoid the white couch.
Our eyes locked.
I knew why he would avoid it.
Because the blood on white made him sick—it was his thing, we all had them, and it hit me, in that moment, that maybe he was just as traumatized over our joint past as I was.
“Here.” I quickly moved to his side and helped Sergio take him into the bedroom—my bedroom. It’s where he belonged, with me, on my bed. Once he was positioned over the bed, I grabbed one of the red Afghans from the chair and tossed it over the white duvet in an effort to make sure he didn’t see his own blood on the white—I didn’t want to add emotional stress to his already physically stressed state.
“Sergio.” Nikolai said his name like an angry curse. “Why the hell do I have six Italians in my home?”
“Seven.” Sergio said in a bored tone just as Phoenix walked into the room with a large boxy briefcase, handed it to him and walked out. “Technically there are seven of us. Eight if you count Maya.” He winked.
“Phoenix told you.” Nikolai’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry I was not here for you during that time.”
“That’s okay.” I sat next to him on the bed and held his bloody hand. “You were too busy getting beat up.”
“And by the looks of it.” Sergio tore the rest of Nikolai’s shirt with his hands. “Shot at.”
“What!” I shrieked, grasping Nik’s hand with more intensity than necessary.
“I’m fine,” he assured me. “It went clean through.”
“What the hell?” Sergio leaned down to examine the wound I guessed, then cursed again. “How did a simple bullet wound tear?”
“They beat the shit out of me and I tried to fight back. How else do you think it tore open?”
Sergio ignored him and placed the box on the floor, opened it, and pulled out a syringe.
My eyes widened, maybe too much because Sergio smirked in my direction. “Don’t worry I’m not killing him, just giving him a nice dose of morphine that should make him dream of unicorns and shit.”
“I don’t need morphine,” Nik grumbled as sweat started pouring down his temples.
I nodded to Sergio. “Give it to him.”
“Maya, I don’t need”—he hissed as Sergio jabbed a needle into the inside of Nik’s elbow—“I hate drugs.”
“Always good when a doctor that invented his own special drugs actually hates them. That way you won’t ever become an addict,” Sergio said helpfully. “Now, you were only shot once, but I’m thinking…” His hands moved to Nik’s chest and ran down. “Two broken ribs?”
Nik was silent and then, “One black eye, three broken ribs on my right side, possible internal bleeding, a pissed off kidney, and a giant gaping wound where I got shot. That’s it. See?” He tried to get up, but fell back onto the bed and wheezed out. “I’m fine.”
“Doctors are always the worst patients.” Sergio grabbed another needle and jabbed it into Nik’s neck, within seconds he was slumping back and then sleeping.
“What did you give him?” I asked in a panicked voice. I was surrounded by Italian Mafia, and as much as I wanted to trust them, because Nik did, because my sister had, I was still apprehensive. There were seven of them, seven huge terrifying men in my apartment. What if they decided we weren’t worth it? It’s not like I wasn’t aware of what Nikolai did now, or what my father had done to them, to Andi.
“Hey,” Sergio drew my attention back to him. “Why don’t you help me wash off the blood so I can see where he needs to stitch?”
“He?”
“I highly doubt a surgeon as talented as Nikolai is going to want someone who dropped out of his fourth year of med school sewing him up. Besides, I’m hoping it doesn’t look as bad once we get him cleaned up.”
I nodded my head and went to the bathroom to grab a warm wet cloth, then made my way back into the bedroom and started softly wiping away the blood on Nikolai’s side.
We worked in silence. I washed blood and Sergio did small sutures over a few cuts while simultaneously examining the bruising already forming across Nikolai’s body.
After a few minutes of companionable silence. Sergio spoke. “She would have loved you.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Do you think… it’s possible to miss someone you never really knew?”
Sergio’s hands froze. “Yes. I do. I think it’s possible to miss someone simply from hearing memories from other people, knowing what that person was like, seeing someone talk about them as their faces light up with pleasure or excitement almost like the person is still breathing—living.” He cleared his throat and started working again. “It’s okay to feel loss, even though you weren’t a part of her life.” His eyes met mine. “I know if the situation were reversed, she’d feel the same way about you. She’d mourn you—because blood is blood, Maya. And we’re all human… very breakable, most of us already broken, and she knew that better than anyone I’d ever met. She looked at the world like it deserves to be looked at.”
“How?”
“With respect… with beauty.”
A single tear ran down my face. I tried to wipe it away but Sergio grabbed my hand. “It’s harder for those left behind then it is for those who leave. Just know… she laughed a lot, and drove me insane.”
I licked my dry lips, a smile forming across them. “This world needs more laughter.”
“It really does.” He agreed as we both stared at Nikolai. “And he’s going to need you…”
“He has me.”
“Does he?” Sergio’s eyes narrowed. “He’s a killer.”
“So are you.”
“The very hands he uses to give life—he takes. You’ll have to turn a blind eye… because it will always be in his blood.”
“What will?”
Sergio shrugged. “Once you are in this life, you don’t walk away, even when you want to. It follows you, tempts you, beckons you, promises you the world. He will always be mafia. So, I’d leave now if it’s too much. I can make you disappear, and because of Andi, I’m going to give you that option.” He stood. “You’d be in Canada by midnight, or Mexico if that’s your preference, a house by the ocean, a new identity, passport, a new life, just say the word.”
“But Nikolai—”
“He stays. This offer is for you. Not for him.”
Panicked, I stared at Nikolai and stood, it was what he’d wanted for me, for us, to disappear, for me to be safe, but I didn’t want safe if it meant I was away from him.
“My father, he will keep coming after Nik? After me?”
Sergio didn’t answer.
“What would Andi do?”
Again no answer, he simply stared, his crystal blue eyes blazing holes through me.
I swallowed, straightening my shoulders and whispered, “If he stays. I stay.”
“Thank God.” Nikolai said in a hoarse voice. “And Sergio, leave before I kick your ass.”
“Hah,” Sergio pulled out a needle and thread. “In your position you’re more likely to fall on your ass and look stupid in front of the girl you love.” He handed the needle to Nikolai. “I’ll let you do the honors.”
“Thanks.” He grumbled, “And Sergio?”
Sergio turned.
“Stab me with a needle again and I’m ripping out your throat while you’re awake.”
“Huh.” Sergio nodded approvingly. “Propranolol, didn’t know you were a fan.”
“Out.” Nikolai made a weird growling noise.
Sergio shut the door and yelled back. “You’re welcome!”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
We do not care what we have, but we cry when it is lost. –Russian Proverb
Nikolai
I could at least be thankful that Sergio hadn’t used a full dose to knock me out, only enough to make the last ten minutes seem fuzzy. It had just felt better to close my eyes and relax back against the mattress as the drugs filtered through my system, the morphine, burned along my veins. I’d always had a terrible reaction to any opiates. They typically made me sick, which was a blessing, considering I had easy access to them at all times and thought myself a chemist when it came to making my JR serum.
I wasn’t shocked he had offered her sanctuary.
What shocked me was that she declined his offer and stayed.
A smart woman would run far away, take the second chance at a fresh start and never look behind her.
There was literally nothing but horror in her past, and I couldn’t imagine the future would be roses and fairy tales either, not if she stayed with me. There would never be a time in her life that she wouldn’t be reminded of her past, of our past, and I had to wonder if it would continually impact our present, filtering into our future.
With a sigh, I sat up as much as I could. “Maya, would you please grab a hand mirror from the bathroom?”
Frowning, she gave a simple nod went to the bathroom then returned with the mirror.
“Excellent. Can you please point it at my side, angle it down, a little farther?” Her hands were shaking. I didn’t blame her. I was a mess. “Thank you.”
We didn’t speak while I nimbly and quickly sewed up my wound in perfect sutures that would leave a slight white mark as if I’d been scratched.
Maya swayed on her feet.
“Maya?” I reached for her with my free hand, I just needed to cut the thread. “Are you going to pass out?”
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and bit, causing my body, even numb with drugs, to tighten, to flush with lust.
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s just really… hot.”
“What is?” I glanced down at my bare stomach. Surely she wasn’t referring to me being shirtless? She’d seen me naked. I highly doubted my bruised body was doing it.
“That.” She pointed to the hand still holding the needle. “You just stitched yourself up, perfectly, better than, well I don’t even know, but it’s just… sorry, is that inappropriate?”
“Very.” I nodded seriously. “Let’s be professional, Maya.” My lips twitched in a barely contained smile.
“Right.” She agreed crossing her arms. “Will that be all, Doctor?”
I let out a suppressed groan. “Hurry and cut this damn thread so I can kiss you.”
“I didn’t know Russians kissed Italians without protection.” She ran her hands down her body, damn I would do just about anything for a taste, better than any drug.
“Very funny.” I nodded toward the scissors. “Now, but before I accidently poke you.”
“Hah.” She wagged her finger in my face. “You mean like last night?”
I rolled my eyes and lay back against the mattress. “Go ahead, finish me off, kill me. I’ll wait.”
She gently crawled over me, careful not to put any weight on my body as she reached for the scissors and cut the thread. I grabbed her hand the minute it was free, bringing her fingertips to my lips, she tasted like home.
“How are you?” I wasn’t that man, the one who asked emotional questions. I’d never cared, not until her.
Maya licked her lips, studying my mouth for a few seconds before answering. “I’m hanging in there.”
“Well at least you haven’t run away screaming yet.”
“That would get me killed.”
“Your father may be too busy to kill you right now… or at least too busy to threaten us, and when he does… I don’t think we’ll have problems finding people willing to fight for us. Apparently, the Italians have been bored this last week, imagine that?”
Maya shuddered. “Bored means they haven’t gotten to shoot something in a while? And seven days is a long time? Wow talk about self-control. Should we give them a medal? Or at least gift them some wine?”
I burst out laughing, shocking myself at the fact I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’d gotten the shit beat out of me, one of my darkest secrets was about to get revealed to Maya, and I could laugh.
Because I loved her.
And when you have love—everything else seems to just fade into the background, the noise of your own heart beating, smothering out the screams of the past.
“Italians,” I whispered tucking a piece of hair behind her ear with my good hand, “do love their wine.”
She leaned down brushing her lips against mine. “And I love you.”
My body hummed with pleasure and sang with completeness at her proximity. “You can say that… after everything? Even after the fear of tonight? After finding out your parentage?”
“You had nothing to do with my mom cheating and sleeping with Petrov’s right hand man—absolutely nothing.”
“No.” I swallowed the lump of guilt. “But I knew. He was an outsider, trying to escape the pressure of his own crime family, and the sense of embarrassment he felt at being the poorest, most disrespected. I knew the information because of my father.”
“Apparently everyone knew.” Maya sighed. “In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter?”
“I don’t know, does it?”
“Not really. No. If anything it just makes me thankful that I’m not blood related to a Russian gangster.” I opened my mouth to speak but she pressed two fingers against it and whispered. “But I am in love with one.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or just having her close but my body felt warm the minute she said that. Still, she had to understand. “I won’t ever be free of it.”
Maya turned her head, giving me a view of her gorgeous long neck. I wanted to trail kisses from neck to navel, and then lower, drink her nectar until I was drunk on her. Her hand gently caressed the sickle tattoo. “I don’t think either of us will ever be free of our pasts, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a future, right?”
My body went rigid. There was one more thing, one more secret I’d kept close to me, a secret my family had kept even closer. It wasn’t just something I could tell her, I’d have to show her the diary, explain to her the reasons, but worst of all. I’d have to make sure I talked with Jac first.
She was the loose cannon in all this, the very last part of my life that could unravel and destroy everything I held dear.
With a few simple words, strung together in one powerful sentence, my entire career would be over—my life, Maya’s life, my reputation.
I shuddered.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” I answered quickly, maybe too quickly if Maya’s frown was any indication. “I’m just thinking.”
