Retribution (15 page)

Ivan paid for the items at
each boutique they stopped in with a credit card. Ryan was
collecting the bags when Ivan finally said something.

“You can’t have her,” he
mumbled while signing the bill.

Ryan never said anything as
he considered the older man. His expression remained passive and he
stayed silent until Ivan finally lifted his head to meet his eyes
due to the lack of response. Once Ryan let him see the coolness in
his own eyes he answered him. “Neither can you.” He turned with an
armload of packages and walked toward the women. He didn’t need to
be told who ‘her’ was. Kat looked incredible today, especially when
she was really really pissed off. Oh, he knew she was. You’d have
to be blind not to. She was shooting daggers at all three of them
for the last two hours. He knew he’d get the wrath later for the
attention Porsha was showering him with, but he rather liked her
angry. She was as sexy as hell.

Katya tried things on, but
refused to buy anything. She would not let her father pay for
anything for her anymore. She had a small inheritance from her
mother that she got when she turned twenty-one, and that’s what she
used to pay for her final year at university.

When she finally received
her degree, she would disappear. She wanted as far away from him
and his organization as possible.

Porsha chatted nonstop
while they waited by the doors of the boutique. Katya was tired and
hungry and her ears were ringing from Porsha’s constant yapping.
She tried blocking her out by looking somewhere else in the shop.
She saw the men exchange words, but couldn’t hear them over
Porsha’s nattering in her ear. Finally, she’d had it and held up
her hand cutting her off. “Porsha, I know you get lonely being in
that big house by yourself, and my father has this incredible habit
of ignoring women under the same roof as him, but Mr. Casey
is
not
your
plaything.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now, I don’t
mind being your friend, because I know what my father is like, but
keep your hands to yourself. Got it?”

Porsha’s mouth fell
open.

“Keep them off Ryan. You’ve
been petting him like a homeless puppy for the last hour.” Porsha
was actually speechless, and from the blush entering her cheeks,
embarrassed. Katya almost smiled. It was the first quiet she got
since they started out that morning.

“Kat! Get down!”

She turned toward Ryan at
the sound of his sharp voice. He dropped all of the parcels and
lunged at her, just as the familiar sounds of gunshots rang
out.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Glass exploded around them
as he slammed her to the floor. She yelped in pain. He was heavy.
The salesladies were screaming and trying to get out of the way of
the spray of glass and bullets.

“Stay down!” he breathed in
Kat’s ear. He drew his gun and rolled to his knees to see above the
sill of the broken window. She tried to get up and he shoved her
back down roughly. She whimpered in pain. There were shards of
glass poking her through her clothing. “I said stay down!
Ivan?”

“Behind you.”

Ryan nodded but didn’t turn
around. He scanned the street as people were still running around.
They didn’t know what from, but gunshots in a rich shopping
district can cause panic any day. He’d seen the familiar black
sedan cruising slowly by, and then the window rolled down. He knew
what would follow. Thankfully he reacted in time. Right now she was
covered in broken glass, but she was alive.

He could hear her panicked
breaths beside him, but she listened and stayed still.

“Clear,” he finally said
and went to her. The sedan was gone. “Are you hit?” He gripped her
shoulders and helped her sit up. She had some superficial cuts on
her face and down her arms and legs from the broken glass, but she
was unharmed. His fingers brushed aside her hair and he cupped her
chin, turning her head from side to side to examine her injuries.
Then he tilted her head up so she’d look at him.
“Katya?”

“No they missed,” she
finally answered in a shaky whisper.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’ll be fine.” Her voice
shook.

He stared at her a moment
to make sure she was telling the truth. Her arms folded across her
middle and she was trembling. She was scared, but she was going to
be okay. “Is anyone hit?” he asked without taking his eyes off of
hers.

“Casey.” It was Ivan’s
voice.

He turned and saw Porsha.
Eyes open and staring blankly off in the distance. Dead. A gunshot
hole in her chest.

Katya screamed.

CHAPTER FOUR

William sat behind his desk
chewing on the end of a pencil while he regarded the unreadable
mystery man across from him. “I told you not to bring this across
my desk.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yet, you’re still here.”
William thumbed through the stack of permits that Ryan handed him
to verify his sidearms.

Ryan took that time to look
across the room at Katya. She was seated on a bench against the
wall. She was given a cup of coffee from a female detective while
she waited for him. There was a cut on her forehead and exposed
skin had a few nicks from the glass that fell on her, but they
would heal without scarring. Ivan was pacing and talking on the
phone about ten feet away from her. He was obviously breaking the
news to his boss. He was sure that wasn’t going well. He tried to
comfort Katya, but again she slapped his hand. Yes, she’ll be
fine.

“
Yeah, well, that couldn’t
be prevented,” he finally responded.

Bill sighed deeply, opened
a drawer and pulled out Ryan’s firearms, all three of them. Then he
tossed the permit papers on the desk next to them. “I’ve never seen
permits like these, because they don’t exist, and you check out,
witnesses and all. They think you’re a hero protecting that young
girl.”

“The permits are
legitimate.”

“I know they are. Even if
they weren’t I’m sure you could have them signed by the President
of the United States within an hour or the suit, meaning your boss,
will return and claim my wife was with you last night, and she
verifies it.”

“You’re learning.” Ryan
reached for his guns and permits suppressing a smile.

“Did you get a look at
them?”

He shook his head and
holstered his guns, including the one on his leg.

He tossed a thumb over his
shoulder where Ivan was pacing. “That guy you’re with has a rap
sheet a mile long; drugs, assault, suspected murder, rape, and
running prostitutes.”

“Never saw him before in my
life. He was with the woman that got shot. We don’t know them.”
Ryan wasn’t giving any information out that could cause any further
delay in getting Katya home. Ivan was playing along and acted as if
he didn’t know either of them. They had a quick discussion before
the cops and ambulance showed up. Ivan told the authorities that
Porsha was his girlfriend to keep Peter out of the
paperwork.

He didn’t believe him but
knew questioning him would get him nowhere. His eyes went to Katya
Nickolov. “Does she have something to do with your brother’s
death?”

“No, she’s innocent in all
of this.” He may have said that a little too quickly. William
didn’t notice.

William smiled. “Councilman
Nickolov’s daughter? I’m not stupid Mr. Casey. Did you want to let
me in on what this was about? I might be able to help.”

“I will if things get
tough.”

“This isn’t tough?” A woman
was dead, and one of Miami’s posh shopping districts was shot up
for the first time ever. The boutique’s employees were so
traumatized that they didn’t see anything but Ryan saving Katya
Nickolov’s life.

He pressed his mouth into a
smile.

“Jesus, what the hell are
you?”

“I’m taking her home now.
I’ll let you know if I need you. Thanks for the offer.” Ryan stood
up and walked over to Katya. Ivan was nowhere to be seen
now.

“I killed her.” She stared
up at him through watery, red-rimmed eyes.

“No. you didn’t.” he leaned
down and took her hand helping her to stand.

“I yelled at her and told
her to leave you alone. It was the last thing I said to
her.”

“Quit blaming yourself
Katya. It could have been you lying there.”

That statement sent a wash
of terror through her.

Ryan put an arm around her
and led her out of the station. Jose was waiting with the car. He
opened the door for the couple and the concern for Katya was
evident in his expression. Ivan was still nowhere in sight. He
didn’t give a shit if the man walked off a cliff. He needed to get
Katya home. Ivan had given his statement before Ryan did, and
surprisingly wasn’t carrying so they let him go as a
witness.

Once inside the car, he
pulled her next to him. She was beating herself up, but none of it
was her fault. It was his. He should have been more on guard.
However, his job wasn’t to save Porsha, but Katya, and he did that.
Porsha was actually closer, but he would have wasted time getting
to Katya. She may have said some harsh things, but that didn’t
matter to the dead. Now he knew these guys were serious at coming
back to finish what they started.

Ivan met them at the door
when they arrived back at the estate. Apparently he’d made it home
somehow. “Boss wants to see you.”

“He can wait,” Ryan said as
he walked by him toward the stairs. He had Katya’s hand and was
going to make sure she was settled before he spoke to
Peter.

“Is that what you want me
to tell him?”

“Tell him whatever the fuck
you like.” He pulled Katya upstairs ignoring Ivan’s angry glare and
her look of shock.

“I don’t think that was
wise,” she said once they were out of hearing distance. She didn’t
miss Ivan’s deadly stare and she had an idea that having him as an
enemy could make Ryan’s stay here risky.

“Ivan is no threat to me
Katya.” He opened the door to his room and pulled her inside,
locking it behind them.

Somehow she didn’t believe
that. Ivan already had it out for him. He’d be glowering at her
bodyguard for days now. She knew that Ivan blamed Ryan for her
sudden dislike of him, but it wasn’t Ryan. It was when she found
out what he did for her father. She supposed he needed someone to
blame, after all, Ryan’s arrival coincided with her
despite.

Ryan released her to leave
and she suddenly realized she’d be alone. She grabbed his arm.
“Don’t leave,” she pleaded. She knew it sounded weak, but she hated
this house, and after what had happened, didn’t want to be isolated
in this room by herself.

He stared down at her for a
moment. Then he nodded and walked by her into the bathroom. He sat
on the edge of her tub and ran the water. She followed him and
stood there with a questioning expression.

He was running his hand
through the water testing the temperature. “Have a bath Katya. When
you’re done, you’ll feel better and I’ll be back by the time you’re
done. I’ll have someone stand outside the door.”

“Not Ivan.”

He checked the water again
suppressing a smile. “No, not Ivan.” Satisfied with the
temperature, he stood and cupped her shoulders. Then he tilted her
chin up to make her look at him. “I’ll be a few minutes. Your
father will want a thorough report. I’m only downstairs. You know
where to find me. Remember that when you feel anxious.”

She nodded trying to be
brave. “I understand.”

He left and she stood there
for a minute staring at the water. Then she shut the door, locked
it, and slowly undressed to get in the tub. He was right, it made
her feel better. Her cuts burned in the water, but then eased. It
was a good idea after all.

Ryan could hear Peter
yelling before he even got near the room. He told one of the men
milling around outside Peter’s office to go stand outside Katya’s
door until he returned, but not to go in. He left
quickly.

The other man opened the
door as Peter was still yelling and waving his hands at Ivan. Ivan
actually looked a little flushed.

The flat screen television
was on and the news was showing the boutique riddled with bullets.
The media obviously didn’t know why or who was the target yet, and
the police weren’t talking. It was a relief for Ryan because he
didn’t need the added media attention while he was there, but it
was only a matter of time.

“Well, it’s about damn
time!” Peter spun about waving an arm in his direction. “Are you
too good to take orders?”

“I had to get her settled.
My job is to protect her first and foremost. She’s in
shock.”

“And who’s fucking fault is
that?” Peter accused.

“She’s alive.”

“Oh, yes and Porsha is
dead.”

“Porsha wasn’t my
charge.”

“You arrogant prick!” Peter
yelled spraying spittle and slamming his fist on his
desk.