Sweetest Surrender (18 page)

She breathed a sigh of relief to discover the women’s restroom was empty. After she was done, she washed her hands and stepped out into the small hallway—only to have the barrel of a gun shoved into her stomach.

The background noise from the bar faded away as panic slammed into her, the icy tendrils of fear sliding over her skin. Stunned, she looked up into the angry eyes of Emile’s father as he shoved her against the wall, his gun never wavering. Fighting nausea and confusion she stared at him. This couldn’t be happening.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice sounding a lot stronger than she felt. She was a quivering mass of nerves, her legs threatening to turn to jelly as he shoved the gun tighter into her stomach. She instinctively sucked her stomach in, her flesh cringing away from the weapon.

His dark eyes looked glassy and she could smell whiskey on his breath. The few times she’d talked to the older lawyer, he’d been drunk. She’d guessed he was an alcoholic, but didn’t really care right now. All she cared about was getting away from this maniac. The fear burning inside her easily negated the awful scent.

“I had to kill my son because of you, you stupid bitch.” Shock reverberated through her. She couldn’t believe what he’d just said. His words were slightly slurred as he grabbed onto her upper arm with a force that made her cry out. His fingers dug into her flesh, his nails biting into her bare skin. “Don’t make a fucking sound,” he commanded as he dragged her down the hall toward a door with an EXIT sign above it.

She dug her heels in, her fear of being taken outside worse than her fear of the gun. She’d rather get shot in this bar than be taken only God knew where with this clearly deranged man. For all she knew he planned to do more than kill her. “You killed Emile?” she asked as he tried to drag her down the rest of the hallway. She was shaking all over, struggling to contain the terror spreading inside her.

“I had to, he shamed our family one too many times. He was such a soft boy, always letting women take advantage of him. If he’d just let you go I could have ignored his last transgression. But he’s been looking for you for two fucking years. Thought I didn’t know about it. That investigator told me everything I needed to know and if you weren’t such a whore it would have been impossible to find you. Luckily your boyfriend led me right to you tonight.” He dug his fingers in again and shoved her along the hallway wall.

She stumbled and almost fell but he grabbed her upper arm again in a painful hold and dragged her to her feet, not caring that he was almost ripping her arm from its socket. She howled in pain, unable to stop her cry.

“It’s your fault he’s dead,” he growled, starting to drag her backward to the exit door.

Angel tried to grab onto the wall but there was no traction. She opened her mouth to scream, but the man—Quinton Glass, she remembered his name—he yanked her back against his stomach. That was when she saw Vadim and Mr. Christiansen standing at the other end of the hallway.

There wasn’t much distance between her and them, maybe fifteen feet. But it felt like the Grand freaking Canyon separated them. Her heart pounded a staccato beat against her chest even as her lungs seemed to shrink. It was impossible to drag in a full breath as she stared at Vadim. His expression was dark, deadlier than she’d ever seen as his eyes promised death for Quinton. His hands were at his side, but his right hand was slightly pulled back, hidden by his body with his defensive stance. She couldn’t see it, but she’d bet everything she had that he was holding a gun.

His pale eyes weren’t on her, they were daggers of ice pinned on the man behind her. Angel had no doubt that given the chance he’d kill the man holding her in a heartbeat. Quinton was saying something, his breath hot against her face as he pulled her tighter to him. He was so angry, his shouting not making any sense, his entire body vibrating with rage. That was when she realized the gun wasn’t digging into her. He was holding her close, his meaty arms crossed over her chest as he kept her in place. He was holding the weapon in one of his hands, and with the way he was securing her arms, the gun was pointed at the wall as he continued to rage nonsensical words.

Roman’s training moves clicked into place and she knew she’d only get one chance to do this right. If she didn’t, she was dead for sure, but this bastard could also hurt Vadim. Something she refused to let happen.

She could hear Roman’s frustrated voice in her head.
Shove your elbows out hard, loosening your attacker’s grip. At the same time let your legs go lax, your body becoming a dead weight. It will take them off guard long enough for you to duck out of their embrace.
From there he’d given her different options of how to either attack or attack then flee. She wasn’t going to do either of those right now.

No, she was just going to fall to the floor and get out of the line of fire she knew was coming. Without thinking about it a second longer, she grunted, shoving her elbows out to the side.

Quinton stumbled behind her, clearly taken off guard as she dropped to the floor like a stone.

Before her palms had hit the ground two loud booms echoed through the small hallway. She screamed, covering her head as she waited for the ripping pain. When nothing happened she started to get up, but found herself being hauled to her feet by two strong hands instead.

For a moment the instinct to fight kicked in until she saw Vadim’s face. His expression was terrified as he dragged her away a few feet. He ran his hands over her face, then her arms and hips.

“You’re okay?” he rasped out, his voice shaking as she nodded.

“I’m good.” Unable to stop the tremble snaking through her, she glanced over her shoulder.

Wyatt was crouched down next to Quinton’s body. He looked up at both of them, his expression grim as he shook his head. So Quinton was dead. Angel didn’t know what to feel other than confusion and relief that none of them had been injured. She turned back to Vadim and clutched at his waist, needing support. “He killed his son. He told me that it was my fault he’d done it. He didn’t say the words, but he was obviously going to kill me.”

Vadim pulled her close as Wyatt came to stand next to them. That was when she heard the panicked voices of the patrons from the bar and grill area. It was as if her surroundings suddenly rushed back all at once. Iris appeared in the entry at the end of the hallway with a weapon in her hand. Hayden and Jay were right behind her. They all put their weapons away at once when they took in the scene.

To Angel’s surprise, Wyatt waved everyone back before focusing on her and Vadim. “The cops will be here soon. Just tell the truth about what happened here, but don’t give them any more information than they ask. And whatever you do, don’t say a word about using a fake social. They don’t need to know any of that. It’s not their damn concern. I’m putting in a call to one of my attorneys now. They’re going to separate the three of us for individual questioning. Angel, do
not
answer any questions without my attorney present. He is your official representation.” His low voice held a commanding edge to it.

Blinking in surprise, Angel looked at Vadim then back at the billionaire she’d never said more than two sentences to. “Why?”

“Because you’re part of the Serafina family and because you’re with Vadim.”

At that she promptly burst into tears. She didn’t care how weak she appeared, she couldn’t seem to hold the tears at bay as she buried her face against Vadim’s chest. It was strange to have people actually give a shit about her after so long. She’d felt so alone for so many years that all this support was beyond overwhelming.

Vadim stroked a gentle hand down her back, murmuring nonsensical words, the sweet tone of his voice and the feel of his arms around her taking away most of her frayed nerves. By the time the cops showed up her tears had dried, but she had a new set of fears. What if Vadim went to jail for the shooting? What if he got in trouble because of all her baggage? It was self-defense so she wasn’t sure why that would happen, but the fear lodged its talons deep inside her, refusing to let go. If he was taken from her now, then she would lose everything that mattered.

Chapter 17

“She’s going to be fine,” Wyatt murmured, casually sitting in one of the chairs next to Cody Hurley’s desk.

Instead of making them wait in the lobby, the detective had told them to sit tight in the bullpen of Vegas PD. Vadim stood instead of sitting, his arms crossed over his chest as tension hummed through him with the intensity of a thousand buzzing bees. He couldn’t stand still, much less think straight. He and Wyatt had both finished with their questioning and filled out their reports before being let go. Angel was still in with Wyatt’s lawyer and Hurley. While Vadim was glad the detective was the one talking to her, since he was a good man, every second that passed made him itch to storm in there and find out what was going on. “Easy for you to say. That’s not your wife in there,” Vadim snapped.

To his surprise and annoyance, Wyatt grinned. “You really like this girl.”

“I fucking love her.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He hadn’t told her, but it was true. No sense denying it even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Angel was his.

Wyatt straightened from his casual position, his dark eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

Jaw tight, Vadim nodded.

His friend didn’t say anything, just leaned back again in his chair. Vadim turned away from him, ready to start pacing when he spotted Angel walking out with Wyatt’s high-priced attorney standing between her and Hurley. The older man with sprinkles of gray peppered throughout his otherwise dark hair was speaking in clipped tones, but Vadim ignored the men. All his focus was on Angel.

Her dark expression lifted when she saw him. She hurried from the others, sidestepping two uniformed officers as she made her way to him. “Everything’s okay,” she whispered as she hugged him tight.

“Thank God,” he murmured as he returned her embrace.

As the other two men reached the desk, Wyatt stood and let himself be pulled aside by his attorney. Hurley nodded once at Vadim. “Can I talk to you for a sec before you go?”

Even though he didn’t want to let Angel go, Vadim nodded and stepped away. “Will you wait with Wyatt?”

She nodded, giving him a small smile that eased all his worry about her. Everything was going to be fine. Once she was out of hearing range, Hurley leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Vadim knew the guy had played football in college and guessed he used his size to intimidate suspects. He better not have tried that crap with Angel.

“What?” Vadim asked more harshly than he’d meant to sound, but he didn’t want to stick around here. He just wanted to be home alone with Angel. They’d been at the station for hours.

Hurley raised a dark eyebrow. “Your girl isn’t under suspicion of anything. While we were questioning you three, our team ran the ballistics on Quinton Glass’s weapon. It’s the same that killed Emile.”

Vadim nodded; Angel had told him what Emile’s father had said.

“Everything is pretty clear cut with both cases and we get to close one murder investigation, but don’t think I buy that you called me about Emile because he vandalized your fucking car. Why didn’t you just tell me he was stalking your girl?”

Vadim shrugged. “I didn’t need your help.”

The detective gritted his teeth before he pushed up from the desk. “Cops aren’t the enemy, dumbass.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Yeah, I know. You guys have your uses.”

Hurley rolled his eyes, but his defensive stance relaxed. “Whatever. I’m just glad that fucker is off the streets one way or another. I put in a call to Angel’s hometown and it turns out she’s not the first woman he stalked. She’s just the first he harassed who actually filed charges. According to the sheriff, all the other women dropped the charges, likely because they’d been paid off or were too scared.”

Vadim nodded. He’d figured Angel hadn’t been the first, but when Emile had been killed he hadn’t looked any further into him. Now he wished he had. Maybe he’d have discovered that the guy’s dad was a fucking psycho too. At least Angel was safe now. That was all that mattered. “Thanks for handling Angel. If you need anything from either of us, just call me.”

“Will do.”

Vadim went in search of Angel—he just wanted to get her home where she’d be safe. It was almost three in the morning and he knew she had to be exhausted. He planned to take care of her if she’d let him. She’d been through enough and deserved a damn break.

* * *

Vadim placed his hand on Angel’s shoulder, lightly trying to rouse her.

Her eyes opened and she jerked once, as if startled. She blinked, staring at him in confusion. The soft dome light from the interior of his car highlighted her exhausted, beautiful face. “Did I fall asleep?”

He nodded. She’d passed out from almost the moment she’d slid into the passenger seat of his car. “Yeah.”

She shook her head, as if clearing her mind. “Can’t believe I did. I was so wired.”

He stepped back from the passenger door, letting her get out on her own, guessing that she’d want some control right now. “A lot happened, it’s your body’s way of decompressing.” Sleep was a fucking cure-all sometimes.

She met his gaze as she stepped out, her expression serious. “I never got a chance to thank you, but thank you for saving me.”