The Devil's Beauty (Crime Lord Interconnected Standalone Book 2) (29 page)

“Fuck!” he gasped. “Those
putas
… shot me!”

Dimitri started to go to him, but Hector waved him off.

“Go!” He shoved the gun into Dimitri’s hand. Then dug into his pockets and pulled out a set of keys. “Backstairs, second door behind the stairs. Drive to
Fajardo Ferry Terminal
. My man, Brock, will meet you there. Tell him I send you. He’ll get you the rest of the way.”

Dimitri took the keys. “Come with us. We can—”

Hector shook his head. “It’ll take too long.” He dug behind him and freed a Glock from the back of his waistband. “I have a score to settle anyway. I was very fond of Evita. Plus,” he offered them a lopsided grin, “this was my favorite shirt.”

Not arguing, Dimitri grabbed Ava’s hand. 

“Backstairs,” Hector said again. “I’ll head them off.”

“Thank you,” Ava said.

Hector paused. He nodded. Then, without a word, threw open the door and ran out. Dimitri waited for the first crack of gunfire before sprinting right with Ava in tow. Their feet pounding on the worn carpet, his heavy, hers barely audible as they raced in the direction of the backstairs. He’d found the thing by accident when he’d taken a wrong turn heading down for breakfast. He led Ava down a steep set of stairs to the main floor. From there, it was just a matter of making it to the kitchen and the door leading into the main garage.

There were three, from what Hector had mentioned in passing. But the main one was used for everyday traveling.

“The others are for playing,”
he’d said.

It was the oddest thing to remember when their lives were on the line, but Dimitri was grateful for it as he fumbled for the remote on the keyring.

The sleek, gray BMW sat hunched in the single car box, half hidden behind a shroud of darkness too thick to penetrate. Interior lights flickered on with a push of a button and he nudged Ava forward.

“Get in.”

Ava climbed into the passenger’s side seat as Dimitri threw himself behind the wheel. He hit the door opener clipped to the visor and waited with growing unease as the rumble seemed to shake the entire estate. The slow progression ticked at his nerves.

He glanced into the rearview mirror at the empty doorway leading back into the house, then back at the gap barely high enough for a toddler to pass.

“Come on!” he snarled at the droning gears.

“Wait.”

Before he could grab her, Ava had thrown herself out of the car.

“Ava!”

She was a streak of pink, tearing to the door. He started to climb out after her, had a hand on the handle when she slammed the door closed and snapped the lock into place. She ran back and dove into her seat.

“What the fuck?” he snapped at her.

“I’m not going back!” she shot, slamming her door closed and snapping herself in.

He had no idea what one thing had to do with the other, but the garage door was now high enough for them to pass through.

A muffled ping ricocheted off the hood. Ava cried out, but Dimitri had already seen the figure crouched behind the bushes.

“Put your head down!”

He didn’t wait for Ava to follow orders. He floored the gas pedal and flew down the driveway with the force of an unscrewed cork erupting from the neck of a bottle. Bullets pinged off the metal and reflected off the windows. He suspected the car was bulletproof when there was barely a dent. Other figures spilled out of the house, guns blazing. Their steady cracks splintered the early morning hour. He counted six, all wearing balaclavas and armed to the teeth. They moved with precision and the sort of joined unity of those who had fought together for years. He guessed ex-military.

They hit the end of the driveway. He twisted the wheel and shot in the direction of the city. Behind them, a dark van swerved into view. The window of the passenger’s side rolled down and a figure poked an arm out. A gun fired. The bullet hit the back end of the BMW.

“Keep down!” was all the warning he gave when wrenching the wheel hard left and spinning them down a one way going in the opposite direction. The streets were deserted, the hour was past the time for partying, even in a city that knew very little sleep.

He shoved right almost immediately after and bumped into an alleyway.

“How do you know this isn’t a dead end?” Ava asked, just a hint of hysteria in her voice, but very well hidden.

He didn’t. These weren’t his streets. It wasn’t even his country.

“Just stay down.”

The van appeared in his mirror, a rumble ghost gaining speed. He saw an opening ahead. He took it with a tap on the gas.

They hit a wider street with a barely controllable speed. Pure reflexes had him twisting the wheel and barely missing the parked car.

Another bullet hit the back window, sounding like a large pebble.

“Give me the gun.”

He wasn’t sure he heard right. “What?”

“The gun!” She didn’t wait for him. She reached for the weapon he’d dropped into his lap.

“Christ, careful! What are you doing?”

But she had already rolled down her window.

“Ava!”

He would have grabbed her, yanked her back into her seat when she started to force her torso out, but they had reached the heart of the city and the last stragglers leaving bars and clubs were still wandering the sidewalks and it was taking all his concentration not to hit one of them.

“Get back in the fucking car!” he roared.

“Drive!” was her response.

She fired, once, twice. He watched the bullets spark off the hood and the front grill of the van. She fired again just when he had to swerve around a drunken couple attempting to cross the middle of the street. They scrambled back onto the curb, but Ava’s aim had gone wide and created a spider web across the windshield, just face level with the driver.

“Fuck!” he heard her snap. “Hold the car steady!”

He was about to ask if she had wanted him to hit those people, but she was firing again, releasing a spray of bullets with an accuracy that was almost frightening. Each one hit the side mirrors, burst across the windshield, making the van swerve and clip a parked car. The driver tried to right the wheel, but Ava took out their front, driver’s side tire and they weren’t going anywhere.

“Christ,” Dimitri breathed, watching the whole thing through the rearview mirror. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

Ava ducked back into the car and dropped the smoking gun into the cup holder. She exhaled, then looked at him with a small grin.

“I had a good teacher.”

He hoped to God she didn’t mean him, because that had been nearly eleven years ago. She’d been sixteen and he’d taken her to shoot empty cans off a log in the middle of nowhere and she’d been absolute shit at it.

“John Paul,” she said, snapping back into her belt. “He thought I would need to know how to protect myself if I needed to.”

Dimitri glanced at the dark, empty road behind them. “Remind me to send him a fruit basket.”

The schedule on the door of the
Fajardo Ferry Terminal
announced that they were hours too early. There was nothing sooner than seven. The terminal sat dark and lonely in the enormous parking lot. The absence of other life sent a chill through Ava that she concealed behind the tightening of her jaw.

“Are we in the wrong place?” Ava wondered, mostly to herself.

“No.” Dimitri pointed. “There.”

She followed the line of his gaze to the far end of the parking lot where the pools of light from the lamps didn’t quite reach. The sinister sway of shadows concealed the figure lurching towards them with long, even strides until he was nearly on them.

The window whirred as Dimitri rolled it down.

Clad entirely in black, the man crouched to peer in. He tipped back his baseball cap and squinted at them.

“My car’s parked just on the other side of the lot,” he told them in clear English. “We need to go now, if we’re going.”

Dimitri popped open the door and stepped out. He said something to the man that Ava couldn’t hear.

“I have it all covered,” she heard the man say.

Then the door closed and Dimitri was hurrying around the hood. Ava quickly unhitched herself, grabbed the gun, and reached for the door handle.

“Leave that,” Dimitri told her, nodding to the weapon.

“But—”

“Don’t worry.” The man came up behind Dimitri. “I’ll take care of it.”

Not sure what that meant, Ava set the gun back in the holder. It was empty anyway. She started to swing her legs out of the car, but Dimitri already had her up in his arms, tucked against his chest. She leaned into him, holding him close with her arms around his shoulders. If it were up to her, she would somehow crawl inside him and never leave.

“Just make your way in that direction,” the man said, motioning with one arm in the direction he’d come from.

Dimitri started to walk. Ava glanced back over his shoulder and watched as the man pulled a long piece of cloth from his pocket, maybe a rope, and stuffed most of it into the gas tank. She started to ask what he was doing, when a flare of fire lit up parts of the man’s face, and the dirty rag in an orange glow.

“You better walk faster,” Ava whispered to Dimitri.

He took one look back and broke out in a sprint. Ava tightened her grip on him, barely feeling the jostle as they put as much space between them and the car that was about to go up in flames.

The man met them just as the concrete ended and a curb rose to a grassy patch. They hurried past a series of buildings and thundered up a long, wooden pier. The crack of their feet on the planks matched the tempo of her heartbeat as they got away from the car. She kept glancing back, breath caught in her throat, waiting for the moment its explosion lit up the night sky. But the cloth Brock had used must have been several feet long, because they were at the end of the dock, getting ready to climb into a motorboat, when it finally went off.

It tore up into the sky in a cloud of fire and metal. The sound boomed for miles in all direction, sending waves of unbearable heat slamming into their backs. She tried to bury her face into Dimitri’s shoulder, but it slapped into her face. It blew back her hair and stung her eyes. She gasped as the stifling air washed down her throat.

Dimitri set her down. He climbed into the boat while Brock held it steady. He turned and held out his arms to her. She slid into them and let herself get lifted.

“Here.” Brock shook out a musty blanket that he withdrew from under one of the benches and held it out.

Dimitri swung it down around Ava’s shoulders and nudged her down. He took the spot next to her, but facing Brock.

“Where are we going?” she asked as the engine was revved to life.

“My plane,” Brock said, propelling them away from the pier and deeper across the open expanse of water.

A sickening thought jolted through her. It was that abrupt sinking sensation when you miss a step going down a flight of stairs.

“I don’t have any ID,” she had to shout over the roar of machine and the slap of waves against the sides. “Or my passport.”

“Not to worry,” Brock answered. “I can transport anything, anywhere.”

The twisting sensation continued. It intensified.

“Even women?” she asked, not exactly sure what she would do if he said yes. It was unlikely she’d jump overboard in protest, but she had to know.

“Women?” It was impossible to tell in the pitch darkness what his expression was, but his voice sounded confused. “No, things, mostly.”

Ava relaxed. She glanced in the direction they were headed.

It was impossible to tell how Brock knew which way to go when the entire world had gone an eerie black. Everything seemed endless as they hurtled through the void. Ava fought not to notice how similar it all felt to the cargo boat. Even the vibration in the seat made her shift. Suddenly all the air in the world wasn’t enough. No amount of calm, collected thinking staved away the rush of terror that pummeled her. She gasped and nearly swallowed a lungful of mist that sprayed back into her face. She choked on it, or her spit, or the clawing fist ramming down her throat.

One strong arm hooked around her middle and she was dragged into Dimitri. In that position, they would have been face to face if she could see him. Instead, all she could do was hug his arm to her chest and mash her face into the curve of his shoulder.

“You’re safe,
myshka
,” he murmured into the side of her head. “I will never let anything happen to you again.”

She didn’t speak. She honestly didn’t think herself capable without screaming. So, she shut her eyes tight and let the warmth of his embrace soothe her. Let his voice and the rhythmic skim of his fingers along her back lull her. It didn’t take away the panic that she might open her eyes and find herself back on that boat, but it numbed it slightly.

“Don’t let go,” she somehow choked out, teeth chattering so hard she half feared she’d take a chunk out of his arm.

His lips grazed her temple. “Never.”

It took what felt like days to reach a marina. The boat slowed and finally stopped all together alongside a dock. Dimitri climbed out first, then turned and hauled her up with him. He had to hold her up while she retained the use of her limbs. He didn’t seem to mind and probably would have stayed there until dawn if Brock hadn’t hopped out and urged them onward. Tucked against Dimitri’s chest, Ava allowed her eyes to close, exhaustion catching up to her.

The low, mechanical hum woke her. Its taunting buzz scuttled along her spine and radiated beneath her in a familiar vibration that made her skin break out in cold sweat. She bolted upright with speeds that sent the world tilting and her vision blurring. She shook her head, willing it to clear and bring her world into focus.

They were on a plane, a massive, metal bird painted a dark green and brimming with wooden crates and streamers of rope. There were only four chairs bolted into the ground; she and Dimitri occupied two.

He was sleeping, his head tilted back, his long, blunt fingers twisted possessively around hers. They both rested in her lap. She could barely see her hand, most of it was swallowed by his. The pallor of her skin clashed with the natural gold of his.

Even in sleep, he held her as though he intended never to let her go. It was with a fierce sort of determination that immediately dissolved her nightmares. Just having him there, knowing he’d come for her, that he’d been looking, made a world of difference she couldn’t even put into words. Walking into that house, not knowing what to except, and then seeing him there … it had been a moment she would never forget.

He looked rough. His eyes had thick, dark rings and there was a rough carpet along his jaw that needed a shaving. There were lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there before. The sight of them made her fingers itch to smooth them away.

You came,
she kept thinking over and over again with an amazement she couldn’t account for. There had never been a moment during her captivity that she didn’t believe he would find her, and yet, seeing him again felt like some incredible dream, one she was terrified she would wake up from and find herself still on that auction block or worse.

She hadn’t told him everything. She honestly didn’t know if she could. There were so many things she just wanted to forget and immediately felt like the worst person in the world, because of all the girls, she was possibly the only one who survived. The only one who had people powerful enough to track them down. She was going home while they … she couldn’t think about it. The guilt was already too much. The not knowing was suffocating. She hated herself and knew there was nothing she could do.

“Hey.”

She blinked out of her swirling thoughts and focused on the man watching her through thick lashes. “Hey.”

“Sleep okay?”

She shook her head. “I will once I get into my own bed.”

Dimitri nodded. “Are you hungry?”

She was. Not as severely as she had been after Julian had bought her, but enough accept the tiny box of cereal Dimitri handed her from the filthy cooler bolted into the ground next to him. It was followed by a plastic spoon and a small carton of milk that they shared.

“Tell me what happened, Ava,” he said after she’d finished her first and asked for a second box.

Her appetite vanished. She stared at the
Froot Loops
she’d asked for and her stomach whined.

“How’s Robby?” she asked instead.

He shook his head. “You first.”

She raised her eyes to his face, wondering how on earth she was supposed to tell him his mother had tried to kill her? He wouldn’t be angry with her, but he would be furious and do something horrible and dangerous that would get him killed. At the same time, she couldn’t not tell him. The bitch had drugged her and sold her.

“Ava?”

There was no avoiding it, she realized with a growing sense of exhaustion.

“Elena,” she whispered, and watched every flicker on his face while he pieced together that bit of information.

“What about her?”

Ava pulled in a deep breath. “When I woke up in Robby’s apartment, Elena was there with a really big guy. Definitely Russian. I didn’t see his face, but I remember his car smelled of sulfur and burnt plastic. He was the one who made the trade.”

Dimitri was silent a long while, turning this bit of information around in his head. Finally, he sucked in a breath when it finally fell into place.

“Ivan.”

Ava blinked. “Your brother?”

She’d never met his brother. She’d never even seen a photo of him. But from the stories Dimitri had told her of the other man, she had hoped it would stay that way. He was a monster, evil to the core. The sort of person who relished in the need for violence and blood, even if there was an alternative. He just needed it. Lived off it. Enjoyed it. The very idea that she’d been at his mercy made her skin cold and clammy.

“It sounds like his car,” Dimitri said, cutting into her thoughts. “Or rather, it smells like him. He spends a lot of time around bombs. The smell is embedded in his skin, even when he showers.”

Ava swallowed hard. “Bombs?”

Dimitri met her gaze evenly. “He likes bombs.” He said it so flatly, like that was normal. Maybe it was for Ivan. “What did Elena want?”

She hesitated, not exactly sure why, but once she opened her mouth, it all came out in full detail about everything that happened between waking up to Elena sitting at her bedside and the moment she found herself in Julian’s car.

“He took me to eat and then brought me to Hector’s house. He never asked about you or me, except my name. I don’t know how he knew you were there.”

“He said he knew the minute I boarded that I was there to find you,” Dimitri said almost absently.

“He’s not dangerous,” Ava said quickly. “I don’t believe for a minute he had an ulterior motive.”

“I don’t believe he had one either, but no one does anything without wanting something eventually.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever he wants, I will get it.” Those beautiful golden eyes met hers. “But it won’t be enough. I can never repay what he did.”

She squeezed his fingers. “How’s Robby?”

His expression tightened all over again. “He’s in the hospital, but he’s fine!” he added quickly when her mouth opened.

“What happened? Did Elena hurt him?”

“He was drugged,” he explained slowly. “He OD’d.”

“Oh my God!” Her hands flew up to her mouth.

“We took him to the hospital and the doctors assured us he was going to be okay.”

She shook her head wildly. “It’s not okay. He could have died.”

“He was very alive when I left.”

Ava wasn’t listening, her mind a white, pulsating fog highlighted in streaks of crimson that just kept spreading until all the white had been conjured. Robby’s smiling face blurred across her thoughts. His laughter rang in her ears. Robby with his lovely soul and generous heart. Her best friend.

“She almost killed him,” she breathed, her lips feeling unnaturally stiff. “She’s ruined his life.”