Chapter 17 - Plenty of Rope

Deira had kicked the covers off again. Gage sat down on the bed and woke her, a glass of water ready on the nightstand. He held her up while she drank, then lowered her down to the pillow.

"I feel like hell," she muttered.

"Of course you do," he replied. "You will likely feel worse come morning, but you will get through it."

"How bad do I look?" she asked.

"Bad," he answered. There was no point in denying it. "But you managed to escape with no broken bones. And your life."

"What happened to my hand?" she asked, trying to flex it.

"You clenched your fist around your knife."

"I didn't want to drop it again," she whispered. "You weren't there to pick it up."

"Not this time." His voice was hard.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," he lied. It would not help her to know the truth.

"You should be. What I did was stupid."

"Yes. Had it been Cavuto's men who found you..." he started. She cut him off.

"It was. Or I think it was. I hadn't seen those two before, but they said that someone wanted me alive, and he's the only enemy I have." She closed her eyes again but did not go back to sleep.

"His close associates would have been more efficient," he mused. "I will find out what is going on. Don't worry about it tonight. You need to rest." He got up.

"Stay," she pleaded, reaching for him. Pain swept over her with the movement.

"I will be right here." He moved to the chair.

"Please?"

"It is not a good idea. You are badly hurt. If I fall asleep next to you, I could hurt you more." So much more.

"But you won't leave me?"

"I will keep an eye on you tonight. Get some sleep. I will wake you in a few hours." He leaned his head back in the chair and waited for the sound of her breathing to deepen before going downstairs for another cup of coffee.

He called Nicky. Since she knew there would be no training tomorrow, she would probably be working, delving into other people's secrets while they slept. They were more alike than he cared to admit. He told her what Deira had said. She promised to find out what she could and call him in the morning.

There was nothing left for him to do but wait and think. Without information, that proved pointless. He finally gave up and went to work out, leaving Deira sleeping soundly.

Katya was studying in the kitchen when he got downstairs. The sun was barely up.

"I thought college students slept in," he said, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

"They do. That's why I get up early. It's quieter, so I can get more work done." She marked her place and closed the book.

"You should enjoy the luxury of sleep while you can. Soon enough you will be forced to get up early for work." He sat down across from her.

"I thought I would go into the family business and avoid all that." She laughed when he tensed.

"Funny girl. I am not paying for college so you can spend your life chasing invoices."

"As you pointed out last night, my expenses are largely covered by scholarships." She gave him a wicked smile. "Don't you want me to be like you?'

"No," he answered automatically, then softened his tone. "I want better for you than that."

"Better than to be so successful at business that I can put someone through school and still manage to see the world? Really, Uncle Charlie, I don't see that your life is so awful."

"It is hard to see from the outside," he said. He regretted it instantly. She did not seem to take offense.

"Not to worry. I think I have a promising career in medicine," she said, getting up. "I think I'll go check on my latest patient."

A few moments later, he heard the bath running. Katya called for him and he went to assist her.

Deira was trying to get out of bed on her own. He shook his head and moved to pick her up.

"I don't need your help," she snapped.

"I think you're wrong, princess. I saw what they did to your leg." He lifted her easily.

"That wasn't them. They were more intent on beating the living shit out of me. It was Nicky who bruised my leg." She grimaced.

"She has improved, then." He didn't want to think about what that could mean. The conversation regarding what had gone wrong when Deira had been attacked could be saved for later.

"Lucky shot," Deira grumbled.

"If you say so. It still results in you needing my help. Stop being stubborn." There was no point in her arguing anyway. He deposited her in the bathroom.

"You going to help me into the tub, too?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

"I think I'll leave that to Katya."

"Coward," she called as he walked out.

Katya watched the exchange thoughtfully but said nothing. She removed the bandages, got Deira into the tub, and brought up a cup of tea.

"Thank you," Deira said as Katya turned away. "For everything." Who the hell is she? If he had a daughter, he'd never mentioned it. At least the mystery of the clothing was solved.

"You're welcome," Katya hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Deira said warily.

"How long have you known my uncle?"

"A couple of months."

"And you're friends?" Katya asked, still standing in the doorway.

"In a manner of speaking," Deira answered.

"I see."

"I doubt you do," Deira said. "It's complicated."

"Very little with him is not complicated," Katya muttered.

"God's honest truth." Deira hesitated. "Are you really trying to ask if we're romantically involved?"

"I suppose I am."

"The answer is no. I met him through business channels, and he was kind enough to introduce me to Nicky." It was a safe enough answer.

"What business are you in?" Katya asked.

"Real estate."

"That makes sense." Katya nodded her head. "It just seemed that there was more to it."

"Probably because he was rescuing me from my own stupidity. I should have known better than to be in that neighborhood alone."

"It wasn't your fault that you were attacked," Katya protested.

"I was lucky he was around when Nicky called him. At any rate, I seriously doubt your uncle would be interested in someone like me. But it was smarter to ask me than him. From what I've seen, he's not much for straight answers."

"He never has been."

"Glad it's not just me," Deira said.

"I'll leave the door open a bit," Katya said. "Call if you need help getting out."

Gage had listened to the exchange as he stripped the bed, admiring the way Deira danced along the edge of the truth. He hoped it had been enough to satisfy Katya. He took the bedding down to the basement. More laundry.

Deira was determined to make it down the stairs on her own. Katya insisted on helping her. They found Gage standing at the stove, making breakfast. He waved them to the table, but Katya declined, opting to take her computer into the living room so she could write a paper. She closed the door behind her.

Deira and Gage ate in silence. There was a comfort to this routine. They both attempted to ignore it.

"How are you feeling?" he asked when they had finished.

"Spectacularly bad. How about you?" She winced as she shifted. There was no comfortable position.

"Tired. You have a talent for keeping me up all night."

"I have to be good at something," she said.

"From what I saw in the warehouse, there are many things you are good at."

"You mean getting caught?" She snorted. "I'm a fucking pro, apparently."

"I was referring to your impersonation of Spiderman," he said. "I did not expect that."

"Yeah, well, the parkour moves didn't help me much in the park." The pain was making her words sharper than she'd meant them to be.

"You fought two men and lived."

"If this counts as living."

"Better than the alternative," he countered.

"Yes." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I think it would have been much worse, even before they delivered me to Cavuto."

"He would want you alive and relatively whole," Gage said.

"They said that, too. But they said that they would make me pay for hurting them first. I think they would have..." she could not finish.

She didn't have to. He could see it in her eyes.

"Then I will kill them for free," he growled, looking away. Control slowly returned to his features.

"Can I watch, at least?" she asked, eyes glittering.

"Certainly."

"Can I help?"

"If you'd like." He shook his head. "You constantly surprise me, princess."

"What? That I want to kill people who hurt me? That should be a given, all things considered."

"No, that you are so eager about it."

"Oh, that. I thought we'd already established that I'm seriously unbalanced." She grinned at him.

"Indeed."

"Probably not all that far from sociopath now." She watched him for a reaction. There was none. "Besides, it does seem a shame to waste such an offer from the world's scariest guy."

"Not even close to the most scary," he warned.

"Especially since, for once, it won't cost me a thing," she continued as if he had not spoken.

"Why is it always about payment with you?" he asked.

She stared at him, stunned. He laughed.

She started to laugh, then gasped. She cursed him roundly for that. He brought her some pills and water, still chuckling.

He was not going to tell her that he had no intention of letting her anywhere near the men who had attacked her, nor those who had attacked her sister. Thus far, she had killed only one person. If he could keep her from committing a second murder, she had a chance at a normal life. One without me. It would be better if she stepped away now, left the job behind.

"Your injuries are fairly bad," he began slowly.

"You have a flair for the obvious." She rolled her eyes.

"If we are to keep to the plan, you may have to sit out."

"The hell you say!"

"Considering your...encounter...yesterday, it would be a bad idea to put it off." He remained calm. "The longer it takes us to move, the better chance they have of finding out about the contract. All they would have to do is shut down and set up somewhere else. We would have to start from scratch. Providing the buyer was still interested."

"You make it sound like they could move shop easily," she said slowly.

"They could."

"We had planned on a week, right?"

"Yes." He tensed.

"You're right," she said reluctantly. "I won't be able to help with the hit."

He relaxed. "No. You won't."

"But as long as I had cover, I could still handle the explosives. I'm bruised, not broken."

"We may have to rethink that. You would still need to be able to move well, in case something went wrong."

The phone rang, preventing her from replying. Gage answered. He stared out the back window, listening, occasionally nodding. She could not hear what he said, but the conversation played across the muscles in his shoulders. He opened and closed his fist repeatedly. Whatever he was hearing, it did not please him. He hung up and turned slowly to face Deira.

"That was Nicky," he said.

"What did she want?"

"It seems your attack was not random." He was speaking slowly.

"We figured that," she said, confused. "Cavuto wants me to suffer. The feeling is mutual."

Gage gave her a calculating look.

Deira shifted. The drugs were kicking in, so it didn't hurt as much. Gage began pacing. That's never good.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is Nicky okay?"

"Nicky is fine," he said, still moving.

"Stop pacing and tell me what's up," she insisted. He stopped.

"You are a target."

The kitchen seemed to narrow into a tunnel with him at the other side. Deira tried to remember how to breathe.

"Shit."