Chapter 18 - Grave Concerns

Gage's mind was churning with possibilities. Nicky's news had not been entirely unexpected. The break in at Deira's old apartment and yesterday's attack indicated a pattern. He had known they were looking for her. What he did not know was whether or not her connection to him had been discovered. Much depended on that. Nicky was finding out what she could as fast as she could. Until he knew more, there was little he could do in the way of planning. It irritated him that he was relying so heavily on Nicky. If this kept up, he might well end up owing her, and he did not like owing anybody.

Deira sat perfectly still. Gage was distracted. Not that it mattered. She would never be able to move fast enough to get away from him. For the first time, she thought about what it would mean to die. How would it feel? Would her father mourn her? What would it do to her brothers to lose their sister? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to any of those questions.

In a single moment, the men she had killed became real people. She hadn't thought about what their deaths had meant to anyone but her. She was glad there wouldn't be much time to dwell on it. She didn't want them to be anything but the monsters she remembered them being. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. So this is where it ends.

Gage looked at Deira. She was staring at him with a mixture of fear and resignation. He frowned. She had known Cavuto was looking for her. He took a step towards her and she flinched.

"Easy, princess, handling these situations is my specialty."

"At this point, I'm resigned to rolling over and dying," she returned calmly.

"I would have thought you would fight a bit harder to stay alive."

"Would that make it easier for you?"

"Of course it would." His tone was dismissive.

"Sorry. I may not be able to stop you, but I'll be damned if I make it easy," she spat. He stared at her.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You just said I was a target," she answered.

He regarded her a moment, trying to understand. And then he did. He let anger wash over him.

"You think I meant you are my target?"

"You said..." Her voice trailed off.

"God's teeth," he muttered. "I did not think you were that thick."

It was her turn to stare.

"I do not burn my associates," he growled. "And even if I did, I would hardly announce my intention to do so beforehand."

"Oh."

"No more drugs for you if they are going to make you an imbecile. Did you really think I would kill you?"

"I believe you threatened to do so twice on the night we met," she said.

"Things have changed since then." He cocked his head. "Perhaps I should have asked if you really think me so heartless that I would tell you that you were about to die."

"I make no assumptions about your heart," she said wryly.

"Probably wise," he said, anger fading. "It is not my best feature."

"I know." She sighed. "So what do we do next?"

"Well, the first thing to do is make sure they have not been to your apartment. I will have Nicky go by there." What he would do first would be review the video feed, but he was not going to tell her that.

"I'm going to need to go back there. For one thing, I could use some clothes. I can't spend the whole day like this." She gestured to the bathrobe. "And for another, my weapons are there."

"You are in no shape to go anywhere. I will get what you need once we have determined it is safe."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I want you in my place without me," she said.

"I will not be going there to pry." I already know where you hide things.

"Oh, yay. Round two of house arrest, here we come." She wasn't as irritated as she sounded.

"Only a day or two. You will need that long to recover anyway. By then, we should also have a plan in place to deal with this latest complication." Nothing was easy with her around, but he did not mind the idea of her staying.

"About that," she started. She had to swallow before continuing. "We knew Cavuto was looking for me, right?"

He nodded.

"So what changed that made you tense up?"

"He put out feelers for a contract hit. From what you heard in the park, he originally wanted you alive. He has obviously changed his mind."

"Obviously. But why?"

"I would guess that they have made the connection to your sister," he said quietly. "If you know about the abductions, you could testify against him."

"Right," Deira snorted, "because after I killed a few of his people, I'd just run to the cops."

"You did not kill 'a few' of his people," Gage said.

"No, but he doesn't know that. Two died in the warehouse and two on the street. That makes me a definite threat, but it doesn't explain why he would think I'd talk to the cops."

"He knows that you are not working alone," Gage said carefully, "or you would have just as easily dispensed with the men in the park. There is something else." He hesitated. She needed to know, but he did not want to tell her.

"Great, because I need something else. What more could there be?"

"You only killed one man." Gage watched as she blanched.

"Shit." The list of expletives continued in her head. It took a while to run out.

"We can adjust the plan to account for four instead of three," he said, not mentioning that he already had.

"Man, when I screw up, I do it all the way." She shook her head, then winced. She could still feel the stiffness in her neck and jaw, despite the pain killers.

"It is not uncommon to make mistakes. Especially your first time."

"That doesn't make it easier to swallow," she replied.

"Prior to meeting me, you believed I was dead," he stated.

"Everyone did." The abrupt change of topic confused her.

"Would it not have been reasonable, then, to assume I had made a mistake?"

"But you didn't. You faked your death, obviously."

"Yes. Because I made a mistake, one that could easily have killed me. One that almost did," he said evenly. "I took the opportunity to get out of the business."

"Until you met me," she said, looking down.

"It was not likely that the world would have allowed me to stay dead, princess," he said. "If it had not been your predicament, something else would have tempted me out of the grave."

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who gives into temptation that often."

"You would be surprised. Now, you need to rest. Do you want me to help you back to bed, or would you like to insist on doing it by yourself? Either way, I end up carrying you up the stairs."

"Funny." She rolled her eyes. "I'll go nuts if I spend the day in bed."

"Then I will ask Katya to abandon the couch and write her paper in here or in her room." He went into the living room.

Katya came out a moment later. She put her laptop on the table, refilled her coffee cup and turned to regard Deira.

"His bathrobe is a bit big for you," Katya said with a smile.

"He's a big guy. I didn't have many options." Deira shrugged.

"I have sweats upstairs," Katya offered. "Unless you prefer to hang out in his clothes?" Her lips twitched.

"No. Sweats would be great. Thank you."

Katya flew up the stairs and returned just as quickly. Deira refused her offer of assistance and changed in the bathroom. She looked in the mirror for the first time since the fight. A purple and blue bruise lined her jaw on the left side of her face. Her ribs were worse. She touched them anyway. It could have been worse. Moving was difficult. Where she was not bruised, she was stiff. She was glad that there was no one to witness the contortions she underwent to get the pants on. The t-shirt went on more easily. It was loose and hung past her hips. She realized it must belong to Gage. She wished it smelled like him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her attraction to him was both crazy and fruitless. She found a comb and viciously worked out the tangles in her hair. It felt good to be the cause of her own pain for once.

Gage entered his office and locked the door. A review of the video from her apartment only showed her preparations for her run. He reran it, watching her stretch. She had beautiful legs. The training had given her muscle definition in her shoulders and back that he had not noticed before. He entered the code to erase the tape. It would do no good to look again on her, so unsuspecting, so unblemished. He sighed and left the office, locking it behind him.

Katya and Deira were on either side of the couch, their knees drawn up, feet almost touching. The TV was on, but neither was watching the movie. It was clear that he had interrupted a conversation. If not for Deira's injuries, it would have been a picture of normalcy. He wished it was.

"I am going out," he announced. Two blonde heads turned. He addressed Katya. "If you have no objections, I would like Deira to stay another night."

"It's your house, Uncle Charlie," Katya said.

"And yours, kitten." He ignored her snort.

"It's fine with me if it's okay with Deira," Katya replied. "You need to get groceries, though. Your refrigerator has a bad case of bacheloritis."

"That was on the agenda." He turned to Deira. "Did you want me to get anything from your apartment?" He eyed her clothes. "So you can be more comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you. I think I should make you a list, though." She carefully shifted to get up.

"Stay. I will bring you paper and pen." He went back in his office and returned a moment later.

Katya dictated a grocery list. He did not write it down. Deira handed him a page listing items and where he could find them in her apartment. Her handwriting was no better than his.

"I will lock the door behind me. The security cameras are on," he said. Katya rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't worry about us," she said.

"I do worry about you. Both of you. I will not be long. I have my cell phone if you need me."

"And I have access to your guns," Katya said. "We'll be fine."

He left after checking to be sure the gun in the kitchen was loaded. The sound of laughter followed him out. At least he didn't have to worry about them shooting each other. They were getting along far too well.

When Gage was gone, Deira turned to Katya.

"Kitten?" She grinned.

"Princess?" Katya shot back. Deira blushed.

"Does he have pet names for everyone?"

"Almost. He tried to give my mother a nickname but she would have none of it," Katya answered. "She just swore at him in Russian whenever he tried. I think he even blushed once. My mom was inventive with curses."

"So he does speak Russian," Deira mused.

"Oh, God," Katya groaned. "Don't tell me he trotted out how many languages he speaks."

"Pretty early on," Deira said, laughing.

Katya rolled her eyes. "You know that two of those are basically the same language, right? There's not much difference between Serbian and Croatian, or Albanian for that matter. It's all in the pronunciation, but the distinction matters to him. The other Slavic languages aren't hard pick up from there."

"So which one is his native language?" Deira asked.

"Serbian. Do yourself a favor, though. Don't ask him anything about that. He's a little sensitive about his homeland."

"Sensitive is not a word I would have associated with him."

"Maybe touchy is more accurate." Katya shrugged.

"That I'll buy," Deira said. It felt good to have a normal conversation. She would keep what she learned of Gage to herself.

For now.