Madeline

 

Shock was putting it mildly. Everything in my system seemed out of whack, off balance. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time and I was left wondering just how my life got so very crazy.

 

I was wrapped tightly in Nikolai’s arms, clinging to him as though he were a ghost and might disappear any moment, as though my holding him was the only thing tethering him to this world.

 

Which, of course, was ridiculous. Nikolai was here, flesh and blood. His body was hard and warm, his heart a thundering drumbeat in my ear, his breath feathering across my golden hair. What seemed like only moments before I had thought he was dead. Fully and truly.

 

I shuddered at the thought.

 

Imagining Nikolai bleeding somewhere in a ditch was one of the worst things I’d ever conjured in my head and I was sure, alive or not, it would haunt me for a very long thing. And it wasn’t the only thing that would haunt me.

 

Of their own accord, my gaze slithered down to Shawn, lying unconscious on the floor. His face was beaten and bloody, so disfigured in that moment—swollen, covered in blood, his nose at the wrong sort of angle to be natural—that I wouldn’t have even been able to recognize him if I hadn’t known it was him.

 

Which wasn’t so far from the truth in the first place. If anything, I didn’t recognize him. Not in how he looked now or what he had tried to do just seconds before. My skin crawled at the thoughts of what Nikolai had interrupted.

 

The gun was aimed at me. Shakily, yes, but there was no question that the barrel was leveled at my chest and it was clutched in his hand. How could my best friend be threatening me?

 

“Shawn, what are you doing?” I asked, my chest constricting, my heart hurting with the weight of knowledge. The knowledge that my brother was something awful. That my friend was threatening me. And, worst of all, that Nikolai was out there somewhere, dying or maybe already dead.

 

I winced at the thought, the pain growing in my chest.

 

Shawn was visibly sweating, his upper lip coated with it, his brow pebbled with little beads of it. He licked his lip, wiping away that line of sweat. I imagined the gross, salty taste and cringed. After a moment, he answered, “Logan said you need to stay here. He told me—he told me I need to keep you here.” He made an unpleasant face, like he wasn’t all that happy with how things were going, but he didn’t seem to think there was any other choice. “So…just, come back to the bed.”

 

I stared at him, my eyes impossibly wide, my face a mask of complete and utter shock. How could he be doing this? “What?” I asked, my brain not really comprehending.

 

He licked his lips again. They looked really dry, cracked in places. “I said, come back to the bed. Now.” He had begun to put more force into his voice, and I sensed something had changed. He’d made a decision. One that I wasn’t going to like.

 

“Shawn,” I whispered, feeling the desperation creep up along my spine and into my throat. “We need to go. Logan…Logan has lost it. He killed a man!” Two men, I thought gravely, thinking of Nikolai. But I knew I couldn’t bring him up. I couldn’t, because it would tear my heart to shreds to keep thinking of him dead, but also because I knew that wouldn’t go over well with Shawn.

 

Finally, it occurred to me that Shawn lied. Nikolai wasn’t after us. Or at least, he wasn’t after me.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Shawn said. He stood up from the bed, suddenly looking too tall and menacing, not at all like the young man whom I’d considered my best friend for all of our lives. When had things changed so much?

 

He motioned with the gun for me to go back to the bed. “Get on the bed, Madeline. Now.”

 

It suddenly occurred to me how bad of a situation this was. This Shawn was being ruled by something I didn’t recognize and it wasn’t just fear, though there was certainly some of that. There was something else going on in his head, and it seemed like an awful thing.

 

I had to comply. He was being so erratic; I didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t listen. So, I slowly moved back to the bed, doing my best to not act afraid, though I most definitely was. His eyes flashed with something dark that I didn’t like. As I moved to stand beside the bed, he seemed to get a sudden idea.

 

“Take off your shirt.”

 

My eyes went wide. “What?”

 

“You heard me. Take it off.” He was still holding the gun and now we were much closer. There was no chance he’d miss if he fired it at me. When I didn’t move to comply with his ‘order,’ he motioned with the gun again. “I said take it off!”

 

I flinched as his voice rose in volume. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to take off my shirt, and I didn’t want to think about why he was asking me to. I didn’t want to think about that dark look in his eyes…

 

But with trembling, numb fingers, I reached the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes shut, fighting back a surge of tears, and jerked the shirt over my head. Sucking in a shuddering breath, I opened my eyes when he’d yet to give me further commands.

 

I saw him staring at me. His eyes were locked onto my breasts, which were starting to grow from my pregnancy, becoming too large for my regular bras now. I was practically spilling from it and I cringed at how hungrily he was staring at me.

 

Nausea swept through me. I knew what that look was now; I knew what he wanted. And it was awful.

 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, motioning again with the gun.

 

I almost shook my head, thought about fighting him off, but I knew with that gun, it would be all over in minutes. And I could no longer trust the thought that Shawn, my best friend, wouldn’t shoot me. This wasn’t the man I knew. All bets were off.

 

Trembling, I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. The tears had started to fill my eyes, blurring my vision and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they fell.

 

I saw Shawn’s left hand, the one not holding the gun, go to the fly of his jeans. I felt bile rise in my throat and had to work not to throw up. He was going to do this. He was actually going to force me to—

 

I couldn’t finish the thought.

 

My brain worked feverishly to try to come up with a way out of there. Maybe I could knock the gun away and make a break for the door. Probably not, though. Shawn was faster than he looked and I already knew he was stronger than I was. And even if I did manage to get out, where would I go? Maybe the guy at the front desk would help me—or maybe not. He didn’t seem to care much.

 

And Shawn had the keys to the car. If I tried to run, it would be on foot. He’d catch me in a heartbeat.

 

Dread filled me as he yanked down his zipper. I looked away so I wouldn’t have to see the evidence of his arousal—how could he be turned on by this?

 

Clenching my eyes shut, I begged him, “Please, Shawn, don’t do this.” It was barely even a whisper and he ignored it completely.

 

My eyes were still closed when I felt the shove on my shoulders. I fell back onto the bed and Shawn’s body followed me instantly, laying himself on top of me. The tears were finally falling and I was shaking my head. Panic swarmed me. This was happening. This was happening and he had a gun and what was I going to do?

 

I started to struggle, a sudden thought entering my head: I won’t let him have me.

 

Yes, he had a gun. Yes, I would probably die if I didn’t let him rape me. But, damnit, I’d rather be dead than raped.

 

I bucked at him and started slapping at his shoulders and arms, tried to shove him off of me. But it was hopeless. He grunted and cursed, but he wouldn’t get off of me. He managed to get a hold of my arms, pinning them above my head. All I’d succeeded in doing was annoying him. “Bitch,” he breathed. “You’ve always been a bitch. Never even bothered to see the nice guy right in front of you. No, it was all about the bad boy, wasn’t it? Well, is this bad enough for you?”

 

He held both of my wrists in one hand. I tried to jerk them free, but it was useless. His grip was surprisingly strong. He had finally tossed the gun aside. I would have been relieved except that I was still pinned down and now his free hand was undoing my pants, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties.

 

I screamed.

 

He didn’t care.

 

“Stop fucking struggling!”

 

And then the door came down. Nikolai appeared. And I wasn’t even sure I registered anything else. All I could think was: he’s alive.

 

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, fighting back more sobs. I had to be calm and collected. I needed to be strong. And that seemed a lot easier now that Nikolai was here.

 

He shook his head. “No, don’t be. None of this is your fault.”

 

I let that sink in for a moment. Not my fault. That was a good thing. A good feeling to know that after all that had just happened—and before that, too—Nikolai didn’t think it was my fault. It eased something hard and cold in my chest, making it just a little bit easier to breathe.

 

“What do we do now?” I asked in just barely a whisper.

 

He pulled back a little bit, my body instantly noticing his missing heat, and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. He glanced down at Shawn, his bright eyes flashing in fury. “We’ll have to do something about him.” He frowned, glancing between me and Shawn. “I suppose what we do depends on you.” He said that last bit stiffly, as though he didn’t like it, but was saying it because he felt duty bound to do so.

 

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

He let out a sigh. “I mean that he’s the father of your baby. If you want him around—” He shrugged, as though my answer was unimportant, but there was a flicker in his eyes that told me it was. Butterflies filled my stomach as I realized I had to tell him the truth. I didn’t know what he’d say, what he’d think after everything, but I needed him to know the truth of the matter.

 

I needed him to know how big of a lie I’d told him.

 

Sucking in a breath in hopes of steadying my nerves, I said what I’d been hiding for so long: “I lied.”

 

He looked at me uncertainly. His piercing blue eyes narrowed at me. “Lied about what?”

 

“About the baby.”

 

His expression faltered and there was a sudden and profound sadness left there in its wake. “You’re not pregnant?”

 

I blinked at him in surprise. That was not where I thought he would go with that. I shook my head at him. “No, I mean, yes, I’m pregnant. I mean I lied when I told you he was the father.” I couldn’t make myself look at Shawn much less say his name. “He’s not. I’ve…you’re the only man I’ve ever been with, Nikolai.” I hesitated, the final confession lingering on my lips uncertainly. Finally, I said in barely more than a whisper, “You’re the only man I want to be with. Just you.”

 

There was a moment of silence that spread between us, so deep, so stark that I thought I was too late. My confessions meant nothing now. I’d botched the whole thing up and I didn’t know what I would do and—

 

He jerked me to him, our chests colliding as he leaned down, his mouth seeking out mine. His kiss was hard, possessive, filled with the passion I’d always gotten from him. Not quite desperation, but so full of emotion and possession and need that it was undeniable.

 

I felt my arms go around his neck, my eyes fluttering shut as I fell against him, losing myself in that kiss. He held me to him tightly, his arms encasing me in strength and hard muscle, his hands on the small of my back and that spot between my shoulder blades to ensure I was going nowhere.

 

And I wasn’t. This was exactly where I wanted to be, nowhere else.

 

His tongue slid across my lips, feeling as though he’d done it a thousand times and should do it a thousand more. I opened my mouth for him, allowing his tongue to slide inside and duel with my own. I groaned against him, wishing for more than just this kiss and afraid at the same time to ask for it.

 

We kissed like that forever. Our bodies pressed together so tightly that nothing could fit between them, our breaths heaving, our heartbeats drumming in sync.

 

But eventually, it had to stop. We slowed down, albeit reluctantly. Then, with a tender sweep of his lips across mine, we finally broke apart. He sucked in a breath and when his eyes met mine, they flashed with desire and need. But there was no time for either.

 

Brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, he said, “We have to go. Staying here is dangerous.”

 

I nodded in agreement. I wanted out of this room. It didn’t matter where I was, so long as it wasn’t here and Nikolai was with me. His eyes drifted down to Shawn, examining him coolly. After a moment, he looked back to me. “He’s going to be a problem if he wakes up like that.” Considering him for a second longer, he said, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get to a phone any time soon.”

 

Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled away from me completely—it was a terrible feeling, the need to be beside him, wrapped up in him, so intense it was startling—and kneeling down to get a grip on Shawn’s feet. He nodded his chin towards the only other door in the room besides the entrance. “Open it, please.”

 

I nodded and went to it hurriedly. I opened the bathroom door, then stood aside so Nikolai could drag Shawn’s unconscious form into the small, dirty room. I watched him lean Shawn’s head against the porcelain of the toilet, then come back out into the main part of the room. He jerked out the cord for the telephone and made sure it was detached from both wall and phone. Then he proceeded to tie Shawn up, his hands coming together on the opposite side of the toilet, so it looked like he was hugging the cold porcelain, his head leaned against the top, cheek pressed to the side.

 

I thought Nikolai was done, but then he stole a pillow, too, and wadded it up. He shoved it into Shawn’s mouth. Then he stepped back and admired his work. Satisfied, he turned back to me. Raising a single eyebrow, he asked, “Are you okay with this?”

 

There was little today that I was okay with, but Shawn tied up to a toilet—alive, breathing, and in better shape than they thought they’d left Nikolai in—was one of them. I could live with it. I nodded.

 

He relaxed a little. “Good. We need to go.” He grabbed my arm—the third man to do so today, and by far the gentlest—leading me out the door. He frowned at the broken door he’d kicked in, and released me long enough to pull it back to a standing position. It was definitely still broken, but if you weren’t looking too closely, it looked almost just like the other doors next to it. Hopefully it would be enough to escape attention, for a while at least.

 

We started walking away from the Market Town Inn. I noticed his car wasn’t in sight. “Where are we going?” I asked.

 

He held my hand as we walked along the side of the road, staying a little farther into the woods so the trees helped to hide us from view. “I parked about a half a mile up the road, just to make sure no one spotted my car.” He offered me a wry smile. “I’m glad I did, though I don’t know how much good it did me in the end.”

 

I didn’t answer. I wanted to ask him what had happened, but at the same time, I knew enough to know I didn’t want to know any more. I stayed silent.

 

We walked until the woods opened up to a clearing. It was a parking lot for a building that looked rundown and boarded up. It didn’t look like anything. When we got around the shack, I spotted his car, hiding in the shadows.

 

“Good. It’s still here.”

 

He opened the passenger door for me and got in on the driver’s side. I shivered and immediately he started up the car in response, turning the heat on full blast. It took only a moment for it to heat up, but when it did, I felt better. The heat seeped into my bones, relaxing my body until I finally felt safe and warm and just better.

 

Nikolai looked over at me. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I need to find your brother.”

 

I nodded. Nikolai looked surprised, but I offered him a small, sad smile. “I know.”

 

After everything my brother had told me, I understood now that he wasn’t who I thought he was. And while maybe I wasn’t ready to consider what Nikolai would do to him—he was still my brother and no matter what he’d done, I didn’t wish for him to die—I knew my brother couldn’t be left to his own devices. He’d done something horrible.

 

I was hoping maybe I could talk Nikolai into calling the police. It seemed pretty improbable, but maybe if I told him I would make the call—anonymously—and be sure not to mention anything about Nikolai and his employers, then maybe he would go for it. Logan needed to be punished, but I wasn’t yet convinced that he needed to die.

 

I knew I’d have to talk to Nikolai about it before we reached my brother, but I also sensed that now was not the time to bring it up. Not yet, though it would have to be very soon.

 

“I’m not sure where he is,” I admitted to Nikolai, frowning. “I know he’s meeting up with Joshua, though.”

 

He nodded, thinking about it. “That’s good to know. I’ve got a location for Logan; I just wasn’t sure if this Joshua character would be there, too.”

 

I was surprised to find out that Nikolai knew already where Logan was, but I thought maybe I shouldn’t have been. After all, he’d found him at the Market Town Inn. Biting my lip, I nodded. “What are you going to do? Won’t it be dangerous with both of them there?”

 

Nikolai gave me a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle them.”

 

I frowned at him. He looked badly beat up, bruised, and his lip was a little bloody. He was covered in dirt, too, and I knew he’d been beaten severely enough that Logan was convinced he was dead. If it had gone that way the first time around, why would this time be any different?

 

As though reading my mind, Nikolai offered me a more genuine smile. He put his hand on mine, sending sparks of electricity running up my arms. “They got the jump on me before. But not this time. I won’t give them the chance to fight dirty twice.”

 

I nodded, though I was still scared and worried for him. This was going to go badly; I could feel it.

 

We drove towards a warehouse that Nikolai had apparently been directed towards. He insisted we stop at a store on the way to pick up a disposable cell phone and to get me some ginger ale and Mentos, the only things that kept my stomach calm, but aside from that, we didn’t stop at all.

 

He seemed a little on edge with me being there. “I would drop you off first,” he explained as we drove through the quiet night. “But I can’t be sure nothing will happen. What if Logan leaves before I get there? What if Shawn manages to get out? No, I can’t leave you alone. This is the only way I can protect you.”

 

A warm feeling flooded me. After the way my brother had so carelessly dragged me into this, after Shawn had pointed a gun at my head and then forced himself on me, it was nice to have at least one person thinking about my safety.

 

I smiled at Nikolai, relieved we were finally together again.