Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] (23 page)

“You’re hurting my ribs.” Her body shook with great spasms. Wolf swore at her quiet sob.

He placed her onto the ground behind a large tree. “Stay,” he commanded, he tossed his coat around her huddled form, then slipped into the forest leaving her alone.

* * * *

Christy huddled against the base of the tree, her arms wrapped around her chest enveloped in Wolf’s jacket. She sobbed with concern; Wolf had left her all alone, was he abandoning her? She couldn’t help the fact she hurt. But he promised he would take care of her, he wouldn’t leave her to the police. Lando would be in so much danger. She centered on the idea he would at least retrieve his jacket.

For a few moments, she remained unmoving, filled with mounting apprehension, then watched, horrified, as all hell broke loose. Cars were exploding and men were running, screaming for their lives. Another explosion sounded near the cabin, felling a massive tree. Christy remained transfixed as brilliant lights repeatedly lit up the sky like fireworks. It became apparent to her Wolf didn’t carry just one hand grenade. He was putting his arsenal of weapons and knowledge to good use, and Christy became all too aware Wolf was indeed an assassin.

She covered her ears, horrified while names were called in desperation as the police tried to locate their partners through the fiasco. Sometimes only ragged screams replied, calling for help. Worse was when there was no response. Christy realized how silence could be deafening.

She was horror-stricken, knowing she was responsible for any deaths that might be occurring. She couldn’t take the pain of someone being hurt because of her. She clasped her hands to her ears, but the explosions continued, and the screaming increased. Lando didn’t tell her innocent people might be harmed to save her life. She began to stumble from behind the tree and found herself caught up in Wolf’s powerful embrace.

“I said stay,” Wolf snapped as he grabbed her up off the ground, and threw her over his shoulder. “I don’t like being disobeyed.”

“Don’t hurt them, Wolf, please,” Christy begged, ignoring the pain in her ribs as her pain for others engulfed her. “It’s my fault, my fault,” she sobbed over and over as Wolf threw her into a nearby vehicle and sped away.

The car bounced over the rough terrain, then spit gravel as it entered the roadway. Christy heard the battering of voices from a radio and realized Wolf must have stolen an unmarked police car. Christy huddled in the far corner against the door, knowing he was furious. She sensed there would be repercussions.

They drove at a fast pace for a long while, changing direction at intervals and various time periods. After what seemed a quarter of an hour, Wolf snapped off the radio and slowed the car. When he finally stopped the vehicle, Christy tried to shy back, but he grabbed a fistful of her shirt. His jacket fell around her hips. Viciously he yanked her to him, his face only inches from hers. The night was dark but the shining moon and starlight bathed his thunderous expression.

“You disobeyed me, don’t fucking piss me off on purpose,” he ferociously yelled.

“It would’ve been my fault if you killed them.” Christy cringed from his intense rage. She cried, now fearful of his intent. She tried to pull at his wrist to dislodge his hand, but it was useless.

“Damn you. It would have been your fault if you had gotten killed. Death is death. The cops wouldn’t have asked who you were before they shot you in the dark. They wouldn’t have waited to see if you were an innocent, with bombs exploding all around them and officers screaming. If you don’t want my help then get the hell out of the car.” Wolf snarled. He thrust Christy physically from him. She hit the car door with a bang, crying out.

Christy’s body shuddered. She rubbed at her aching shoulder. She wanted to live, but not at another’s expense. Bowing her head, chest heaving, and whimpering, she opened the car door, preparing to climb out into the dark, frightening night, alone once again. She would hide somewhere. She would go find Lando, she would…. Wolf grabbed her by the arm, forcing her back into the vehicle. He leaned beyond her, slamming her door closed. Wolf ran a frustrated hand over his face.

“So let me get this straight. You want to die?”

“No, I don’t want to be the cause of someone else’s suffering. I’ve been on the receiving end of suffering. A great deal, in fact. I won’t be the cause of another’s.”

Wolf had been glaring at her. Now his eyebrows were raised incredulously. Her body shook with tremendous spasms, her teeth chattered in fear. She wondered what he would do. But he needed to know she meant what she said. No one would suffer because of her. She wouldn’t be the cause of cruelty. She may cower and be afraid, but she wouldn’t relent. If he was going to save her he would have to obey her terms or she would forfeit her life for the sake of another.

* * * *

“
Damn you, Lando
.” Wolf howled, slamming his hand against the dashboard.

Fine
.

He would protect her, but when this was over Lando was going to pay in interest. He was going to owe him more than money; he was going to owe him in blood. The returned favor of saving a life would be honored by him, by God. If Wolf ever needed a protective place for someone he loved, Lando was going to honor it.

Once more snarling in anger, Wolf drove the car at a slower pace. He snapped on the radio to listen to the whereabouts of other police cruisers. Christy remained huddled in the corner. Though fearful, she would remain true to her word. Grudgingly, Wolf respected her tenacity. He should have realized even kittens have claws. This little kitten’s were embedded in compassion and humanity.

Christy woke when Wolf picked her up into his arms and headed for a soft light. They had driven for hours and hours, only stopping for gas. She could hear the quiet sounds of the city in the distance. A cat howled, a can of garbage crashed, a woman yelled obscenities at someone.

Christy was exhausted, emotionally as well as physically. Mentally she was done in. Wolf hadn’t even allowed her to tend to personal needs alone. He remained inside the restroom with her, only keeping his back turned, or he stopped on the side of the road when a dark place presented itself. By then Christy was too tired to do more than sob with embarrassment.

Wolf acquired three different cars in less than three hours. Christy offered a protest at the first one, yet Wolf swore he injured no one. After a while she was too tired to question him. He seemed to be heading to a particular place. When Christy asked, he remained silent, offering no explanation. For most of their trip he ignored her.

“Wolf, please,” Christy pleaded. Her weariness overwhelmed her. She was so tired she was ready to beg him to end her misery. Her body throbbed everywhere. She was too tired to lift her arms to hang onto him; they hung dangling limply at her sides, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Hang in there. I’ll put you to bed,” Wolf promised.

Wolf entered the small home. It was empty; he had already been through it. He left her for a few brief moments, and Christy was beyond relieved at his return. He took Christy into a small bedroom and placed her on the bed.

“Please Wolf, the sneakers aren’t mine and they pinch.”

She was grateful when he removed her shoes and shifted her under the covers. The sheets were cold and smelled musty. The room was dingy and semi dark. Boards covered the single window. A chair with a missing arm sat in a corner. The walls were a dreary grey. Sad, the room was sad. It matched Christy’s mood.

“Lando,” she whimpered.

“Say
Wolf,”
Wolf suddenly yelled into her face, grabbing cruelly at her hair. Christy gasped in stunned surprise as he shook her. Chad’s face popped into her mind and she wanted to scream but couldn’t. Her hands pushed on his solid chest. Wolf broke through her thoughts demanding she say his name.

“Wolf,
Wolf,”
Christy cried out, grabbing at his powerful grip, terrified. He was snarling at her. She could feel his hot breath, his ferocious glare only inches from her.

“It’s too damned dangerous for you to call out his name. Do you understand me?” Wolf said, giving her head another sound shake.

“Yes, Wolf, please, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, please,” Christy cried out until he loosened his vicious grip. His angry expression eased somewhat and he sauntered over to a nearby chair. He dropped heavily into it as though he, too, were weary to the bone.

Christy turned from him, sobbing, there was a lump in her throat from his attack; she pulled herself into a tight ball, and shoved her fist against her mouth. She soon succumbed to her exhaustion. She knew the dreams would come again and she was terrified of calling out to Lando.

* * * *

During the night, Christy wept in her sleep. Her saddened voice called to Wolf instead of who she really needed. To his credit, Wolf went to her when she called, wanting her to continue to cry out for him instead. He knew if he didn’t heed her cries she would cry out for Lando.

They were on shaky ground. When Wolf made his last phone call, he realized he had some damage control to do. Things were heating up. Lando really stirred up trouble when he resurfaced. The police were looking for Lando’s ex-boss. Lines were being drawn and Wolf didn’t want to be found behind the wrong lines. Angrily, he wondered if his informant could even be trusted.

“Wolf,” Christy again whimpered.

Running a ragged hand across his tired brow, Wolf rose to his feet and went to her. Christy was scared to death of him. She watched him approach wide-eyed and fearfully wondering if she accidently said the wrong name. She woke herself when she cried out in her dreams. He hadn’t meant to be so brutal, but he wasn’t about to get killed for her. If she said Lando’s name even once heads would roll, and Wolf would have to play his hand. That meant he would have to kill. Wolf didn’t like killing anyone he wasn’t contracted to hit. Going into this venture Wolf knew there might be trouble. He wasn’t sorry he took the job; the woman was cute, vulnerable. But she was high maintenance.

Wolf gave in to his weariness. Instead of comforting her, then heading back to his chair, he instead pulled her into his arms holding her close. Thankfully, he noticed this worked better. When she shifted, all it took was a quiet, “Shh,” and she calmed. He didn’t have to keep up his performance of good assassin bad assassin.

Perhaps he would be able to attain some well-deserved sleep tonight. He hadn’t been assured this was a safe house, but it would do for a few hours until he could rest. Wolf was informed his whereabouts were being questioned by another
very
interested party. A party he needed to avoid. They needed to be off at first light; Wolf needed to acquire another car in the morning. He was told one was already waiting, he hoped, at a secure drop-off point.

* * * *

Christy woke to raised voices. She resisted the urge to cry for Lando, instinctively knowing the result would be disastrous. Instead, she crept from the small room, heading in the direction of Wolf’s strong voice. Emerging from the room, Christy stopped dead in her tracks. Three men turned to look at her. Standing to the side of Wolf were two men. One tall, lanky and blond; the other shorter, dark-haired man had an incredibly stocky build.

You could
land a plane on that man’s chest
.

“Kitten,” Wolf demanded sharply. Knowing
that
tone of voice, Christy went to him. She buried her face against his chest, her fingers gripping his shirt. To her surprise, Wolf clutched her possessively.

“Do as I say,” Wolf commanded directly into her ear, when he leaned down to her, appearing to offer reassurance for the benefit of the other men.

Christy shuddered, knowing they were in grave danger. She pulled him closer. Wolf tilted her head and kissed her mouth thoroughly. Christy didn’t respond, yet she knew better than to struggle or push at him. When Wolf broke contact, he once more secured her head against his chest. Christy could not only hear but feel his heart pounding. She resisted the urge to pull away and run.

“Well, lookit what Wolf’s got,” the blond man drawled. “You gonna share your new toy?”

Faster than Christy had ever seen anyone move, the blond man was slammed into a wall. Wolf’s forearm lodged under the man’s chin and he was lifted up off the ground. This time Christy did cry out, though her feet remained rooted to the floor. She had never seen such an enraged expression on Wolf’s face.

“I don’t share what’s mine.” Wolf snarled threateningly. He released the man, who slumped, grabbing at his throat, choking. Wolf took Christy by the arm and pulled her to him in a possessive gesture.

“Well hell, Wolf, I was just playing,” the blond man declared when he regained his voice.

“I don’t play nice,” Wolf said, glaring at the man. His dark gaze fastened on the blond man dangerously.

Christy watched the exchange. It was obvious Wolf was familiar with these two men, and he seemed worried. He wore the impassive face that so unnerved Christy, she could still feel his heart pounding. Nothing else gave any indication he was agitated.

“We need to get moving,” said the dark-haired man.

Christy saw his gaze flash to her, assessing her, having witnessed the exchange between the other two men. He seemed to be summing up Wolf’s possessiveness toward her. His cunning eyes trailed over her bruises coyly, making her squirm with trepidation. She eyed him back fearfully.

“He’s right, Mitch,” the dark-haired man commented. “The great Wolf doesn’t share and he doesn’t play nice. The great Wolf stalks his prey quickly without any preamble,” he began in a mocking tone. “Where did you get the girl? Never knew you to beat a woman before.”

“I didn’t beat her. And it’s none of your damned business where she came from,” Wolf ground out between clenched teeth.

Christy shrank back against Wolf as the two men glared at one another. Only a moment passed before the dark-haired man drew a deep intake of breath, as though calming his anger. Christy knew immediately Wolf had won this round.

“Put the girl somewhere,” the dark-haired man commanded. “It’s time to leave.”