Assassin Treasure (Assassins Book 4) (10 page)

She would be doomed to spend the rest of her life in hell, beaten down and antagonized mercilessly. Candy’s thoughts screamed at the endless horror that would be hers. Or would he throw her through the door and watch, laughing, as the animals attacked with the smell of blood on her? She couldn’t accept this was to be her destiny, death and agony were the only thoughts her mind settled onto. She shook her head, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be…

Her mind went numb; it began to close down, refusing to think about her fate. She would hide, go away where he couldn’t find her and hurt her again. She’d cease to exist. Thoughts came to her in a quiet whisper, the room turned around her in a backward motion, spinning lazily. Candy eagerly followed the motion. Soon Dirk was gone; it was he who ceased to exist.

Candy suddenly saw her cottage, she gazed about curiously. She was back and she was
safe. She must have been dreaming before, it had all been just a horrible nightmare, a
nightmare that faded in her mind until she forgot. The wonderful smell of the
country tickled her senses. The numerous tall trees beckoned in the distance. Home. No one could harm her here, she would never leave again. Candy happily made
her way forward, floating into a gentle, misty, rolling fog.

* * * *

Dirk watched as Candy’s terrified eyes glazed over, turning empty. Her body went limp in his grasp; her hands slipped from his shirt, her arms now dangled by her sides. She looked beyond him sightlessly. A horrible feeling settled over him and his eyes widened in shock.

“Damn it, Candy, don’t do that. I was angry.
I didn’t fucking mean it,”
Dirk howled.

Realizing what he’d done, he scooped her up into his arms cradling her to his chest. He raced with her to the living room and placed her carefully onto the couch and smoothed the curls from her face. Dirk’s fingers checked her pulse. He checked to make certain she was alive and breathing.

“Christ, Dirk, what the hell just happened to her?” Damien’s tone filled with confused concern, as he trailed after him.

Dirk knew this was the first time the young man had experienced a person succumbing to their all-encompassing terror. Candy looked like she fainted again; only her eyes remained eerily open, as if she were looking at something in the distance they couldn’t see.

“Candy,” Dirk shouted down at her, shaking her. “Get me a glass of cold water,” Dirk ordered his brother. Damien complied and watched as Dirk threw it into her face. Candy didn’t move. She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. The water dripped from her ashen face onto the cushions beneath her.

Dirk rubbed at his jaw. He rose and began pacing. Dirk felt sick and berated himself furiously. He should’ve remembered she fainted when he last threatened her. She’d been through too much trauma to be able to handle more. He never should’ve lost his temper, but he was so damned touchy about Carrie. He should’ve realized the girl might think he was cruel to her. Candy would naturally assume because of his profession he was evil. Dirk stopped short, looking down on her. He felt evil. There was a cold hand on his shoulder damning him. He could just imagine what his father would say if he brought home a vegetable. No compound would take her, not that he even planned to send her to one. What did he plan for her?

Dirk sat beside Candy and raggedly ran his hand through his hair. In her present state, she was silent, which was what he wanted. Yet not like this, this was too extreme, she looked like living death.

“Oh, Candy,” Dirk said quietly. He trailed the back of his hand over her forehead in a tender gesture.

“Dirk, she’s lost in her mind isn’t she? Hiding?” Damien asked. “I’ve heard of it, but have never been the cause of it or seen it happen.”

“Yes,” Dirk concurred.

“It’s not your fault; it happened so fast. You couldn’t have known it would happen.”

“I should’ve known. Dad would’ve known. I should’ve let him handle her. I should’ve understood her fears better. For all his cruelty and gruffness, Dad would’ve prepared her for anything. He’s never done this to a woman, an innocent. He’ll be so disappointed in me.”

I’m so disappointed in me.

“What’re you going to do with her?” Damien asked.

Candy lay immobile. A living, breathing, beautiful substance-less doll. Her arms and legs would now only move with the help of another, she was unable to support her own head.

“She’s my responsibility. I’m still going to take her home with us. This is reversible. It must be reversible,” Dirk said agonized. His head dropped to his chest.

Candy sat by the clear water of the lake in the warm sunlight drying off. She heard
the soft whooshing sound of the tiny waves as they lapped, like a caress, at the shoreline. A
frog jumped from its lily pad, making a small splash, and she heard the cry of a loon from
a nearby rock rising slightly from the water. She frowned for the briefest of moments, wondering how she
had gotten there. Images flashed within her head. Vaguely, she could hear the smallest whisper of a voice as it called her name on the gentle, flowing breeze. She smiled,
wondering if the gnomes and wood nymphs were seeking an audience with her.

She cupped a handful of water to her mouth. She was so thirsty. The cool water flowed down her throat, never once having to refill her hand and she gulped at it greedily, feeling immediately refreshed. The sun danced across the reeds before her like fire on the water. With surprise, a bowl of soup materialized within her hands. She sipped at it, liking the taste of the warm beef broth, it was thick with a wonderful meaty flavor and aroma, and she was hungry. Absently, she wondered where it had come from. Candy wiped at her forehead when she felt a coolness settle there. The feeling continued and because it wasn’t unpleasant she lowered her hand and allowed it to remain.

“Candy?”

A soft voice called in the distance, a whispering tickle to her ears
.

She hazarded a glance around her; the voice was louder this time. She saw no one. Perplexed, Candy rose and floated over the ground. She was tired. It had been a busy day, though upon reflection, she realized she didn’t remember what she’d done. Shrugging, unconcerned, Candy settled into the warm bed appearing before her with silken sheets. The brilliant sunlight was replaced with the calming onset of darkness. She snuggled into the softness of the clean, sweet smelling covers, feeling strong gentle hands rub at her shoulders. A moan slipped past her lips, enjoying their feel. She was safe. Safely tucked away. The deep voice that invaded her mind occasionally, watched over her, she was never alone. Candy drifted dreamily into sleep.

* * * *

“Any change?”

Dirk glanced up at Damien who ventured into his room. He removed the cold cloth from Candy’s brow.

“Sometimes I think she can hear me,” he replied. “She smiles sometimes. Other times, she frowns.” Dirk pulled the covers up under Candy’s chin, covering her nudity.

Wearily, he rubbed a hand across his face. It had been a long four days. Once returning home, Dirk hardly glanced at his father as he strode with purpose for his bedroom, carrying Candy in his arms. After tucking Candy under the sheets of his bed, he informed his father, who had trailed him, he was keeping her. Dirk’s gaze leveled on him defiantly, not caring if he risked his anger. His father said not a word, just gazed at him with a thoughtful expression. He then placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and left the room.

Dirk was happy he was able to coax food across Candy’s lips in liquid form. Though fretfully, he noticed she’d lost weight. He bathed her again, as he did every night, taking great pains to keep her from slipping under the water in the tub while he lathered her hair. He washed with tenderness at the generous bruising he’d caused on her arms; thankfully, the small sores were healing without infection. During the day, he talked to her and held her in his arms at night, cuddling her to his warm body. A few times he was certain she’d been listening, or at least searching for his voice.

“Dirk,” Damien began hesitantly, “I feel as though I should be doing more.”

“I did this,” Dirk interrupted.

“I did this,” Damien replied. “I was happy I wouldn’t have to accept the responsibility of her. If I’d taken charge I would’ve kept her from pissing you off. I understand how touchy you are about Carrie. I should’ve stepped in sooner. It was me she saw kill Darren. I wish I’d found her without your help, tried harder to track her down. I’m so used to my big brother riding in on his white charger to save me, to take over. You know I was waiting for you, I knew you’d come. I suspected the tracking device because you’re so damned protective. Even after all this time, you’re still cleaning up my mess for me.”

“I’m your big brother, Damien. You’re my responsibility. It’s only right you expect my help. I never regret helping; you’re important to me. I love you,” Dirk replied, though even to his own ears his voice seemed devoid of emotion, mechanical. His words weren’t a lie. Damien meant the world to him; Dirk was tired, emotionally, mentally, physically.

Dirk’s thoughts weighed heavily with him. Not for one second did he blame his brother, the burden of guilt was his alone to bear. Their father hadn’t said anything about Candy, yet Dirk knew he watched occasionally as he took care of her. His father remained quiet with his lips pressed into a grim line, wearing an expression Dirk had never before encountered. He wondered if his father was changing his mind or had regrets about who he was leaving in command. Dirk battled his own regrets. He was supposed to be hard,
Iron Hand junior,
what a laugh. He couldn’t even quell his compassion for a simple girl. She should have meant nothing to him…why did she mean something to him?

Fucking compassion can kiss my ass.

Over the last few days his touches to her body subtly changed to tender caresses. The first time he pressed his mouth to her warm forehead his lips tingled with the attraction he felt. When he undressed her, his gaze didn’t devour her sweet body, but lingered with longing hunger. A hunger that simmered. He wouldn’t shame himself further by taking advantage of her vulnerability. He was no knight, he was her captor. She’d been his prey, his victim. Now she was just his.

Dirk hardly noticed when Damien left. His thoughts and gaze remained centered on Candy.

“Daddy?” a soft voice questioned.

Dirk rose immediately and went to his daughter. “What’re you doing out of bed, baby?” he asked with concern.

The young woman before him was a petite blonde. Her long blond hair hung down her back. During her pregnancy, the ends of her hair had begun to curl and a ringlet settled over her shoulder. Her blue eyes, like Dirk’s, gazed at him with open admiration and love.

The doctor had put Carrie on complete bed rest when her blood pressure rose; she should have been lying on her left side. Dirk took her to a large easy chair and assisted her down. His hand stroked her hair. Even in her last month of pregnancy, she still looked so tiny to him, he was awash in protectiveness. He tenderly nestled his hand onto her protruding belly, feeling the comforting kicks beneath. He missed out on so much when Carrie’s mother begged him to leave when he was barely eighteen, thinking his profession and family life too frightening. She felt he and his mafia family were a danger to her and Carrie.

Dirk held Carrie only once in his arms shortly after her birth, then not again until twenty years later. Only recently he had admitted to Damien he cried after losing Carrie. The weight he carried, hurting his soul and hardening him into a cold bastard. He felt it fitting at the time, a boon to his profession which he excelled at. With the return of his daughter, Dirk was happy. Though he’d so much lost time to make up for, at times he was overwhelmed at where to begin. Thankfully, they’d become close within minutes of being reunited.

Carrie wanted his help while pregnant. They laughed over her many silly cravings that were indulged outrageously by himself and her husband; he held her while she sobbed during mood swings. He attended doctor’s appointments. Dirk had almost been brought to tears when she took a stand against her husband and demanded she wanted her father present for her baby’s birth; she needed his support. She loved Dirk. He knew in her eyes he was as much her hero as her husband Tyr. Dirk had rescued her; he brought her home where she belonged.

“I’m worried about you, Daddy,” she said. Her solemn, huge blue eyes, delved into him.

Carrie glanced over at the woman before her. Dirk explained to his daughter how the circumstances presented themselves, wanting her understanding. He took blame immediately, but Carrie didn’t blame him. Dirk knew her husband was furious with him for bringing Candy here in the state she was in. He knew Tyr wanted to help Candy; he felt she belonged in some type of care institution where a doctor could oversee her well-being. Dirk knew Carrie loved him dearly. She again put her foot down and demanded Tyr leave the girl be. Dirk overheard her declare to Tyr the woman was her father’s responsibility, and Carrie accepted it. Carrie remained adamant she knew her father possessed a great deal of compassion. If anyone could reach her, he could. She knew he would keep his family safe at all cost; they had nothing to fear from Candy.

“You need to worry about you and my new granddaughter,” Dirk said smiling into her concerned expression. He removed his hand from her tummy to cup her chin in a loving gesture.

“Daddy, it could be a boy,” Carrie said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t care, as long as you’re both healthy. How has your asthma been?” he asked with concern. She was a very petite young woman, her husband a very large man, and the baby appeared big as well. As her weight increased and the baby pressed against her diaphragm, she was often experiencing shortness of breath. Everyone took extreme caution to make certain she wanted for nothing, racing to do her bidding, not excluding her very doting hard-as-nails granddad.

“I’m fine, Daddy, really. How is Candy doing?”

“The same.”