Retribution (10 page)

Except for their final two
years of high school, her and her sister came home for holidays,
and special occasions, but that was it. That’s why she knew nothing
about what her father did to gain his wealth. She felt ashamed and
guilty about the whole thing. Maybe she was just purposely ignoring
the coming and going of men who looked like they belonged in a jail
cell, not an expensive suit, like Ivan. Even now, like every other
family dinner, there were up to half a dozen men sitting at the
table that she wasn’t related to. She never thought it was odd
until now. Most people have family, but these men, most of them
she’d known since she could remember, were always at the table. Her
father had many men, either patrolling the grounds, or around the
house, for security, but again, it never occurred to her as
unusual. There was a time she might have held affection for them.
Now she just plain hated all of them.

Throughout dinner, her
father carried on conversation as if it was a normal ordinary,
everyday, gathering. She wanted to throw something at him. So for
the most part she kept her head bowed, and just picked at her
food.

“Ivan said you went for a
run,” her father stated.

So much for being left
alone. That statement was meant for her. She brought her head up
and looked at Ivan. Her eyes narrowed.

He glanced away and
pretended to eat.

She was angry. One
bodyguard was enough. She didn’t need to be spied on by one of her
father’s goons.

“That is good, isn’t it?
You are getting better.”

Her mouth fell open.
Better? She had a breakdown in the middle of a public beach and
woke up screaming the night before! Suddenly she felt Ryan’s hand
on hers under the table. He gave it a squeeze, then released her.
She looked up at him but he never indicated he did that. She knew
why. Her father would not give up until she answered him and Ryan
was telling her to do just that; to say something to get him to
leave her alone. How she knew that, surprised her, but she took the
unspoken advice against her own wishes. She took a long deep
breath. “I did. It was fine.”

“Good! That’s great news.”
Peter lifted a glass of wine in a silent cheer and took a long
drink.

She really hated him. He
acted as if it was nothing, what she went through. She stared at
him for a long while waiting for some indication that it bothered
him that she was locked in a dark room and tortured, that she heard
the screams of her sister; screams that she will never get out of
her head.

“Next week, I’m having a
party. I want you there, proper. I need people to see that you’ve
recovered.”

Her mouth fell
open.
Recovered?
She was hallucinating, and hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep
unless she self-medicated!

He just started talking to
Ivan after that as if the conversation never happened.

She turned her head and
looked up at Ryan who had his brows raised to say, ‘well, that went
as expected’. She returned her attention to her food and took a few
small bites. It occurred to her then that Ryan Casey seemed to
understand how her father was more than she did. That made her
angrier. He’d barely been there twenty-four hours and he knew more
than she did in her lifetime. It made her feel very naïve, and she
didn’t like that at all. Was she so stupid not to notice, or did
she just turn a blind eye to it all these years?

She tossed her napkin on
her plate and stood up. “I’m going to bed—no stay. I’ll be fine by
myself up the stairs to my jail cell,” she added sarcastically when
Ryan went to stand. To her relief he stayed where he was. She
turned and left abruptly.

“She hates me still,” Peter
stated while watching his daughter’s back.

“She’ll be fine,” chimed
Porsha. “Girls like us just need some time.”

Peter smiled. “I guess you
would know.”

“Maybe I can talk to her,”
she further suggested. “Maybe she just needs some girl-time. We can
go shopping and just spend a day together.”

Oh shit
, thought Ryan. He had a vision of Kat tossing her out of her
room by her hair or pushing her out of a moving car on the freeway.
He’d seen the disgust in her eyes toward the other woman and knew
that she just needed a reason to explode. Ryan remained
silent.

The older man turned his
attention to his new employee. “Has she told you anything about her
captivity?”

“No sir.”

“Do you think she
will?”

“No.”

Peter studied the younger
man for a moment to see if he was lying. His men wouldn’t dare lie
to him, but this was an outsider. His daughter was an intelligent,
beautiful woman and he was hired to protect her, so he could be
loyal to her already. “What makes you say this?”

“It’s too soon. She’s not
ready, and might not be for a very long time.”

“She’s told you
this?”

“No.”

“What has she told you
then?”

“She’s told me that she
remembers nothing,” Ryan answered. He left the beach incident
out.

Peter’s eyes remained on
Ryan’s for a moment longer to try and read him. Then he seemed
satisfied that he told the truth. “I am hoping that she gets over
hating me soon.”

Again, Ryan remained
silent. He doubted very much that was going to happen in Peter’s
timeline.

He waved an arm in the air.
“I should have had a son. My wife gave me daughters—so emotional,
so dramatic.” He was serious but Porsha laughed as if it was a
joke. Peter smiled at her, that way an adult smiles at a simple
child.

There it was, the reason
Ryan wanted to pull his gun and put a bullet between his eyes. His
daughter was kidnapped, tortured, and left exposed for the world to
see, and he could only talk about having a son. He had no idea what
family was. “Excuse me.” He got up and left the table.

“I don’t trust him.” He
heard Ivan say as he walked away. He was sure it was loud enough
for his benefit.

Katya was sitting in a
settee in her room when he walked in. She had a lamp on the side
table and was reading a book.

“I don’t want company.” She
spoke without looking up.

“I wasn’t offering company,
Kat. I’m just doing my job.” He smirked and went back to his room.
He heard her moving around and she appeared in his
doorway.

“I need to go sign up for
my classes tomorrow.”

“That’s fine.”

“Do you have to
come?”

He turned and faced her.
His eyes studied her expression for a moment. “I think the beach
incident this morning is testament that I have to.” His eyebrows
rose. “And I will not fight with you over your frustration with
your father.”

“Hatred—hatred of my
father,” she corrected.

He nodded. “That
too.”

She ran her fingers through
her hair and walked into his room. Then she sat on his bed and
stared up at him. “This was my sister’s room.” She looked around.
“He’s removed everything that reminded us of her. I mean, you can’t
even tell that it used to have a feminine theme. Now, it’s just
neutral. I don’t know if he’s trying to make her vanish from his
life, or mine, like she never existed.”

“You still have
memories.”

She nodded. “My last ones
are not something that I want to hang onto.”

He walked over and sat
beside her. “And what memories are those?”

“I thought this was
crossing lines?”

“Talk.”

She looked at him and
pursed her lips into a thin line. “At first, I was blindfolded and
my hands were tied behind my back. It seemed like hours I was left
like that on a cold cement floor. Someone finally came, untied me,
and took off the blindfold. I was in a cold, dark room. It was
always dark, no lights except when they came to—to—”.

He held up a hand cutting
her off. He knew those memories were painful and she honestly
didn’t have to describe what they did to her. He knew from the
bruises she still had. He was already disgusted and angry over it.
He needed to stay on track and remember why he was here—Georgy.
“Besides that. Anything significant?”

“It also smelled bad—moldy,
and musty. The only time I really saw anything was when we were
grabbed off the street and they blindfolded us. I saw a bit under
the blindfold when we were laying down in the back of a van. I saw
a man. He was the same one who came in the room and hurt me. He
also brought food, water.”

“Would you recognize a mug
shot?”

“I would never forget his
face. Dark skinned—he had a birthmark here.” She pointed to her
right cheek, under her eye. “It was darker than his skin and about
the size of a dime. His eyes were unfeeling, dark, and they haunt
my dreams. I won’t ever identify him though, so don’t ask me to. He
had a deep voice with an accent. I could barely understand him. He
threatened to come back and finish me like my sister. I believed
him.” She shuddered and hugged herself.

“He’d have to get through
me first, Katya.”

She tilted her head and
stared at him. “I know you have skills Ryan,” she used his name for
the first time, “But you don’t know what I’ve been through, or what
they are capable of. It does damage.”

“You don’t know me enough
to say that.”

Her eyes studied his
handsome features. She supposed he was right. “Does anyone really
know you?”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“I only let them see what I
want. It makes things less complicated, and gives me the element of
surprise.”

“I figured that out after
ten minutes of meeting you.” Her eyes searched his. “That must be a
very lonely existence.”

“You get used to
it.”

“Again, why do you do that
to yourself?”

“I like things simple.
Uncomplicated.”

“Really?” she
chuckled.

“What’s
amusing?”

She stood up. “Ryan, you
are the most complicated person I’ve ever met.” She turned and went
back to her room.

He stared at the empty
doorway thoughtfully.

That night, the terrors
returned. She was suffocating and suddenly felt strong, familiar
warm arms around her. Again she clung to him. “God, did I scream
this time?” she buried her face in his chest and took a weeping
breath.

“No.” He tightened his arms
around her and lowered his face into her hair inhaling deeply. She
still smelled like roses.

“Good, my father won’t come
then.” She muffled against him. She could detect the faint scent of
masculine cologne. It was actually quite soothing. Her hands
pressed against his abdomen, and the muscles tightened and moved
under her fingers. He was hard everywhere. She could feel the bulk
of his biceps against her upper arms, and the heat of his hands on
her back. Safe, she felt safe. She breathed deep again, slower this
time. Gosh, that had to be a record on eliminating her night
fears.

He’d heard her soft cries
from his room and was able to reach her before she cut loose like
the night before. He sat on the side of the bed and touched her
face lightly. She bolted upright and gripped him tight. She
actually recovered quicker this time. “What was your dream
about?”

She moved back and stared
up at him. “It’s my sister. It’s always my sister. She was
screaming in terror and there’s nothing I could do.”

Jesus Christ.

“It’s so horrific. I just
don’t know how to get that out of my head.”

Ryan knew the screams of
the dying. He’d seen the senseless slaughter of people from
war-torn countries, from factions claiming right to rule. He knew
the pain of seeing children die and anguished screaming mothers. He
closed his eyes for a moment to wash it away. She noticed. A soft
hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes.

“You know, don’t
you?”

He stared at her for a
moment. “I’ve seen some horrific things in my line of work. Yes, I
know.”

“Do you have any idea how
much better that makes me feel? No one here understands
anything.”

“That’s why you need to
talk about it, Katya.”

She nodded and released
him. “I’ll be okay now.”

He stood up. “I’ll leave
the door open all the way.”

“Thank you.” She laid back
down and rolled to her side, away from him.

He looked down the length
of her, his expression unreadable, before he turned and left the
room.

Katya stared at the wall
for a long moment before she shut her eyes and drifted into a
restful sleep. The first time since her kidnapping.

The next morning she felt
surprisingly restored. She showered and pulled on a pair of
designer jeans and light patterned blouse. She was going to go sign
up for her last year of college today, and even though she was
fighting that familiar terror of going out, she had to push through
it. Besides, she had a very capable man protecting her. Speaking of
which, he had been moving about in the room next to hers, then he
left for a moment. When he returned she could see through the crack
in the door that he was dressed in an expensive dark grey suit,
blue shirt and matching tie. He turned and saw her, and her breath
stilled. Oh, this just wouldn’t do. She couldn’t be attracted to
this man. He’d be gone just as quick as he came into her life, and
she knew he wasn’t a commitment type of guy.