Retribution (4 page)

Several men met him at the
front door and unloaded his luggage. Apparently, the decision was
made. He was hired. Yet, here he was still stretching out the
introduction when Ryan wanted to get started, but the man was doing
his best to try and read him. Again, useless.

“I’m only letting you know
this because she will not be so receptive to you. I’d go myself,
but as I said she will not see me yet,” Peter continued.

“I understand,” Ryan said.
It seemed an appropriate thing to say even though he didn’t mean
it.

His phone rang and he
nodded toward Ivan again. “Get him settled.”

“Yes sir,” Ivan said
evenly. “This way Mr. Casey.” Ivan opened the door with one hand
and handed him back his guns with the other.

Ryan holstered his weapons
under his suit jacket and glanced back at Peter who was now
speaking on the phone with his back to them. He was dismissed as
easily as his affection for his family. That was a man who demanded
loyalty and having a family gave the preface that he was normal.
Ryan doubted very much that he knew what love for family was. It
just wasn’t good for his image that someone could take his
daughters so easily. He turned away grinding his teeth together to
bite back the anger and hate he felt welling up in him
again.

When Ryan walked into the
hospital an hour later and inquired about Katya Nickolov the woman
at the desk took a moment to answer him. He knew what he looked
like to the opposite sex and was arrogant about it. It helped him
in his line of work on many occasions. However, he never let
himself get distracted to the point where it got in the way of a
job especially when there was so much at risk for him being
focused. “Miss Katya Nickolov?” he repeated a little more
clipped.

She snapped her jaw shut.
“Oh, yes, of course—sorry.” She quickly typed the name in the
computer with her cheeks starting to pink up. “Do you have
ID?”

Ryan pulled out his wallet
and showed her his driver’s license. His name must’ve been on the
list of visitors because a few minutes later he was being led to a
private room. “I also need to find another exit out of here. My
client needs to avoid the reporters.”

“Oh, of course.” She told
him the location of the staff door.

“Thank you,” he answered
politely and then he called the driver and told him where to park
the car.

“I can show you after you
get Mrs. Nickolov,” she said eagerly.

“I’ll be fine. Where’s her
room?”

The nurse jumped up. “I’ll
show you.” She grinned.

Twice the nurse glanced
over her shoulder and gave him a small flirtatious smile. He
ignored it. He didn’t have time for this. In fact, it just
irritated him. She didn’t even have to show him where Katya
Nickolov was. He could read the numbers on the door himself for
fuck sakes.

Two of Peter’s men stood
guard outside. They stepped aside when they saw him. One of them
speaking on his phone and nodding when he set his eyes on him.
“He’s here now.” He reached over and opened the door. Obviously
they were alerted to who he was. The nurse gave them an unsure look
and waved her arm toward the open doorway of the room asking if
there was anything else she could do. Her eyes told him that
statement meant anything. He mumbled ‘no thanks’ and went in
pretending not to see her disappointment.

He stopped suddenly when
he entered the hospital room. He wasn’t prepared for the woman
sitting alone in a chair looking out the window. He’d seen plenty
of photographs of her and knew she was exceedingly beautiful, but
what he saw now shocked him. Even though he’d been trained to keep
what little conscience, and emotions he had, out of a job, his
insides heated up in anger. There were no photographs of her since
her recovery, just the blurry distant footage of her being taken to
the hospital in a stretcher, and it was obvious why. The torture
that she endured days ago, was still physically blatant. He
actually stilled his breath looking at her. He may have done his
share of killing over the years, but
never
women and children. In fact,
he’d never raised a hand to a woman in his life. How some men could
do that just made them cowards.

She spoke without taking
her eyes from the window. “My father sent you, or you wouldn’t have
made it past the two mindless idiots.”

It wasn’t phrased in
question but he felt the need to respond. “Yes ma’am.” Her voice
was calm, but there was an underlying tone. She was angry and had
every right to be. There was a nudge of respect towards her at
those words. Anyone who’d been through what she had would be
traumatized beyond belief—a shrinking violet. Yet, here she was,
angry as hell. Well, if it helped her deal with what she’d gone
through, he sure as hell wasn’t going to interfere.

She sighed and turned her
face toward him. Her eyes went down the length of him, assessing
him. He certainly didn’t look like one of her father’s usual
brainless dolts. In fact nothing about him was familiar to them.
Now, she knew that he was an outsider. She wanted to feel relief,
but God only knows where her father dug him up. “Then you are most
likely my new protection. Something I didn’t agree to.”

He saw that her left eye
was still slightly swollen, and there were fading bruises on her
neck and the visible skin of her cheek. She also had a small
bandage on her left temple. He knew she had a busted cheek bone so
that eye would have been swollen shut when they found her. She was
actually healing nicely. The marks would be gone within a week. The
psychological damage would take longer. “I am.” There was a slight
lift of her chin. She still had her pride. They didn’t destroy
that. Good.

She knew she looked
terrible, and he was doing his best to hide his surprise, but it
still made her feel horrible. She was determined not to show it.
“He told me he was going to. With my father being who he is, I
don’t have a choice.”

“I was
informed.”

“I’m not talking about his
seat on council,” she added with disgust.

“Me either.”

She paused and stared at
him. “Are you a criminal?”

“No.” He knew why she was
asking. It was because of who her father was and the thugs he had
working for him. No, he wasn’t like any of them, yet he still took
the job.

“Have you ever been
arrested?”

“No.”

She looked confused. “Yet,
you are still here despite that, and my disapproval.”

He never said anything that
time. There was some sarcasm in her tone, but again, he didn’t
care. She could be as unpleasant as she wanted, he wasn’t
leaving.

Her eyes went over him
again. “You are not his usual hire then. Are you
Russian?”

“Half,” he answered
truthfully. He had black hair and grey eyes, but his mother was
French. His size came from his Russian father who was police
detective for twenty years, five of it in Moscow for the FSB,
before he wanted a change, moved to the states, met his mother, and
married. He was a good man even though a FSB operative had a
reputation of hiring everything but. Maybe his mother changed him,
who knew.

“That would explain his
interest in you. My father would only hire a Russian to watch me.
He thinks there’s loyalty in that. How stupid. There are evil
people in all cultures and races.” She adjusted her arm that was in
a sling before standing up showing some difficulty at the change in
posture. She was hurting but determined not to look weak in front
of him. She walked up to him, tilted her head up, and looked him in
the eyes. “
Vy govoríte
po-rússki
?”
Do
you speak Russian?

“Da. Beglo.” Yes.
Fluently.

She stared at him a moment
before she spoke again. She honestly didn’t expect that he knew
Russian, but she did her best to keep the surprise out of her
expression. His dialect was flawless. This man was
definitely
different.
The more she stared at him, with him looking back at her
unblinking, she knew, he was high end—expensive. Everything about
him screamed professional—elite. It wasn’t just his demeanor, it
was the cut of his suit, his polished shoes and the arrogant jut of
his jaw, but most importantly, his build. He took care of himself.
He was also extremely self-assured, but had the poise of a man that
could back it up. Not like her father’s men who were arrogant
because of his empire and the fact they worked for him.
Where the hell did papa find you?
“Well, no matter how talented you are or how much
money he was paying you. No matter if there were cheaper more
talented men available. It’s his way of trying to get me to forgive
him. It won’t happen. I hope he rots in hell.”

He actually had to suppress
a grin. Angry, didn’t seem to come close to the emotion she was
emitting towards her father. Right now, it was pure hatred. “I’m
not interested in getting you to forgive him. I’m here to protect
you.”

She wore a blue flower
printed dress that came to mid-calf, and matching sandals. Her long
dark hair was pulled back off her brow with a simple clip and had a
natural wave to it. Her eyes, when she set them on him were a deep
green. She was beautiful, even looking as battered as she was. “Is
this all for you?” He indicated to the suitcase, packed and laying
on the bed. He purposely didn’t feed into her anger for her father.
He was a professional, and would keep the conversation as such even
if he shared her views. He had one focus on this job and he would
stick to it. He couldn’t complicate this.

She pinched her lips
together and considered him for a moment before she answered.
“Yes.” She put on a large pair of sunglasses to hide the condition
of her eye. It did little for the rest of the bruising on her
face.

“My name is Ryan Casey Miss
Nickolov.”

“Casey?” She tilted her
head. “Not Russian.”

“My father altered it when
he moved from Moscow to Chicago. It used to be Kasianenko.” It was
common for people to do that when they came from other countries so
they had a better chance at getting jobs. He lifted the suitcase
off the bed while still studying her. She looked down at her feet
for a moment as if to regain some control. He could see it, if only
for a moment. She was definitely overwrought, not only physically,
but emotionally as well.

When she initially walked
toward him, speaking to him in Russian, he noticed the bruises on
her neck started to look like hand prints. It had been several days
and they were still distinct. It looked like she tried to cover
them with makeup, but they were still quite visible.
Jesus, she must’ve gone through
hell
, he thought, feeling a tweak of
anger. “The car is parked around back. There are reporters waiting
out front,” he said steadily.

“Thanks for that.” She
honestly couldn’t face the public in her fragile state, especially
with the media attention the incident brought. Of course somehow
her father’s reputation remained intact, but she knew the truth
now. Nothing could change how she felt about him and that it was
his fault she was now an only child.

“Shall we?” He gestured
toward the door. He gripped her bag in his other hand. It was
lighter than he thought it would be. He actually expected at least
two more and heavier for a woman of her wealth. “Shouldn’t you be
in a wheelchair?” he asked as he opened the door. The two men
guarding her door were nowhere to be seen. They were obviously
ordered to leave when he showed up.

“I refused it.” She stepped
by him.

“Usually they don’t let you
do that.” Hospitals are usually quite strict on that policy due to
liability issues.

“I was firm,” she said
without looking at him. She also refused the nurse escort. The same
nurse that was all goggle-eyed and drooling like one of Pavlov’s
dogs at Mr. Casey only moments ago; like she needed to be tripping
over the slobbering woman. Oh yes, she saw it but pretended not to.
It was funny in a way because she was quite pretty, but he seemed
annoyed at the attention instead of flattered by it. She knew from
that first few seconds, that this man was more intelligent than the
men her father hired.

“Paperwork?”

“Already taken care of. I
even signed a ridiculous waiver in case I trip and land on my face
so I wouldn’t sue the hospital. How stupid. If I’m well enough to
go home, I can walk for heaven’s sake!”

Ryan suppressed a smile. He
was sure the Nickolov reputation came out when she refused the
wheelchair. He had to give it to her though. She kept her head
high. She walked proudly beside him as they left the hospital, and
unless you were trained to notice it, the limp she tried to hide
wasn’t that noticeable. At least they didn’t break her. God only
knows what she went through, but she was still fighting the trauma.
It was a good thing. He knew now that she would beat this even if
it took years. He actually wanted to cup her elbow and help her,
but he knew from the first few moments of meeting her, that she
would be offended at the offer. She wanted to leave on her own two
feet and he was going to give her that grace.

Katya was relieved when she
spotted the long dark polished grey limousine with tinted windows.
It was waiting right where he said it would be as they exited a
staff door.