Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] Page 14

  Christy was screaming for him, and as Lando ran he could see the bear emerging from around the side of the cabin. She obviously exited in search of them after killing Rick. Lando dived into the jeep, yanking his door closed behind him. The bear was rounding in on them, her bulk rippling in her hurry. Lando tried three keys before the engine caught and roared to life. The bear was a breath away.

  Tires spinning, dirt flying, Lando hit the gas and the jeep went hurtling out onto the overgrown road. They were safe. One last look back in the rearview mirror had Lando feeling sorry for the enraged animal. The Kodiak was on her hind legs, offering them a roar, her anguished loss apparent.

  Christy huddled sobbing in the corner of the jeep. Though the heat in the vehicle was cranked to full power, Lando struggled to remove his outer jacket. It had dried enough to the point where it would warm her. He tried placing it on her, his hand touching her arm. Christy screamed, terrified, shrinking back from him. She held her arms once more in a pleading gesture.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart, I won’t hurt you. It’s me, Lando; you’re safe now,” he soothed, concerned. He had seen what rape and even attempted rape could do to a woman. She was already so vulnerable and in pain. Lando couldn’t help but feel those men got what they deserved.

  Christy looked up at him. Her arms lowered from their defensive position. Lando could see her rational thought return; she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He saved her, and she needed him.

  “Please don’t ever leave me.” Her tone so soft and pitiful it made his heart hurt.

  Lando knew she didn’t just mean now, today. How could he leave her? How could he not?

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked instead.

  “He didn’t rape me. You stopped him. But he hurt me, Lando,” she sobbed. “I hurt up inside. My throat aches and my back throbs. My wrists, my wrists…” Her cries cut her words short and she clutched her wrists to her chest with obvious agony.

  Lando noted a few cuts oozing small amounts of blood from little scratches while trying to squeeze through the broken window. He took in her split, swollen lip. Rick’s handprints were on her brightly colored, red, bruised cheeks.

  Lando slowed the jeep’s frantic pace jostling them over the rough terrain. They approached a larger dirt road, Lando pulled over and stopped. He faced Christy.

  “You need to trust me, sweetheart. I need to see what damage he caused,” Lando said. He cupped a hand against her head and pressed his forehead to hers.

  Nodding slightly, Christy sat closer to him. She moved back on the seat, closing her eyes squeezing them tight. Lando pulled the coat away from her body; he turned her slightly and inspected the new bright red marks on her back. He rubbed a careful hand over her bruising throat and breasts. He checked to make sure the cuts on her body were superficial and made certain the bleeding had stopped. He kissed her swollen lips. Then very gently and with a great deal of tenderness, he felt up between her legs while offering her encouraging words.

  She whimpered, clutching at him. Lando was relieved there was no bleeding. He took her into his arms after wrapping the jacket around her. Christy placed her head on his shoulder.

  “Please, Lando,” she begged once more. Her tears flowed.

  Bowing his head, Lando sighed. He rested his chin on her head. There was no other choice he could make. Her pleading, as always, unnerved him. “I won’t leave you, sweetheart.”

  “Promise?” she asked, holding onto him tighter.

  He could almost feel the hope surge through her, waiting for his response. He could see it in her gaze, hear it in the tone of her voice. She knew he wouldn’t lie to her, whatever his reply.

  “I promise,” he vowed.

  Chapter 12

  Lando followed the dirt road; wincing with each bump, very aware of Christy’s battered and bruised body sleeping fitfully beside him. She was in more pain now than when the plane crashed, but instead of wanting to put her to a merciful end, he wanted to save her. She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t allow it.

  His gaze shifted to her as she whimpered again in her sleep. She cried out, begging for the mercy of another. Lando knew the man had shown her none. Her horrific bruises told a gruesome tale of one who possessed evil intent. As far as he was concerned, the bear had been merciful; if given the time, Lando wouldn’t have been.

  “Lando,” Christy cried. She reached for him even in slumber.

  Lando gripped one of her upper arms and settled her head onto his lap. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. I have you,” he said with tenderness. In a feather light gesture, he stroked his hand down her hair.

  Her hand settled onto his thigh and she quieted. He knew his presence helped her to realize she wasn’t alone; he was here. He would help her. To Lando’s dismay, Christy didn’t settle for long, as he surmised she would. She began struggling, trying to pull from his grasp. His grip tightened, holding her firmly but gently in place, wondering if she was in shock, fearful she was still in the cabin, thinking perhaps Rick had her.

  “It’s me, sweetheart, it’s Lando. I’m here.”

  “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to die,” she cried out, terrified. “I know I’m in pain, but I’m frightened. I’m trapped; I can’t hide from you this time. I want to live, and I tried so hard.”

  Feeling his heart wrench, Lando knew he deserved that. She was again afraid of him. Deep within her frightened, vulnerable mind she would be terrified. He’d told her before; the only way he knew how to stop suffering was to end it.

  I hope Rick and friends went to hell.

  “I won’t ever hurt you. I give you my word I won’t kill you. I promise to keep you safe,” Lando pledged. He gazed into her frightened eyes; he released his grip on her, allowing her to make her own decision. She pulled away for only a moment once his restriction eased. He smiled encouragingly at her. To his relief, he saw her understanding; his need to protect her, and her terrified pleas saddened him.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you,” Christy whimpered, her tone placating, her abused body slumped against the possessive grasp he placed on her shoulder, holding her to him. “My whole body throbs so much. Rick was so cruel. He was so much stronger than me. It doesn’t seem fair someone so large would want to cause another so much smaller such awful pain. How could he? Why would he? It makes no sense to me.”

  “I’m sorry he was so cruel to you.”

  “You’re here now, that’s all that matters. I need you.”

  “I’m here, sweetheart.” I need you, too, a thought said in his head.

  Lando almost slammed on the brakes as the notion came to mind. He had never needed anyone.

  When he had been very young he tried so hard to win the approval of another, to no avail. She shoved him away and shrugged off his attempts. His little drawings were trashed; his attempts at hugs were pushed away. No one answered his cries until he stopped crying for anyone to want him. Showing him nothing but cold disdain. He stopped trying and never tried again with anyone else. The pain of rejection had been so brutally hurtful. He had come to terms and accepted Christy’s overpowering need of him, yet he remained completely stunned at the thought he could somehow need her.

  What could she possibly have to offer him? She was so helpless, so vulnerable. He protected her. He provided for her. He had saved her…. She was his. The thought thundered into his mind like an avalanche. She gave him purpose. She gave him a tomorrow. A tomorrow. Lando wanted to wake with her beside him. He wanted for the first time in his life to plan for the future.

  He almost shuddered at the thought. A future? His future? Was it possible? He’d only ever lived for the day, for the moment, that was all.

  Your life isn’t your own anymore, it belongs to another, the voice reasoned.

  No. Lando thought. He possessed her. She was his. How could he, someone so much more powerful, belong to her?

  Is possession only for the strong? the voice challenged.

  Perhaps it wasn’t ownership,
but a surrendering of the heart. Not possession but passion. Lando wanted more than her passion. He wanted her acceptance. He wanted…he wanted her to…

  “Lando?”

  “I’m here, sweetheart,” he soothed, jarred from his thoughts.

  “Please, I need to rest.”

  “Very soon, sweetheart, I promise,” he answered.

  It was with relief Lando spied a small cabin in the distance. He drove toward it hopefully. The cabin seemed deserted as Lando pulled up in front of it. He realized most of the places out here were for summer use, or perhaps hunting. Their occupants would have vacated to their homes as winter approached.

  He stopped, gazing up at the small wooden cabin. With care, he disengaged Christy from him and stepped out of the jeep. Lando walked up to the door and knocked. No answer. He had expected as much. He tried the door. It was locked, again no surprise.

  Lando reached up and ran his hand over the top of the door; he felt great satisfaction when his hand settled on a key. He inserted it into the lock and entered with caution. It was empty. The slumbering smell of hibernation—scentless air, stillness, quiet, dormant yet not—was already apparent throughout.

  Lando went back to the jeep to retrieve Christy. He tucked his jacket around her and pulled her into his arms, carrying her up to the cabin. Once inside, he kicked the door closed and placed her on the couch. It wasn’t long before he had a fire blazing in the black wood stove. Lando covered Christy with warm blankets and noted her body still shook. Inspecting the cottage, he found a large generator outside, primed the water pump, and had the hot water tank operational.

  “You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Lando said, trailing the tips of his fingers across her forehead.

  He hoped she wasn’t in shock. He placed her shaking body into the large tub he’d filled, aiding the heat of the water temperature with boiled water from the wood stove and the electric stove in the kitchen. With care, he lowered his exhausted body in beside her. The water sloshed to the floor over the rim. She was too battered and exhausted to keep her head above the water alone. Though Christy was unclad, Lando had only taken the time to remove his boots, shirt and socks.

  Lando soaped her bruised body while cushioning her head against his shoulder. Using a face cloth, he wiped it around her lips and cheeks, removing the dried blood. He washed each scratch lovingly, cleansing them. He gave a deeper inspection of her wounds. He hoped the medicine cabinet would have gauze so he could wrap her raw, oozing, rope-burned wrists.

  When he finished, he held her pressed against his chest. Christy shakily took his hand. She placed the soaped washcloth again in his grasp. She guided him lower. When she put his hand between her thighs, she grasped his arm while placing her head tighter onto his shoulder.

  Tenderly, Lando moved the cloth between her bruised legs. With his other arm, he pulled her to him while he inserted the cloth with caution up inside her. He understood she wanted the feel of the man gone. She wanted to wash away his hurtful touch, his merciless attempt.

  “He can never hurt you again,” Lando promised her.

  He felt the warm wetness on his neck as Christy buried her face against him. He knew it stemmed from her tears and not the bath water.

  “No one will ever hurt you again. I swear it. You are mine,” Lando declared vehemently.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “Never.”

  * * * *

  Lando watched Christy as she slept. Darkness had fallen; the light from the flames seen through the glass on the wood stove produced a calming atmosphere. In the kitchen cupboard, Lando found a few cans of soup and tried to coax Christy to eat. She claimed exhaustion after only a few tiny mouthfuls and once again begged to be allowed to sleep.

  Lando was deep in thought. Christy needed a hospital. Real civilization was in their grasp. He found extra gas stashed away, no doubt for the generator. He knew Christy needed more help than he could offer, yet he was faced with a dilemma.

  He promised to keep her safe, though how could he when he needed to testify? He didn’t want to be running from both the mafia and the police. Lando wanted a new identity, a new life. Alone, he was capable of falling off the face of the earth, but not when there were two of them. Continuous running would be no life for Christy. He knew all he had to do was ask her, though he wouldn’t.

  If he took her to a hospital, she would be questioned about him. The police would immediately remove him to another facility. If the papers somehow found out about his identity, it would prove disastrous for them both. He knew she would say anything he wanted. She could insist she made it out of the wilderness alone, or that he perished.

  His people would know different. They knew him too well. One look at Christy’s innocent face and they would know who saved her. They would go after her. Even if she were to be placed into protective custody, she wouldn’t be safe without him. Even if they were placed together, he would eventually have to leave her unguarded to testify. Then the mafia would pounce. They would keep her alive long enough to get to him. They would have, in her, a weapon that could make him retract any and all statements. Once they killed him, there would be no hope of her survival. Or worse, they’d kill her in front of him.

  Lando now understood on a deeper level the amount of pain his ex-boss must have been feeling. Losing his wife and daughter must have killed him inside. No wonder he appeared to be walking death. He’d loved them both so deeply. The thought of losing Christy made Lando’s heart ache.

  Well, what a surprise; you do have a heart in there after all, a voice sounded wryly.

  Yes, indeed he did. Perhaps he’d had one all along. Even if he were to lose Christy, he still wouldn’t slaughter a defenseless woman and her helpless baby for revenge. Lando wondered if the boy was alive.

  “Lando?”

  Lando moved swiftly to her side and brushed back her hair. “I’m here, sweetheart. You’re fine.”

  “Please lie down with me.”

  Lando eased himself beside her. Thankfully it was a large, overstuffed couch. He would have been hard-pressed to nestle his large frame down with her otherwise. Careful of her battered and bruised form, Lando held her to him. Her soft weeping subsided, and she slept.

  Lando remained awake, pondering their dilemma. They couldn’t stay here forever; someone would find them eventually. They couldn’t look for help or someone else would find them. Lando wanted to bellow in frustration. How could one tiny woman complicate his life so thoroughly? What was he going to do? How could he possibly keep her safe? How on earth could he stop another assassin when he couldn’t be close by?

  Hire your own, the voice said.

  Lando almost jerked upright. Of course. He knew of instances when men were sent to protect the families of others. It happened all the time in his circle, out of necessity. Who better to know and understand an assassin than another assassin?

  Lando settled down. Absently, he stroked Christy’s forehead when she stirred. Lando knew of a man; he would be perfect. He hired himself out, preferring no ties. A real loner. His price was even steeper than Lando’s. Lando didn’t care about the cost. The man had a good reputation; he would honor his vow. After all, an assassin wouldn’t last long in his field if suddenly opting for more money and went back on their word. Decidedly a very dangerous game to play with people who played for keeps.

  It would be tricky contacting him. Lando would need to be certain the man hadn’t been one of the men contracted for his hit. Lando didn’t want to be a mark and walk into a set trap. Christy again stirred. Lando sighed. It was going to be a long night. Although feeling restless himself, he closed his eyes after soothing Christy’s fears. If he were going to keep them alive, he needed some rest; morning would come all too soon.

  Lando realized he couldn’t risk moving Christy. The problem of how to get the help he needed weighed heavily. Sighing, he drifted into slumber. It had been a long, grueling day and he never remembered ever feeling this tired.

  Well, there
was that one time…the voice quietly reminded. Lando was asleep.

  Chapter 13

  “Lando, I feel ridiculous,” Christy complained.

  They were in the jeep, driving with deliberated care. Lando was mindful of Christy’s sore body. He looked over at her and smiled. He resisted the urge to laugh. Most certainly she looked ridiculous, yet he was positive no one would recognize her. The cabin was equipped with only men’s clothing and they must have been very robust men. The shirt she wore looked like a tent on her slight frame. Lando used rope to keep her pants up. Every time she stood they dropped to her ankles. Though Lando didn’t mind, he felt she was too battered for any type of play.

  On her feet, she wore three pairs of thick, mismatched socks. It still didn’t keep her from clomping in the man’s size eleven boots she sported on her tiny feet. On her head, she wore a dark blue cap to cover her hair. If they were to run into anyone, Lando didn’t want word of what she looked like finding its way into dangerous ears. He wanted her completely unrecognizable and he felt he succeeded.

  “Don’t you think the soot was overkill?” she also whined, glancing at herself in the rearview mirror.

  At that Lando did laugh. He had smeared the soot over Christy’s chin and upper lip, hoping to give the appearance of a five o’clock shadow. Instead, she looked like a messy youth.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he soothed, noting her dark, glaring gaze. “Once we get back, you can have a hot bath.”

  “Why couldn’t I have stayed at the cabin?” she asked. “I appreciate your deep protectiveness and that you want me close every single second, but if you keep this up we may develop issues.”

  “I’ve already explained; you’re not well enough to be left alone.”