Fate Intended (The Coulter Men Series Book 3) (23 page)

Chapter 29

The gun shots echoed in the nearly all concrete hotel breezeway. A second shot rang out.

It didn’t hurt to be shot, but then it didn’t ease the pain in her battered body either. Jane slowly opened her eyes. Nikki must be toying with her.

Looking up at him, his eyes were wide…so wide, she couldn’t stifle the little scream that rose to her lips. He grabbed at his chest, his gun fell beside her. Bloody foam bubbled from his mouth, his wide eyes going glassy with death. His body collapsed, face smacking off the cement, mouth open, but unable to take another breath.

She looked beyond his lifeless form…standing at the top of the steps was Trip.

She closed her eyes and rolled her head back against the wall. His arms were around her in an instant…so warm, strong, and safe. She wanted to explain, but suddenly her body started to shake, and uncontrollable tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

“Shh,” he ordered, kissing the top of her head. “It’s all right. Shh.”

She tried to lean toward him, but the pain in her head sliced through her, causing her ears to ring. She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling groggy and light-headed. She fought the gathering darkness, willed herself to stay alert. She needed Trip to understand she loved him, that even if her identity was a lie, how she felt wasn’t. Even if he was a spy, she loved him.

If she fell asleep now, he would be gone when she woke. She gripped his arm, he held her tighter.

“I love you, Jane. Stay with me.”

She allowed the words splash over her warm and comforting. She tried to force her eyes open, to gain focus. But she couldn’t. Her head hurt too badly. It throbbed and rang making it difficult to concentrate. She let her head drop against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat drummed against her ear. Tears rolled from her eyes as the comfort of black oblivion surrounded her.

“Jane.” Trip felt panic. His training did little to calm him. He couldn’t tell where the bullet hit. There was too much blood. The bruises and marks on her face left little doubt that Nikki had beaten her badly. He recognized head trauma. Knew she, at the very least, had a concussion, possibly a subdural hematoma. Her pupils were unstable, eyes rolling like a horror movie, into the back of her head.

“Baby, don’t leave me. Janie, open your eyes and look at me. You have to stay with me, baby. I love you.”

She willed them open, but it was exhausting and the light was painful. The pain made her feel dizzy like she had been spun. But she focused on his eyes. He was crying. He didn’t need to cry. She opened her mouth to talk, but the fog in her mind rolled back in and she couldn’t concentrate. She stopped struggling. She felt him wrap her close to him. His voice in her ear was soothing. A tender hand touched her cheek; tender kisses on her temple.

“Trip,” she whispered.

“What baby?”

“You saved me.”

*****

Her body went limp. Trip tried to rouse her. Panic rose when he couldn’t. “Wake up, Jane!” he cried. He checked her pulse. It was weak and erratic, but it was there. The arm he cradled her with was soaked in blood. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face. Nikki’s bullet grazed her ear and skull. It looked like a flesh wound; he prayed it was a flesh wound.

He never should have let her go. When his mother attacked her, he should have known she would bolt. He should have thought of that. He let her get away, let her come to this. He kissed her forehead. She was so warm.
Please God, please…he prayed. Don’t take her from me. I have to make all of this up to her.
He was tortured by the memory of her eyes. Eyes that looked to him with pain as he first made love to her, eyes that looked to him to make it all right. She allowed him to hurt her with the trust in him that he would bring her to a place of joy. And then he failed her. He touched her hand; it was like ice. Panic gripped him.

Police skidded to a stop in the lot below him. He could hear them circling the cars with the dead bodies in the lot. “UP HERE!” he yelled. He heard footsteps coming toward the stairwell. Two uniformed officers bounded up the steps. Trip barked before the first man cleared the stairwell, “Get an ambulance here fast.”

“One’s en route,” the officer answered. “Should be here any minute.” The officer checked Nikki’s neck for a pulse. “This guy’s dead.”

“So is the guy in the parking lot,” the other officer informed him as he came toward Trip, his holster unsnapped, hand on his gun.

“My gun’s laying there. I shot the piece of shit there. I need an ambulance. I think she’s going into shock. There’s a bullet wound to the side of the head.”

The first officer reached into Nikki’s pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Nikolai Sarkhov. You know the guy?”

Trip shook his head. “Not personally.”

He flipped through Nikki’s wallet. He looked over his dead body then at Trip, “A dead Russian with a UN security pass, a suit that would cost me a month’s salary, and another dead suit on a Honda down below. So, is the girl Russian?”

“Yes.”

“She dead?”

“No, dammit. Weren’t you listening? She needs an ambulance.”

The second officer squatted beside him. “She shot? She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Head wounds always bleed a lot,” Trip snapped.

The officer looked across her body to Trip. He frowned, sighed, then said, “Yeah, sure, she’ll be fine.” He spoke into his radio on his shoulder, “ETA on that ambulance?”

“Three minutes… you should be hearing it, officer,” the dispatch responded.

Trip listened. He could hear its howl. Such a beautiful sound. It came closer and closer until he could see the awkward box roll up, red lights flashing. Her crew jumped out. The officer stood and waved them up to the balcony.

The first officer put Nikki’s wallet back in his pocket and turned to Trip. “So, I assume this man was fighting with the woman?”

“Yes, then I shot him.”

“You kill the guy down below too?”

Trip shook his head. “No, he was there when I got here.”

“And you don’t know who he is?”

Trip shook his head.

“So, who’s the girl?”

Trip looked down at Jane. Her pulse beat weakly in her throat. Who she was didn’t really matter right now, he just had to get her help. “Jane. Her name is Jane.”

The police officer nodded. “I’ll have to see your ID. A detective will certainly want to talk to you.”

Trip nodded. Paramedics cleared the steps like angels flocking from heaven. Trip allowed them to pull her from his grip as if watching from another planet as they prepped her for transport. They moved quickly, efficiently, within minutes they had IVs running and had her carefully strapped her to the gurney.

“Be careful with her. Please,” Trip said.

“We’ll do our best, don’t worry. Any allergies?”

Trip shook his head. Another tear fell. He wiped it away.

“Any medical history…?”

“I can’t say for certain. I, we…haven’t been together very long.”

The paramedic smiled at him, a smile filled with sympathy. She spoke so earnestly, Trip felt his heart calm just a little. She said, “We’ll take good care of her. We’ll be taking her to County General. You know where that is?”

He nodded. She smiled at him again and they were gone.

A detective in a button down shirt moved to the left, so they could get the gurney down the steps. He moved toward Trip slowly, looking over the scene as if he was bored. He nodded his head in approval offering a good work kudos to the officers. He kneeled in front of Trip, his hand extended in greeting. “Rowan Coulter?”

“Yeah.” Trip shook his hand and offered his ID. The detective waved it off, turning instead to the officers. “Boys, put up a barrier, don’t let any press in. Touch nothing and wait. You’re about to see a secret ops cleaning crew go to work.” He winked at Trip. “Gotta love workin’ in DC.”

“Do I need to go in…and answer any questions?”

“I’m sure you’ll be debriefed later.”

“Good. I need to get to the hospital.

“When then, get the hell out of here, son.”

Trip didn’t ask twice. He paused only a moment when the uniformed officer apologized for the delay and handed him back his piece. Trip didn’t have time to wonder how often this sort of thing happens for the cops to be so well versed at dealing with the situation. All he cared about was getting to the hospital.

Trip called Frankie, who was already aware of what had happened. “That was Buddy Ray on the hood. He was the first agent on the scene. That bastard killed a good man. Sorry I couldn’t get there myself, brother.”

“I’m good. It’s Jane. Frank, she….” In his haste, Trip cut across a lane of traffic, a horn blew, he ignored it.

“She’ll be fine. You better pay attention to the road, man. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

*****

Trip paced the waiting room. There was no one to tell him what was going on. Jane’s care and status were guarded like national security secrets. Trip drank coffee and paced the floor. The minutes ticked by slowly, painfully. His anxiety was distracted by a commotion coming from the elevator. Trip wandered out of the waiting area to the hall to see what was going on. A swarm of men in dark suits escorted a large, stocky man with a thick neck and salt and pepper hair. The bear of a man carried a bouquet of roses, an array of colors orange, white, pink, red, and purple. He spoke to the man closest to him in Russian and the man headed to the desk, Trip assumed they were looking for information on Jane.

Trip stepped forward and was immediately accosted and moved back by three of the suited men. Trip twisted his body free, announcing to Viktor he was the one who got Jane to the hospital. Viktor brushed off his guards and approached Trip. He looked him over from head to toe then asked, “You did this to my daughter? You are the one who killed my son?”

Trip said nothing. Viktor spoke the truth. What could he say?

Viktor continued, “I had her safe. You put her in danger. You made my daughter run in fear. Now she is here.”

Trip started to apologize, but the man who was sent to get information returned. He whispered to Viktor. Viktor cursed and scowled at Trip. His eyes were hard and Trip had little doubt if Jane died, Viktor would probably have him killed.

Chapter 30

Trip didn’t know what to say, but he knew he had to say something. He couldn’t lose Jane. Not to death, not to an angry parent.

“Mr. Sarkhov.” His voice was bold. Viktor’s head tilted slightly, as if intrigued or annoyed that the young man had the moxie to demand his attention.

Viktor didn’t utter a single word, but Trip took his raised eyebrow as permission to speak. “Mr. Sarkhov?”

Viktor responded with a glare.

“Sir, I love your daughter. I would never hurt her. And if her knowing me is what brought Nikki to her, well, sir, it was unintended.”

“Unintended?” Viktor bellowed. “How do you ‘unintentionally’ blow my daughter’s cover?”

“I didn’t know she was undercover. I didn’t know she was in harm’s way. She worked at the apartment, how was I to know? Trust me, had I known, I never would have left her alone. But how was I supposed to know when
she
didn’t even know what the hell was going on?”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “You blaming me?”

Trip’s jaw clenched. “I suppose I am. Way I see it...you’re as guilty as I am. Both of us lied to her.”

“I tried to keep my daughter safe.”

“Intentions, sir?”

“Why you….” He took a step toward Trip, his fist clenched. A woman called out, “Stop it, Viktor!”

They both turned to find Frankie and Sasha coming down the hall. Sasha ran to Viktor and touched his arm. “He didn’t hurt Anya, Viktor. Nikki didn’t find her through Interpol. My friend, the senator…I got a call from him. Mr. Black was found out days ago. Nikki was watching him, tracking his every move. And when I made my weekly contact, Nikki was listening. He had the real Mr. Black killed him and replaced him with one of his men. That’s how he got to Anya.”

Sasha’s cheeks blazed. She glanced at Trip and took a large breath and then added, “If Trip’s mother hadn’t scared Anya with Interpol? She and I would have been sitting ducks. We would have let him into our apartment, and he probably would have killed both of us. At least this way all the plans were fouled up and we were put on edge. And….” She looked at Trip. “Anya does love him. She will be mad enough that you lied to her. Don’t rid her of her boyfriend as well.”

Viktor’s jaw muscle twitched. “Why didn’t your senator warn you?”

“His intel is days behind. He warned me with a phone call as I drove to the hospital. I’m telling you, Viktor, we would surely be dead if we hadn’t been spooked.”

Viktor’s face relaxed and he let out a long sigh. He turned to Trip. “You love my daughter?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“And your intentions?”

“I would gladly marry her…if she felt the same…and with your blessing, of course.”

“I would have to know you before I gave any blessing. But….” He patted Sasha’s cheek. “I trust Sasha. If she says not to run you off, then I won’t. But I will be watching you.”

Viktor turned and started to move away. Trip took two strides forward and stepped in front of him. “And, sir. I also want to extend my apologies about your son. I,” Trip lowered his eyes, “I would honestly do it all over again to save Jane, but I still want you to know I feel bad that you lost your son today.”

Viktor’s face flinched in a frown, his eyes glassed over ever so briefly, then he nodded and patted Trip on the shoulder. “You saved my daughter. And you saved me having to see my son locked up like an animal. God have mercy on his soul, and I hope He finds some good in him. Certainly there was some.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Trip added.

“Well, if you want to keep kissing my ass…find me coffee. I need to sit.” Viktor growled and plopped himself in a waiting room seat. Viktor looked as comfortable as an elephant on a pin cushion. Trip nodded and headed off for coffee.             

Frankie stopped him and gave him a rare smile and a punch to the shoulder. “You did good, kid.”

Trip shrugged. “What I did almost got her killed. If she hadn’t met me….”

“If she hadn’t met you, no one would have known Black’s cover was blown and she and Sasha would also have been found floating in the Potomac…and we wouldn’t have gotten the amount of intel we did get. Because Jane’s cover was blown, we caught them with their pants down…literally and figuratively. Investigators have leads on tracking organizations that front charities…people donate money to them for God’s sake…and they are the ones exploiting the damn kids. They will be shut down. We have the names of high-ranking officials in multiple countries who will go to jail before they go to hell. And…Jane is alive.”

“But my…”

“Serendipitous, my friend. Nikki was onto Mr. Black. He was within hours of taking out both Jane and Sasha.”

“How do you know that?”

“Sasha has a connection with Senator Mosely.”

“The southern guy?”

“Yeah. He’s on a child welfare oversight committee and has been getting info from Sasha, who unfortunately knows a lot about it. Anyhow, Mosely put his own mole in Nikki’s organization, and it was that guy, Deuce, that Nikki sent with a group of henchman to kill Viktor. Deuce took them to Viktor, all right…and a freaking SWAT team. They’re all in custody…singing like birds.”

Sasha nodded. “If Nikki had the opportunity to set us up, it would have been ugly. I assure you, Nikki would have made us suffer, and Jane would have suffered most. Nikki is crazy.”

“Was,” Frankie said as he put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. Sasha smiled up at him and blushed. Trip wasn’t sure what happened to the bitchy red head he had come to know and love. Her face was softer, her eyes red rimmed from tears and she seemed to be leaning on Frankie. Trip looked Frankie over and decided he must not mind. Maybe his jokes about hooking them up weren’t so far-fetched.

“She does love you,” Sasha said to Trip. “I never saw her so happy.” Sasha broke into a sob. Her hands shook. She pulled a tissue from her pocket. “Sorry. I am tired. I am not crying.”

Trip nodded, not sure whether or not to point out that she was indeed crying. Frankie pulled her tight. “This has been a rough one. I’m going to take her to get something to eat. Then she needs to rest.”

“I am fine,” Sasha sighed. “I need to see if Anya is okay.”

“You’re worn out. Your mission’s over; time to take a break. You did what you were supposed to do…. Now let’s get the hell out of here and let this guy go see about the girl. You’ll keep us posted, right?”

“Of course.” Trip shook Frankie’s hand, and then went to take Sasha’s, but couldn’t help but pull her in for a hug. “Thank you, Sash. You couldn’t be a better friend. Jane’s lucky to have you.” Sasha nodded against his shoulder, tears choking any words she might try to utter. She took a step back, blotted her eyes. “My bitchiness to you was never personal.”

“I understand. Take care of her, Frank.” Frankie nodded, and they were gone.

Trip got the coffee, but when he got back, Viktor was gone. The only person in the room was a hulk of a man in an ill-fitting black suit. He stood. “Mr. Sarhkov went to see about his daughter. He says you wait here.”

“She’s all right?”

The man shrugged and scowled.

Trip went to the window and watched the cars pass below.

The man’s cell phone rang. He answered it and said yes, or
da
, a couple of times, then turned to Trip. “Come with me. You can see her now.”

Viktor met him in the hallway. He looked Trip in the eye and stated, “They say you are a spy?”

“Not exactly, but yes, I work in covert surveillance. For private security, not the government.”

“What you think of that, Demetry?” Viktor turned to the huge man beside him. The behemoth shook his head and frowned.

“Deceit come easy to you?”

“No, sir. It’s just a job. I mainly do computer work. I, uh, admit, I was looking for excitement…”

“My daughter is excitement?” Viktor’s voice echoed in the hall.

“No. No. Sir, Jane is…”

“Her name is Anya. She will be Anya. She is safe now. No more deceits.”

“No, sir. I was saying…I wanted a more exciting job…J…Anya is special. She was the one who told me to follow my heart. She is why I even went into covert ops. I swear, she is in no way excitement.”

“So, you are saying daughter of Viktor Sarkhov is boring?”

“No. Jesus. I just…I love her. I love your daughter. She is perfect and beautiful and I want her.”

“Want her? How? You think she is simple Russian whore? Think she has to have a man to be something? Not my daughter. My daughter is strong, and smart, and…”

“Perfect. Sir, she is perfect. And I don’t want…I mean none of my intentions are anything less than noble.”

Viktor looked him over. Then crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Come. I have left her and I need to get back. You can see her. I will get to know you. Then I will decide what your intentions will be with my daughter.”

“Ah. Thank you, sir.”

He turned the knob and led them into the darkened room. Demetry slipped past them and stood like an immobile sentry in the corner. Viktor took the chair by Anya’s bed. He took her hand in his and said quietly, “I don’t know if you can hear
milaya moya
, but Poppa’s here.” He motioned for Trip to get a chair. “Poppa found your friend in the hall. He wants to say hello.”

Trip’s heart squeezed and he felt like he could vomit. He expected her to be awake. Expected her to be sitting up in the bed, her usual vibrant self. Instead, she laid helpless, tubes connected to her arms and in her nose. Trip looked to Viktor for an answer, but he paid no mind to Trip. He sat holding his daughter’s hand as he crooned to her in Russian. From the corner, Demetry cleared his throat and spoke. “They gave her a shot to keep her asleep. She breathes on her own. They have to rule out brain trauma.”

“
Da
, yes,” Viktor supplied. “Her MRI was good. The bullet wound barely nicked the scalp, though it took a bit of her ear. She had so many bruises to the head, they want to be certain she doesn’t have a bleeding brain. By putting her in coma, they say they can…
will
stop brain swelling. Besides she has a broken arm and two broken ribs. She is more comfortable this way.”

“That son of a bitch,” Trip seethed. He sat beside her. He touched her cheek. It was warm. “Jane?” No response. He leaned closer, his lips brushed against her ear. “I love you, baby. Don’t you dare leave me.” A tear dropped on her pillow. He rested his cheek on the bed beside her so he could feel her warmth, smell her skin. She would be all right. She had to be. He closed his eyes and was haunted by the images of a smiling, happy Jane. Remembered as she was this morning, smooth and naked under him, trusting in him to share herself completely. He could still feel her breath on his lips, feel her hands locked around his neck as he made love to her. This couldn’t be happening. This was just a nightmare. But the beeping IVs and the antiseptic smell of the place told him the harsh reality.

He could lose her.

No. Viktor said she would be fine. But then, how many times had he heard that? He remembered the housekeeper telling him as the ambulance carted his dad away when he was a little boy that everything would be all right. And it wasn’t. He only had six years with his father, six months with Jane. He needed more. Needed a lifetime to satisfy him.

He tried to brush the thoughts away, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to cry in front of the man he needed to respect him, but he did. He hid them as best he could as he sat in silent vigil with Viktor and Demetry as the sun set outside the window.