26. Gavin

26

GAVIN

“ Y ou're fucking dead.” I hear my voice roar, but there’s no emotion, only the fatal promise.

“Not as dead as you thought! And neither are you, as it turns out!” Alaya laughs, dodging back as I surge out of the bed, streaking toward the door.

Literally.

But that joke’s lost on me in my fury.

My first hit misses as she flits back out of the way, leaping back onto the loft and kicking a chair into my path. I’m in the air over the chair and pursuing her as she takes the stairs in one jump.

My feet slam down where she landed only a second before me, lunging to the side as three rapid fists swish through the air where my head was only a moment prior.

Bounding off the wall, I bounce back at her, slapping her hands out of the way, putting her on the defensive as she backs away.

“Dicks to diamonds, you're as fast as ever, Gavvy!” she gasps, managing to deflect several of my strikes and sidestep me, shoving me off balance and retreating again. “You really should take a breath, hun.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. THAT!” I punctuate each word with a punch.

Two land against her guarding arms, tucked into her sides, my superior strength making her grunt.

“Come on, baby, you don’t look happy to see me!”

“I’m NOT!”

“I thought the same thing, to be honest, I really did. Figuring out you were still alive made me want to put one right between your eyes, sure enough. But then, I realized it was ’cause I was so damn mad at you. And I was mad at you because I still care!” she shouts as she leads me on a chase around the living area, hopping and skidding around the furniture, keeping it between us.

“Well, I’m not mad because I care. I’m just mad. And you fucked up, coming here and attacking us.”

“Whoa! I didn’t do shit!” She stops, her expression shifting to genuine offense.

It gives me an opening, and I rain down blows on her, kicking, jabbing, driving her back. She’s only blocking, dodging.

But I’m still seeing red and it feels like she’s toying with me.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

“I let myself in. You know how I do things. I needed to find you.”

“You found me, alright.” I wind up and swing.

Only I overstep on the round house, leaving myself open. She slips inside my reach, striking at me full force for the first time since she got here.

“Enough. You need to listen.” The thwaps to my ribs nearly double me over. She’s always been able to hit a lot harder than most people her size.

“Why now?” I roar, bearing down on her with my size to force her back. “All this time, you could have found me. For years. You could have had your revenge, been done with it.” I swing and I miss, bashing my fist into the wall behind her. The drywall explodes in a shower of dust.

“I told you, I didn’t know you were alive. You covered your tracks like a pro!”

“Not well enough, apparently.”

“It really was just a coincidence that I found you here, finally.”

“As hard as I find it to believe that, it doesn’t matter. You crossed the line.”

I dive in, tackling her before she can flee. We tumble, grappling. Alaya’s like a fucking gator in my grasp, bending, twisting, never letting me get a hold on her.

“God, I forgot how fast you are. How strong you are, too. So, so powerful…” she moans in my ear right before she rolls out and away, kicking off my back and bouncing on her toes.

I’m up and after her in a flash.

A knife zips by my head, and I strike it out of the air with the back of my hand. The next one nearly takes me in the eye, but I catch it just in time, flinging it back at her. She sees it coming and twirls out of the way, giggling obnoxiously.

I skid to a stop, reversing my momentum as she two-steps up the couch and flies across the space between us, her foot clipping me in the shoulder. Rolling with the motion, I snag her pant leg and yank to the side, sending her plummeting into the ground.

A somersault and a backflip take her back over the other couch, tipping it back to cover her fall.

Rushing around the back, she’s gone.

I only get a split-second warning, a rustle of cloth, as she flips another knife at me from behind the curtains. Ducking back, I throw up my arm to protect my face, taking the blade into my forearm.

But I’m still moving, tangling the curtains around her, trying to bind her up and pin her. Again, she drops like every bone in her body turns to jelly and slips out of my grasp.

“Dammit, will you hold still?”

“Only if you promise to be rough with me!”

“Not what I meant!”

Another knife nicks my leg, firing me up even more. This has to end. Now.

Feigning a slight to my right, I see her eyes dart to my knee, the old injury she singled out in our first fight, with Evan. She takes the bait, clearly expecting me to defend, to guard that weak point.

Instead, I rush her as she goes for it, her eyes widening at the last second, right as my fist connects with her jaw, sending her flying into the wall.

A gust of air blasts from her lungs as she hits the floor, coughing.

“Fu-hu-huck!” she half coughs, half chuckles. “What are you taking and how can I get some?”

This is all me. Just fucking rage.

And she’s going to get a full dose.

A glint of steel warns me of another knife as we clash again, and I’m ready.

One hand slaps into her guard, my other hand stiff fingering her wrist, and she drops the blade in a clatter. But her boot is already flying right at my face.

Throwing myself back hard, my legs splay out as I fall. I realize my mistake too late, taking the blow right between my legs.

White-hot pain explodes up through me, turning my guts to jelly. It only makes me madder, despite the queasy, nauseous feeling surging across my middle as I hit the floor, bouncing back and snarling a violent promise as I rush her again.

Snatching her leg before she can drop back, I spin, launching her across the room and over the kitchen counter. Alaya crashes into the fridge, flopping down and out of sight, grunting in pain.

I’m over the counter before she can gain her feet again, lifting her and tossing her back into the living room.

I’m raging, completely out of control now.

A voice that might be Hellena’s shouts for me to stop, distantly.

Or maybe it’s my conscience. But I’ve had too much. The past few months have pushed me too hard.

Fear of losing Hellena has nearly broken me.

“Gavin!” the voice cries for me again.

I don’t listen. Circling the bar, I’m intent on the direction I threw her, ignoring the obvious trap. Her kick takes me in the jaw, coming up from under the bar and knocking me to the ground.

My arms are swinging in my wake as I drop, deflecting another kick aimed for my ribs, the other for my head.

Shoving away, I slide across the floor, distancing myself from her to regain my feet.

But just as I do, she’s in the air, flying toward me with both knees out front.

The battering ram impact takes me high on the chest, but I’m ready, hooking an arm under her ass and flinging her back and away from me again.

Of course, the wily bitch turns it into a mid-air backflip and lands like a fucking ninja.

And she’s not even winded.

Unlike me, gasping and sweating like I just ran a marathon. When did I get the air knocked out of me?

“Slow down, old man. I just wanna talk.”

“Oh, yeah? I don’t think I want to hear anything you have to say after you shot Hellena!”

“I already apologized to her for that!”

“Fuck you, Alaya.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.” She tilts her head with a smirk, eyeing me up and down.

It’s only then it dawns on me that I’m completely naked.

“Although, after seeing the three of you in bed, I might wanna take your girlfriend for a spin. She’s a spitfire, Damon’s girl is.”

I see red again.

I shouldn’t let it get to me like this. But man, oh, man, does Alaya know how to piss me off.

She taunts me, and I see blind rage again.

“Don't you fucking talk about Hellena.”

“Oh, Lena!” she moans, backpedaling out of my reach.

She spins, causing me to stumble forward to compensate, leaving only the knifing back of her hand to connect with my throat, a slice that leaves me gasping and choking. I’m getting sloppy. Disoriented. She’s wearing me down.

And I don’t know what she’ll do once she’s gotten me out of the way.

Even if Hellena thinks she’s not trying to harm us, I can’t rely on that. I can’t trust her.

A well-placed kick sends me to my knees, clutching at my side. Rolling with the momentum, I sweep her leg, knocking her to her back. My fist is already soaring directly for where she landed, but my vision’s still a little blurry from the throat chop.

Blinding pain zings up my arm as it meets unwavering marble.

Through the bleary tears in my eyes, I see her shape loom over me.

Shit.

I’m done.

I see her finally reach for her sidepiece. “Get it over with.”

“Will you just?—”

THUMP.

A resounding whack echoes through the room right before I hear Alaya crumple to the floor.

“Dammit. This bitch again,” Hellena huffs, a smug grin on her face as she looks down at Alaya’s unconscious body. “And you! Did you not hear me calling for you to stop?”

“She was?—”

“Clearly just trying to get a rise out of you.”

I open my mouth several times to try and make any sort of comeback. Hellena just gives me that look that tells me I’m toast. Even so, she’s at my side, inspecting my knife wound and helping me to my feet.

“Go put some clothes on and bandage your arm.”

Must not be that bad.

Adrenaline’s fading. Thoughts are sluggish.

When I come back, Evan and Hell have Alaya tied to a chair, her head lolling a bit as she regains consciousness.

“Where were you that whole time?”

“Trying to find pants.” Evan shrugs, cool as ever.

“That… would have been a good idea,” I mumble, adjusting my sore junk in my jeans.

“Evan was at the top of the stairs, keeping his gun trained on her the whole time. If you would have listened to me and stopped chasing her, we could have just ordered her to stop and explain herself.”

“Which I was happy to do without the fighting or the gunpoint interrogation.” Alaya’s slurred words sound like she’s trying not to laugh. “Although, I do love a good sparring match, especially with Gatling-Gavin.”

Immediately, my head clears away some of the anger, the fugue of battle. No one has called me that in years. It almost makes me laugh right along with her.

“Do not tell Ora that one, please.” I glare at Evan and Hellena.

“If we don’t, she’s going to come up with something worse,” Evan argues.

“Hey! Are y’all gonna torture me for answers or what?”

“No one is going to torture you, Alaya,” Hellena barks, crossing her arms.

“Aw, man.”

“We just want to know why you’re here.” Evan backs Hellena up, his hand still on his holster.

“You’ve earned that much, for sure. You pack a wallop, girlie. Did I mention I like her, Gavvy?”

“You might have mentioned it. You wanna keep that tongue, you go right ahead and keep talking about her, huh?” I snap, still a little hot.

Hellena sighs, losing her patience. “Enough, both of you. You’ve been running your mouth and not said a damn thing since you got here. You’ve been jerking us around since the start. I found my dad’s stuff, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. I hope it’s been useful. From the looks of your little resistance movement, it must have been.”

“It’s been enlightening . Almost as enlightening as your telling me that my dad hired you to kill him.” Hellena looks skeptical.

“I wasn’t lying.”

“Oh, well, then I'll just take your word for it.”

“She’s not. I know her tells,” I grumble, regretting it the second I say it.

Hellena looks at me for a few seconds, a strange look on their face. Jealousy? Betrayal?

“Fine. So you killed my father. And three other members of the Sinful, from what we can tell.”

“That tracks. I wasn’t sure at the time who they were. But it makes sense. The same person hired me for those three.”

“And who was that?”

“What’s it worth to you?” Alaya grins, blood staining her front teeth from a split lip. Her voice is nails on a chalkboard to me now.

“This is a fucking waste of time. She’s just toying with us!” I explode, pacing the room.

“Gav,” Hellena clips, her tone sharp. “We need to know.”

“You really should listen to her and cool it, Gavvy.”

“I need to cool it?” I take a step back toward her.

“Yeah. ’Cause I let a lot of my anger toward you slide to be here.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you, Alaya.”

“You left me to die and you disappeared, Gavin! You didn't even bother looking to see if I survived. I was alone in that hospital for months!” All the humor in her voice is gone, replaced by anguish. Bitterness. “And I did it by the skin of my teeth.”

“Damon forced me to leave you, Alaya. He said he saw your corpse.”

“Sure. Blame Damon. Is that why you let him die?”

“What?”

Her wicked grin is back.

“You could have gotten in touch with him. Tracked him down. Even after you two became estranged. He was a stone’s throw away from you for years, and you didn’t bother looking. You could have stopped me from killing him.”

I gape at her for several seconds, unable to reconcile the concept.

“He… I…”

Alaya smiles, her eyes full of grief. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair. But you see where I’m coming from? Old wounds make it hard to see clearly.”

“Piss poor excuse for shooting me,” Hellena spouts off, glaring at Alaya.

“Ha! Wear your badge proud, Hell. You’re part of the club now. That just leaves tall, dark, and manscaped for me to?—”

“If you try to shoot me, I’ll end you, witch,” Evan snips.

“Speaking of shootings, back to the point, please.” Hell takes a breath. “Who hired you?”

“Same fella, all four times.”

“And are you going to tell us who that is?”

“Only if you ask the million-dollar question first!”

The gears in my head are turning faster, the pieces finally falling into place. “Why didn’t you kill Rachelle if she was your target? You’ve never missed a hit in your entire life, Alaya.”

“Bingo! Jock itch to jokers, I thought you’d never ask. See, something felt off about this last hit. So I did some digging. Turns out that someone had a vendetta against Rachelle.”

“Who?!” we all shout simultaneously.

Alaya looks like she might burst with the smug satisfaction of being the center of attention. “The same slimy piece of shit the Sinful ordered to hire me to take out the other three. Only this time, he was acting on his own.”

“Can I shoot her?” Evan growls.

“Come on, no guesses? Fine. It was Oliver Devonde .”

We all process the information in silence.

Hellena is the first to speak. “It makes sense. And it answers one question we’ve all had. Devonde is not one of the Sinful. He’s just one of their pawns.”

“At least he was.”

“That doesn’t explain why Damon hired you to kill him.”

“It sure doesn’t. You’ll have to ask him someday yourself.”

“He’s dead.”

“We all will be one day, even sooner if that mobster fellow keeps going the way he has been.” Alaya snickers. “Devonde must have done something nasty to piss off that Marco twat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evan narrows his eyes.

“You didn’t hear? Vice’s men hit Devonde’s place tonight. Blew the whole place up! I saw it on my way here.”

All of us freeze, Hellena in particular going pale.

“Tell. Tell was supposed to be doing recon there. At Devonde’s offices…”

We all explode into motion, Evan and me gearing up for a fucking battle, Hellena snapping on the vest I got for her and rushing for the door.

The three of us skid to a halt outside, pausing to look back.

“What do we do about Alaya?” I growl, hating every second wasted, keeping us from rushing out to find Tell. Hellena is drawn, her eyes wild.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll drive!” Alaya shouts, pulling up to the door in my Jeep.

“How did she…?” Evan does a double-take.

“Who cares? Let’s go!” Hell orders, pulling herself together.

With no time to lose, we all pile in.

I’m going to kill her when this is over.