The Protector 2

Chapter One-16

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” he says with puzzlement in his voice.

“My life is currently in shambles, Johnny, and I don’t want you to get involved,” I mumble with guilt. I try to select my words carefully and take away the edge of the issue, because I really hate to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt. I can’t get myself to tell him the naked truth, because I can hardly believe it myself: I still have feelings for my ex who has materialized out of thin air.

“Am I right in thinking that you are trying to break up with me?” he asks with a cold voice.

“Please, understand me, Johnny. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s bullshit, Raven. What happened since we last met? Does it have anything to do with…?”

“This is only about us. This thing between us,” I sigh painfully, “will not work. Because of me.”

“You can’t do this to me.”

“I’m so sorry. I mean it. I can’t say anything else now, but I wanted you to know.”

“Raven, please.”

“I have no idea when this madness around me will stop, but once I get out of it, I promise we will discuss it. But for now, I don’t want you to wait for me,” I say with a dying voice. I hate to cause him pain, but I know I have to do it. I don’t love him with real love, so it’s not fair to give him false hopes. “You’re free. Don’t wait for me, Johnny!”

“I can’t believe this, for f**k’s sake!” he shouts, sounding more upset than disappointed, which for a moment gets me thinking, but my own guilt quickly overwrites all other emotions.

“Please, don’t ty to find me. I promise, when this is over, I will contact you.” My throat is filled with bitterness as I try to pull myself together and find my voice. “All the best, Johnny,” I whisper, and before he could reply, I disconnect the line.

I throw myself back on the bed, and with stormy emotions and chaotic thoughts, I stare at the ceiling. Just then, I suddenly hear the familiar alarm signal coming from the living room. I freeze at once, not so much with fright, but with confusion. I’m not sure what to do, as this is not the first time the motion sensor outside the house, sets off an alarm. Last time – although I was terrified – there was no real danger, because the alarm was only triggered by a fox. I sit up on the bed, and for a few seconds, fix my eyes on the door. Then I hear the first bullet hit, and that moment I know the answer. This sound, this rumble is deeply engrained in my mind. The unmistakable noise of a gunshot, the sharp bang as the bullet crashes into the wall. They’ve found us. Now they really have. This is the end – the bloodcurdling thought flashes through my mind, and I throw myself onto the floor.

Rafe

My eyes popped open the moment Raven left the bedroom. I always sleep alertly, so I even woke up when she pulled away from me. I watched from under my eyelashes how she tried not to make any noise, and from that it was obvious that she didn’t want any awkward post-s*x small talk, but meant to beat it as quickly as possible. My stomach jerks at the painful thought, although I’m aware that I’m only getting what I deserve. What did I expect? Was Raven going to wake me with kisses as I held her in my arms, and make me swear that I’d never move from her side again? You’re a big i***t, Harlan – I scold myself, as that was the very thing I had hoped for. I’ve had the craziest night of my life, and at one moment I even thought there was hope. Raven wanted me to enjoy it with her, and I fell to pieces in her arms. More than once. While we made love, I was convinced that this was more than mere s*x. I felt that we had a strong bond, that I had found something that was missing from my life since Raven got out of it many years ago.

The reality of the matter, though, is that Miss Bertone made an exit from my bed without a word, in that madly sexy little nighty, without even looking back.

I’m clutching the bedsheet, trying to gain my sobriety back with all my might. It’s f*****g difficult with the scent of Raven’s skin on my own skin, and traces of our hot love-making on the sheet. I sit up, dig my hand into my hair and shake my head. I must pull myself together.

That’s when I hear the muffled noise of the laptop’s alarm signal, which sobers me up in a split second. I jump up, and in a moment, get into my jeans. I pull the gun out from under the mattress, and put the T-shirt on while still on the first step leading downstairs. As the first bullet hits the wall, I throw myself on the floor. The first shot is followed by a second and a third, and I immediately understand that this time it’s not false alarm, this is dead serious. My heart is thumping in my chest when I think about Raven and realize our shelter has been discovered. My brain is flooded with angry red fog at the thought that someone may have given us away. But who?

Mac, holding the semi-automatic in his hand, is lying on his front in the protection of the turned-over sofa, and shouts my name. I crawl to the upstairs bannister, strongly hoping that Raven is in her room and didn’t have the idea to leave the house, or something equally insane. I break out in cold sweat and panic creeps up my spine as I think that she might be harmed, even though our lives depend on me keeping my cool. I can’t allow my feelings to take control over my actions.

Mac silently shows with his fingers that he has counted at least four attackers, and I point towards the back exit that leads to the garage. By this time, Gunner and Rita also appear, armed to their necks. Everybody knows what to do. It’s out of the question to get into a fire fight with the attackers, we can only stick to defence. Our first and foremost task is to protect the life of the target, which is Raven. We have to keep the risk of her getting injured to the minimum, and for that reason, the only solution is evacuation. We must leave the nest as soon as possible.

I approach her bedroom crawling, and I’ve never prayed so devotedly in my life to find her in there. I reach up and press the door handle. I push the door open, and the first thing I see is her terrified, beautiful face. She’s sitting on the floor dressed up, wearing the bulletproof vest, and she stares at me while clutching her backpack. Good girl – I smile mentally, because the sight, even amidst the new crash of bullets, warms my heart. This woman is simply perfect. A treasure I’m ready to protect at the cost of my life. This is no longer about the commission I got from the Bertones. Raven is a personal matter. The most personal there is.

I crawl up to her and grab her hand. Although my body gets a heat wave the moment we touch, I keep my cool.

“We must leave the house, Rae. Right now.”

“What happened?” she asks with a trembling voice.

“I have no idea how, but they’ve found us. We’re taking no risks but leave at once. I’ll take you down to the car, you climb in and stay put. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nods uncertainly.

I turn, and pulling her with me, crawl towards the door. It breaks my heart to feel Raven’s hand trembling in mine. I turn back, and leaning close to her, look deep in her eyes.

“I won’t let you be harmed. Look at me, Rae. Do you get it? I won’t let you be hurt. I swear.”

Raven gulps, and takes a few breaths.

“I know,” she answers, and tries to force a smile on her face. My heroine.

The shelter house is designed carefully; although not visible from the outside, several escape routes lead into the open. There is an underground panic room too, but I definitely don’t want to use it. We don’t know exactly how many our attackers are, and I don’t want to end up in a trap. I have no idea how the information transpired about the house, but it really looks like there is a mole among Emilio Bertone’s men. We are no longer safe here, but with the bulletproof car we stand a good chance of escaping. The door that opens to the back of the house from the living room – purposely – leads straight into the garage. That’s our only chance.

Raven

I give myself a shake and press my hands onto my ears as the rattle of the automatic gun is heard through the walls at a maddening volume. I collapse beside the wall, drop my head in my lap and wish to become invisible. I hate the sound of the automatic gun. I still have the vivid memory of my shop being shot to splinters not long ago, and even then, my life depended on a hair’s width. I’m exhausted and unspeakably tired of strangers seeking to kill me all the time. Why me? Why can't they leave me alone? How many more times do I have to run for my life? I feel angry and vulnerable, because, judging from the circumstances, my uncle hasn’t been able to find and eliminate the attacker.

While I am still crouched on the floor with my eyes closed tight and my hands over my ears, I feel Rafe’s firm embrace on my waist. He lifts me from the floor and drags me determinedly towards the garage. Keeping close to the wall, as we pass Gunner and Rita, the men exchange a few words, there is no need for more. Every member of the team is a professional. We’re not taking anything but the absolute necessities for survival. Guns and phones. The back of the T-98 is full of weapons, munition, and, last but not least, stacks of money for emergency. And this is definitely a critical situation.

“Thirty seconds, Rafe,” Gunner shouts, and points to the window. He’s holding a few longish, cylinder-shaped objects, and tosses a few to Mac perched by the window, at the kitchen. “Afterwards, you will have one minute to beat it.” Rafe signals okay.

“See you at the appointed place,” he adds. “No rest before that.”

Gunner nods, then turns to Rita.

“To the garage. Now! As soon as you see the smoke, you can start the engine,” he shouts to Rafe.

While bullets are constantly crashed into the wall of the house, Gunner breaks a window open with his elbow, and Mac does the same. Silently, he counts down with his fingers, then they both turn to the window, and with all their might, throw the cylindrical smoke bombs through the smashed glass.

My head is splitting, my stomach is churning alarmingly as Rafe drags me into the garage. As he opens the back door of the car and pushes me onto the seat, the noise of guns rattling comes again, then a shout, some swearing. I think its Gunner’s voice. I am petrified with fright, but Rafe doesn’t even shiver. He wants to close the car’s door on me, but I grab his wrist.

“What about the others?” I ask hysterically. Holy s**t! He doesn’t want to leave them behind, does he? He shakes his head and orders me to get down. He fixes his eyes on mine. Seeing his expression, I realize that he is operating in that military, almost automatic mode that I saw a few days ago, when the false alarm came. He is perfectly concentrated, focusing on the task with all his might, without fear or hesitation. It’s impressive to watch his conscious, confident moves. And to hell with it, I love even that about him.