His Christmas Assignment Page 6

  “I’m taking you to the emergency room,” he decided. He couldn’t risk that she wasn’t seriously injured.

  She struggled in his arms, but her struggle was far weaker than what she was usually capable of. He easily held her.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked. She must have been walking toward it when she’d been attacked, so he suspected it was closer than his.

  She gestured toward the other end of the alley. So she’d only been cutting through on her way to her vehicle. But that was also the way her attacker had gone. Was he waiting for them at her vehicle?

  “Who the hell was it?” he asked. “Who assaulted you?”

  Viktor had just stepped out of his office. He wouldn’t have had time to send someone after her…unless he’d noticed her on the security cameras in his office. But he wouldn’t know who she was—or what she meant to Garek that quickly.

  “I thought it was you,” she murmured.

  Her admission struck him like a blow. Pain clenched his heart over the fact she could think so little of him yet—that she could think he could hurt her. But then he remembered her tears and acknowledged he had hurt her.

  But then a physical blow struck him, catching him off guard. It hadn’t come from the direction her attacker had gone. It had come from behind him. Had the man circled back?

  With Candace clasped tightly in his arms, he couldn’t reach for his weapon. He couldn’t draw his gun in time to protect her. All he could do was use his body to shield her the best he could from another attack.

  *

  Candace’s hand shook so badly that she couldn’t get the key into her lock. A hand covered hers, steered the key inside and turned the knob for her. The hand was strong, the man to whom it belonged tall, blond and handsome.

  But her skin didn’t tingle. Her heart didn’t race. How could two men look so alike and affect her so differently?

  As Milek escorted her inside her apartment, he murmured, “Garek is going to kill me…”

  He would have—in the alley—if he hadn’t turned around to discover the man who’d struck him in the back was his brother. She shivered as she recalled that intense look in his silvery eyes. He’d been so…

  Protective. She shivered again. Nobody had ever been protective of Candace. They hadn’t had to be; she took care of herself. Would she have been able to fight off her attacker, though, without Garek arriving when he had?

  She’d clawed at the man’s throat and kneed him in the groin. And when he’d been doubled over in pain, she had shoved his head against the Dumpster. But it hadn’t fazed him in the least. And the look in his eyes, which were all she’d been able to see through that mask, had been more intense than Garek’s. It had been murderous.

  He would have killed her.

  She shivered again.

  “Garek was right,” Milek said. “I should have taken you to the emergency room.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. Or she would be. She stripped off her wet coat and grabbed up a thick, fake fur blanket from the couch and wrapped it around herself. Before she’d left that night, she’d turned up the thermostat. Heat blew from the registers, but it didn’t dissipate her chill yet.

  “You were attacked,” Milek said.

  She turned to him now and studied him with suspicion. How had he known she’d been attacked? Garek could have been carrying her because she’d fallen in the snow. Milek was tall and broad-shouldered like his brother and like the man who had attacked her. With his coat collar raised and a scarf wrapped around his neck, she couldn’t tell if he had any scratches.

  “How did you know that?” she asked.

  He tensed and asked, “Know what?”

  “That I was attacked.” It was warm in her apartment, but realizing she was alone with Milek, she shivered again. And she had always considered him the nicest of the Kozminski siblings.

  He shrugged. “I just assumed…”

  “Why?”

  “That’s a rough neighborhood.” That was no lie. A lot of River City was rough, though. “A woman walking alone in that area is always at risk of being attacked.”

  An average woman. But Candace wasn’t an average woman. As a bodyguard she protected others. And she always protected herself.

  Well, usually…

  But the memory of that night with Garek flashed through her mind, and heat flashed through her body—finally warming her cold skin. She had definitely not protected herself that night. She’d left herself vulnerable to all kinds of pain and humiliation.

  “I’m not sure it was a random attack,” she said.

  Milek sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t…”

  She remembered how he’d struck his brother from behind. “You thought Garek had attacked me. You suspected your own brother.”

  He shook his head. “No…”

  “I did, too,” she admitted. “It was obvious from the way he acted in the club that he wanted to get rid of me.”

  Instead of arguing with her, Milek admonished her, “You shouldn’t have gone there.”

  She couldn’t really argue with him either, but she tried. “I can have a drink wherever I want.”

  “You knew Garek would be there,” he said, as if that knowledge was an accusation.

  She could be as evasive as he had been. “How would I know that?”

  “Stacy told you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Stacy didn’t tell me to go to the club.”

  “Maybe not,” he agreed, but his voice was gruff with doubt. She suspected it was more his sister he didn’t trust than her. “She convinced you to come home because she’s worried Garek has gone back to his old life.”

  “Has he?” she asked. If anyone knew, it’d be Milek—because he probably would have gone along with him. Until tonight—until he’d struck Garek—she’d thought he’d idolized his older brother. “Have you?”

  He only addressed her first question when he asked a question of his own. “What exactly do you think Garek has gone back to?”

  “Tori Chekov?” That was what he’d obviously wanted Logan to believe. But she agreed with Stacy. Garek hadn’t looked like a man in love at the club. He’d looked like a bodyguard on an assignment.

  Milek tilted his head as if about to nod.

  And she snorted. “I don’t believe that any more than you do.”

  “You don’t know what I believe,” he said.

  Which was true. Despite or maybe because of his usual mild manner, Milek was hard to read.

  “No,” she admitted. “But I can tell he’s not in love with her.”

  He arched a brow. “That sounds like what you want to believe.”

  Garek hadn’t told Stacy about the night they’d shared. Had he told his brother?

  “Are you going to try to convince me that he does love her?” she asked, nearly choking on the words as the thought struck her harder than she’d hit the asphalt in the alley. At least the snow had broken her fall there. “I thought you’d be the last person to lie to me. You know what it feels like to be lied to.”

  “My situation is a little different,” he pointed out.

  And shame gave her heart a twinge of regret that she’d presumed to compare their situations. He had been denied so much because of secrets.

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “Maybe he does love her…” Again the words choked her. She struggled to swallow before adding, “But I don’t believe that’s why he’s back working for Viktor Chekov.”

  “Garek works for Logan,” Milek said, and for once his voice was hard with defensiveness. “He works for Payne Protection.”

  She snorted again. “He’s working for Chekov. And I want to know why. Has he returned to his old life? Is he stealing again? Or…”

  “Or what?” Milek asked.

  “He went to jail for murder,” she reminded him and herself. How had she forgotten for a moment who Garek Kozminski was? She’d kept bringing up his past to remind herself. But then that night had happened…

&n
bsp; And she’d hoped he really had changed like everyone else had claimed. Of course he hadn’t made any such assurances. He’d let her believe whatever she wanted while everyone else had sung his praises, saying what a good man he was. What a loyal brother. What a hard worker. She wished he really was reformed.

  A grimace crossed Milek’s face.

  And she regretted bringing up bad memories for him. He and his family had been through a lot. But there had been different versions of exactly what had gone down. Most people said Garek had deserved a medal for killing his stepfather instead of a five-year sentence for manslaughter. He had only served six months, though—due to good behavior and probably Mrs. Payne’s influence on one of the judges she’d known.

  “Should he have gone to jail?” she asked.

  Milek shook his head.

  Maybe it was a reply. Maybe it was a refusal to answer.

  “Why do you care?” he asked. “You’ve made it clear what you think about Garek. The worst.”

  She couldn’t deny she had once thought the worst of him. Now she wanted to prove herself wrong. She wanted to be wrong so badly.

  *

  Milek was torn. He hesitated with his hand on the door of Candace’s apartment building lobby. Outside snow fell heavily, lightening the night sky. But it wasn’t the cold weather causing him to hesitate.

  Should he have told Candace the truth? Garek had sworn him to keep quiet. But Garek didn’t always know what was best for him.

  Candace was best for him.

  And that was why Milek had needed to hold his silence. But it wasn’t just Garek’s undercover assignment that Milek was keeping quiet about. He’d been holding his silence for years—too many years.

  But it probably was better Candace continued to think the worst of Garek. Then maybe she would stay away from him and stay safe.

  Milek tightened his scarf around his neck before pushing open the door and stepping out into the cold. The wind took away his breath for a moment, burning in his lungs.

  What a god-awful night…

  The street was so deserted there weren’t even tracks in the snow. His and Candace’s had already blown over on the sidewalk. And the street was snow covered, as well.

  He’d parked at the curb just outside her apartment building. He’d been grateful then to find a spot so close—because he’d been concerned about Candace. Now he was happy for himself.

  He hadn’t been inside her apartment long, but an inch or so covered his vehicle. He clicked the lock and pulled his snow brush from the backseat. As he cleared off the SUV, he noticed movement across the street. A man stood in the shadows of the dark building.

  Milek narrowed his eyes and peered through the snow. The guy was dressed too nicely to be homeless. Even huddled over inside his jacket, the guy was big—like Chekov’s hired goons.

  Could this be who had attacked Candace?

  Had he followed them back to her place?

  Milek cursed beneath his breath. His brother had pounded it into his head to always check his rearview and side mirrors, so much so it was a natural instinct for Milek. He wouldn’t have missed a tail.

  Or had he?

  Clasping the brush tightly in one hand, he headed across the street. In addition to the brush, he always had his gun—holstered beneath his jacket. He’d use them both if necessary. But the man noticed him, turned and ran.

  He was bigger than Milek, though, and slower—maybe because he’d been standing in the cold. Milek caught up to him and reached out, grasping his shoulder.

  The guy swung around and smashed his fist into Milek’s face. His vision wavered, blurring the man’s face. He noticed nothing of his features. The only thing he registered was the claw marks on the man’s throat. Then he dropped to his knees in the snow as oblivion threatened to claim him.

  If this man was Candace’s attacker, how the hell had she survived? And if this was the man, then he must have followed her to finish the job he’d failed earlier.

  Milek had to protect her. Or Garek would kill him. If this guy didn’t beat him to it…

  Chapter 6

  He shouldn’t have trusted Milek. Hell, he shouldn’t have trusted anyone else with Candace’s safety.

  If he hadn’t followed her out…

  Garek shuddered as he considered what might have happened to her. He might have lost her longer than two weeks. He might have lost her forever.

  “Who is she?”

  He glanced up from the fire burning in the hearth in Viktor’s den. Tori was the one who asked the question. When he’d seen Viktor a little while earlier, the man hadn’t asked him about Candace.

  Because he already knew?

  He actually hadn’t asked him anything. He’d only glared at Garek when he’d arrived at the house.

  “I’m sorry,” Garek had said. That was why Milek had tracked him down in the alley—because Viktor had been leaving with Tori and his entourage. And Garek was supposed to be part of that entourage.

  Viktor’s glare had become even fiercer. “Some bodyguard,” he’d muttered before leaving Garek alone in the study.

  He could have defended himself. He could have justified his disappearance because he’d been checking out a threat. But he didn’t want Viktor thinking Candace posed a threat to his daughter. No, Candace was the one who’d been threatened.

  Who had been attacked…

  Was she really okay? Had Milek taken her to the emergency room as Garek had ordered him?

  He didn’t doubt that Milek would have obeyed him—had Candace allowed him. Had she agreed to get checked out?

  “Who is she?” Tori asked again as she stepped closer to the fire and him.

  Garek had been standing there for a while, but the chill hadn’t left his body yet. It had gone far deeper than his skin. “I don’t know who you’re talking about…”

  “The woman at the bar,” Tori said, “the one with the dark hair…”

  He shrugged.

  “C’mon, Garek, you noticed her the moment she walked in,” Tori said. “Don’t try to bluff me. I know you too well. I also saw how jealous you looked when that man talked to her. I’ve never seen you look like that. She obviously means something to you.”

  Everything…

  The realization staggered him. But he shook off the romantic notion. He didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. He only believed in taking his happiness where he could find it.

  With Candace…

  He had been very happy that night in her bed—until he’d awakened alone.

  He forced a laugh. “C’mon, Tori, you know me. When has anyone or anything ever meant anything to me?”

  “Your family.”

  He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—deny that. “She’s not family.” At least not blood. But Payne Protection had become an extension of his family—an extension of him.

  “Who is she then?” Tori asked, her voice going sharp as it rose on a whine. “And don’t try to tell me that you don’t know her.”

  “I know her,” Garek admitted. There was no use trying to deny what must have been written on his face the moment Candace had walked into the club. “But you don’t need to know who she is.”

  Tori’s face twisted into the usual petulant frown she wore. “You’re not very good at this.”

  “This?” Relationships? He’d never had one—not with Tori anyway. They’d hung out as teenagers, but that was a lifetime ago.

  She nodded. “This undercover thing.”

  He tensed and glanced around the den. He wouldn’t put it past Viktor to have it wired. He looked more closely, but microphones were tiny now and could be hidden anywhere. If it was wired and Viktor kept the recordings…

  Maybe that would be the extra evidence Agent Rus needed to finally put Viktor Chekov away. Where would Chekov keep the tapes? With the gun—if he’d kept it. In a safe? Garek would be able to crack it; he’d never met one he hadn’t. He just had to find where Viktor had hidden it. In his home? Or the office in his club?
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  “I’m a bodyguard,” he reminded her. “Just a bodyguard…”

  She flashed him a snide smile. “Yeah, right…”

  He laughed. “I’m an ex-con,” he said.

  He had never had to remind Candace of that. She’d never let him forget—his former career as a thief or the stint he’d done in prison for manslaughter. He had been crazy to think he would ever get her to change her mind about him. But then he’d never tried explaining what had really happened either. Maybe he should have…

  Maybe he would have if he’d awakened with her beside him, in his arms…

  That night…he’d caught her at a vulnerable moment, her usual prickly defenses down for once. But she must have been so horrified over what she’d done, since she’d run off in the middle of the night.

  Why had she come back? And why had she come to the club?

  He wanted to ask her. Most of all he wanted to make certain she was all right.

  He also had to make certain she stayed safe from now on, and the only way he could do that was to make sure nobody in the Chekov family gave her another thought.

  “How does an ex-con become an undercover agent?” he asked sarcastically. “Like that would ever happen…”

  “Surely you’ve heard of police informants,” she said. “They’re usually criminals.”

  He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Usually,” he agreed. “But sometimes they’re just someone close, someone who’s seen something…”

  She shivered and stepped closer to the fire. “Something they wish they could unsee…”

  He sucked in a breath. He’d suspected she was Rus’s eyewitness. Now he knew for certain. “Tori…”

  She shrugged. “It’s not like I didn’t know what he was.”

  “Was?” Did she not even consider Chekov her father anymore—after what she’d seen him do? She must have been so disillusioned to discover the man she’d always idolized was really the monster everybody said he was.

  “Is,” she corrected herself.

  “You did the right thing,” he assured her. But he doubted she would follow through and testify. She adored her father and was too much of a daddy’s girl to ever cross him.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you going to do the right thing?”