Big Girls Don't Cry (25 page)

Lexie glared at him. Anger surged, replacing her fear, galvanizing her. “So you are a traitor? To our country? To your own country? You betray your country for what? Drug money? A coward’s money? With whores on the side?”

Mahmoud stepped forward. His eyes blazed with demonic hatred. He drew his hand back and slapped her hard across her face. The ferocious blow knocked her to the side. Lexie saw stars and tasted the blood in her mouth.

The blow had one unintended result. It knocked her loose from Vadim’s grip. In the split second that followed, Lexie ducked away from the gun at her neck and stomped with all her strength on Vadim’s foot. His shocked scream and the satisfying crunch of bone meeting the steel plate on her boot heel confirmed the success of her strike. At the same moment, she drove her fist into Mahmoud’s solar plexus, driving him back. With a fierce warrior shriek, she spun in a circle using the momentum to land a brutal kick at his ribs. Again, unsuspecting bone met her weaponized boot heel and he staggered back, howling in pain.

Taking advantage of their confusion, Lexie spun again and drove her elbow into Vadim’s shoulder, knocking the gun from his hand. It skittered across the graveled pavement. Sensing rather than seeing Mahmoud surging toward her from behind, she ducked and rolled from between the men, slithering across the ground. Mahmoud plowed into Vadim, knocking him flat on his back. Lexie scrambled for the gun, but with a roar Mahmoud threw out a long arm and captured her ankle. Viciously twisting it, he dragged her toward him, his face flushed with fury. Lexie put her hands behind her shoulders and with all her strength arched up. In a move that had flattened fighters twice her size, she drove her foot up under his chin, a ferocious strike that shattered his jaw and likely his nose. He fell to the ground with a crash, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

Lexie leapt to her feet seeing an enraged Vadim barreling toward her. Rather than backing away, she shrieked her warrior cry and did a back flip, once again using the momentum to drive her heel into his oncoming shoulder. Agonized pain mixed with fury flooded his face. His shriek as he came toward her was as fierce as hers. Hearing a roar that could only have come from Ahmed, Lexie jumped to her feet, then crouched in a defensive position facing the two enraged men. Their combined weight was five times hers and their fury was as dark and passionate as hers. She prayed to every god that she’d ever known and prepared to spring forward. Her warrior cry stuck in her throat when strong arms grabbed her from behind and tossed her high in the air. She flew through the air at least five feet and landed with an oomph in arms as strong as those that had thrown her. It took her a full five seconds to recognize that the man who caught her was Clint and that the roar she heard was not Ahmed, but Jake. She looked up in time to see Ahmed drive Jake backwards, knocking him to the ground. With an animal grunt, the enormous fighter buried her would be savior under three hundred pounds of solid muscle.

Chapter 25

To his dying day Jake would not forget the sight of Lexie in the dark alley captured by three trained killers. Seeing the gun pressed in her neck, he waved Brady and Clint back. Moving noiselessly, they crouched behind him in the doorway waiting for a break. He knew one false move and Lexie would be dead. In stunned admiration, his heart hammering in his chest, Jake saw her break free from between the two men kicking the gun across the ground. In a move he had never seen before, she drove the blond haired man to the ground with a kick to his jaw that possibly killed him, but definitely broke more bones in his face and jaw than the fucker knew he had.

The two men left standing were so intent on attacking her that they didn’t see him and Brady approach. Taking advantage of their focused attention on her, he flew from the shadows with a roar. Grabbing her from behind, he threw her to the safety of Clint’s strong arms and came face to face with the largest mass of human muscle he’d ever faced.

Thrown to the ground, buried under the crushing weight of the huge man, Jake managed to free one hand. He dug his thumb into the pressure point behind the fucker’s ear. Taking advantage of the fleeting moment of paralysis in his opponent, Jake thrust the giant to the side and rolled to his feet. Surprisingly, the massive man moved as quickly and easily as Jake did. They circled one another warily, waiting for the first move. In a brief moment of recognition that only men trained to kill understood, Jake sensed they both knew only one of them would survive. Knowing that in all his life he’d never had more to live for, Jake eased into that hallowed physical and spiritual space honed by years of relentless training and countless hours of meditation, the place where nothing but sheer killing might remained.

Jake feinted to the left, evading the huge fist aimed at his gut. He slammed his elbow into the man’s ribs at the same time, bringing his knee up sharply into his groin. The responding roar of fury was deafening. Encouraged by the blinding anger in the man’s eyes, Jake spun through the air driving his heel into his shoulder, aiming for the joint. The resounding shriek of rage confirmed that he hit it.

For what seemed like an eternity, but was only minutes, he jabbed, kicked, parried, and evaded the fierce fighter whose skill was almost equal to his own. The difference was the flying leaps that he and Anthony had crafted in grueling sparring matches. His additional advantage was his coolness in battle. Long ago, he carved out a sacred place where he fought, a place that didn’t allow anger, only resolve. Through the years, it became his most powerful weapon. The groaning man rose up on his hands and knees. As he came toward him, Jake saw the flash of the blade. He wasn’t surprised. There’d never been a question. One of them would die.

Lexie huddled in Clint’s strong arms, watching Ahmed attack Jake. Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure it would burst through her chest. Ahmed was too big, too strong, and an accomplished fighter. Afraid to watch but more terrified to look away, she forced her eyes forward. Little by little, astonishment replaced her terror. Jake was quite simply the most amazing fighter she’d ever seen. He was like a fierce tiger in the wild. Lithe, lean, stunningly agile. He leapt from place to place. Often, his feet and body cleared the top of Ahmed’s six foot frame, landing a kick or a strike from above or from Ahmed’s head level. She recognized some of Anthony’s trademark moves. If anything, Jake was more skilled, more powerful. More dangerous.

To her horror, Lexie saw the flash of the blade. She screamed out a warning, but Jake had already seen it. Grasping Ahmed’s wrist, the two huge men moved in a grappling circle. Jake clung to the wrist that held the knife while Ahmed struggled to twist it up into Jake’s chest. After several long minutes, when it looked as though first one then the other would break the deadlock, with a mighty thrust Jake slammed his heel at Ahmed’s kneecap. At the same time, he twisted Ahmed’s wrist using Ahmed’s own power to drive the blade up under his ribs, on a certain path to his heart. Whether the keening cry was a response to his crushed knee or a death wail, it was the last sound Ahmed made as he crumpled to the ground.

Well before, Brady had subdued Vadim with a vicious kick to the side of his head. Whether alive or dead, Vadim had not moved throughout the fierce battle between Ahmed and Jake. When Ahmed fell dead on the ground, Lexie freed herself from Clint’s arms and strode over to Mahmoud, who was lying face down in the gravel. At the sound of his tortured moan, Lexie kicked him over on to his back. The man’s shattered face was a gruesome sight. His breath came in traumatized gasps. Crouching down beside him, Lexie grabbed a hunk of his bloodied blond hair and jerked his head back, reveling in the hideous trauma to his face and jaw.

Lexie bent close to him breathing in the acrid smell of drying blood. “Tell me, Mahmoud? Did Anthony…my brother…really save your life?”

Mahmoud made a choking sound as blood bubbled out of the gash in his throat. He nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

Lexie stared into his eyes looking for some semblance of a soul. Seeing none, she tossed her head and allowed a slight smile to curve her lips.

“I see. That’s too bad, Mahmoud. But even a man as great as my brother made mistakes.”

She reached in her boot and yanked out her kama blade. She slashed the curved blade across his throat, carving a deep gash through tissue and bone.

Gasping in horror, Brady and Clint both dove for her, as if they could pull back the lethal blow. Jake reached her first. She glared up at him, daring him to reprimand her. He shook his head. His voice was harsh, cold.

“If you didn’t do it, I would have.”

He grabbed her by her arm and dragged her up next to him, holding her arm so tightly she knew she’d have bruises the next day. He snatched the knife out of her hand and first wiped the blade and then the handle on his pants. Stuffing it in his belt loop, he turned to Brady and Clint.

“Get their IDs. Hide them before the YPD arrives. I want to figure out who they are before it goes public.”

He jerked his head at Brady. Shoving Lexie at him, he ordered, “Get her out of here. Take her car. Make sure no one sees you leave. Go to the house. Don’t open the door to anyone except me.”

Brady nodded. Pulling Lexie close, he whispered, “C’mon, hotstuff. Let’s get you out of here. Not sure why. No one would believe that ninety percent of the damage to these guys came from itty bitty you. But we’re gonna keep it our little secret, right, big guy?” he said over his shoulder to Jake.

Lexie burrowed next to him, glad that his arms were so strong. The fierce tremor shaking her body threatened to bring her to her knees. She didn’t resist when Brady picked her up in his arms and hurried across the parking lot to her red Camaro. Never had it looked so inviting.

~~~

She stood under the steaming flow of water determined not to leave the shower until she washed away every trace of the hideous night. Shoving the picture of Anthony’s mutilated body deep in the recesses of her brain, she focused on the image of Mahmoud: his death gurgle, the blood bubbling from the gash in his throat. Revulsion shook her. She’d never killed a man. She’d wanted too. She would have many times in the past if she’d had a weapon. But that was a long time ago, before she learned to fight.

Forcing herself not to dwell on Mahmoud, she thought about Jake fighting Ahmed. She marveled at the memory of his powerful body, the ease of his strikes, his graceful deadly moves. He fought like a dancer, except that his stunning choreography was lethal. Like a sleek cunning animal, he seemingly chose his moves by instinct. The combination of sly finger thrusts to hidden pressure points, to unerring kicks and strikes to the most vulnerable places on Ahmed’s body, Jake was the consummate fighter. Unlike her when she fought, he moved peacefully, without anger. As Ahmed’s rage flared, Jake seemed almost serene, like he was fighting from a space that didn’t allow emotion, only deadly skill. Lexie recognized the lessons Master Wan tried to drill into her brain. Only rarely had she been able to achieve that level of detachment, to enter that place where Jake fought. Lexie thought with a grimace, she had a lot to learn.

She realized with a start that the water had cooled, was getting colder by the second. With a regretful sigh, she forced herself to leave the shelter of the enclosed stall. Energized by the bracing shower, she dried her hair then smeared gobs of her fragrant lavender and lemon scented lotion into every crevice of her body. Surveying her naked reflection, she was surprised to see few bruises or marks. Mahmoud’s hard slap across her face would definitely be bruised by tomorrow and she could see faint marks where Jake grabbed her arm.

She thought with a satisfied nod, she’d done a lot more damage to those hideous men than they’d done to her. She smiled at her reflection. She may not be the ultimate fighter that Jake was, but she sure as hell knew how to kick ass. She winked at her reflection. Three against one was nothing to sneer at.

She pulled on an abbreviated silky tank and matching hip hugging pajama bottoms and headed to the living room. Surprisingly, she was hungry. Starved, in fact. Adrenalin had that effect--among others, she thought with a grin.

Rounding the corner into the living room, she pulled up short. A surprised gasp escaped her lips.

Jake was sprawled on the sofa, his knees spread, his feet flat on the floor. Both arms were stretched wide across the back of the soft leather cushions. The fury raging in his eyes belied his casual pose. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to confront him. This was one angry man. And there was no question. His anger was directed at her.

Chapter 26

Jake gasped when he saw her coming down the hallway. He did his best to shove down the explosion of lust flooding him. Fuck. He should have known this would happen. He was no stranger to the testosterone laced after effects of a lethal battle. Killing and testosterone. It was a potent combination. There wasn’t a warrior alive who didn’t know its power. And the greater the rampage, the fiercer the need for relief.

Staring at the silky scrap of pink satin that barely contained her lush breasts and the matching low slung briefs, he groaned. Her long blond hair hung in a shimmering curtain of gold down her back. Her teeth gnawing at her lower lip betrayed her unease, triggering an even fiercer response in his groin.

“I’m sorry,” she said, heavy sarcasm lacing her retort. “I left home in a hurry after I learned my brother had been killed. I didn’t have time to pack ‘appropriate’ lingerie.”