War(24)

I was so intent on reaching my car, I didn’t notice the person in front of me until I ran directly in a solid wall of flesh.

I jumped back, startled, and then met the eyes of the man who had started all of this.





Fourteen





Priest



For less than a split second she looked as relieved as I felt.

I’d gone back and forth with myself about seeking her out, and when I’d finally decided to, I’d gone to her house, seen the buzz of activity and police, and assumed the worst.

It had taken more than one favor to get information about what had happened, favors I probably couldn’t afford to give and had no assurance I’d be able to fulfill. But now, seeing her, touching her, knowing she was alive, was worth any cost.

Milan didn’t feel the same way.

She’d looked almost happy to see me in those first moments, but now, she watched me though anger-tinged eyes. There was sadness there, too, but the anger was the most obvious of her emotions.

It was only after she’d twisted away that I realized I had reached up to touch her. Instantly, I missed the feel of her against my hands, but I didn’t try to touch her again. Instead, I watched as she moved, taking long strides, or as long as she could. Everything about screamed her rage, her hurt, and even in the darkness of the dimly lit parking lot, her emotions were clear.

“Where are you going, Milan?” I called after she’d taken a few steps.

She didn’t break her stride and instead continued on her path, headed directly toward her car.

I watched her retreating back, considering my options. I’d dealt with my fair share of angry, grief-stricken women. A part of my business that I didn’t too much care for, but that I handled nonetheless. It had always been easy, though. I hadn’t cared for the women or their grief, so the emotion didn’t touch me.

I cared for her, though. I didn’t know why, how, but I knew that I did. And seeing her grief, her anger, moved me, made me want to take them away.

Something I couldn’t do if she was gone, and while I had been musing, Milan had gotten even closer to her vehicle. She didn’t look inclined to stop, so I moved quickly at a not-quite run and stepped into her path.

She bumped against me but kept going, her lips pursed, her face set in a stubborn expression that told me she would go through me if she had to.

She would have to.

I didn’t touch her, nor did I move, not even when she turned her shoulder into my chest and threw her weight against me. Didn’t move when she did so again, and then again until we stood chest to chest, her upper body flush against mine, her hands on my shoulders.

Her full breasts were flattened against my chest, her stomach pressing against mine, but I deliberately ignored the desire her closeness inspired and kept focused on her eyes, watching them as they widened and then narrowed as her frustration grew.

“You could go around me,” I said.

“What?” she said distractedly, still pushing against me with all of her might.

“You could go around,” I repeated.

Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, and she quickly moved left. So did I. I followed when she moved right and then left again, and stopped when she did. Though she glared at me, she’d calmed, and now I could try to get through to her.

“Where are you going, Milan?”

“Home,” she said quietly.

“Home?”

“Yeah. I’m going to get in my car and go home, try to find out who did…that to Tiffany,” she said, her eyes watering with tears but her voice holding strong.

“That’s stupid,” I said, roughly. She was in pain. I could see that, but she needed to keep her head. Besides, I didn’t like to see her this way.

She glared harder. “No, what was stupid was not trying to kill you.”

“No, not trying to kill me was smart. You would have failed,” I replied. She was attempting to provoke me, lashing out in her anger, something that brought me even more regret.

“Probably, but I might not have, and Tiff might still be here,” she said.

“But you wouldn’t be.” My voice dropped when I spoke, the idea of speaking of Milan’s demise in something other than hushed tones an impossibility.

“Don’t care. But she’s not, and I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” she said.

I could see her focus, her determination, so I stepped aside.

“Fine,” I said. “Go.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, almost as if she was shocked, and then she nodded.

She took one step, then another, and I watched her, waiting before I finally spoke.

“But what you’re doing is stupid, Milan,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could.

I should just let her go, but then again, I shouldn’t have let her live in the first place. Milan was a complication, a distraction, a mess I should have cleaned up, one I ordinarily would have. I’d gone against everything I knew, all of the experience that had kept me alive all this time. I shouldn’t be here right now. My world was in upheaval, and someone was trying to fuck me over. I had more than enough to deal with and still didn’t know how I would.