Reviving Izabel - Redmerski J. A. - Страница 55
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“Izabel?” Victor asks, picking up where I had cut him off.
I look into his eyes.
“I’ll understand if you never forgive me, but—”
“Would you forgive me if it was the other way around?” I ask, trying to make a point that he instantly gets. “Victor, you did what you had to do, just like the night I manipulated you into—.” I stop myself before revealing too much about our personal relationship to Niklas and Fredrik. But I can tell by the look of understanding in Victor’s eyes that he knows what I’m referring to.
“But that’s hardly the same thing.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Let me just say for the record, right here in front of Pretty Boy and the Devil’s Advocate, the hell I went through is not only forgivable, but was absolutely necessary. I know what I’m involved in. We kill people, some of us for a living, some of us for revenge. I’m not working at a bank. A lot more than a background check and my credit score has to be taken into account if I’m going to be a part of this. And to be honest, I feel a lot safer around all of you knowing that you will go to such extremes to make sure that everyone in this room can be trusted. That anyone who joins us later will be put through the same hell.”
My eyes fall on Victor once more. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I say and his face softens.
Niklas stands up from the leather chair.
“Sar—Izabel,” he corrects himself, stepping up closer to me. “Look, I do need to say one thing to you. I’m very sorry for shooting you in Los Angeles. I really am. I won’t ever try to hurt you again.”
“I believe you,” I say, and by the looks on all of their faces, none of them expected it. “I think it’s safe to say that I’ll have a hard time even being in the same room as you, Niklas. I’m not enjoying it right now. Honestly, I’d rather not have to see you much. I think you’re a dick, and a crazy psychopath who belongs in a prison mental institution. I’ll never fucking like you and I doubt I’ll ever have any respect for you. But you’re Victor’s brother, and when I begged him not to kill you, it was for a reason and I don’t regret it. But I’ll never like you and I’m warning you to stay-the-fuck-outta-my-way.”
He raises both hands out at his sides in a surrendering fashion, and takes a step back. “All right, all right, I get it. Out of your way.” He laughs lightly.
It’s mostly for show. I know he still has his issues with me—he’s as bullheaded as I am—but for Victor’s sake, he’ll tolerate me as much as I’ll tolerate him. I despise that constant cocky look he wears. I despise his confidence and his arrogance and I anticipate that Niklas and I will butt heads a lot. But for Victor, I’ll endure it.
Niklas turns his back to me and starts toward the chair.
“Niklas,” I say, and he stops to look at me.
I move closer.
“There’s just one more thing I want to say to you.”
“Yeah?” He turns around fully and watches me curiously, waiting.
When I’m in arm’s reach I pull my fist back and then bury it against the side of his face, right along his jaw. The force of the blow sends a painful tremor through my hand. I try shaking out the pain by spreading and wiggling my fingers, but that just makes it worse.
“Owww, shit! What’s your damn problem?” Niklas holds his hand over the corner of his mouth. “Never mind. I get it. I shot you and now we’re even. I deserved it.” With his hand still over his mouth as if he’s trying to pop his jaw back into place, he moves the rest of the way toward the chair and sits heavily into it.
“That wasn’t because you shot me,” I snap. “That was for killing Stephens. He was mine.” I point at him. “And the only way we’ll ever be even for you shooting me is if I shoot you back. So like I said before, stay out of my way.”
Niklas looks across at Victor standing behind me, giving him a look that reads Is she for real? Victor doesn’t say anything, but when I glance back at him briefly, I notice he’s smiling.
Fredrik is lounging against the sofa with his arm across the back and a big grin on his face.
Finally, I take Victor’s hand and his offer to sit down. I’m too sore to stand up on my own for too long. He walks me to the sofa and helps me onto the soft cushion, holding my hand until I’m all the way down. And then he sits beside me.
Fredrik leans over and looks at me on the other side of Victor, his dark, charming smile in-tact.
“I’m glad you’re with us,” he says. “Of course, you have a lot of training ahead of you, according to Faust here.” He nods in Victor’s direction. “But something tells me you’re a natural.” He winks. “Stubborn. Reckless. Mouthy. So unladylike. But I probably wouldn’t like you much if you weren’t all of those things.”
“Thank you, Fredrik,” I say with sincerity and a smirk.
Niklas leans back in the chair, propping his black military-style boot on his knee. I don’t know why, but I make note of that. Military boots? I look the rest of him over. Dark jeans. Plain gray t-shirt that fits tight around his bicep muscles. Disheveled hair.
I look to and from him and the always-sophisticated Victor, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m missing something. I glance around Victor at Fredrik to his right, and like Victor, Fredrik looks the same as he always does, in expensive dress shoes and a refined suit.
“Why is he dressed like that?” I ask Victor, indicating Niklas with the tilt of my head.
Victor glances over momentarily, but it’s Niklas who answers.
“Because I prefer it over those ridiculous suits,” he says. “And since I’m no longer with the Order, I feel like I can dress however the hell I want.”
Surprised, my eyes fall back on Victor without moving my head.
Victor nods a few times, confirming what Niklas said.
“He left days ago,” Victor says. “Fredrik is the only one still on the inside.”
“But…why?” I ask. “I mean, wouldn’t it be better if Niklas was there keeping tabs on Vonnegut, especially where you’re concerned?”
“I left because I had to,” Niklas says. “It was taking me too long to kill Victor.”
“And as expected,” Victor adds, “Vonnegut was beginning to question Niklas’ loyalty. Vonnegut may not know that Niklas and I are brothers, but we’ve had a close working relationship for many years. It was taking too long and it was getting too risky.”
I let out a worried breath and start to lean against the couch until I remember my back.
I look at Fredrik. “What about you?” I ask. “Does the Order know about your relationship with Victor? Or Niklas, for that matter?”
Fredrik smiles at Victor. “See, she’s already hard at work,” he says with light laughter and then looks back at me. “The Order knows I worked with Victor a few times in the past, but not anymore than anyone else he’s ever worked with. As far as Niklas, when Victor went rogue, I was approached by Niklas—now we all know why—to help him find Victor. I was under the impression that I was to report to Niklas from now on.”
“But Vonnegut never knew of my involvement with Fredrik,” Niklas speaks up.
“So for now,” Victor says, “Fredrik is safe in the Order.”
“And I’m their only eyes and ears left on the inside,” Fredrik adds.
“Wow,” I say, shaking my head, trying to take all of this in and what it means for us.
“Getting scared?” Niklas asks with a grin on his lips.
“Not at all,” I answer with a smirk. “Just trying to figure out which job is more imperative, the compound in Mexico, or taking out the Order and getting them off our asses.”
Niklas grins and it seems that once he realizes it, he averts his eyes away from mine.
“I think I’m in love with your woman,” Fredrik says to Victor in jest.
“Somehow I doubt you’re capable,” Victor says nonchalantly.
He looks at me. “I know which job is more imperative.” He smiles slimly and places his hand over mine.
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