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There were a few more gunshots down the street as we raced away, but they dropped off almost immediately. It was a busy area in the center of town, and Ilya’s people weren’t in the business of getting caught. Ilya wasn’t in the business of causing a scene or drawing attention to him, either. It was one thing that played in our favor.
“There’s a gym bag here with towels,” Valen said, handing me a thick, white one. “Let’s clean you up the best we can.”
Ryker moved over and found a sealed bottle of water. He twisted the cap, poured some on the towel, and the two of them began to wash the blood away as Kingston and Archer drove us through the city streets.
I closed my eyes as they wiped my face, and I heard them both make small sounds of concern once the blood was gone.
“What is it?” I asked and raised my fingers to feel the skin that still burned along the right side of me. “What happened?”
I felt small cuts under my fingertips, cuts and oozing blood all along my cheekbone, temple, and around my eye. They were fewer and farther between when I got down to my jawline, but I could feel some in my neck, and when I looked down at my arm, it was slashed all over with cuts from the glass.
“Oh god, does it look bad?” I asked, running my hands over it again. “Is it going to scar?”
“I don’t know about that, but even if it does, you’re still beautiful,” Ryker said.
“We should try to find some antibiotic spray or something for the wounds,” Valen said. “But even if you have a few small scars, it won’t diminish your beauty.”
I didn’t have time to lament the loss of my looks, however, because we left the city and hit the outskirts where the airfield was located.
A few twists and turns later, we found it. Even though Ilya’s people didn’t seem to be following us, we still sprinted from the car to the waiting jet. The pilot and one flight attendant were waiting for us, and neither one of them even blinked when they saw how disheveled and frantic we were.
“Looks like it’s a good day for a trip,” the pilot said with a pleasant smile.
“If you follow me, I’ll take care of you today,” the flight attendant said, and he flashed us all a warm look that conveyed trust and calm.
They’d obviously dealt with this kind of wild group before. Nothing we were bringing on board would faze them. This was a good thing and appreciated. I could relax, Ryker could rest, and the others could get their heads together.
“We need a first aid kit,” Ryker said, squeezing my hand.
“And we’ll need somebody to take care of the vehicle,” Kingston added.
“If you’d like to leave the keys—” the pilot started to say, but Archer cut him off.
“No keys and no questions, please.”
“Yes, of course,” the pilot replied and looked at the attendant. “We’ll see to it the moment we return.”
“Thank you,” I said wearily, sagging against Valen’s side. He put his arm around my shoulders and held me upright.
Inside the plane, I basically flopped across the white leather bench seat with the slightest concern that I might leave blood streaks on the beautiful material. Valen took the first aid kit from the attendant, and the pilot went to the cockpit.
The engines came to life, and we began to taxi down the small runway. As we lifted off, Valen was dabbing each one of my wounds with an antibiotic ointment that also killed the pain.
I took a couple of Tylenol to help as well, and everything felt like it was going to work out once we were in the air.
Even Ryker seemed as if he was over his problems, and I sat up eventually to let my Kings surround me on the bench seat. They took turns comforting me and helping me drink when my hands ached, or my lip hurt where one shard of glass had sliced it on the bottom. They even took turns picking pieces of glass out of my hair and generally making me feel good.
I did love it but felt guilty because I should have been doing the same for them. In fact, after the whole horrible situation with Avery and Maksim, my guilt propelled me forward to the point of anxiety, as if I could keep them all so satisfied that they would never find out about it. How I hadn’t fought harder to make it stop, or how I’d faked it, so it seemed as if I liked it.
I didn’t deserve the love they gave me, and I realized that’s how Ryker had felt at some point with us. As if he didn’t deserve everything good that we gave him because he didn’t see the good he brought to the relationship.
I needed some time alone to think about my own issues with everything. I was desperate to sit by myself and unravel the tangle of emotions that kept me tied up and unable to connect with my Kings. I needed something we didn’t have, a moment of peace.
So I would fight Ilya twice as hard, not just to get Ivan and Amara back or to free ourselves from the constant worry that he would come for us at any time. But to handle my own emotions, to get revenge on Maksim, and to give myself the calm, level, boring life I so craved.
The flight went by quickly, and when we exited, the flight attendant made sure we had a bag full of medical supplies and painkillers. He managed to slip us a bottle of very good vodka, too, just in case we needed to dull the pain even more at some point.
The pilot had called ahead and arranged a driver for us, so the five of us climbed into the back of an SUV limo, black, of course, with a black leather interior complete with a mini fridge and mellow LED lights.
