The Black Wolf (In the Company of Killers, #5)(78)

“That’s enough, Izzy.” A long deep breath rattles in my chest; my hands collapse into fists; I grit my teeth.

She steps into my face again, puts her finger in my face again, boldly, accusingly, unforgivingly. “You’re the person I knew you always were, Niklas—a lowlife piece of shit who thinks of nobody but himself—”

“I said that’s enough…” Breathe, Niklas, just f*cking breathe.

“You’re nothing; you’re just a—”

My hands shoot up of their own accord and fall heavily on Izabel’s shoulders and I shove her into the chair; the adjustable back bouncing against the weight and coming to an abrupt stop. Izabel’s eyes are round; her hands grip the plastic arms of the seat; her head is pressed into the back as if she can’t push herself far enough away from me. With my hands still on her shoulders I lean in closer, inches from her stunned face. “You’re wrong!” I bark, putting pressure on her shoulders, shaking her. “I came on this mission because you wanted me here—I came here for you! Not for Victor; not even to take revenge on him! I came to protect you!” I point in her face, right between her eyes. “Everything that happened, with the exception of killing Francesca—.” I can’t even say it; I can’t because…I don’t know. Why do I care to defend myself to her? Fuck her! She doesn’t know me!

Releasing her shoulder harshly, I step back and away from her. I can’t look at her.

Fuck her…





Izabel





What have I done? Why do I feel so…like the worst person in the world?

Niklas turns his back to me and grabs his briefcase from the seat across the aisle; he takes it three seats up and sits down so I can see nothing of him but the back of his head.

I feel a guilty tear burning my eye, tracking down my cheek; I wipe it away quickly with the edge of my thumb.

“Niklas…” I try to say, but I realize the sound of my voice dies before I can get his name out.

“Emilio!”

All three of our heads shoot up, turning in Sian’s direction just as she’s practically flying out of the seat by the window. Niklas jumps up, grabbing her around the waist before she can get past him and out of the plane. He grabs his gun from his pants. Nora grabs her gun from the empty seat next to her and rushes past me toward the door of the plane with Niklas.

“Let me go! EMILIO! EMILIO!”

I run up behind them, taking Sian into my arms, trying to hold her back, but she’s proving stronger now that the drugs have left her system.

“Sit down,” I tell her, shoving her into a seat almost as harshly as Niklas had shoved me.

“SIAN!” Emilio’s angry voice rings out.

Two gun barrels are pointed at Emilio’s head when he comes rushing up the steps to get into the plane. I can just barely keep Sian restrained in the seat; sobbing, she digs her fingertips into my arm. “Please! Let me go!”

When Emilio sees her, relief and heartache wash over his features; he can’t move toward her unless he wants to get shot, but he…oh my God, he does love her. I can see it in his eyes.

“How’d you know where to find us?” Niklas demands.

“I followed you when you left the mansion,” Emilio says, but he can’t take his eyes off Sian. “Now let her go; let her go or I’ll kill you.”

“She’s mine.” Niklas pushes the gun toward Emilio, daring him to move any closer.

It suddenly dawns on Emilio—we aren’t who we claimed to be. He tears his gaze away from Sian long enough to see Nora pointing a gun at him, standing beside Niklas as his equal and not his slave; Emilio is confused.

“Who are you people? I knew it! You’re a fraud. Sian, did they hurt you? Did he touch you?” His voice begins to rise; he starts to move forward anyway, wanting to get to Sian, until Niklas and Nora remind him who’s in charge, and he stops.

“They helped me,” Sian calls out over the few rows of seats. “No one hurt me, Emilio.”

Emilio’s eyes dart to and from Sian and Niklas; he’s in clear need of answers.

“Step out of the plane,” Niklas warns Emilio, walking forward to force Emilio backward.

“Sit down,” I tell Sian, and I shoot up from the seat. I look down into her tortured face, seizing her gaze, hoping to make her trust me. “Please just wait here; let me talk to them.”

She nods, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Niklas,” I say, moving toward them, “let him inside.”

“Get back, Izabel.”

“Niklas, please—they love each other, that much is obvious to me; let him in the plane.”

“Bullshit.” Niklas keeps his eyes and his gun trained on Emilio. “This motherf*cker is sick; the whole family is demented; he f*cks his sister for Christ’s sake!”

“I’ve never f*cked her!” Emilio roars. He moves back up the steps despite the guns pointed at his face. (Please don’t shoot him, Niklas, please don’t shoot him.) “Francesca and I were close all our lives, closer than any of our sisters; we were all each other had—and you’re right, our family is demented! But Francesca, as she got older, her love for me evolved into something…different. I never gave into it fully, but I did what I had to do—and I never f*cked her! She needs help; she always has. But I’m not going to be the one to help her; I’ve wanted out for years.”