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The first time she sees him, he’s wearing so many tubes and wires that it’s hard to know where the machines stop and he begins. What little of his skin she sees is not its natural color. Blue-purple bruises, crusted yellow scabs, a bloodless gray where the life used to be.
She isn’t sure what’s louder, the shrill beep of the heart monitor or the exaggerated puff and drag of the ventilator. A knot of tension bunches between his eyes. There’s no rest for their kind even at death’s door.
Nik has no idea how they found him, and she hasn’t asked. If she asks, the answer she gets will lead to other questions. Should they have pulled him from the water at all? Did he want them to find him? Nik is more sure of the answer to these questions, though she wishes she wasn’t.
Yaz asked if they should tell the kid. She said no, not yet. The kid already lost him once, it isn’t fair to do that to him again unless they’re sure.
Rake’s chest rises and falls unnaturally. The ventilator wheezes, but the heart monitor keeps on beeping.
***
He’s discharged from medical four months later. Walking is difficult but doable, though he struggles to stay on his feet for long periods of time. He’s armed with a brand new prescription bottle of painkillers. There is a long, brownish scar on his neck that the collar of his shirt can’t hide. He winces when he lowers himself to sit in the passenger seat. Nik pretends not to notice.
The safe house isn’t far by design. He’s within a close enough distance that they can rush him back to the hospital if his health declines. It’s a condo building with other tenants. Yaz is one of them, close enough to hear any sounds of struggle.
Rake looks around. He’ll hate it, Nik already knows. Rake has always preferred wide open spaces. He’d go home if he could, but his old address isn’t safe yet. And even if it was, he isn’t in much condition for taking care of the chickens in his bathroom.
Shadow sits on the living room floor. When Rake sees her, he smiles for the first time since the bridge. Rake sinks back on the couch as if he's lost the last of his energy.
Shadow is the right dog for him. She calmly sets paws on the couch between his spread knees. She bumps her head on his chest, and he scratches behind her ears. “Hey, girl,” he says, soft and affectionate.
“Koen watched her,” Nik says. “And he’s keeping an eye on your chickens.”
Rake looks up at her. The smile is gone, but he nods. He’s in need of a shave and a haircut, the strands almost to his eyes. “Who’s paying for all this?” Rake asks.
“It’s covered,” Nik says. “Don’t ask again.”
Rake nods again. He lowers his eyes back to the dog sitting between his feet. His hands dangle between his knees, twitching through her fur every now and then. “How long?” Rake asks.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “Until it’s safe. We won’t keep you here any longer than you need to be.”
Rake’s mouth twitches, but it isn’t quite a smile. He doesn’t look up from the dog. It was right to bring her even though the price for accommodations went up with a pet.
“Does the kid know?” he asks.
When she shakes his head, he looks at her. His eyes have a glazed shine to them. She wonders how many pills it took for him to walk out of the hospital ward under his own power. There are three brand new bottles of whiskey in the kitchen. It’s safer, Nik figured, than anything else he might try to do.
“Good,” Rake says at last. “That’s good.” He slumps back on the couch, hands limp in his lap.
Nik frowns but turns for the door. “There’s takeout in the fridge. Eat something, Tyler.”
Rake doesn’t react, and Nik doesn’t expect him to. She leaves his set of condo keys on the small dining table against the wall. Her own set of keys jingles in her pocket when she walks out.
***
Rake isn’t in good shape when she comes again. A bottle of Johnny Walker is half-drained on the dining room table. There’s broken glass on the kitchen floor, and Rake’s hand is bloody. He’s holding a towel around it, the white and blue fabric half-soaked through. Shadow sits in the living room, whimpering.
The dustpan hasn’t moved from the closet between the living room and bathroom, where Nik personally put it before Rake moved in. Very little has changed in the condo except the amount of dust. Nik sweeps up the mess in the kitchen and retrieves the first aid kit from under the sink.
She wishes Rake were a louder drunk. If he screamed at her, at anything, at least she would hear what's wrong. But Rake sits blank at his dining table. He shows Nik his cut hand before she can force him. “A glass fell,” he says.
“I can see that,” Nik replies.
She disinfects and bandages Rake’s hand. He watches her, not even flinching at the pain. Rake sways a little on his seat, face warm from drinking. There are tears in his eyes too, bleeding into the liquored haze.
When Nik finishes, she holds his hand between hers. Rake lets her at first, his fingers dead in her grasp.
It’s like an afterthought when he pulls away, clearing his throat and reaching for the whiskey. Nik doesn’t say anything when he drinks straight from the bottle. She doesn’t have to, she’s never had to. Her face has never behaved in the same room with Rake.
He disappoints Nik. She's worried, yes, she's angry, and she understands even though she’s never felt the same grief. But Nik is more disappointed than anything else. In him, for looking the same as he did before the job. In herself too, for dredging him out of that river when she knows in her heart that it isn’t what he wanted.
“I saw him,” Rake says. Slow, slurring. “He was so clear. So close. I almost - I could have reached out and… He was so close to me.”
Nik takes the bottle from his hand. When she takes it into the kitchen and dumps the rest down the sink, he doesn’t argue.
She pauses in the doorway. Rake’s head is down, eyes hidden from her. His bandaged hand dangles between the chair and the floor.
“Don’t forget about the dog,” Nik tells him. “She needs you too.”
Rake’s mouth twitches, admonished. He nods and clears his throat again.
“I won’t see you for awhile,” Nik says. “There’s something I have to do.”
Rake lifts his head; from his grimace it takes a great effort. “Are you coming back?” he asks.
Nik’s chest tightens. She isn’t sure what either of them want the answer to be. “When it’s done,” Nik answers. She leaves without waiting for his response.
***
Asif smiles when he sees her. His cock is in his hand, but he stands tall and proud. Confident even in this vulnerable state. Self-assured, never given reason not to be. He has not planned for this, but of course it’s happened. His dick already out, a prize peacocked to the strange beauty who looks at him across a row of urinals.
The smile falls from his face when Nik lifts the gun. It’s done with one headshot, but one bullet isn’t enough. Nik looks at his body crumpled on the floor, his face half-gone, blood and brains on the wall. She shoots him twice more in the chest. Makes sure that his creme suit is beyond salvaging
She picked the black gown for a reason. Blood stains the bottom hem when she walks out.
There is no ego in her business. But as Nik steps undetected from the men’s lavatory, she feels as satisfied as she’s ever been on the clock. It is closure they all needed. The job is finally over.
***
“You can go home, Tyler.”
The other end of the line is silent, save the puff of unsteady breaths against the receiver. Nik waits, phone to her ear. “Tyler?” she tries again.
“Will I see you first?” he asks.
Nik closes her eyes. She has not changed out of her evening wear yet. Her pressed lips are still soft with lipstick. Weariness stings through a fence of false lashes.
Nik knows what her answer should be, but she also knows what it will be before the words come out. “Yes,” she says. “You’ll see me.”
***
It’s late when she lets herself into Rake's condo. There are no liquor or pill bottles in the living room, no unwashed glassware or clutter. Shadow lies on the floor in front of the sofa. She lifts her head when Nik walks in but lowers it again, sensing no threat.
The bedroom is dark when Nik walks in, save lights from the street that flash between cracked blinds. It’s enough light to see that Rake is awake, his eyes shining from the other side of the room. He’s lying on top of the covers, hands bridged on his stomach. His tank top and joggers are a contrast to her crisp button down tucked into olive high waist slacks.
She sits on his side of the bed. Rake looks up, not speaking even when she slides fingers into his hair. He’s gotten it cut while she was away to the length it was at the beginning of the ob. Rake rolls to his side under her hand and lets his head droop towards her. Nik follows the motion, fingers settling on the back of his scalp. She hears him breathe, quiet and shaking.
This is a mistake. Nik knows it as she presses a kiss to his hair. Bowed close, it’s easy for him to slide his arms around her. He’s far stronger but gentle, guiding her on top without force. Rake lets it be her decision to straddle his waist, his body firm but relaxed between her legs.
Rake sits up beneath her, fingers on her shirt. He unhooks each button, lips following every new piece of skin exposed. Rake settles at her breasts, in particular on the long scar puffed around the curve of the left. He mouths at it reverently, beard scratching through the lace trim of her bra. Nik sighs and shrugs the rest of the way out of her shirt. She runs fingers through his hair, settles them on the back of his neck.
Her thumb grazes the scar on the side of his throat. He looks up at her. She presses resolved lips together and guides him to his back.
Kissing him isn’t what Nik would have expected years ago. At that time, he had more life to him. She thought he would toss her to her back, her mouth and body ravaged by an irrepressible hunger.
Kissing Rake now is like a long-suffered sigh. He slacks under her, fingers unsteady against the clasp of her bra. She shrugs out of this too, bent over him. His hands drag down her spine and he tastes her, slow and deep. Like relief. Nik sits up, and he follows, face ducked against her chest. He mouths around the curve of her breast, gathers her nipple between his lips, his tongue warm across the tip. A pulse of desire answers between her thighs, and she forces him to part long enough to remove his tank top.
Underneath, he’s a myriad of tattoos and scars. The wound on the side of his neck is most prominent, but there are many others. Scars on his arms, his chest. Long, deep lines framing his rib cage and puffed across his stomach.
Under her gaze, Rake quirks a wry smile. “Second thoughts?” he asks.
“No,” Nik says, though it isn’t true. She knows she shouldn’t with certainty, she’s always known. But tonight she does not care. It’s a mistake she needs, hopefully one they both do.
Rake holds her eyes as he sits back against the headboard. He cups hands between her thighs, guides her to open around his waist. Her knees settle around his hips, stretched wide enough that the seam of her slacks presses up into her. Rake repeats his stroke, cupping her legs with hands that have broken countless bones. She grabs his jaw and urges him up to kiss her again. Pressed flush against him, she’s more aware of the thinness of his joggers. Nik feels him swell, a thick outline wedged against her. She guides her body against his. He hums approval, fingers tangled in her hair.
Nik has to push up on her knees to unfasten her slacks. Her underwear is already damp. There’s no way he can see in the unlit bedroom, but he must know by the way his tongue grazes his lips. As she folds her pants on the other side of the bed, he rids himself of his own. His cock is a good size, already curved towards his belly. Nik peels out of her panties as he grabs a condom from the top drawer of his nightstand. He rolls it on himself in one easy motion. She waits for him to sit up further, to take her and roll her onto her back. But Rake stays where he is, back against the headboard. Head cocked, he watches her, a faint smile on his face.
Nik opens her legs around his thighs and settles down. For now, she tests him curved against her stomach. She leans up to kiss his collarbone and follow a scar across his right pec. Nik rocks her body forward, enjoying the slide of his cock on her stomach. Rake sighs under her. He cups the small of her back, fingers easing down to frame the round of her ass. He squeezes her closer, makes a pleasant sensation flutter between her thighs.
Nik’s lips wander up his throat, scratched by the start of his beard. Relaxed as he’s been, it’s a surprise when his arm winds around her shoulders and pulls her close. He kisses her, his grip finding her wedged flat against his chest. The strong embrace warms blood already heated by arousal. Her breasts press tight to him. Nik sits up on her knees, opening herself wider. She lowers back down.
The lubricated condom helps, but Nik still has to go slow. The pressure is immediate, even wet as she is, and it’s been awhile since a man last filled her like this. Being on top helps so she can set her own pace. Nik didn’t think it was what she wanted, but Rake somehow knew.
He likes how she feels. She hears his approval rumble low against her lips. His mouth slips to her jaw, grazing it with his teeth. His fingers find her hair again, a gentle pull enough to tilt her head back. Nik gasps, and the sound turns to a murmur of pleasure. His lips follow her throat down, beard leaving pink scratch marks behind. Her thighs burn with the stretch of fitting him. When she makes it down, she sighs, sweat glowing down the slope of her back. Rake’s breath stutters against her skin. His grunt expresses as much as another man’s shout. Rake mumbles against her neck, muffled endearments that she can’t understand, and she doesn’t need to.
Nik moves above him, rising and falling, and he helps. Guides her with large hands around her hips. One drifts down her stomach, slipping through the soft hair between her legs. His thumb presses, and every thrust sizzles like explosives connected to her blood. Nik gasps, and he chuckles against her skin.
“Stop it,” Nik says, though the last thing she wants him to do is stop. She closes a fist in his hair. His head pulls back with a hiss, and he stares up at her. Even in the dark, the hunger in his eyes is palpable. Nik has never seen him like this before, so full of something he wants, so unguarded and selfish. The look makes her pulse race, and buried feelings spring forward. Self-centered, desperate feelings that she should have let go of long ago. Feelings that say she won’t give him up no matter who tries to take him. Asif. The elder Mahajan. The river. Even Tyler himself.
“God, Nik,” Rake groans under her lips. His thumb dips more forcefully between her legs, circling with every thrust. She kisses him before he can say another word, letting him feel her response, her gasp lost to his lips. Nik rides him until her legs turn to jelly, until she can't hold herself upright for fear of screaming. Her nerves are on fire, sensation sizzling across every goosebump on her skin. His stomach clenches under her, a jagged buck to his waist. “Fuck,” a ragged breath against her chin.
His head sags against her, and she feels his orgasm rock through him. He holds her tight to him. So tight that she can’t catch her breath. He spasms into her, thumb curled between them so tightly that it takes biting her own lip to keep from crying out. Her toes curl, and her vision goes white. He’s breathing against her ear, shifting her hair with every stroke.
Nik lies sprawled against Rake’s chest until she feels the pressure inside her ease. He’s tucked his face against her neck, and she knows he's closed his eyes by the tickle of his lashes.
“Stay,” he mumbles.
She shouldn’t. It’s only going to make what follows harder. Rake’s return home, Nik moving on with her job and her life. In the state Rake is in, they won’t be calling on him again anytime soon. One day she’ll go with him to see the kid. But their story closed the moment Nik put a bullet through Asif’s brain. This is their happy ending. One night.
The strong Nik knows this, but the last thing Nik feels right now is strong. She lies back down on her side.
After a rustle of the condom discarded, Rake spreads himself next to her. His lips nudge between her shoulders. “Thanks, Nik,” he mumbles.
Nik sighs and threads her fingers through his hand on her stomach. “Get some sleep,” she says.
Eyes closing, she refuses to think about what tomorrow will bring. Warm and sore, Nik falls asleep listening to the sound of Rake breathing and alive.