by SR Jones
The man pats Levi who pants happily in response. “The two most important commands are Aus, which means get off, leave it. And Fass, which is the attack command.”
I nod and listen as he goes through some more instructions, and then I’m loading up my newly purchased SUV, with a special dog space for Levi in the back, and we are driving away.
I bought a dog, and a fucking SUV for the fucking dog, and I did both those things for Violet. If she asked me to buy her the moon, I’d try.
I glance at Levi in the back, hoping he’s safe. This is strange; already I feel protective. Levi’s life is now in my hands. Mine to protect but also to make happy and secure. Yes, he’s going to help protect us too, but I already feel utterly responsible for him, and it’s not a bad sensation. Not at all.
He might be a forty kilogram trained attack dog, but I already feel paternal toward Levi.
I think of Violet’s face when she sees him. She’s going to lose her shit. She’ll love him. I particularly picked a dog who, while trained, was also affectionate and would make a great companion animal.
My major worry about getting a dog is what happens if shit hits the fan and Justina, Violet, and myself have to bug out at a moment’s notice. Luckily, Ethan has said he’ll take Levi for however long is needed.
I’m starting to quite like the guy. He’s almost becoming a friend, which is weird because I don’t really have friends.
I don’t have a normal life at all, and yet here I am. A friend … possibly. A dog. A … girlfriend? Lover? I don’t really know what she is, but she’s something, and it’s something important.
I’ve gone from being a guy with no baggage at all, except for Justina, to finding myself getting attached to all sorts of people, two and four legged alike. It should be terrifying but it’s … good.
Levi starts to whine, and I speak to him in low, reassuring tones. I talk to him in Russian because I don’t think it matters what I say so much as how I say it. I tell him about my homeland. My remaining family in Russia is touched upon before I talk to him about the Ukraine.
Some days, I find myself longing for home. Others, I think the longing is simply to be somewhere different. Not to be in England anymore where the life is so … empty in many ways.
There’s camaraderie in Russia, Ukraine too. Lots of bad things happen, and people struggle, but family, community, they are important. Here, in England, certainly in the cities, not so much. Or not for me, at any rate. I don’t have close friends in the English community, and I have to treat those in the Russian community with wariness due to the path I’ve been on these last few years.
I suppose I’ve been lonely at times and not realized it.
The last time I experienced a sense of wellbeing similar to the one I get in my homeland was during my visit to Greece. Corfu is a million miles away from Russia. However, in some ways, the people, the culture, they reminded me of home. Home, but with more sun, more happiness, and the sea. I liked it there, and part of me thinks when this new fucking mess I’ve fallen into is sorted out, I’ll be tempted to leave this behind and go live there.
I don’t need money, I have more than enough, and if I did need some, I can always take on some mercenary work. But with the value of my home, the cars, the savings and my investments, I’m set for life.
Not that I’d sit around and do nothing. I’ve always had a desire to write. The shit I’ve been through, I’m sure I’d pen a good thriller.
For a moment, I indulge myself in the fantasy. A house overlooking the sea on Corfu. Me writing, and Violet painting. Justina happy with a woman she truly loves, not drifting through life.
Can I do it? Be normal? I’ve never stopped fighting, not really. The wars ended, and I left the military, but then I fought the men who’d killed my family, and now they’re all gone, and I’m embroiled in Sergei’s battles.
If I’m not a fighter, what am I? A writer? Do I honestly think I can go from this adrenaline-fueled existence to a quiet life amongst the olive groves?
In a way it would suit me, as I don’t do being social. It’s a fucking strain. Chatting with Allyov and his men, it’s a duty, a tiring one. The whole time I’m talking to most people all I can sense is the great big fucking barrier between us. Their normality and my life and past colliding in a way which prevents any sort of shared ground.
I don’t feel that way with Violet, though. I’m not Mr. Chatty with her, but I can talk to her. And she’s quiet herself. We spend a lot of time in comfortable silence, with her painting or reading, and me checking my investments or my emails, or looking at the news.
I think I get on with Ethan because he understands. He’s also different to most people, as are Liam and Luka. Liam, though, he’s a closed book, unfriendly as fuck, and clearly doesn’t like me. Luka … he’s too good looking by half, and I don’t like him being around Violet so much. Especially not since I saw a picture of his wife when he was passing it around. She’s not what I expected, not gorgeous. The sort of woman who would be called handsome back in Russia. Not a beauty, not like my Violet.
Sometimes when Luka and Violet are talking together, I get the urge to break his fucking pretty neck.
By the time I arrive home, all my good mood from my island life fantasy has dispersed at the thought of Violet falling for Luka. I tell myself I’m a dick, but the burning jealousy doesn’t go away. One day, she’ll fall for someone else. Maybe not Luka, but someone.
A man who can be normal.
A man who can bring himself to tell her he loves her.
The thought shocks me so much I nearly crash the car into the hedge by the house.
Do I love her? I don’t know, but I think I might. I want to please her. Make her happy. Keep her safe. Protect her. Fuck her. Cherish her.
More, I want to be her friend.
Oh, shit. I’m fucked.
I’m in love with Violet Babiek.
I’m in love with the daughter of the man who committed a terrible crime against my family.
Can we make something good out of a terrible act, or are we doomed? Are we destined to be nothing more than an older, but still as naïve, modern-day Romeo and Juliet?
With that depressing thought ricocheting around in my head, I pull my phone out and dial Violet.
She answers on the second ring. I get out of the car. “Zaika, there’s something I need you to come see outside.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in two minutes.”
She opens the door not thirty seconds later, and she stares at me, and then the car.
She frowns a little and comes down the steps. “You bought a new car?”
I nod. “Yep. Thought we needed something like it. It’s not new,” I tell her, pointing to the Range Rover. “Secondhand. No point getting something new if it’s only going to get muddy and full of hair.”
“What? You’ve lost me.” She glances at the car again. She won’t be able to see Levi through the tinted windows.
I grin at her, open the hatchback door, and whistle. Levi jumps out, and I give the command for sit. He does so immediately.
She stares at him and lifts her face to me. Her eyes are shining. “Is he … is he … for me?”
Suddenly, I know what I want. I might be a difficult man. Introspective, quiet, and frankly unable to form relationships easily, but I want to try now. With her.
“He’s ours,” I say, with emphasis on the word ours. “Although,” I add, “he’ll spend most of his time with you. He’s a fully trained protection dog, but also a companion animal. He’s good with other dogs and good with kids, so you don’t have to worry when you walk him.”
Her face is beaming as she looks from him to me. “Can I say hello?”
“Yes, of course.”
She does. She bends down and tentatively holds her hand out to Levi, letting him sniff her. Then she strokes him under his chin and down his chest.
“He’s beautiful, Andrius.”
“Shall we take him for a walk?” I ask her.
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“Yeah, sounds good.” She looks back to the house. “Do I erm … I don’t need to tell…”
“No.” My voice is harsher than I mean it to be. “You’re with me. I can fucking protect you, Violet.”
“Okay.” She puts an appeasing hand on my arm, and instead of shrugging her off like I would have done to some other woman before, I take her hand in mine and squeeze it.
“Sorry,” I say, the word tasting strange and new in my mouth. “Sometimes, I’m harsh with you.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “You were hardly awful.”
She smiles up at me, and I want to crush her to me and never let her go.
We walk around the field, and she’s chattering to me about her day so far, but all I can think of, all I want to do, is take her back to the house and get her into my bed. Our bed.
“Come on.” I walk toward the house and slow my steps when I realize she’s trotting to keep up with me.
“What’s so urgent?” she asks.
“I need to fuck you. Now.”
“Oh.” The word is whisper soft.
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to.”
She starts to walk fast now, almost pulling me along, and I smile.
We reach the house, and I call out to Justina. She comes out of the kitchen and is smiling at the man behind her. Liam. What she’s got to smile at the moody asshole about I don’t fucking know.
“I’ve got to go shopping; we need so many things. Liam is coming with me.”
“I’ve explained we don’t need to go out, it can all be ordered online these days, but the client insists.” He fixes her with a glare.
I understand then; the contrary woman is smiling because she’s pissed him off.
This is good, it gives me and Violet some free time with no one at the house because right now, Liam is the only one of the guys here.
Justina looks behind Violet and gives a gasp.
“Oh wow, who is this?” Her voice goes all high, as if she’s talking to a baby, on the last three words.
“Levi,” I tell her, “and he’s a deadly guard dog, so don’t start treating him as if he’s a baby with fur.”
“I ought to get a dog,” she says, and she seems serious. “One of those small ones, then I can dress it up and go shopping for it.”
“Are you fucking serious? Who are you, and what have you done with Justina?”
“No, seriously, Andrius, you can get some amazing shit for dogs these days. It would be nice to have a companion. After all, you’ve got two now, Violet and Levi.”
“You compared me to a dog,” Violet says.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t mean it that way. I get lonely these days is all. You two are always loved up together, and now you’ve got Levi. I want a dog. Can I get a dog, Andrius?”
“So long as it’s not so small Levi can break its bones playing with it. Yes, you can get a fucking dog.”
I roll my eyes and push past her and into the kitchen.
“Great, I’ll start to look at registered breeders tonight. You have to avoid the backstreet types,” she tells Violet, all serious now. “There are horrible people in the dog breeding game. I’ll research breeds and find one that won’t be harmed by playing around with Levi.”
“Get a boy, too,” I add. “I don’t want Levi fucking some toy poodle bitch and creating an abomination.”
“Don’t be so crude.” She turns to Liam. “Come on then. Time’s a wasting, and there are things on the shelves needing a new home.”
He sighs and trudges after her.
“Do you think she is lonely, and I’ve pushed her out?” Violet turns to me as soon as the door closes, and I can see she’s upset by what Justina said.
“No. She sees no less of me now than she did before. We’ve always done our own thing. She’s decided she wants a dog and decided to make us feel bad so we’ll say yes. I swear, she’s seen some extortionate collar or something and now she’s buying the dog to match. Thing is, though, she’s as soft as shit underneath her act, so she’ll fall in love with it.”
“Do you want a drink?” Violet asks.
Yes, I fucking do. I’m exhausted running shit for Allyov and looking into who might be spreading shit about him. I’ve found out some stuff that’s frankly shocked me. There is also some legal issues I need help with. I can’t discuss it per se, but I need advice on a specific aspect of tort law, and I’ve asked Carmel, a waitress from the strip club who is working her way through law school, to meet me so I can ask her about it. She had told me proudly how she’d aced the tort stuff the one night we screwed, and I want to run the scenario by her. Not the actual details, of course, but a similar scenario and get some advice.
Allyov told me to run anything like this past Gregory, but right now, I don’t trust anyone because someone is talking, and they’re talking a lot.
I nod and head to the fridge. “Let’s have some champagne.”
“You don’t like it.” She frowns.
“It’s not what I’d normally choose to drink, but we’re celebrating.”
“What, having Levi?”
“No,” I say as I take the bottle out of the fridge and pop the cork with ease. “You and me, the pool and no one around.”
“What?”
“You ever been skinny dipping, Violet?”
She stares at me as if I’m crazy.
“No. And no.”
“I only asked one question.”
She’s backing away from me now.
“No. I haven’t. And no I’m not doing it now when they might see us if they come back.”
“They won’t be back for at least an hour. At least.”
I’ve got her cornered, and I put the champagne down, pick her up fireman lift style, and swing her over my shoulder. She screams, and I slap her ass before picking up the champagne with that hand, my other holding her to me.
I carry her out to the pool, bend at the knees and put the champagne down, but not Violet. With us both fully dressed, I run at the pool and jump in the deep end.
When we emerge, she’s spluttering and hitting me. Wet hair dripping onto her face, she stares at me in outrage.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Woops. Now you’re all wet. We better get these soaking clothes off.”
I climb out, lean down, and offer my hand. She takes it but shoots me a filthy look. When she’s out of the pool, I begin to methodically undress her, and then once we’re both naked, I lift her and jump into the pool.
“It’s cold,” she squeals.
“You’ll get used to it in a minute. There’s nothing like feeling water on your naked skin while you swim. Of course this isn’t as good as in the ocean, but it will do for now.”
She splashes me in the face and, giggling, swims away from me, but I catch her easily and pull her into me, letting her feel how hard I am for her.
“Anyway, I’m not going swimming naked in the sea.” She’s so serious it makes me smile.
“Why not?”
“There are things, creatures, and what if they swim around my private parts?”
I bust out laughing, and I’m laughing so hard, I have to let go of her.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Deadly. I don’t want any eels sniffing around my lady bits,” she says, but I see the smile she tries to bite back.
“What about crocodiles?” I pretend to snap my teeth at her, and then I lunge for her.
She screams, but I have ahold of her and pull her to me, taking her in a wet kiss, both of us treading water.
I swim us to the edge of the pool and hold onto the side. Then I grab the champagne and pour it all over her breasts which are bobbing out of the water. I bend my head down and lap it from her, as she gasps and writhes in my hold.
“Mmm,” I hum. “Tastes much better off you.”
Then I offer her some, and she takes the bottle and knocks some back. Her nose wrinkles in the most ador
able way and she says, “Fizz in my nose.”
I take a swig myself and swallow, not liking the bubbles which taste sickly to me. Still, she likes the stuff, and it wouldn’t be the same drinking whisky while we fool around in the pool.
“Here, hold onto the side,” I tell her. She is facing me and has her back to the edge of the pool.
I wrap my arms under her ass and lift her up until she’s balanced on her elbows with her upper body on the side of the pool. Then I lift her lower body out of the pool, supporting her, until her pussy is facing me, wet and so enticing.
I lower my head to her and smell her scent along with the mild chlorine smell from the pool. When I taste her, I groan. She’s becoming familiar, in the best way, but still new too. Like coming home after a long time away.
I lick at her, and she pushes herself onto my tongue, which I move faster and harder on her.
Soon she’s writhing and giving those little breathy gasps I love so much, when she slips. Her elbows come off the side, and she falls forward with a shriek. I lose my footing, and we both go under for a moment.
We come up laughing, and I decide I’m done with the pool for now, but not with the outdoors.
I jump out of the pool and help Violet out before heading to a sun lounger, where I sit.
“Straddle me,” I tell her.
She glances around.
“No one for miles, sweetheart.”
I pull her into my lap and kiss her, brushing her wet hair over her shoulder and kissing her neck, tasting chlorine and clean skin.
Her nipples are hard pebbles, and I cup her breasts, kneading and massaging her flesh. When I take one cold nipple into my warm mouth, she lets out a soft cry.
I want inside her, so I position myself at her core and lower her down on me.
She sinks onto me slowly, and as she envelopes me in her warm, silky embrace, her deep blue eyes stare into mine.
Her mouth opens as she takes me in deep, and I groan at the sensation.