Erik: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Syndicate Book 3)

by Raven Scott

  “Alright. But you think it’ll help this time?”

  “I hope so. If it doesn’t, I’ll tell Dr. Laura and we’ll work it out.” For the first time in a long time, I felt more than just okay. I felt optimistic. I felt geed. I felt unburdened. “What about you, Erik? It’s kinda crappy if I feel so great and you don’t?”

  “I thrive off your prosperity, Natasha. You being happy makes me happy.” Smiling broadly, I crossed the threshold into CVS, and I paused as memories rose up behind my eyes. Pursing my lips thinly, I clenched my jaw hard and squeezed Erik’s hand, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose.

  “Shit.” My breath was gone at my mumble, and I clutched my chest as my heart started to pound furiously. Big, calloused hands held my biceps, and goosebumps washed my arms as a cold sweat broke out under my shirt. Wheezing lightly, I squeezed my eyes shut as pressure built behind their sockets. “Shit.”

  “Sit. I’ll get you some water and hit the pharmacy. Hey, kid, don’t take your eyes off her, yeah?” Blood drummed in my ears as Erik sat me against the side of a soda cooler, and I craned my neck in an effort to breathe. My lungs set fire, and my heart squeezed painfully as a bead of sweat dripped down my neck.

  “Oh-oh.” A dry, humorless huff of a laugh escaped me, and I sniffed even though the air didn’t reach the back of my throat before being sucked out of my mouth. Tears pricked my eyes, and I banged my head against the cooler as frustration only more intensely tightened my chest. “Damnit!”

  “Here, sweetheart. It’s alright.” Crouching down in front of me, Erik held a bottle of cold water to my face and neck, and my skin jumped from the sting. Panting hoarsely, I ground my teeth even as he shot me a comforting smile from under his trimmed goatee. “Focus.”

  “Totally . . . easy. Y-yeah.” Of course, I’d been warned that my whopping week strapped to a bed wasn’t going to ‘fix’ me, but, man, did it suck knowing for sure. Erik rifled through the bag as I tried to get my pulse under control, and my chest heaved furiously. My scattered brain couldn’t pick up any thoughts, and I closed my eyes to focus.

  “Moment of truth, here we go.” Very gingerly cupping my cheek, Erik popped a small pill into my mouth, and the cold against my neck disappeared. My throat flexed dangerously, but he was clam and cool, and I inhaled a shuddering, shallow breath through flared nostrils. “We’ll go to RiteAid from now on if we need something.”

  I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to when he tilted to bottle against my quivering lips, and Erik grumbled softly in encouragement. At the hospital, I hadn’t had any episodes, but wasn’t that how it was? All I wanted to do was leave, and I got so fucking lucky it wasn’t even funny. Carlyle was rich and powerful and raised his fist to get what he wanted, and I just so happened to know him. If not, I’d been there for weeks, or more, and . . .

  It’s true what they say. Those programs are intended for good, but no one really cares about me as a person. Those doctors care about me as a patient, a statistic, a number on a chat with a million other numbers. I’d be dosed up and shipped off, but not until after I had convinced them I was fine even if I wasn’t because who wants to be admitted to the psych ward?

  “Your pulse is going down.” Erik’s mumble snapped me from my bitter thoughts, and I cracked open my eyes to find it was a little easier to breathe. Surprise twitched my brows, and he smiled as he held two fingers to my pulse point. “All good?”

  “Y-yeah, I think so.” Either the actual medication itself, or the idea of it, or, Hell, maybe I just need to harness this horrendous bitterness I felt about being a Guinea pig! Somehow, something worked, and I reached a trembled, clammy palm to rub my face roughly. The pressure on my chest eased a little, and Erik helped me to my feet to wrap an arm around my shoulders as my panting morphed into shallow rasps.

  “It’s okay. I booked us a great reservation at the best place in town. We still have to get the rest of your meds, though this fine lady wouldn’t give them to me because I don’t know your birthday.” Alarm bells rang in my head and I glanced over to find the pharmacist watching us awkwardly. Clearly, she thought Erik was lying when he rushed back and said ‘oh, she’s having a panic attack right in the front of the store’ but . . .

  “It’s June Second.” Gulping down the dryness in my mouth, I nodded firmly, and Erik practically beamed at me out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah, okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

  41

  Natasha

  “You really didn’t have to cook for me, ma’am. I kn—" Carol shot me a mock glare over her bright, wide smile, and I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth as I shuffled awkwardly in my seat. “Carol, I know I’ve caused a lot of hassle, and—"

  “Stop that, Natasha. We’re not holding any of that against you. To be honest, all your . . . Mike . . . drama aside, it was honestly a relatively calm day.” She wavered a little, saying his name, and I gnawed on my lower lip as I ducked my head in acceptance. The huge spread on the table was enough to feed an army, and there definitely seemed an army here. All of Carol’s kids sat around me, and her husband. Even Kayla was here, and she even seemed pleasant from the outward.

  I worried about that woman, but, obviously, everyone was against her on this— this being ratting me out about killing my mother.

  “It’s important to get all the family together every once and a while, anyway.” Erik’s dad grabbed a massive bowl of mashed potatoes, and everyone around me sort of lunged at various dishes. Despite the chaos, there was a strange sense of order, and no one took a lot of any one thing. Glancing around at the huge roast dinner Carol had spent all day preparing, my chest tightened, and I reached to rub the spot and gulp down the discomfort in my throat.

  I was the only significant other here and I wasn’t stupid— these people were trying to make a point.

  “I’m sorry.” All movement stopped at my mumble, and I stared dazedly at the edge of the impressively large, probably custom-made dining table. “I don’t know what else to say, so I’m sorry.”

  What was I sorry about? I was sorry for making such a bad first impression. I was sorry that I couldn’t do the things other women could do, and somehow, I’d trapped Erik into being with me. I was sorry for the rift I’d caused in this family, and I was sorry for not knowing how to repair it.

  “Okay, I think we got off wrong, here.” Erik’s dad spoke up sternly, and my gaze flickered up as those commanding, brown eyes captured mine in a vice. “If there weren’t things wrong with you, Natasha, then we’d worry. Every single person at this table except for Carol has been in the infantry. I was in Vietnam for three years. PTSD is something we know very well, and we know how to handle it very well. We, in this family, do not judge people based on what they did to survive, overseas or at home.”

  “You said that Mike, Donald, was only in Witness Protection for a year, right? Which means he was released right before he met Aunt Kathy. Which means he continued the lie when he shouldn’t have. Which means you’re not responsible for that lie even if you did expose it, Natasha.” Grabbing my hand under the table, Erik’s declaration earned disgruntled approval all around, and I gnawed on my inner cheek hard. “If anyone deserves to be judged negatively, it’s him.”

  “I’d kill him.” Jason’s declaration knocked the air from my lungs, and I tore my eyes off their father as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Just so you know, I’d fucking kill him if I had any right to it. I’ve killed people just because I was told to shoot in that direction. It’d be no skin off my knuckles.”

  “Well, it’s not your business, Jason. Kathy is moving back here as soon as she can, and we’re going to help her. She may be stupid, but she’s just as much a victim.” Erik’s father’s tone of finality settled heavily on the table, and a strange sense of weightlessness flooded my chest. Suddenly, it was a little easier to breathe, and I blinked hard a few times as the old man nodded, his turkey neck flapping slightly. “So, Natasha. You really have nothing to be sorry about, b
ut you’re entitled to your feelings. I appreciate your apology.”

  “Thank you.” Squeezing Erik’s hand tightly, I nodded and sat up a little straighter, and the old man’s face crinkled when he smiled. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to put too fine a point on my issues.”

  “Since there’s been so much revelation, I have a confession to make.” Kayla straightened, her shoulders stiff, and she cleared her throat loudly as the conversation took a sudden turn. “Ben broke up with me.”

  I didn’t know exactly why the stunned silence was so damn shocking to me, but Kayla didn’t back down from it, and admiration seeped through the cracks between my ribs. Maybe, they were really good together?

  “What the fuck? Why? He was going to propose to you before you left, wasn’t he?” Kayla nodded, her face a picture-perfect portrait of sadness, with her hair in a regulation bun and no makeup on. Despite being sad, she wasn’t confused, and she inhaled through her lips before tilting her head sharply.

  “This woman in his office, I think. He said he realized we weren’t in a relationship because how could we be when I’m overseas thirteen months out of the year? He’s got a point. The only thing is, I’m off for six weeks because they’re processing my transition stateside. I applied to be stationed at Norfolk Communications and got accepted. Ben doesn’t know.” My confusion must’ve been clear on my face, and Kayla chuffed with a small smile as she shook her head. “He works for a support contracting firm for the military. So, even if I was home all the time, he wouldn’t be, which is ironic. He travels at least four months out of the year.”

  “Oh. Congratulations.” Awkwardness thickened my voice, and she nodded at me in acknowledgment as I licked the roof of my mouth. “If he knew, do you think it’d change his position?”

  “I guess we’ll never know. He broke up with me before I got shipped back via e-mail, and I’m not gonna go crawling and beg him to take me back. I mean, yes, I applied for this position partly for him, but I’m not gonna tell him that. He’s not even back in this country for another few days, so I wonder what he’ll do when he realizes I cleaned out our apartment and our bank account.” My brows rose high at that, and a round of laughter floated up as Kayla’s lips cracked in a smirk. “Yeah, whatever. I’m petty, I know.”

  “What’d you do with all the stuff?” Kayla’s smirk turned slimy, a little self-righteous, and not at all guilty, as she picked up her fork and twirled it between her fingers.

  “I sold it on Craigslist for pennies. Literally, nothing was more than a dollar. At least I made a lot of dollars.” My lips twitched at that, and the conversation fizzled out as greedy hands reached for food dishes. The smell of a roast dinner was lost to me as Erik rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb, and I rocked to rest my cheek on his shoulder. He tensed, not expecting the contact, and I closed my eyes when he pressed his lips to my crown and squeezed my palm.

  “Speaking of engaged, Lilly asked me to look up something on her phone, and she had a page of engagement rings open. You think that’s a hint?” The conversation swirled around me, and I closed my eyes as I let it drone into garble as I savored Erik’s heat against my face. Erik’s littlest brother, Miles maybe, has posed the question, but I didn’t pay attention to the aftermath as warm breath rolled down my scalp.

  “All of this is good cold. Do you want to go lay down?” Erik’s mumble caressed my ears, and I nodded before lifted my head. A twinge of guilt struck my chest, Carol had made this for me, and I couldn’t find my appetite anywhere. But, at least, everyone else was having a good time, and Erik and I left the dining room to head through the living room and up the stairs.

  “Do you wish we could have sex?” The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it, and Erik stiffened as he paused mid-step on the stairs. Twisting to scan me through narrowed eyes, he leaned on the wall to rub his jaw with his free hand as the other flexed against my palm.

  “I’ve never considered it. There’s three things you learn in the military, especially the Navy— how to drink, how to smoke a pack a day, and how to manage blue balls. So, I guess I wouldn’t say I wish . . . but if you were at a place you felt you could, I would agree.” That was a lot more analytical a reply than I expected, and Erik frowned under tightly knit brows. “What?”

  “Maybe . . . maybe we could j-just . . . lay down . . . t-together . . . ” Trailing off when his brows rose in surprise, my face threatened to melt right off my skull, and I shook my head viciously. “Never mind, it was s—"

  “I can lay down with you if that’s what you want, Natasha.” My whole body was on fire fueled my embarrassment and an almost innocent sense of happiness, and Erik smiled tenderly. Starting up the stairs once again, he was quiet even as I thrummed with pleasant feelings that I had never felt before. It was overwhelming, this sensation, this excitement, this throbbing in my chest that wasn’t unduly heavy or painful.

  The guest room Erik took me to was plainly decorated, and nerves tightened my gut as I shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat opposite me across the vast expanse of a blue quilt, facing away from me, and I inhaled a rattling breath. Closing my eyes, I worked to stabilize the furious emotions bouncing around in my chest.

  I didn’t kick off my shoes. I didn’t take off my pants or my shirt. I sort of flopped sideways, pulled up my knees, and wiggled so I wasn’t falling off the side of the bed. Goosebumps washed my down my back and across my chest, and tension gripped my spine in a vice as Erik laid on his back. His jeans rustled overly loud when he crossed his ankles, and the bed dipped when he propped his arms under his head to heave a sigh.

  But, when I blinked, I didn’t remember those horrible times, staring at the wall, shivering, afraid, shameful.

  42

  Erik

  My eyelid twitched as Natasha cried out in her sleep, and I clenched my fists tightly when her hand flung out to collide with my chest. I don’t know why in the fuck I thought the nightmares had dissipated, but bitterness soured my tongue as it stuck to the roof of my mouth. For the first time, I realized that Natasha must’ve turned that stupid fucking bug off permanently so I wouldn’t hear her nightmares anymore.

  The one time I had, I’d showed up at her door, and she was clearly spooked about it, in hindsight.

  Inhaling a hot, deeper than deep breath, I glared at the ceiling, but my thoughts were interrupted by the slight creak of the door. My mom poked her head in, and I cleared my throat roughly before lifting my own to watch her slip into the room. By my side, Natasha panted harshly, rubbed her knees together, and I held my breath as a fire engulfed my heart.

  There was nothing to say, and my mom touched my bicep comfortingly before Natasha suddenly jerked up. Her knee collided with her forehead, and the hairs on my body stood up from her shriek as she tumbled over the side of the bed. The hard thump of her hitting the floor rattled the whole house, and I crawled to the opposite side of the king mattress to hang over the side.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” Covering her forehead with both palms, Natasha panted furiously, and I sat up on my knees as she rolled around in pain. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

  Rasping the whisper over and over again, Natasha only paused when her face touched the hardwood, her muscles quivering too hard to sustain any sort of tension. Her eyelids popped open, and she felt around her for a second before realization marred her pretty face with an ugly sneer. Sinking against the floor, the self-hatred seething all over her features, seeping out of her pores, she inhaled a sharp whistle of a breath before sitting up abruptly.

  “You okay?”

  “Shut up. Don’t touch me.” The detached tone laced with shame, but, I mean, progress was progress, even if it sucked. I could see the revival in her eyes, the spark returning to those big, brown orbs as she slowly came back, and I gripped the edge of the mattress hard. “Shit. It happened again.”

  “Yeah. You nodded off. Took about T minutes before—” Slender brows rose in surprise at my admission, and I smiled grim
ly because I didn’t have a proper answer. “Your face alright?”

  “You know, Erik, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.” The gravity in her tone bristled the hairs on the back of my neck, and Natasha inhaled a shallow, shuddering breath as she pulled her knees to her chin. Sliding down to sit next to her, I held my palm up on my leg but didn’t push her, and her face paled a few noticeably shades. “That’s what they say, right? The first step is admitting you have a problem.”

  “That’s what they say, yeah.” My mom was still in the room, forgotten, ignored, if Natasha realized she was there at all. I nodded heavily. “You know your problems pretty well, I think.”

  “I’ve never said it out loud.” Tilting her head, Natasha gazed at me under heavy, reddening lids, and I clenched my jaw and held my breath as anticipation swarmed my insides. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, and I pursed my lips thinly as she gulped harshly. “I . . . I . . . ”

  My heart thundered against my ribs, but the blood didn’t drum in my ears to dilute Natasha’s voice. Licking her lips heavily, she exhaled a shivering breath, and she stretched her legs to rub her chest with stiff fingers.

  “I w-was . . . I was raped.” The confession rolled sluggishly off her tongue, almost transformed into a different word, but Natasha shuddered violently regardless. Ducking her head to hide behind her hair, she sniffled hard, and my lungs screamed for air even thought my brain ignored it. “I was raped.”

  Those three, little words were so powerful that the air rippled in the room, and my heart ached for Natasha as she clenched her hands tightly in her lap. Her little sobs were so different than any other tears she’d shed before, and the muscles in my arms started to cramp from the urge to take her hand, to comfort her in some way. She cried that tiny cry, that uncontrollable ugly cry, that cry that little kids did because they couldn’t process what they were feeling.