Taking Emmaline: Power of Vashchenko Book 1

by Donn, KL

  Searching for the classifieds, I begin my hunt for a job and apartment. I’ve got another tedious ride in the morning, once the busses are running again, to reach the side of town that I’ll be able to afford. I should focus my job search in that area, as well. I don’t want to have to take transportation late at night or walk home in the dark.

  Panic threatens to consume me, and I close my eyes to remind myself that I can do this. I’m a strong woman who has spent her life taking care of everyone else, and now, it’s time to take care of me.

  I simply wish it wasn’t because everyone I’ve tried to love has rejected me.

  * * *

  Viktor

  One Week Later.

  Anger consumes me. Rage boils my blood.

  The only thing in the world who could bring me to heel is gone because I was a selfish prick and turned my back on her when she needed my comfort.

  “Haggen is still in town,” Kodiak repeats, sounding exasperated.

  “I heard you the first time,” I bark at him.

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “Let’s go see Marshall.” That worm is up to something, and I’d like to know what it is.

  Heading to the boathouse on the opposite end of my vast property, I feel Niko and Kodiak sharing looks behind my back. I’m not typically a deadly man; I don’t always have a need for violence. I leave that to them.

  Today is about vengeance.

  Not only has Marshall given Emmy years of torment and doubt, but he also laid hands on her. For that he must pay the price.

  The grass is saturated from days of rain, and the river is turbulent, rocking my boat from side to side as it’s tethered to the dock. Gloomy clouds linger in the sky, warning of another storm. Hopefully, one that will match the turbulence messing with my soul.

  A crack of thunder followed by a burst of bright lightning masks my entry as Marshall sits bound to a chair in the middle of the room. Water soaks the wood floor, and the lake entrance is overrun by foliage.

  “Hello, Marshall,” I greet. When I get no response, I pull up the leg on my pants and kick him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. He coughs and groans before opening his eyes. Standing over him, I don’t understand how any man would feel intimidated by this bastard’s weak nature.

  Squatting in front of him, I get a closer look at the damage Emmy caused when she slapped him with the wine glass in her hand.

  “She left a mark.” I nod my head in satisfaction. “This is good.”

  “Fucking bitch,” he spits out, either unknowing or uncaring of the danger he faces.

  “I come from Russia, you know this. I grew up in one of the worst organizations the motherland has ever seen.” Niko and Kodiak circle him and lift his chair, so he’s upright again. “I’ve watched the Bratva kill men for betrayal, women as pleasure, and children as payback.”

  Grabbing a chair for myself, I spin it, so the back is facing him, and I straddle it. I size up his face, his eyes, and watch his erratic heart beat uncontrollably in his chest.

  “When I was a teenager, I was shipped here to America to live with my uncle. My baby sister and parents were meant to come after. They did not make it.”

  “Pity,” Marshall mouths off. My fist hits his jaw before he can blink. Kodiak holds up his chair.

  “Nika was sent to France. She was safe. When I got word of my parents’ massacre, we returned home.” I point to my friends. “Nikolai, Kodiak, and I, we took the Bratva down. We slayed every member and made certain the Vashchenko name became feared across the eastern seaboard. There is not a man, woman, or child who will cross me.”

  Marshall’s beady eyes stare between the three of us, a thread of worry in his dark gaze. “What’s your point?” He still has the gumption to talk back.

  “I killed every man that hurt my family. I bathed in their blood. What do you think I would do to the one man who has hurt my love?”

  His eyes widen, and he swallows gruffly.

  “I wish to make you suffer.”

  Kodiak pulls out his knife—a bayonet single-edged blade, perfect for removing appendages—and flashes it in Marshall’s face.

  “You need to understand the lifetime of pain she’s suffered through.”

  I nod my head at Kodiak, and my Emmy’s father screams as his finger lands on the floor beneath his chair. His whimpering gets on my nerves.

  “That is but a moment of suffering, asshole.” I nod at him as I stand. “Clean him up,” I order Niko. I don’t want him perishing from an infection before I’m finished with him.

  “Feel better?” Kodiak laughs as he walks along beside me.

  “Nyet.” If anything, I feel worse. Marshall doesn’t deserve to breathe on the same earth as my Emmaline. He deserves a shallow grave at the bottom of the ocean.

  * * *

  Emmy

  Two weeks later.

  “You should see a doctor, Emmy,” my roommate, Allison, suggests as she holds my hair back from my face for the third morning in a row.

  I shake my head no again. “I’m sure it’s just the stress from moving and then starting at a new school. I’ll be fine.” She shakes her head as she stands and walks out of the washroom. I already know what the problem is.

  It seems incredibly strange, but it is what it is.

  A baby.

  I’m pregnant.

  And still a damn virgin.

  How sad is that?

  Only a couple times of him, us, being so lost in the moment that we took the risk, and now, I’m here with a baby by a man who doesn’t even want me.

  The irony of it is not lost on me as I stand up and splash water on my face. Brushing my teeth, I force down any nausea I’m feeling and smile as I enter our room. Allison is standing at the door with our bags, waiting for me to leave for our first class of the day.

  “Thanks,” I respond as she hands me my backpack. We aren’t quite friends, but we have bonded over the fact that we’re both loners and have very few friends at Georgia Girls’ Pre-College. Basically, it’s a summer prep school session between the last year of high school and the first year of college.

  As we begin walking towards the Literature building, I can’t help but wonder why I’m here. It was an off-chance that I would get in. A phone call to Madelyn, Viktor’s assistant, is the only reason I can even afford this place.

  At the time I came across this place, it was a desperate attempt, and I feel more uncomfortable here than anywhere else I’ve been. I wasn’t able to get an apartment because I was robbed in a shelter. I couldn’t find a job because I didn’t have a permanent address, and now, I’m stuck. I’m in a place I don’t really want to be, with a baby on the way—I took a test yesterday morning that was positive—and I have no idea what my next step is.

  Madelyn told me I could always call her for more money. She would give me anything I needed without question. But I don’t want to go down that road. It was my choice to leave home, to screw things up with Viktor, so it shouldn’t be his responsibility to take care of me when he no longer considers me a part of his life.

  Tears begin to well in my eyes again, and I press the heels of my palms into them to stem the flow. It barely works as we enter class.

  Deep breaths settle my nerves as I sit and listen to the droning voice of Mrs. Scott. Boredom and exhaustion have me struggling to stay awake.

  Daydreaming has me wishing for Viktor.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  8

  Viktor

  One Week Later.

  Sleep is overrated. I haven’t had a wink of it since Emmy left. I’ve picked up the phone to call her a dozen times, but I never know what to say. How to beg her forgiveness. All I’ve ever done is screw up with her. She deserves more. But when I think of her with another man, my vision goes dark, and my heart nearly beats right out of my chest.

  I assume she’s back in school, likely finished with her last final. I refuse to allow Dora to speak about her. I don’t know if I’ll
be able to handle the information and not fly off the deep end, straight into the abyss of horror.

  All I wanted was Emmaline to be mine. I wanted to give her the life she deserved. The one she was robbed of when her father decided gambling was far more important than making sure she was taken care of.

  “Viktor,” Madelyn snips from the doorway. She’s been pissed at me the entire month that Emmy has been gone. I guess in the few minutes of meeting my girl, she took a liking to her. Now, being in the same room as me makes her angry.

  “Yes?” I gaze up at her, my eyes blurry from the email I’ve been reading for an hour.

  “Dora is on the phone. Say hello and then shut up.” My eyebrows raise at her tone, and her glare only hardens.

  Picking up the phone, I do as I’m told. “Dora?”

  “Not one word from you, Viktor Vashchenko. Emmaline is missing.” I sit up straighter at that statement. “The night she came home, she left after everyone was asleep. I’ve called the police; I’ve looked everywhere Ben or Amanda has suggested. Gone to her school. Nobody seems to even know who this girl is!” Her distress is clear.

  “Where is Kelsey? What does she say?” That makes me angry that her name wasn’t the first Dora mentioned.

  “Not much. I don’t know what’s happening here, but when Emmy is not around, she is a completely different person. Something is not right in that woman’s head.”

  “I’m coming.” I hang up the phone. “Nikolai! Kodiak!” I scream. Moments later, Madelyn is holding my office door open with a smirk.

  “Emmy is missing,” I inform them as they enter the room. “Get the plane ready.” They rush out as I gather a few things I may need and stride towards Madelyn’s stock-still form. “What?” I ask as she watches me, biting her lip.

  Pushing me back into the room, she shuts the door. “Don’t be mad.” Motherfucker. “Emmy called me. A couple days after she was sent home. She needed help and had nobody else to turn to.”

  “What did you do, Madelyn?” Rage fuels me into growling like a rabid wolf.

  “I fast-tracked her application and paid her tuition to attend Georgia Girls’ Pre-College. It has summer courses to help her get into college. She could win scholarships.”

  Relief swamps me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She looks down at the floor before answering. “She’s so fragile right now, Viktor. She needed a friend more than a tattle-tale.”

  Fuck do I hate how much I understand. “Thank you, Madelyn. You’ll let me know how much I owe you?”

  “Wellll…” She blushes. “That’s the thing. GGPC costs like thirty thousand dollars, and I definitely don’t have that. I sort of…used your accounts.” I grin, pleased she would do that. “Also, I used your name as influence to get her in there. Turns out, people are scared of you.”

  “Give yourself a raise, Madelyn!” I kiss her cheek and race out the door, eager to collect Emmy and bring her home.

  Right where she belongs.

  Meeting up with Niko and Kodiak in the driveway, I interrupt Kodiak as he begins to speak. “I know where she is. Your woman is sneaky.”

  He frowns.

  Niko and I smirk.

  “I have no woman.”

  “Madelyn,” I say, and his scowl deepens before he gets in the car. His silence speaks volumes, more than any words could.

  “You’ll pay for that, friend,” Niko mutters as he climbs in next to me. I shrug, uncaring of the possible ramifications Kodiak could come up with.

  All I want, need, right now, is to hold my sweet Emmaline in my arms again. I was heartless and callous when she confronted me with her fears, and it was not my intent. I won’t make excuses for the inexcusable, but I will do my damndest to make up for it.

  I will gain her forgiveness and love once again.

  * * *

  Emmy

  What am I doing with my life? Why am I here? I thought GGPC was going to help me. I thought it was as good a place as any to finish my education and get prepared for college.

  The problem is, I have no interest in college. I never really have. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to attend, but also, I’m not interested in spending the next four years in school.

  With Viktor now a part of my past, and my mother ignoring me, I feel lost in a deserted wasteland. My life is one big joke after another.

  A father who wants to sell me.

  A mother who can no longer stand the sight of me.

  And a man who’s incapable of loving me.

  I’m destined to be alone, and accepting my fate is a hard pill to swallow.

  “Ms. Taylor.” I look up at Mrs. Scott and see that she has an annoyed scowl on her aging face. “Can you tell me the significance of this passage?”

  She points to the board, underlining a quote from the poem we’ve been analyzing for the past three days. I’m pretty sure by the collective eyeroll from the girls in my class, I was called upon a few times before answering.

  Love is a battlefield. It reads.

  “It’s a Pat Benatar song?” I shrug. She glares. I sigh before speaking again. “It’s a metaphor about love and war. You can’t have one without the other because they both eventually bring on hate.” The poem is from the second world war, and a soldier’s lost love. She left him while he was deployed, and this was his angered response.

  “While I dislike your glib remark, you are correct. Love and hate evoke the most visceral responses in the human nature–” I drown out her voice as I stare down at the book in front of me.

  I hate poetry. It’s a coward’s way of not revealing their feelings face to face, and I wish I could have relayed everything I felt about Viktor to him before he discarded me.

  I was prepared to give him everything. I don’t know how it happened, but I fell in love with the damn brute. Often, he seemed confused by his own feelings, but I saw through him into his soul, and the tiny glimpses of devotion I felt emanating from him were enough for me to hand my heart over on a silver platter.

  Stupid girl.

  I should have known better. Because of my age, people often think I’m childish and immature. Because of my upbringing, I feel like I’m ten years older emotionally. I recognize these feelings because they’re something I’ve longed for my entire life.

  Like this soldier, I’m a shell of the person I once was.

  “Emmaline.” My head pops up at that voice. The gruff cadence. The harsh accent.

  Viktor.

  I shake my head as tears begin to stream unheeded down my face.

  “I can’t,” I tell him.

  Viktor’s presence is so commanding that he has the entire class riveted to his every move as he strides towards me. Even Mrs. Scott. With intent and determination in his stare, he drops to one knee before me.

  “I am a fool, moya lyubov’.” The girl next to me sighs. “I was unprepared for your confessions, and my own insecurities surfaced. I took out on you what I should have killed your father for.” A collective gasp erupts around the room and, it’s Viktor’s turn to roll his eyes.

  “This is twice, Viktor, that you’re apologizing for cutting me out,” I respond after a deep breath.

  “Give me a third, and I will show you it’s a charm. Let me prove my worth to you, moy.” Whispers spread throughout the room about his accent and what he could be saying. “Don’t make me carry you out of here against your will, Emmy.”

  “Your threats don’t scare me.” I glare at him, my foolish heart softening at the look of love he continues plying me with.

  Leaning forward, he places a soft kiss on my jaw and whispers in my ear, “I need you like a dying man needs water. I love you like a starving man loves food. I crave you like a junky needing their next fix.” It’s almost sweet.

  “I know the turn around your mother greeted you with, Emmaline. Please allow me to help. Let me provide you with the family you most certainly deserve.”

  My throat clogs at the thought that he realizes neither
of my parents has any need for me. “How can you want me, when even they don’t?” I mutter through my tight throat.

  “Oh, Emmy,” he replies, kissing along my jaw again and speaking in his beautiful language. “You are my stars, the sun, and the moon. Emmaline Taylor, you are my forever.” He pulls back and lifts my chin so I can stare into his eyes. I may not have understood the words he spoke, but I comprehend the silence in his penetrative gaze.

  “I could listen to you speak to me in Russian for a thousand years,” I confess quietly.

  A triumphant smile graces his handsome face as he realizes he’s won.

  I was always meant to be his.

  Bumpy roads, careless actions, and a profound love can only lead to one thing.

  Proving the heartbroken soldier was right.

  Love truly is a battlefield.

  * * *

  Viktor

  I can breathe again.

  She hasn’t said the words of forgiveness yet, but we’re on the right path. Her hand is in mine. The nervous energy running through her as we collect her few belongings from her dorm will not deter me. I’ll do as I must to woo my way back into her heart.

  “How long have you been living in the States?” She stares up at me.

  I guess we’re jumping right into the getting to know one another stage. Her maturity makes me forget her actual age.

  “Almost half my life. I came with Niko and Kodiak when we were teenage boys,” I say. The details are for another time.

  “Why?” Her curiosity is natural.

  “The answer is complicated and more than I want to convey with so many ears around. Let me just say, it was not by choice.” I turn my head towards her, so I can gauge her reaction.

  Our eyes meet, and when she says, “I understand,” I can see she actually does.