Jozef had shrugged it off as a strange turn of phrase. Now he wondered if the two incidents were connected.
Chapter Ten
“Krystoff!” Dasha’s shout echoed through the front hall of the mansion as she rushed down the huge double staircase toward them.
Jozef stood next to his uncle with a hand on his arm to steady him. Krystoff was pale with fatigue and the pain of his injury, but he managed a smile for his wife.
Shaun stood behind Jozef with two bodyguards at her back. The bodyguards would remain with Krystoff until Jozef could unravel the reason why Vasiliy had taken the head of the Koba family. Jozef wanted to be reasonably sure they wouldn’t attack again.
Aunt Dasha threw herself into Krystoff’s arms. He grunted, wincing as his exhausted and injured body took the brunt of her weight. She burst into tears and sobbed out her anger and fear into his lapel.
It was well known that Krystoff and Dasha hadn’t been a love match when their families made the alliance thirty years ago. The two had fought as only two bloodthirsty members of mafia royalty could. It wasn’t until Dasha had nearly died giving birth to their second child that Krystoff had realized he had feelings for his wife. They reconciled and became one of the most powerful couples in Europe.
Jozef touched his aunt’s head, attempting to gain her attention. Krystoff was swaying on his feet, dirty, injured and exhausted. He needed to find a shower and a bed as soon as possible. Dasha needed to calm down and take care of her husband.
Dasha looked over at Jozef and, as he was in the middle of signing his request to her, she flung herself at him. Unable to finish his sentence, he caught her and held her as she cried out her gratitude.
Jozef smiled in grim humour. Aunt Dasha was a force to be reckoned with. She had actively negotiated for her husband’s release, but now that he was safe, she was turning into a hysterical wife.
“Th-thank you for bringing my Krysto back to me,” she sobbed against Jozef who patted her back awkwardly.
Krystoff stepped in to peel her away and as she moved back from Jozef her eyes landed on their newcomer. She stiffened and frowned, her hand dropping to her robe pocket where Jozef was positive she kept a pistol.
“Who is this?” Dasha asked coolly, all trace of tears now gone.
Dasha was a regal woman. She held herself with an air of confidence and superiority at all times. She would soften around family, but never around a stranger, as her malevolent gaze made clear. A person was either family or an outsider. An outsider in the mansion, unless they were having an event, was not acceptable.
Jozef didn’t answer her question since she wasn’t looking at him. The bane of his life was attempting to communicate with people who seemed determined to look in the wrong direction.
“This is Dr. Shaun Patterson.” Krystoff made the introduction. “She helped save my life.” He pulled Dasha around to greet Shaun. “Dr. Patterson, this is my wife, Mrs. Dasha Koba.”
Dasha automatically put her hand out, eyeing the stranger in her home with curiosity. Shaun hesitated for a split second and then took the hand offered to her, squeezing it lightly before dropping it. Jozef took a hard look at Shaun. Despite her dusky skin, she looked pale and exhausted. She wasn’t supposed to be alive, so he hadn’t taken any pains to see to her comfort. Now he felt guilty. When was the last time she ate? Slept? She’d had to beg him to use the washroom earlier.
Jozef was used to being a solitary figure, even among the family. He was the guard dog. Brutal, loyal, dangerous. Characteristics that had served him well until now. He would have to make an effort to soften himself around Shaun, remember he had a woman now. Someone to take care of.
“Thank you for saving my husband’s life. I will be eternally grateful for this,” Dasha said with a modicum of warmth, her eyes surveying their tired guest. “I apologize for being curious, but can you please tell me how you came to be involved in our situation?”
Dasha was a sharp woman and Jozef searched his brain for a way to explain the day’s events in a way that would appease his aunt, who was even more fierce when it came to family than her husband. He didn’t need to bother, Shaun jumped in with the truth, perhaps in an attempt to gain his aunt’s sympathies.
“Your nephew kidnapped me from a hospital and forced me to help save a man who he ended up shooting anyway.” She sounded more offended than terrified, which Jozef took as a good sign. “Then he took me out to the woods, put a gun to my head and nearly killed me, too. We agreed that marriage was better than death. I patched up your husband after he was rescued, and now I’m here.”
The look on Dasha’s face was approaching comical. Though she could certainly be as vicious as any of their elite enforcers, she still lived to a certain standard. One did not talk business in the foyer of the mansion. Of course, Shaun wasn’t just any business, she was about to become the newest member of their family.
Dasha stepped forward, away from her husband and took hold of Shaun’s arms. “Oh, my dear, what a terrible story. It must have been such a shock to see that poor man die, and so suddenly.”
Jozef had a silent chuckle as his aunt skipped right over the kidnapping part of the story, making it sound like the man had spontaneously died and Shaun just happened to witness the entire thing. Shaun looked dazed as Dasha hurried her into the house.
“You must be exhausted after all that,” Dasha clucked. “I’ll have Stasia, my personal maid, set up a room for you and the cook will bring up a snack. You’ll want to get some rest after your ordeal.”
Jozef took hold of Shaun’s shoulder and tugged her back to his side, breaking Dasha’s hold. His aunt frowned at him, but Jozef rapidly signed that Shaun would be staying with him in his suite. He wasn’t about to let Shaun out of his sight. Not while she was so new to the house and the situation.
Dasha shook her head and frowned at Jozef. “She needs time to adjust, drahoušek. She should not stay in your suite until after the wedding.”
Jozef gave her a hard stare. He didn’t sign his thoughts. He didn’t need to. His family had become experts at deciphering his body language and facial expressions, rare as they were. He wouldn’t release Shaun to the care of his aunt. The doctor would be staying with him, married or not.
Dasha sighed and shrugged her shoulders, her concerned gaze on Shaun. Though Dasha was tough as nails, she did have a heart. She loved her nephew, but knew how brutal he could be. It was unlikely that Shaun would fall easily into marriage with the Koba’s second-in-command. Once she got some rest, she would very likely fight her fate and it would be Jozef’s job to make her see that her options were limited.
Still, Dasha knew better than to contradict him. After Krystoff, Jozef was next in line for head of the family.
“I’ll send some food up for the two of you.” Dasha’s gaze settled on Shaun once more and she seemed to hesitate before asking, “Would… could you please look at Krystoff in the morning? I want to be sure he’s one hundred percent after his ordeal.”
Shaun nodded and gave Dasha as much of a smile as she could, given her current situation. “Of course. I need to rebandage his hand anyway.”
“Excellent,” Dasha said briskly, taking her husband’s arm and pulling him toward the stairs. Over her shoulder she added, “We have a room we use as a makeshift infirmary. You are welcome to work in there while you’re with us.”
Jozef wanted to correct his aunt, remind her that Shaun’s placement was permanent. He didn’t want his doctor to think she might be able to one day leave them. Dasha was already climbing the stairs though, her back to them. Jozef gritted his teeth and pulled Shaun to the left, toward his suite of rooms. Another pet peeve of his, when people closed out conversations with him by turning away. Unless he punched them in the head to regain their attention and then force them to look at his hands while he signed, he was shit out of luck for ever getting the last word.
“I want my own room.” Shaun’s voice was slightly more strident as she made the demand, clearly fee
ling bolstered by his aunt’s seeming support.
He wanted to tell her that his aunt would be the first to put a gun to Shaun’s head if she were to become a threat to the family. Instead, he pulled her through the first floor of the mansion to his suite, slamming the door shut and locking it once they were inside. His suite consisted of a main room with his TV, couch and dining set, a washroom, an office, his room and a separate bedroom he'd converted into a gym.
Shaun yanked her arm from his grip and immediately tried the door. She reached for the lock, but Jozef took her hand and squeezed tightly. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he refused to release her. He dragged her further into the room and pushed her toward the couch.
She landed on it heavily and half fell sideways. “Stop pushing me around!” she snapped, gripping the back of the couch and righting herself. She glared up at him. “I don’t like being locked up, I don’t like being pushed and I don’t think I’m being unreasonable to expect my own room.”
Jozef was exhausted after a fucking long week with little to no sleep. He didn’t need attitude from this woman, even if she had a good reason to be mad. He needed her to settle down and accept her situation so they could get on with it. Namely, sleep.
Jozef did the only thing he knew how to do when confronted with a person who wasn’t listening to him. He pulled his gun from the holster under his leather jacket and pressed the barrel against her forehead, a reminder of her precarious situation. He did it automatically, without thinking. The gun had become such an extension of him that he saw it as more of an extra limb than a weapon.
Shaun clearly thought of it as a weapon. Her eyes widened with fear, tears giving them a shine as she stared up at him. Her entire body froze as though she thought he would pull the trigger if she so much as breathed.
Jozef regretted his action, since he'd told her he wouldn’t kill her and now she thought he would go back on that promise. He put the gun away.
She collapsed back onto the couch and let out a hiccoughing sob. She dropped her head into her hands and cried. Her shoulders shook and tears dripped from between her fingers.
He wasn’t sure what to do. The only women he’d ever had to comfort were his cousins when they were young. Both had grown into adults with the same backbone as their mother. They rarely cried anymore, at least not around him.
Jozef didn’t like Shaun’s tears, especially because he was the cause. He wanted to tell her to stop, to reassure her that he wasn’t going to kill her, but she wasn’t looking at him. He dropped to his haunches in front of her and touched her hair. She jerked back and lifted her head to look at him fearfully. Tears marked her stricken face. He hated that look, wanted to erase it from her face.
But he couldn’t. It was more than likely he would have to continue terrorizing her until she was forced to settle into her new existence. She was a saint among thieves, and he was head of the thieves. She didn’t belong in his world. In the long run she might end up wishing he’d killed her in that clearing.
The weight of his responsibility toward this woman settled heavily on him. She was a human and unless he intended to turn her into a mindless slave, he would have to find a balance between making sure she understood her place and preserving her core personality. For some reason, it was important to him that who she was remained intact while under his care. He’d made the decision not to kill her and now she belonged to him.
“I’ve never seen a real gun before… except for police officers.” Her voice was quiet and strained. She didn’t look him in the eye as she spoke but kept her gaze on her clasped hands. “I’ve never had a gun pointed at me and I’ve never seen someone die violently.”
Jozef reached out slowly so she could see his hand. He touched her knee with his knuckle, but nothing more. He didn’t want her to feel threatened again. He lifted his hand and tilted her chin until her eyes were on him.
You are safe.
She shook her head and a tear dripped down her face, creating a wet trail. “You put a gun to my head five times in the past two days. I don’t feel safe, Jozef.”
Jozef loved the way she said his name, soft and sweet, even though she spoke of her fear of him. He nodded thoughtfully. I will never again put a gun to your head.
She stared at him for several long seconds. “Can you make that promise?” she whispered.
Jozef lifted a hand to his chest and tapped over his heart. You have my word.
“Okay.” She let out a long sigh, the tension releasing from her shoulders. Once she was able to gather her composure, she looked around the room, curious for the first time. “I’m exhausted. Where can I sleep?”
She wasn’t going to like the answer. She wasn’t looking at him, so he was saved from having to answer. Instead, Jozef stood and held a hand out to her. She looked at it and then hesitantly placed her hand in his palm.
Jozef curled his fingers around hers, liking the feel of her delicate bones shifting beneath her skin. If he chose to close his hand into a fist, he could crush her.
He stood and drew her to her feet next to him. He waved his hand toward the door to his bedroom. Their bedroom.
Chapter Eleven
Jozef opened the door and indicated that Shaun should step through. She did as he asked and quickly stepped away from him. She opened her mouth to thank him for showing her to the guest room, but he stepped in with her, then closed and locked the door behind them. She turned warily as he strode across the room, dragging his leather jacket from his shoulders as he walked.
He tossed the jacket on a chair and reached for the buttons on his shirt. It was becoming rapidly clear that they were not in a guest room, as she had thought, but in Jozef’s room. A king-size bed occupied the space in front of a large stone fireplace, which was glowing brightly in the cool evening air. Someone had lit a fire in anticipation of Jozef’s arrival.
There was also a large battered leather chair, a small plush couch, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe in the room. Against the wall was a bookshelf, stuffed full, with several books tossed haphazardly on top. Though the room itself was large, it had a cozy feel. It was sparsely furnished, but the few furnishings he had were meant for comfort.
Shaun backed up and reached for the door, intent on going back out to the living room. Jozef was across the room so fast she was left gasping as he whirled her around and shoved her against the door.
He didn’t try to use sign language but allowed his stern gaze to speak for him. He had one hand on Shaun’s arm and the other on the door next to her head. His scent, a combination of masculine sweat and leather, made her head spin.
“Please don’t make me sleep with you,” she begged him, her gaze darting past him to the bed.
He growled in frustration and let her go, taking a step back and shoving a hand through his dark hair, making it stand on end. I won’t touch you, but you sleep in here.
She shook her head. “Why do we have to sleep together?”
This is not negotiable, he signed, his hands moving quickly as he conveyed his annoyance. Either you get in the bed or you take the couch. I don’t care which one. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.
Shaun’s head spun as she tried to keep up with his rapid hand movements. Before she finished absorbing the last sentence, he turned away from her, strode back to the fireplace and continued unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it from his shoulders and tossed it on top of his leather jacket on the chair next to the fireplace.
Shaun’s eyes were immediately drawn to the chiseled musculature of his back. It was as brutal as the rest of him, clearly defined muscles shifting as he moved. He had a black phoenix rising up his inked back, its wings stretched out across each of his shoulders, its beak pointing down. Her gaze strayed to the small round marks at the bottom of his back, near his spine. Bullet holes.
It hit her exactly how far out of her depth she was. Shaun had always thought of herself as a street savvy woman. She'd grown up with affluent parents and the perks of their jobs, but she had
n’t been sheltered. As a black woman, living in a predominantly Caucasian city, she’d experienced some racism in school. At the hospital she’d worked on all kinds of different wounds and illnesses. In her work with Doctors Without Borders, she’d seen and treated horrific injuries. But none of that had prepared her for what she’d experienced at Jozef’s hands.
Jozef finished undressing, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down his strong thighs. He stepped out of them and tossed them over the same chair. He touched the waistband of his boxer briefs, paused and glanced at Shaun, then dropped his hands, leaving them on.
Though Shaun had seen many naked bodies in her work as a doctor, this one was different. This one was dangerous. His flesh was marked with knife and bullet wounds. She traced them with her eyes, wondering how he came by each scar. One particular puckered bullet wound drew her attention and she slowly walked toward him, her eyes glued to his back.
He turned, looking at her suspiciously as she approached him. She hadn’t willingly gone to him once since he kidnapped her. But this was different; this was something she knew. Something she understood.
She tentatively touched his shoulder and tried to turn him around. He resisted, but eventually half-turned and moved his head so that he could keep his gaze on her. She brushed her finger across the middle of his back, just over the wound, tracing it, feeling it. Gooseflesh raised across his skin where she touched. It was a brutal scar, one that probably took months to heal.
"How did you survive?" Shaun asked quietly. "This is right over your heart. It should've killed you instantly or driven a shattered rib into the organ."
He turned from her, pulling away from her touch. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. She thought maybe he wouldn't answer, but he finally looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers.
Sin of Silence (Sinner's Empire Book 1) Page 7