by Lovell, LP
I get to my knees and straddle his body, our lips never breaking apart. He sits up and wraps his arms around me so tight that it feels as though he’d never let me go. His lips leave mine, pressing into the skin of my neck, warm and hard, demanding and yet giving. I scratch my fingers through his hair and cling to him, wishing that I could pause time and remain here, safe in his arms. I’ve always been alone, always fiercely independent, but having him has made me realize what it is to have someone. To be protected. And once you’ve known that…I have a feeling to be without it is its own form of cruel torture. His hand slides between my legs. He hisses out a breath when he realizes I’m not wearing any underwear beneath his oversized t-shirt. His fingers press against me and he groans against my throat on an open-mouthed kiss.
“So fucking wet, Morte,” he breathes. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and close my eyes when he pushes inside me. Every time with him is a shameless claiming, complete possession laced with something so raw and real that I almost feel as though I can’t breathe without it. Nero always feels like the very essence of life, right on the ragged edge at all times. He shifts beneath me and then his fingers are replaced by his cock pushing against me. His hands grip my hips, guiding me down over him slowly. I still, breathing heavily against his lips. It’s so intense. So all consuming. What was once a bloody battle now feels like the sweetest surrender, the melding of two war-torn souls embracing each other’s scars. I slowly roll my hips over him and his breath stutters, his arms pinning my body to his. Pleasure fires through me and I throw my head back on a low moan. His lips meet my jaw and move down the column of my throat. His tongue and teeth work over my skin in a frenzy. He sucks one nipple into his mouth before biting down hard enough that I instinctually flinch away from him. Huffing a small laugh, he yanks me closer and threads his fingers through my hair before bringing my face to his. Our lips meet and the frantic kisses slow, growing deep and drugging. This tension hangs in the air between us—all the words neither of us can say—and I wonder if he knows? Both his hands cup my face and he tilts my head back, sliding his tongue across mine, push and pull. Back and forth. I think of leaving him and my chest tightens because it’s the last thing I want. But this isn’t our reality, this right here is a dream, a life we have no right to. I see that now, and as hard as it is to let go of dreams, at some point, we must wake up. He pushes up against me, staking his claim on me, marking me in every way. My heart squeezes in my chest and I cling to him more tightly as I feel myself splinter apart. I try to erect the steel walls that I need to protect myself, but my heart remains painfully exposed. His movements become slow and teasing. He’s so deep, he’s practically a part of me. A slow wave of pleasure builds and then crashes over me, rolling on and on. I press my lips to his, squeezing my eyes shut and I feel a tear track down my cheek. He stiffens beneath me, his movements becoming jilted and brutal as he groans my name over and over.
“I fucking love you,” he growls, touching his forehead to mine. His breath washes over my face and I inhale the scent of him: cigarettes and whiskey tinged with mint.
“I love you,” I whisper, pushing him back on the bed. Our eyes meet and he strokes the curtain of hair away from my face. I see his feelings reflected right back at me, the kind of obsession that consumes absolutely. Ours is a love that burns so hot and bright that it destroys everything in its path. Separate, we are strong, but together we are unstoppable. And I’m about to separate us. I hate it, but I do what must be done. I must believe that what we have will transcend time and distance. I’ll need him, even if it’s just the simple thought of him.
Closing my eyes, I slide my hand beneath the pillow. I almost hope he stops me because I don’t want to do this. It breaks my heart to betray him. I lean in, kissing him gently, allowing my lips to linger over his. My fingers wrap around the small canister and I think of Anna. In a lightening quick move, I jab the dart into the side of his neck. He stills and I pull back, meeting his shocked expression. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking as the tears now pour freely down my face.
“Una, no,” he rasps. His hand wraps around my throat, and I do nothing to fight him off as he squeezes hard.
Instead of pulling away from him, I push closer, kissing him. My tears spill onto his lips. I can taste them on my tongue. “I love you, Nero. Trust me.” His eyes start to droop and his hold loosens. “One day, I will return to you.” His eyes roll back in his head, and I kiss him one last time before I slide away from him, climbing out of the bed. I throw on a pair of black jeans and a hoody before I grab the bag I left under the bed. I spare him one last glance, and then, for the second time, I leave Nero with his scent still clinging to my skin and the taste of him on my lips. Only, this time, it feels like I just ripped out my own beating heart. This time there is so much more at stake.
I move through the apartment, careful not to make any noise. I’m pretty sure I’m going to encounter some of Nero’s men at some point, but I’m ready for that. I can’t let them dart me again. Nero will literally chain me in a basement somewhere and never let me out. I slink through the living room and pause when I hear a loud click. Freezing, I slowly shift my gaze to the couch. The bright red end of a cigarette glows in the darkness and I can just make out Rafael’s features. I reach for the gun at the back of my jeans, wrapping my fingers around it slowly. If he tries to stop me…
“You are going to him,” he says, his voice low and deep.
“Do not try and stop me. I do what I must.”
He leans forward, allowing the cigarette to hang loosely from his fingers as he props his elbows on his thighs. “You will sacrifice yourself for her?”
“Yes.”
“And your child? You will sacrifice your child for her?”
I clench my teeth. “I thought you…felt something for her.”
He sighs and pushes to his feet, moving toward me. I can just make out his coal black eyes in the dim light. “Yes, but Anna would never wish you to sacrifice an innocent child, Angel.”
“I have a plan.”
He takes another slow drag of his cigarette. “Ah, you and Nero and your plans.”
“This one…it doesn’t involve Nero.”
He’s silent for a moment. “How do you know he will release Anna?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t.” I feel like I’m free-falling, trapped in a hopeless situation. But Nero always says life is just a giant chess game. All I have to do is position key players. “I need you to do me a favor,” I say. He nods. “If he doesn’t release Anna, bargain for her return. Once he has me, he doesn’t need her. Let him put her to good use elsewhere.”
“Bargain what?”
I stare at him for a second. “You have access to a port…”
“Yes.”
“Offer him the use of it. Getting arms over the southern border is the easiest access point into America, but the cartels won’t allow the Russians any foothold.”
He frowns, saying nothing as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. “That would cause problems.”
I glance nervously towards the top of the stairs. I don’t know how long that tranquilizer will work for. I’m guessing he went on the lighter side of the dosage for my body weight. Nero weighs more than twice what I do. “Look, it won’t be for long. Anyway, Nicholai is not one to break his word. I think he’ll let her go.”
He shakes his head. “You are his favored pet, Angel. And you have proven unruly. He has the means to control you, do not think that he will give that up easily.” I nod. “Go. I did not see you.”
“Thank you.”
“And Una…”
“Yes?”
His eyes drop to my stomach, a pained expression crossing his face. “Be safe.”
I turn away from him and head for the elevator, palming both my guns as I descend into the parking garage. When the doors glide open, I expect to find half an army down here, but there’s only two guys in suits. Both have cigarettes in hand and are staring
at me blankly as though they just received a surprise guest. I charge the first guy, pistol-whipping him hard enough to knock him out. The second goes for his gun, and I drop, kicking his legs out from underneath him and nailing him in the temple with my fist. I remain crouched, my eyes darting over every shadowy inch of the parking garage before I get up and jog towards my motorbike still parked where I left it all those months ago. I take the key from my pocket and swing my leg over the black and chrome machine. It coughs and splutters as I turn the key, but eventually roars to life. If there was no army of Nero’s men before, there will be soon. I place a small earpiece in my ear and swing my bag onto my back before I’m wheel spinning out of the parking garage. My phone rings, buzzing in my pocket. I press a button on my ear piece and Billy James’ voice comes over the line.
“Where am I meeting ya?” he says in his thick southern accent. Billy is a pilot who has gotten me out of some dicey situations. He’s very good at forging the necessary paperwork for bogus flight plans. He’s a handy guy to know, and most importantly, he has no links to the Italians.
“Teterboro. I’ll be there in about half an hour,” I shout over the roaring engine of the bike.
“Yes ma’am.” He hangs up and I drop the bike a gear, sending it hurtling towards the George Washington bridge. I may be away from Nero, but I never underestimate his power or reach. New York is his city, and as long as I’m in it he can catch me. I don’t know what scares me more now, Nicholai or what Nero will do if he catches me. He’s going to be so pissed. I wish I could have explained this to him, but he won’t listen to rational when it comes to me or the baby. Nicholai taking Anna has forced my hand, but it also made me realize there is nowhere we can run. We could fight, but he has us outgunned in every way. He got to Anna, and that means he can get to me, so I’m taking control. I’m taking a page out of Nero’s book and playing it smart, being strategic. I will end this, one way or another.
I drive the half an hour outside of the city, checking my mirrors constantly for approaching cars. When I pull up to the runway, the guard takes one look at me and waves me through. Again, Nicholai’s reach is far. This is one of the runways we use to move in and out of the country unnoticed. The Elite are ghosts, and ghosts fly under the radar at all times. The Americans need never know of our existence, not even aliases if it can be helped.
I drive the bike over to hangar six and park it in the corner, pulling a tarp over it. I have no doubt that Nero has a tracker on it, but I’ll be long gone by the time he finds it. Billy leans against the steps of a small private jet, his thick arms folded over his gut and a cigarette hanging from between his lips.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to smoke around jet fuel,” I say dryly.
He smiles, taking the smoke and flicking it across the hangar. I roll my eyes. Jesus, this is what happens when you employ a redneck to fly you around. I shove a stack of bills into his hand and climb the steps.
“Well ain’t you cheerful tonight, blondie? Ya know, I dropped everything to fly you.”
I stop at the top of the steps and turn to face him with a smile painted on my face. “Very kind of you. I’m sure that ten grand helped.”
He sniffs as he walks up the steps. “Ain’t gonna hurt.” That’s what I thought.
I take a seat on one of the leather chairs and lean back in it, bracing my head against the headrest. My stomach is churning with anticipation. I wish I could turn back, I really do, but I push those thoughts aside. I focus on the part of me that’s been lying dormant. I search for the girl that experienced too much too young, that saw horrors and did things her own fragile mind couldn’t comprehend. The girl who became a monster. I need to be that girl again. The girl I was for so many years. That girl was broken and unfeeling and she missed out on so much, but she was capable of taking down Nicholai. I now have to balance the need to become the beast without allowing it to consume me. I know whatever Nicholai has in mind for me isn’t pretty. It’s so easy to just slip into that dark place where fear and pain do not exist. That place is easy, but it’s also dangerous. I could easily lose myself there and forget what I’m fighting for. I can never forget. The memory of Nero, of what we have…Nicholai will try to strip me of it. Nicholai always told me that love is weak. He forced me to shoot Alex, the boy I loved, just to prove it. But he’s wrong. Love can make you stronger than ever, because the fact is, Nero and I are stronger together than we are apart. And with him at my side, we are a force of nature, a fucking hurricane. Nicholai has no idea the kind of hornet’s nest he is kicking. Nero may not be standing beside me here, but I know he is mine and I am his, and that will have to be enough to make me keep fighting. I know he will rain hell down on Nicholai in every way he can, and my capo can be quite inventive. This is a war on two fronts.
Several hours later and the plane bumps onto the runway. I managed to sleep a little but it was interrupted with violent dreams of blood and torture. As soon as the plane comes to a stop, I stand up.
“There’s a jacket there for ya,” Billy shouts from the cockpit. I pick up the winter jacket tossed over one of the spare seats and put it on. I hadn’t even thought of that, and, of course, Russia is freezing at this time of year.
“Thanks!” I shout back and descend the steps. My boots leave footprints on the snowy runway. The freezing wind bites at any exposed skin, making me shiver violently. I’d forgotten what real cold feels like. Moscow is like an apocalyptic hell in winter. We’ve landed in another private airport on the outskirts of the city, and now, Nicholai will know I’m here. He has spies everywhere, but this is a bratva entry point and is constantly watched. I pick up my pace, jogging to the gate that exits the airport and ducking beneath the barrier. The guard there makes no effort to stop me. The airstrip is right in the middle of a small town, again, so that it can be easily monitored. I make my way down one of the side streets and glance over my shoulder quickly before stopping outside an old, run-down looking garage. The paint is peeling from the door, and the hinges sit at a strange angle as the rotted wood sags heavily. Taking my bike keys from my pocket, I select a small rusted key and unfasten the iron padlock, wiggling the key in the frozen lock before it finally releases. I have to heave my entire weight behind each door to push them open and reveal an older model Jeep Cherokee. All over the world, Sasha and I have safe houses, storage lockers full of supplies, cars. This is one of Sasha’s.
I go to the back and feel inside the tail pipe for the key. I unlock the door and slide behind the wheel, watching as thick clouds of fog swirl in front of my face. I turn the ignition over and the car coughs. A a low whirring sound comes from the laboring engine before it begrudgingly sputters to life. This is it, the final leg of my journey, and as I pull out onto the dark Moscow streets, it feels very much as though I’m driving right up to the gates of hell.
Minutes drift into hours, and I think of Nero. I glance at my phone, noting the blinking red battery. I think about it for only a moment before I’m dialing his number. It’s stupid and sentimental, and I know better than anyone that I have no room for sentiment—but just one last time.
“Una.” His voice is strained and tight, laced with a rage that would make grown men shrink back in fear.
“Capo,” I whisper.
There’s a beat of silence. “You’re in Russia.”
“I know you don’t understand, but…”
“Turn the fuck around, right now. Wherever you are, stop. I’ll come for you.”
“I can’t,” I say quietly.
“You would do this? You would hand him our baby?”
He sounds so hurt, and behind all that rage I know he must be in agony. My eyes prickle with unshed tears again and I bite my lip angrily. “Please trust me. I have a plan. You will have the baby.”
There’s a pause. “But not you?”
I say nothing for a moment. “I promised I would come back to you in one way or another.” Even if he only gets a piece of me, that baby will be all the best pieces. The un
tainted ones.
“Morte, please…” His voice breaks, and I squeeze the steering wheel tight until my knuckles turn white.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“Una…” I hang up and a lump forms in my throat. Emotions threaten to bubble over, but I lock them down. I shove them into a deep, dark recess of my shattered heart, and erect a steel wall around it. That is where Nero will live until I can see him again, or until I die. He’ll remain locked behind impenetrable steel because the Una that Nicholai wants, his little dove, she cannot love.
After hours of driving, I turn down the desolate track barely even noticeable in the thick snow, but I could find this track with my eyes closed. In the same way that a bird always knows where to migrate, this is instinctual. I once called this place home, after all. The track disappears into the dark of the night. A wall of white snow rushes at my headlights as I follow the tree line. Eventually, a bright spot of light becomes visible in the distance. The closer I get, the brighter and bigger that singular light becomes. I stop the car right in front of the eight-foot tall chain-link gate. Razor wire looms ominously, the jagged edges casting shadows through the light.
I cut the engine and close my eyes, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. This is it, the moment it all ends. I hear the heavy click of the gate followed by the rickety clicking of it sliding back along the fence line. When I open my eyes, two figures are standing in the gap, the snow eerily billowing around them. My numb fingers reach for the door handle, and I pull it. The second the door opens, bitter-cold winds rips through me and I shiver violently. I force myself to stand and face the two men in front of me. I will not show them fear because fear is power.