Bratva Dark Allegiance: The Complete Collection

by Raven Scott

  Vibrations ripped up my arms, and I pursed my lips thinly as my gaze refocused on my phone. Answering the call, I couldn’t help my smile as I lifted the speaker to my ear.

  “Hey. I was just about to text you. Guess what I did today?” Swishing back and forth, I bit my bottom lip as the wind whistled into my ear through the line. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m gonna kill someone, that’s what I’m gonna do. Damn— fucking— you know what I hate really, really deep down? People that don’t move the fuck out of the way when they get their coffees and stand there and take all the damn time in the world.” My smile tenderized as his grumbling beat against my cheek, and Reece huffed into the receiver before clearing his throat. “What’d you do today? You sound excited.”

  “I quit all my writing jobs. I just got the last confirmation email. I’m officially unemployed.” I practically chirped my excitement, and I twirled around in my chair as my happiness and relief over my decision expanded my chest. “Are you doin’ anything tonight?”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, Riley. Unfortunately, I have somewhere I have to be tonight, and I won’t be done until late, I don’t think. My boss, Vanessa— she’s a slave driver. She won’t shut the fuck up until I do the job.” He was in such a crap mood, and I paused in my chair to purse my lips thinly. Maybe, my silence in itself was a question, drawing a deep, tired sigh over the line. “Sorry, Riley. I don’t want to take it out on you. It’s so stupid, though. I got put on this job last minute, and no one’s done what they’re supposed to, but they act like it’s my fault that the whole thing is a mess.”

  “No, no— it’s totally okay. Bitch all you want. I’m happy to listen, Reece.” All I knew about Reece’s work was that it paid a lot, and he had worked for the same person his entire adult life. His questioning me at the restaurant about Brandon floated through my mind’s eye— maybe, Brandon’s resume had popped up, and the hiring manager asked if they knew each other?

  “I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty damn good at my job, right. I swoop in, make all the problems go away, some idiot gets promoted. . . all is good. But this is really getting out of hand. As much as I appreciate Vanessa’s faith in me, I really wish she’d fuck off. If she can’t find people that are at least putting effort into it, and wanting to learn and advance, then she needs to rehaul her whole operation. I’ve tried to give her some recommendations, but she always hires these fucking idiots.” His tone became gruff again, and I hoisted myself from my computer chair to head down the short hallway. “I work for her because my boss told me to, but Vanessa can honestly choke on a dick. Sometimes, she’s bearable, and ever since my mom died, she’s been okay-er than usual, but. . .”

  “She’s the one that asked you to be a guard dog for that guy in December, right?” Reece groaned loudly, and I crossed the carpet onto tile to stand in front of the refrigerator. “You did it, though. Why don’t you just tell her ‘no’?”

  “Because if I tell her ‘no’, she’ll just get someone else to do it, and I need the money. New York City ain’t cheap, baby. It’s not like what Vanessa wants is specialized or anything. All I do is basically research, check that everything’s in line, and press a button. The Network is flooded with people that can do that. I just happen to be first in line for jobs because Vanessa and I work for the same dude.” My lips parted in an ‘o’, and Reece cleared his throat of its roughness before the whipping wind suddenly disappeared from the background of the call. “I skirt their weird line between independent contractor and salaried employee. I have a non-compete, which means fuck me if I quit or get fired, but there’s also certain types of jobs I’m allowed to take that don’t come from my boss. My contract is like 11 fucking pages long. It’s longer than my mom’s categorized will.”

  “Does this ‘dude’ hire people often?” The question slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and Reece snorted roughly. Opening the refrigerator, I cocked my head to hold my phone to my ear with my shoulder. “I’m just sayin’. . . it’s worth a shot just to ask. I’ve got a ton of marketing experience, and just because I got tired of being my own boss doesn’t mean I won’t like doing it for someone else. That’s what killed me, anyway— the stress and stuff. But if I’m an employee, it’s a lot less stress.”

  “I’ll ask, but I can’t guarantee anything, Riley. I’ve heard rumors that there’s gonna be an expansion, though. But— hey, you should really take your time, Riley. Quitting is great, but you’ve been through some shit recently. It’s not gonna kill you to take a few days and, like, go to a spa or something.” The concern in his tone warmed my cheeks and made my heart skip a beat, and I smiled wide. “I can recommend a place, if you want. It’s upstate, though.”

  “That’s really sweet of you, Reece, but I’m just gonne stay home. I have a personal spa thing I bought last year, and I can probably convince Hannah to come over when she gets back from work. She’s always down for wine.” Hannah easily drank in a week what took me a month to get through, but I didn’t have her over often. If she did have a problem, I wasn’t going to enable her, of course. . . there was no indication she was an alcoholic, though. “Do you want to text me when you’re done, and you can come over?”

  “Ah. . . chances are it’ll take me until the early morning, at least. I’ll text you, but I’ll probably end up just heading home and passing out. Night work fucks me up really bad.” The speaker crackled as Reece spoke, and I moved my phone to my other ear before reaching to grab a package of bacon and the eggs. “Has your mom tried to contact you at all?”

  “No. Which is great, but also not so great, you know?” A fury of emotions raged war in my chest, and I set my armful on the counter to reach into a lower cabinet for a pan. My mouth dried, but I could only get so upset about it at this point. “Honestly, it feels like shit, but that still is better than when she was calling me.”

  “I think the thing that sucks the most is when it ends up see-sawing, Riley. If you think talking to your mom is doing more harm than good, don’t talk to her. Don’t even call her to wish her a happy birthday or whatever. It’s like trying to get back together with a—” The fine hairs on my cheek bristled when Reece caught himself, but he was right. Leaning against the counter, I smiled when he sighed in audible frustration. “Sorry. People don’t change, Riley, unless they acknowledge they’re wrong in the first place. And I seriously doubt your mom will ever admit she was wrong.”

  “Yeah. . . I’m starting to realize that. I don’t want to be that person that cuts her parents out of her life, but. . .” Trailing off, I sighed softly while my heart ached in my chest from the very notion. “It’s like being an orphan— worse, in some ways.”

  “If you were raped, would your mom be upset?” My heart nearly stopped at that, and Reece’s tone darkened as goosebumps washed down my arms. “If you were raped, and it had nothing to do with Black Cat, would your mom be upset? Or would she somehow connect it to your kink, and blame you for it? What if you were murdered? Can you say in good faith that your mom would not say ‘well, she was asking for it because she likes sex a particular way’? If some random stranger beat you to within an inch of your life, would your mom not tell you it’s your fault? Would she even go to the hospital?”

  My mouth dried at the gravity roughening Reece’s tone, and the silence rang in my ears. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, and a disgusting taste slathered on my tongue. Reece was quiet, not even his breaths reaching through the line as I stared, unfocused, at the grout between the tiles.

  “No. . . I don’t think she would.” Which question was I answering? Slowly lowering my phone, I gasped a shuddering breath as the blood drained from my face. It doesn’t matter. The answer for all the questions is the same.

  12

  Reece

  “I’m doing it right now, damnit. What got stuck up your ass today, huh?” Growling into my Bluetooth, I reached to adjust my sight as Vanessa sighed sharply in my ear. “I don’t snipe every day, you
know. This is complicated shit.”

  “You knew this was a snipe job, Reece— don’t complain. If you didn’t really want me to call you when I got news about your girlfriend, why’d you demand it?” I tensed, pausing with my finger on the trigger to blink hard. My target was coming out of this fucking hotel any second, and I grunted lowly before fixing my gaze through the scope.

  When the request stated ‘long-distance’, I didn’t think it meant over 500 yards. Vanessa breathing down my fucking neck didn’t help at all, either.

  “Call me back in a minute or two.” Reaching to end the call, I inhaled deeply and focused with as much brain capacity as I could manage. I couldn’t let Riley get between me and my target. This was a huge job with a huge paycheck, and I knew I was a little underqualified. “Shit.”

  The rich kid, barely 18, that’d killed several strippers, got drunk and beat up a few homeless people, and had Daddy Dearest pay is bail so he could flee to Mexico. . . I hated kids like that. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I watched the side door of the courthouse through slits. Once this dick got into the car waiting for him, it’d be over. There wouldn’t be another chance.

  I was just glad the kid was a legal adult— I wouldn’t have taken this job even if it was the day before his birthday. Eh, maybe not. He’s got a history. That’s why Daddy wants him gone.

  How fucked up. Honestly, it was a great reversal metaphor somehow. Riley and my conversation about her mom still rang in my ears, and here I was— about to shoot dead someone’s son at his own father’s request. Why? Because Daddy failed as a parent.

  Through the scope, down the long barrel of my rifle, I watched the metal side door swing open. All thought drained from my head, and I hooked my finger around the trigger but didn’t touch it. This kid was mad, red and heaving and throwing his arms around. He wore sagging jeans and a Tapp-Out shirt two sizes too large— and a fucking bejeweled hat.

  Inhaling in preparation when he paused to scream at who I assumed was his attorney, I pursed my lips and touched the trigger. The bang that rumbled from the suppressor was lost under all the noise floating up from the city, and it didn’t die before the kid dropped.

  Dead. I hadn’t shot him in the head but judging by the amount of blood gushing from his neck, I was sure I’d hit one, if not both, arteries. The panic was too far away, but I took my eye off the scope to exhale slowly.

  Just in that moment, my Bluetooth rang, and I reached to tap it before pulling my rifle off the edge of the building.

  “So, what did Jerry find?” I sat back on my ass to start taking apart my rifle, and Vanessa hummed softly as the line rustled loudly. “Did the request come up anywhere else, or did we get a reply?”

  “We got a reply. I replied back that you’d take the job and am waiting on a response. You know how this goes, Reece. Unless they’re familiar with this, it takes a long time. The fee’s pretty low, too. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t kill someone for just ten-thousand dollars. If this is that Brandon guy that beat up your girlfriend, why don’t you just find him yourself?” Vanessa’s was a valid question, but my concern wasn’t that Brandon would escape me.

  No, it was that Riley would somehow be implemented if I did kill him, and then realize I was the one that did it. Stepping from beating him up to deliberately searching him out to put a bullet in his brain. . . who in their right mind was cool with that?

  “Riley was attacked two weeks ago. If Brandon turns up dead now, they’ll think it was her. I do have experience with this shit, Vanessa.” Flipping the sniper case closed, I locked the locks and stood up to stretch my arms over my head with a groan. “Frankly, all evidence points to Brandon, but I’ve wondered if he has the balls to do anything more than bitch about it. From what Riley said, he would hold a grudge, but he wouldn’t act on it unless he was in a fit of rage or something, and she was right there in front of him.”

  “I looked into him like you asked. You want the details now, or. . .?” I left the roof of the abandoned building with quick steps, but I wasn’t in a rush. What was the point? If ever the cops did eventually come here, they wouldn’t find anything. There were no cameras for two blocks, and my equipment would be removed within the next half hour. Man, it really pays to have an assistant.

  “No. Just email them to me. Since we’re on the subject of Riley— do you have anything open in marketing?”

  “Uh— no, but I have plenty of ammunition to fire someone to make room for her if she needs a job.” Vanessa spoke up instantly, and I nodded to myself; she’d been raped and had a huge soft spot for other women that’d been through such terrible experiences. Rumor had it that Vanessa also tortured Carlyle’s wife’s rapist to death before being transferred to New York City. I couldn’t imagine that scene, but I sure as shit believed it. “I’ll get on that, then.”

  “Thanks. Let me know if any more information comes up.” She hung up, and I ducked out onto the sidewalk to take off my gloves. Glancing around, relief slumped my shoulders when I saw a few homeless people hanging around a burning, metal drum.

  Reaching into my pockets, I fished for some money on my way over. Winter was rough for these people, and often times, it was just damn bad luck for a good many of them.

  “How are you guys doin’?” There was a time when I was homeless right after moving here. I was a kid, didn’t know anyone— was relying on the kindness of the scumbag that hired me to run packages for him. I always had a sofa to sleep on but having nothing but the clothes on my back hit somewhere special.

  Wary eyes glanced over me as I tossed my gloves and burner phone into the fire, and I handed a $50 bill with an encouraging nod. There was an unspoken rule, doing this, that if anyone came snooping, to keep their mouths shut. Weathered, dreary faces didn’t shift at all as the three of them each took a bill, one by one, and I nodded in satisfaction.

  No doubt they’d heard my shot, but a crispy fifty would last them a week— two, if they stretched it.

  Turning to walk away, I reached to ruffle my hair with both my hands and take a huge breath of the crisp air. Today was warm for late January, and I hugged my head between my arms as I walked. I’d taken the bus to one of its last stops about six blocks away, but today was a good day for a walk.

  “I’m kinda hungry.” Mumbling to myself, my lips quirked downward as I debated calling Riley. I had turned off my primary cell phone, and it had to stay that way until I got home, but. . . would she want to see me after what I’d said? “I guess the only way to know is to ask.”

  My mom always said that there was no use wondering when the truth was right in front of me. All I needed was the courage to ask questions when I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer. She spoke from experience, of course— all those questions she’d regretted not asking. Are you okay? Are you unhappy here? Do you want to move? What can I do to help?

  I wasn’t bitter that my mom had never asked me those things, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake. Riley didn’t deserve doubt. She was trying, and that was more than many others could say.

  “I’ll ask her to dinner when I get back around. I already told her I would be gone late, so there’s no point in creating a circumstance where I have to lie to her.” Okay, maybe that’s harsh. There was nothing to gain by telling Riley the specifics of my job, and she didn’t seem keen on prying answers from me. I’d specifically explained my work the way I had because she could interpret it any way she wanted without my input. Did I work an office job that required me to travel? Was I a technician of some sort? Or were there just trash jobs that got stuck on me because I was capable and immediately available?

  But those were all questions Riley wouldn’t ask because she didn’t care. We weren’t at that stage. Yet.

  “We’ll get there, though. At least I have some time to think of a way to tackle this bullshit.” If Vanessa did get Riley a job, it’d be with one of the more legitimate fronts. I wouldn’t have to worry about Riley finding out by accident that being a handyman meant m
ore than just fixing the power buffer or a leaky faucet. Which I knew how to do, of course. After all, the best lies were the ones closest to the truth.

  13

  Riley

  Bopping my head to the beat flowing through my headphones, I puffed out my lips in thought as I scanned the meat section. There wasn’t anything that just jumped out at me as delicious. All the steaks just looked like steaks, and I couldn’t even think up something to make with shaved beef in this moment.

  I should’ve planned before going to the grocery store. At least, I would have something to look forward to cooking when I got home. The thought tugged down my lips, and I rocked back on my heels. Fishing my phone out of my coat pocket, my thumb hovered over Reece’s text thread for a brief second. It was nearly 3am, but I had nothing to lose by not texting him.

  ‘Riley: Do you want to come over for a super late dinner? What do you like?’

  Staring through my phone screen, I found myself wishing that I had offered something other than food. That was so boring! There was nothing to do but eat, and then say goodbye. And that was based entirely on the assumption that Reece would come to my apartment in the first place.

  “What a coincidence. . .” I gasped as a strong, lean arm wrapped around my waist. Deft fingers pulled out my earbud, and Reece’s strong, luscious timbre steamrolled through my skull. “I was going to ask you the same thing, Riley.”

  “Oh— what are you doing here?” My nipples tightened when Reece kissed my cheek, his fingertips teasing my breasts as he pulled back. We’d been playing this game for weeks, now, but I had only seen him that one time at Black Cat. He and I were supposed to meet up again, but he had a last-minute meeting that brought him out of the city.