Nikolai (Dangerous Love Series Book 1)

by Kristin Alexander

  I felt sorry for this girl, which surprised me because I generally didn’t care about anything. There was something about her helplessness, her despair that was pulling at me to take care of it. I shook my head to dispel these uncharacteristic, and unwanted, thoughts.

  Hannah sighed again—it was recurring theme with her. "You do understand that his dad is the principal, right? I tried to go the principal about him at the end of last year, and all he did was tell me that I should give old Jeff a shot.” She swung her arm up, her hand in a fist, like the principal gave her a punch in the arm when he said it. Dickhead. “When I said I would go to the police if he didn't stop, Principal Connors said that they had a lot of friends and family on the police force, and it probably wouldn't be worth my time. Then he said it wouldn't look good to any prospective colleges if it came out I was making false accusations about fellow students to the police,” she said as her face flushed with resentment.

  The anger appeared to drain away as she tilted her head back against the wall in defeat. I thought she had looked glum earlier in her story, but now her face was a picture of misery and impotence. I was beginning to hate how it made me feel to see it on her face. A face I barely knew existed an hour ago.

  "You have to tell someone, Hannah. What about your dad?" Of course, if it were my dad, Connors would be dead already.

  Hannah shook her head. “My dad took off years ago. My mom works a waitressing job, and barely makes enough to support me and my sister. She doesn't need this mess, but I do need to go to college, so I thought I could ride this out. This year, though"—she swallowed hard and leveled me with dark blue eyes that looked hard and sad, reflecting her despair—"this year has gotten too hard.”

  I felt my blood pressure spike dangerously high. This shit was starting to make me crazy. I didn't even know Hannah, and I didn't care about her, but I was starting to fucking hate every word coming out of her mouth. I knew I was an angry fuck who liked to fight, but I didn’t pick on people weaker than me. Looking at Hannah right now, I knew she wasn’t weak. She’d obviously been dealing with this for years; she was the definition of strength.

  Her problem was power. She didn’t have any.

  "There's more,” I stated. I knew there was. It wasn't a question.

  "Yes," she whispered. "It's getting so much worse this year. This week, he grabbed me in the hallway just after the bell had rung. He’d never actually gotten physical before. He’s blocked my way, gotten into my space, followed me closely, but has never actually touched me." She had a bewildered, faraway look on her face, as she remembered. As though she still couldn’t believe it had happened. I found myself gritting my teeth, my fists curling, eager to find Connors’ face.

  "He blocked my way, sort of caged his arms around me, telling me all this insane stuff about his feelings for me.” She frowned. “I don’t know what was wrong with me, why I didn’t push him away, punch him, something.” She shook her head, clearly still disappointed with herself.

  I knew what she didn’t understand. That she’d been in shock at the time, that her space had been violated and she’d been paralyzed by it.

  “The bell rang, and everyone went into class, so he pushed me against a wall and started kissing me. I couldn’t believe it.” She made intense eye contact with me when she said it, urging me to share her shock, her outrage. I didn’t need any prompting.

  “When he started groping at me, I finally pushed against him, and asked for help from a teacher who was closing her door. She looked at me, and then looked the other way. She did nothing." Tears were now shining in her eyes, making them luminous pools of violet as they reflected every bit of her disbelief at what happened, and her shock at being ignored by people who were supposed to protect her.

  I felt like I had shards of glass in my throat as I asked, my fists clenched with the need to punch something. Someone. "What did he do?"

  She looked up at the ceiling, apparently trying to get control of her emotions. She finally brought her gaze back to mine. "Nothing, thank god. I kneed him in the balls and ran as fast as I could."

  Good, the fucker deserved it.

  "Today is my first day back after it happened. I wracked my brains while I was hiding out at home about what I could do— how I could keep him away from me. You were the solution."

  Now it was my turn to sigh. “Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess." I understood how she got to her conclusion. Everyone was afraid of me. If it wasn't what they'd heard about my father, it was my own well-publicized anger management issues. She started to wring her hands, obviously interpreting my comment as potential lack of cooperation.

  "Look, I have about seven hundred dollars,” she blurted. “I could pay you for your time. All you have to do is pretend we're dating. Then Jeff will leave me alone, I can come to school without being afraid, graduate and head off to college where you'll never have to see me again." Hannah explained her plan in a rush of words, as though the speed of her speech reflected the simplicity of it.

  I jerked back. “Date you?” I figured she was going to ask me to kick his ass, which I would have been happy to do if I wasn’t already on thin ice with the principal due to all the fighting I had done in the past. One more fight, and I was out.

  “Well, yes…” she murmured, seeming less confident now that she shared her plan with me.

  “First of all, I don't want your fucking money.”

  She flinched a bit at that.

  “And what you're proposing is a little more involved than you're making it out to be,” I corrected sharply, and she had the grace to blush. “First problem, I don't date. Anyone. Even girls that are hot." I saw her wince at my blunt statement, but Jesus, she was a mess. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick here, but no one would buy that I would date you."

  Okay, I was being kind of a dick.

  "What if I changed a little. Maybe got nicer clothes, wore make up, spent some time doing my hair, that kind of thing? Maybe you can tell everyone that after you saw me, you fell in love?" Hannah’s eyebrows rose as she ended her sentence on this optimistic note that had me cringing.

  Fell in love? Fuck.

  "Look, Hannah, everyone in this school knows I'm a hard-headed asshole. I fuck the girls in this school because they want me to fuck them. Then I move on. A lot of girls have wanted me to date them, but I have absolutely no interest. I don't think you understand how out of character dating you would look. You would have to be an exceptional for anyone to buy it, and quite frankly—"

  "I get it, I get it! You don't have to keep repeating how unattractive I am." Hannah thrust her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling in outrage behind those crooked glasses. I knew I just got done telling her how unappealing I found her, but she actually looked kind of cute, all worked up like that. I felt my dick start to take notice.

  God, was I being reprogrammed? Was she brainwashing me?

  "It won't work, Hannah. No one will buy it." Given the current action happening below my belt, I wasn’t sure if I actually believed that, or if I was uncomfortable with just how much she was making me feel. Before this conversation, I would have run from anything that resembled a relationship, even a fake one.

  But with Hannah, it felt different. Staring at her hopeful, desperate face, I understood her desire to be with me wasn’t about boosting her status at school or dating a bad boy—a term I loathed—or showing up other girls. This was about giving her a chance to live a life without looking over her shoulder and fearing that fucking creep Connors wasn’t lurking around the next corner.

  After hearing me repeatedly refuse, Hannah looked at me and started to deflate like a balloon with a slow leak. "I don't know anyone else who would make Jeff too scared to try anything." She glanced out the little window on the door, as if expecting Connors to pop up at any minute. Real panic starting to overtake her features, her lips tightening into a hard line.

  Talk about a gut punch. What could I do? I definitely didn’t want a nerdy fake girlfr
iend to deal with, but I also couldn't leave her to be attacked by that stalker asshole.

  Fuck.

  I blew out a huge breath as I leaned against the desk again. I felt like I'd aged ten years in the last thirty minutes. What a nightmare. "Okay, Hannah. We'll do this," I said in a resigned tone of voice. Her squeal nearly deafened me.

  "But there are going to be rules,” I insisted. Hannah wasn’t listening, she was twirling in a circle, raising her arms in the air like she’d just won a race or a prize or something, jogging her legs up and down. God, she was such a dork, but I could understand her relief. After she was done with her victory dance, she collapsed against the desk next to mine.

  "Sure, fine, whatever. I don't care what your rules are."

  I believed her. She was sporting a huge grin that transformed her face. Again, I could see her potential attractiveness and it made me uneasy. She also looked so relieved, that I felt a twinge of . . . something. I also experienced an unsettling surge of power at the idea of shielding someone, protecting them. Protecting her.

  Jesus, what the fuck was she doing to me?

  I wasn’t not a nice person, at all. I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

  Chapter 3

  Hannah

  I couldn’t believe I was so afraid of Nikolai before this. He was actually kind of nice, once you got past the scowling and the yelling. Finally, this miserable, years-long nightmare would be over.

  Nikolai’s expression could only be described as resigned, like how you look when you’ve been told you had to get your wisdom teeth removed. You know you had to do it, but it was going to suck. I wished I cared, but I didn’t. I was too relieved to care.

  Nikolai’s gaze scanned me up and down like he was looking for something he could work with. "We have to handle this,” he said gesturing his hand toward me, indicating my appearance.

  I gave him a disgruntled look. God, did he have to keep bringing that up?

  “Don't give me that look—I'm not being an asshole. I wasn't fucking around when I told you no one would buy that I was into you. You have to look a little more convincing.”

  I sighed and could kind of see his point. I’ve seen the girls he normally hangs out with. Let’s just say, the fact that we were all biologically female might be our only shared trait. I figured a makeover was a small price to pay for his help. "Okay, I'll go to the mall after school and get some new clothes."

  God, the thought of going to the mall and slogging through all of those stores in order to look good enough for Nikolai Ivanov was starting to make me sweat. I bit my nail in panic at the idea of being fashionable considering I’d been dressing for three years to try to turn men off. Well, one man. The rest had just followed suit.

  "You don't look too confident about your shopping skills," Nikolai deadpanned, no doubt after watching my increasing demonstrations of anxiety. He surveyed my outfit again. "I'm not confident about them either. We’re going to meet at the mall, and I'm going to pick out your shit. Actually"—he pulled out his phone and started texting someone— “I’m going to have someone there to help us.”

  “Wait, you can’t tell—”

  Not even looking up from his phone, he dismissed my concerns. "Don't worry, Katya doesn't go to school here. She's an old friend, and she loves playing dress up." He smirked and mumbled something under his breath that I didn't catch.

  Was he reminiscing? Was this Katya his former girlfriend? I felt an uncomfortable flash of embarrassment at the thought of his undoubtedly hot, former girlfriend picking out clothes for me like I was some clueless dope.

  "Was she your girlfriend?" I inquired, unable to control myself.

  Nikolai’s eyebrows jumped up as he shot me a look, and then shook his head, smirking again. "No, I don't have any ex-girlfriends, remember? Jesus, you jealous already?” he asked in exasperation.

  That brought me up short. Was I? No. Maybe?

  "Okay, fine," I rushed out, ignoring his last question and eager to get us off the topic of this mystery woman. "So, we'll meet at the mall after school. I have to find out which bus I need to take, then I can tell you what time I'll be there."

  Nikolai looked exasperated. “The bus? Jesus, you don't have a car?”

  I started to tumble out a bunch of explanations, fearing he would reconsider the arrangement.

  He held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t do it today. There’s a party this Friday at Mark Cassidy’s on Friday night. We’ll get you clothes after school on Friday and go to the party together. That way the most amount of people will see us, probably even Connors himself, and get this whole thing over with.”

  “Today is Tuesday - what about the rest of the week? What do I do about Jeff?”

  Nikolai nodded his head. “I’ve got something in mind to take care of him today, then I’ll figure out how to deal with him, so you won’t have to worry for the rest of the week.”

  Nikolai nodded, indicating he understood my concern. "I'll have someone take care of that asshole. I’m just sorry I can’t do it myself, but if I get suspended one more time, I probably won’t graduate. He won't bother you today, and by the time Monday rolls around, he will be too afraid to even look in your direction."

  It felt uncomfortable trusting that Nikolai was going take care of Jeff. I wanted details and explanations in order to feel safe, however, I had dragged Nikolai into my problems, so he could help me, and he said he would, so I had to simply trust that he would come through.

  Nikolai appeared to notice my hesitation. "I'll make sure of it." The same scary intensity that had been directed at me at the beginning of this conversation was now focused on Jeff. It made me feel better.

  I took a deep breath, trying to release the anxiety that was burning my stomach like battery acid. “Okay.”

  “Give me your phone." I handed him my phone, which he grabbed and inspected judgmentally. It was an older model, but it worked just fine, so why get a new one? He quickly dialed his number into my phone, then used it to call his own phone so he'd have my number.

  "Friday, after we get you a makeover, we're going to a party to show off your new look and start acting like we're dating. The sooner Jeff gets the hint, the sooner we can end this thing. Got it?" Nikolai recapped and pinned me with his glacial stare, making it as clear as possible that our situation is fake and for me not to get attached.

  "Okay, but what do I do for the rest of the week? Are we going to interact in public before Friday?"

  “No.”

  With that, he walked out of the classroom.

  Chapter 4

  Nikolai

  I walked down the hallway, not particularly concerned about missing first period. I was still irritated with myself for getting tangled up in this mess, but I'd agreed, so I wanted to deal with Connors as soon as possible.

  I needed to talk to Jack to see who had a class with Connors, so we could take care of him for the day. The fact that Hannah tracked me down and proposed this insane plan told me everything I needed to know about her fear of that motherfucker. I wasn’t used to being aware of the emotions of other people and hated how invested I was in this. I had to talk to Jack, then get it off my mind for a while. I would have loved to take care of Connors myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t broken a couple of noses, not to mention kneecaps, for my dad when I was more closely affiliated with the organization. Small time enforcer shit.

  However, I needed to make whatever we did to Connors look like an accident, and if I got within ten feet of that asshole, all the damage would definitely be intentional. Jack had warned me that he thought my father brought out the worst in me, and he was fucking right. My stint with the Bratva hadn’t exactly taught me anger management.

  Originally, I’d wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and become Pakhan, like him. I knew the organization was dirty. I mean, fuck, it was called organized crime for a reason. I’d been raised in it, knew how it worked, and usually had no problem with the moral dilemma that it would pr
esent for most people. Guns, drugs, I was taught to act like they were commodities, profits. I thought I knew about the business, but last summer I realized I didn’t know anything at all. I knew my old man was ruthless, but I had learned how sick and disturbed he’d become. He was dealing in shit I had no idea about. When I saw firsthand what he was into, I got the fuck out.

  My father was not happy about this; I had been very close to becoming a vor, a made man, in the Russian mob. I told him I wanted to go to college instead, get an education to be useful to the outfit. I wasn’t stupid; I knew my father would not just let me out. I had to pretend like it was still my future, while I did everything I could to disengage from it. Usually, the way to get fully initiated is to kill someone. That had never seemed like a big deal in the past. I had seen men killed more times than I could count. I have a suspicion it may have fucked me up a bit.

  This was why I was so furious that Hannah would even mention the Bratva to me. To say it was a trigger was an understatement. Of course, it didn’t take me long to realize that she wasn’t being calculating, she wasn’t flirting. She was fucking clueless. Sure, her situation was shitty, but her instincts for dealing with it were fucking terrible. Call the mob to deal with some kid in high school? Jesus Christ.

  Of course, those same shitty instincts got her exactly what she wanted. Protection. Although, I had to admit, last year I probably would have walked away from her and let her deal with this shit on her own. I was an even bigger dick then. Before I found out what my father's organization was all about. Before I realized what I was becoming, what they were turning me into. What my father was turning me into.

  I walked up to Becker’s locker, a smirk forming as I watched him shove his tongue down Shelby Miller’s throat. When his hand snaked down to grab her ass, I punched him in the arm to get his attention. Jack pulled away from her and spun around, his fist clenched, before relaxing when he saw it was me.