The Runaway: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bratva Dark Allegiance Book 2)

by Raven Scott

  Against my back, Jacob tensed, and the murmurs of his family went deathly quiet as his mom replaced the plate in my hands. My turkey and green beans disappeared onto the overflowing countertops, and it took a second to realize she’d thrown it in the sink. Admittedly, I hadn’t gotten too much; I didn’t know if I would like it, but I was going to try it.

  Every eye was trained on me as I held this dinky paper plate with just a peanut butter sandwich on it. Jacob’s mom beamed at me like she hadn’t just thrown away my food. As if she thought giving me this was so great, she smiled, but her eyes glimmered with something darker. Blinking hard, I stood stupid as my brain tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  Did she blame me for Jacob kicking Caleb out? I just happened to be there; it wasn’t like Jacob hadn’t thought about it a lot before making a decision. Was this his mom’s way of telling me that I wasn’t welcome because of a dispute that had nothing to do with me? She went around telling all these lies, when I had never said a single word to her.

  “O— oh…” My voice cracked harshly, snapping through the dense atmosphere like a whip, and my chest tightened. Everything got blurry and hot, and my throat closed as Jacob’s mom stared at me with this stupid expression on her face. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe through my nose, and blood drummed furiously in my ears. “Okay.”

  “Joci—” Even Carlyle Santino looked mortified when I glanced around, ignoring Jacob’s croak. In the silence, one of the kids sneezed, and the sound rolled up my spine to bang against the sensitive part of my brain. I held the plate on one hand, whirling around to smash the sandwich in Jacob’s mom’s face as hard as I could.

  She screamed, shattering the quiet stillness as she stumbled back, peanut butter smearing on her chin and clumping her eyelashes. Clenching and releasing my jaw, I wiped bitter tears from my cheeks while Jacob jumped into action. His arms wrapped around me, half holding my back, half comforting me, but— what could I do? I couldn’t punch her. I couldn’t rear back my arm that far.

  What was her name? Oh— yes. Lisa. Gaping at me like a fish out of water, Lisa was shocked— shocked!— by the piece of bread hanging from her chin. Crumbs clung to her curly hair, and peanut butter smeared down her sternum and shirt.

  “Fuck you! You dirty fucking yanki pizda! Let me go!” Struggling against Jacob’s grip, I ground my teeth when he didn’t release me so I could punch his mom in the face— my arm be damned. Trembling with anger, I breathed fire and teared rivers of oil that ignited on my skin. Somehow, Jacob only had a grip on my shirt, and I tore myself from him with a grunt.

  The crunch of broke breaking wasn’t from Lisa’s face, and goosebumps blanketed my body when I blinked. A tiny dribble of blood seeped from her nose, but the rattling, pin needle pain that shot up my arm was almost unbearable. Watching her crumple, holding her face, I panted harshly as I spit on her wailing, shivering self.

  “You think I’m stupid! I’m not stupid! I’m tired of being acted like I’m stupid!” I flung out my arms as my own shouting reverberated through me— like I was hearing it, feeling it, not saying it. The pounding in my ears was too loud, and my heart tried to squeeze through my ribs. “I come here for making you feel good about me, and you’re mad! For what! For Jacob and Caleb, not for me! I didn’t do anything! Maybe, you are the one that can be kicked out! It’s not me that fucked up!”

  “Hey—” Jerking out of the hands that tried to grab me, I whipped around to watch through watery, achy eyes as Jacob held up his palms in surrender. “It’s just me.”

  “Why! Why does everyone hate me? I’m trying! I’m trying! Anatoly was right! I have no one! I’m disgusting— I wish Aleksander let him kill me!” Somewhere in the fog of my mind, I realized… Carlyle would have a gun on him. He’d be stupid not to have a gun on him everywhere he went. He dropped his plate, the ceramic shattering with a horrible clatter when I rushed over. Everything moved in a blur, but he must’ve known what I was going for.

  “No!” Wrapping my hands around the cold metal, I wheezed short, furious breaths before Jacob grabbed me. This time, he wasn’t so gentle, and I sputtered as he stumbled back onto the bottom of the stairs. Long, lean legs wrapped around mine, his arm across my sternum and his palm against my forehead. “No— no— no. I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you.”

  “Mom— what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” The deep voice— but not Jacob’s— floated just over the scope of my comprehension. Even sobs couldn’t break free beyond the tightness in my chest, and it took all I had just to breathe short, shallow wheezes. “Sandra, pack up the kids. We’re leaving.”

  “Sh-h… you’re not gonna die. I won’t let you. I just got you.” Whispering desperately in my ear, Jacob kissed my temple as tremors rattled my whole body. My heart hurt— not the physical kind of ache that engulfed my hand, but the pain that my brain created. It beat so hard, so fast, and my lungs screamed for fresh air.

  “Yeah… we’re gonna go, too.” Why didn’t anyone ever give me a chance? Because my English wasn’t that great? Because I was foreign? Did people just glance at me and decide I was bad?

  “I’m taking you to the hospital, Joci. Your hand doesn’t look good at all.”

  “I’ll bring you.” Carlyle sounded noticeably troubled by what he’d witnessed, and Jacob tensed against my back even as different hands grabbed me to pull me up. “It pays to be me. There won’t be a record of her.”

  “Why would you do that for her?” The world spun through my bleary vision, and I managed to breathe a little better once I was standing. “I don’t want to owe you shit, Carlyle. The whole point of this is for her to get out, she said.”

  “Are you in a position to not accept my help, Jacob?” Turning my watery eyes to Carlyle, the only clear thing I could see was the disturbance swirling in his iron gaze. “I’m not Aleksander Makovich. I do not do humanitarian deeds expecting to be paid back, nor do I allow suffering to continue right in front of me. You won’t owe me anything.”

  Carlyle stuck out his hand like he was making a business deal, and Jacob hesitated only a second before taking it. Everything happened around me once removed, the people around us gathering their stuff in complete silence. Even the children were silent. Sniffling hard as Jacob fixed a few buttons that’d come undone on my shirt, I gulped down snot and spit once the shock started to wear off.

  “You really hate Aleksander, don’t you?” Maybe, they didn’t think I was listening— or that talking about something other than the fact that Lisa had thrown out my food and given me a sandwich instead would distract me. Leaning against Jacob’s chest, I closed my eyes and focused on breathing while my heart slowed. The fierce ache in my chest began to die down… but with that loss, the pain started to build.

  But that was okay. I liked this pain that slithered up my arm. I knew punching Lisa would probably break my frail bones, dislodge the pins holding my hand together, but it was worth it. She fucking deserves it.

  “I think his business practices are disgusting and underhanded, and I’m not fond of him as a person, either. Considering he came to me, you’d think he would be open to negotiating, but all he does is demand. I’m not expecting to make a deal with him unless his negotiator can get him to bend. That being said…” Heavy eyes bored holes into my face, and I blinked sluggishly as I looked over. Carlyle stared at me like I was prey he was no longer interested in eating. “I am more than open to accommodating Joci’s stay in the States.”

  “If negotiations fall through, she has to go back.” Cold air shocked my face, and I gasped with a shudder as it curled up my nose and cleared my head some. When did we walk? What’s going on? We were out of the house and going down the stairs, my shaky exhale clouding in front of my face.

  “He can try. Makovich might be important in Russia, but he doesn’t matter outside their borders. I have a very good idea of what he’s trying to do, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make him fail… and I have a lot of power to play with.”

>   33

  Joci

  Staring at the pale purple bandage holding my left hand together, I still had a hard time wrapping my head around the past few hours. I thought everything was okay— I managed to avoid making a fool of myself in front of Jacob’s family. Carlyle showed up, and I was willing to put aside what happened at the pizza place for peace’s sake. I maintained a conversation with his brother, who seemed to like me well enough for someone he’d just met.

  Everything was going too well, though. I should’ve expected things to go south; now that I thought about it, Jacob’s mom was avoiding me the whole time I was there. She talked to other people in her brief leaves from the kitchen but stayed far away from me. Even Jacob had a terse, short conversation with her, but she didn’t so much as glance at me.

  “She gave me a sandwich.” My rasp earned me a chuff of a scoff, and I glanced up through throbbing eyes at Jacob. “She did it to be mean. Like it was payback, maybe. For Caleb.”

  “I don’t know why the fuck she thought that was a good idea, but I guarantee you, Joci— I’m not the only one that’s pissed.” Now, I felt so clear and empty. I was horrified that I’d reacted by punching her in the face, but I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. Lisa’s whole family had left, if Jacob’s phone trilling non-stop with texts about how upset they were was any indication. Supposedly, even his dad went for a ‘long walk’, and Emily had gone with him. “I’m cutting her the Hell out of my life. This isn’t even about you, either— it’s about how bored she is. It’s been getting worse over the years, like Em said, but this… this went way too far.”

  “Excuse me—” The doctor entered the room with a long, wide file in his arm and cleared his throat faintly. “Do you have a moment to talk about your x-rays? Mr. Santino provided me with an interpreter for you.”

  “Yes.” I held up my bandaged arm, and he nodded his bald, shiny head that reflected the white lights streaming from the ceiling. The woman from the tarmac when we’d landed in America slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She was pretty, still, and she smiled brightly at me as she shuffled to sit in the chair opposite Jacob. “Are you interested?”

  “Of course, I am. It’s not every day you see someone with so much metal inside them, but I’d just like to talk about your hand for right now.” The woman repeated what the doctor said, and I ducked my head in a nod before he continued. “You did fracture your hand, broke two knuckles and a finger, but none of the pins are misplaced, so we won’t have to surgically fix them. I’m sure you considered having them removed, but if they’re not causing you any pain, there’s really no need to do so. That being said, it’s highly likely that you’re going to lose some function of your hand.”

  “… Oh… that’s okay. I’m right-handed. I’m used to not being able to do things.” After spending the last week speaking only English, I found it a little difficult to speak Russian even with an interpreter. Licking my lips heavily, I reached my right hand to my shoulders to nod. “I can’t lift my arms to my shoulders, or lift things, or stuff like that. It’s not a big deal that I can’t curl my fingers as tightly as I did before. When my ex tortured me, he basically made it impossible, anyway.”

  “Alright. I also looked at the plate in your forearm and the pin in your elbow, and they seem totally unaffected by the impact. If you’d punched your mother-in-law any harder, you would probably be in worse shape. So, I am going to prescribe you some pain killers, and you’ll come back to me in about four weeks to get the cast removed and replaced with a brace. Carlyle Santino has already paid for it— you just need to show up.” Nodding in understanding, my lip twitched when Jacob grumbled to himself when Carlyle Santino was mentioned. I, for some reason, had faith that their bargain was true— Carlyle took contracts very seriously, whether they were written or verbal.

  “What about Makovich? Does he know I’m here?” Turning to the woman, I heaved a sigh of relief when she shook her head. “Good— Good.”

  “I’ve been told to tell you that whatever Aleksander Makovich is paying to get rid of you, Carlyle will triple it.” My brows rose at that, and she pulled her shirt up to reveal a congealed mass of flesh. Horror closed my throat as I covered my open mouth, but she only smiled sympathetically. “He has a soft spot for broken things held together with tape. His philosophy is that fear is not more powerful than respect.”

  “Why… why is he helping me? I don’t want to work for him. I’m tired of rich men that own the world.”

  “You’re tired of rich dicks, and Makovich may rule Russia, but even that country is a small pond compared to all the world. Aleksander inspires fear. Carlyle inspires respect. You respect him, he’ll respect you. Also, he doesn’t want you to work for him. You’ve been through a lot, Joci, and you shouldn’t have to go through anymore. Whatever Makovich offered you is not enough. It may seem like a lot, but it’s not.” I couldn’t really argue with that; I didn’t have much experience with the American dollar, after all. “He looks at us and sees his dead sister. So, I’d think that he’s not helping you, but trying to fix his past mistake at not helping her.”

  “What do I have to do?” The question earned me a small smile, and she shook her head. In this moment, I couldn’t remember her name, which made me feel a little shitty.

  “It’s already done. You should get the deposit in a few days. He’s not very patient, either. As for Aleksander… Carlyle is about fed up with his shit and probably going to kick him out of America early. In their meetings, Aleksander seems to think he has something Carlyle wants, but… he doesn’t.” That was surprising, and a harsh bark of confused laughter burst from my throat. The woman shrugged a little, standing up from her seat as my brain struggled to catch up to what she’d said. “I’m on my way to a meeting with Ophelia, now, to discuss what to do. The only thing Carlyle stands to make is more money, but even then, he’s not interested in working too hard for it.”

  “… Aleksander wants to run for Prime Minister of Russia. And I know for a fact that he’s planning to send Darren Willians to sign some things tomorrow. His girlfriend is my English teacher. She said he’s about done with Aleksander, too. That Darren is tired of Aleksander thinking he’s all-powerful and can treat him like a dog.” Clearly, she hadn’t known that, and I wished frustratedly that I’d remembered her name as I licked my lips heavily. “Darren said he only worked for Makovich because he was born Russian. This happened right before we left, so I’m sure if you push the right buttons…”

  “Do you know of anyone else that has a grudge against Aleksander?”

  “Everyone?” I spread my fingers uselessly, and she nodded firmly before pulling out her phone and leaving the room. The door closed, and I sucked in a sharp breath before smacking my palm against my forehead. “Illya! That’s her name! Ugh…”

  “Are you sure it was a good idea to tell her that? What if Aleksander finds out? He’ll kill you, Joci.” I jumped— I’d forgotten Jacob was in the room— and my gaze flew to him to widen. His serious face held eyes that locked onto mine, and guilt sloshed up my throat.

  “You get your information from Joci, right?” The doctor spoke up, having been quiet this whole time, and Jacob tore his eyes off mine to nod. “Someone like him seems all-powerful to his underlings, and she had every right to be terrified of him. But Carlyle Santino is not someone Aleksander Makovich wants to piss off. A lot has changed in the past few years. Carlyle’s organization is much more stable and wide-reaching than ever. Not to mention… Carlyle inspires. His business associates won’t abandon him because they don’t like him. I’m sure that Aleksander doesn’t have that safety, even inside Russia.”

  “How’d you understand me?” Turning my questioning gaze to Jacob, I almost felt stupid for asking— he always understood me. Even when I didn’t say anything, he seemed to know. He smirked a little grimly, clasping his hands between his knees as he sighed.

  “Prime Minister is pretty much the same in most languages. It doesn’t take a
genius to figure out that whatever you said was information Aleksander probably didn’t want Carlyle to know.” My lips parted in a surprised ‘o’, and Jacob pushed himself to his feet to roll his shoulders with a grunt. “Let’s get you home, yeah? I’ve had enough drama for a while.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I paused before standing to frown at Jacob. “I don’t want to kill myself. I don’t know why I did that.”

  He smiled that warm, beautiful smile— that one I couldn’t get enough of— and held out his hands for me. Even if I had no one else in the world, I had Jacob. He put up with so much, so fast, so wonderfully… and for what?

  Potential. In Russia, I had no potential. I couldn’t be or do anything of my own volition. I was forced to do whatever Aleksander wanted because he’d saved me.

  Gingerly taking his hands, I smiled back, and Jacob’s widened as his eyes glistened so brightly with all the emotions he knew he would feel. Eventually.

  America was the land of potential, and not just monetarily. Everything in life would get better and easier, and all of it would happen with Jacob and I, side by side, together.

  34

  Jacob

  “What are you doing here?” Caleb jumped off the sofa and yelped in surprise, and I couldn’t believe all the shit that had happened today. Joci unglued herself from my side to shuffle heavily to the bedroom, rolling her shoulders very gingerly out of the corner of my eye. Tightening my grip on the huge folder of her medical images, I glared at my cousin as he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

  “I— I’ve been here since Roerich called to cuss me out about what Mom did. I’m really sorry…” Caleb trailed off at my withering glare, and I clenched my jaw hard. He shuffled awkwardly, his face drawing in discomfort— but, despite apologizing, he didn’t look guilty at all. I honestly didn’t know what was worse, at this point.