Reckless: A Bad Boyz Anthology

by Anthology

  “You know. I have thought of little else since meeting you.”

  Staring at him, I can see the truth of his words and I’m not sure what I should say. It trips me out because I am far from a shy girl, always one to tell it how it is. Well, usually at least.

  “Um… water,” I say, grabbing the cool glass in front of me with my free hand, ignoring the small circles his fingers are drawn on my now heated hands.

  He smiles at me and leans back just as the waiter returns with our food. The smell wafts over us, dissipating his enticing cologne and I am more than thankful for it.

  God, he makes me so nervous.

  We eat in silence, though I can feel the weight of Lucan’s eyes on me. The energy between us crackles with sexual energy and I find myself actively reminding myself to breath.

  He knows the effect that he has on me as he glances over at me with a knowing look on his face and I hate that he has me so sexually disturbed, but I also can deny that I am enjoying this to some degree. I miss this part of dating. The nervousness you feel when you’re trying to impress someone. The butterflies that take flight in your stomach each time they looked at you. The undeniable chemistry you feel when you… God, I need to get laid.

  No, no, no. I will not have sex with him. This is just a one-time thing.

  I fidget in my seat, my thoughts running a mile a minute. I feel so self-conscious sitting across such a good-looking man.

  What could he possibly see in me?

  “Stop,” he says suddenly, and his outburst causes me to halt my folk midway, my body ridged. “Don’t fidget. You’re thinking too much.”

  I’m not sure how to respond, but I immediately sit up straighter in my seat at his command. His phone vibrates across the table, the screen lighting up. He picks it up and furrows his brow at the screen and I can tell that whomever it is, he doesn’t want to speak to them. “Excuse me. I have to take this,” he says as he stands. I nod, hoping that I can clear my head a bit while he’s taking his call.

  I can’t remember the last time a man has affected me like this. Jason certainly never made me feel so flustered. It makes keeping this date a one time thing so damn difficult. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to let things with Lucan progress further. Would be accept my medical issues? Would we fall in love? Is that what I want?

  I’m not sure of any of it, but I know one thing…I can’t afford to put myself in a position to be hurt again. It isn’t worth the risk. Not even for a drop dead gorgeous man like Lucan.

  No, this can’t continue pass tonight.

  God, give me strength.

  Lucan

  “Where are you?” Petrov asks.

  “Getting ready for the delivery tonight, Pakhan,” I answer, making sure to keep my voice equally controlled.

  There was no way in hell I was going to tell him about Thamar. I would be damned to involve her in my life. The life I lead straddling a deathly fence. Half good guy, half bad. It amazes me how accurate Thamar had been in her assessment.

  The way she laughed off the thought of my potentially being in the mafia, as if it were the silliest thing in the world, sobered me up quickly in regard to my ability to live a normal life, even for one night. Any delusions I had that I could have a life outside of the Bratva is now nonexistent.

  I cannot risk Petrov finding out I am on a date. With the way he is behaving lately, any deviation of my normal routine is not wise.

  “You are to meet Vladimir in an hour. He is to assist you this evening.” He does not wait for my response, knowing that I will be an obedient follower.

  Fuck.

  Something is not right. I know it. My stomach twists uncomfortably as if in premonition of what the rest of the night will bring. There is not much I can do other than end this date. I hope that Thamar understands when she does not hear from me again. I need to focus my energy on keeping Petrov in the dark and happy.

  It sounds simple enough, but I am no fool. Petrov is up to something. I just need to figure out what.

  Making my way back inside of the restaurant, I stop a few feet away from the table, drinking in the sight of Thamar. The night had not started out perfect, but we managed to have a decent time. There is so much I want to know about her.

  Her assessment of me had been spot on, almost better than half the men I had worked with at the FBI. Something tells me there is a deep story there, but unfortunately, I cannot explore this with her. I should not have asked her one the date to begin with.

  Straightening, I make my way back to our table. Giving her an apologetic smile as I take my seat. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve actually been called into work.”

  A flash of disappointment comes over her face for only a second before she smiles and nods her head. “No, worries. Duty awaits. Officer? Detective? Um… Sargent?” she asks, still trying to guess what it is I do.

  I smile at her, shaking my head. “I’ll let you figure it out. You know…since you’re so good at guessing these things,” I jest, and my heart warms when she laughs at my playfulness, her disappointment completely forgotten.

  If only I did not have to stay away from her. The thought brings on a gloomy feeling over me, but I do my best to disguise it. It is for the best. This is the reason I never dated. The brotherhood has no place for an innocent woman like Thamar. I could see she has a toughness about her; however, she will only be in danger the longer I keep this going.

  Paying for the check, we are in my car ten minutes later and we fall into a comfortable silence. My mind wanders to Petrov and meeting Vladimir at his home before the delivery. The feeling that I am on the edge of discovery is strong and I know that come tomorrow I will have to make a trip to downtown to send a warning to the Bureau despite my reservations about betraying the brotherhood. It is the only logical choice.

  ***

  Thamar is quiet as we pull up in front of her home. I quickly round the car to open the door for her and walk her to her door. She fidgets with her keys as she stands across from me, awkwardly swaying from left to right.

  I smile at her and pull her closer to me. The feel of her against me does something foreign to me and I do not want to have to let her go.

  “I had a wonderful time, Lucan,” she whispers and I can hear the hesitation in her voice.

  “Likewise, Thamar.” Placing my hand on her cheek, I graze the soft skin with my thumb, noticing the quick intake of her breath as she looks up at me expectantly. Her eyes are barely open when I dip down and kiss her tenderly, feeling the jolt of electricity flow between us.

  In another time, another place. I would take her into her home and claim her. I would sink myself deep inside of her, feel her warmth clenching my already hard cock as I pumped into her. The thought alone makes me harder. My hand slips into her hair and I deepen the kiss, swiping my tongue against her bottom lip.

  She opens up for me with a moan, falling into our embrace, lost in the connection we both seem to share.

  My hands move on their own accord, pulling her tighter into me and I am loss. We are loss, in the moment. So much so that it takes us both a while to register that someone has cleared their throat.

  Thamar hears it first, quickly breaking our connection and I feel the loss of it. My heart is thundering against my chest. My balls are heavy with the need for this beautiful woman and I try to think of anything else but the urge I feel to lose myself inside of her.

  “Oh my God, Gio? What the hell are you doing here?”

  I whip my head towards a man who standing in the doorway, his hands crossed over his chest with a disapproving look on his face. Who the fuck is this?

  “I told you I was coming over,” he says simply, offering no other explanation. The ping of jealousy I feel at the moment takes me by surprise and my hold on Thamar tightens in response.

  She does not respond to me, only stares at the man at her doorway. A man who had been inside awaiting her arrival.

  “Gio, I told you that tonight was not a good time,
” Thamar answers him, her voice shaky. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment, her eyes wild as they travel between this man, Gio and me.

  “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  Thamar sighs and I can tell that she does not want to. Wanting to put her at ease, I extend my hand to the man. “Lucan, nice to meet you, Gio.”

  He does not take my hand immediately as he sizes me up. His jaw clenches when he finally does take it and he grips my hand firmly in an effort to intimidate me. Little does he know that I can and will take him if need be. I am not one to be intimidated.

  I squeeze his hand back, wanting to show him that he is well out of his league.

  He winces.

  When we let go, Thamar turns to me, giving me an apologetic look. I want to know who this man is to her and why he is at her house, but I do not ask. “I guess I’d better go. I had a wonderful time, Lucan. I…well…I guess I’ll see you soon?”

  The words are out of my mouth before I can think about it. “Absolutely, my sweet Thamar. Tomorrow night, in fact. Say 8 o’clock?” I smile at her, even as I feel Gio’s death stare from the doorway. Whoever this fucker is, he has a thing for Thamar. I can clearly see it. What I cannot gauge is how Thamar feels about him and that does not sit well with me.

  Thamar

  The second Lucan’s car is gone; I turn to face Gio. Mortified would not even begin to describe what I am feeling right now. I had no idea how long Gio had been standing on the other side of my front door, but he’d obviously seen enough to rudely interrupt the most mind blowing kiss I had ever experienced in my life.

  He stands in front of the door, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glared at me. I know it hurt him to see me with someone else, and for that I was sorry. I never wanted for him to get hurt. But, I have always been upfront and honest with him so the pain he was experiencing was his own doing. He should have moved on long ago. I’m not going to say that to him though. I’m not complete bitch and he is still my friend.

  “What the fuck, Gio?” I push him aside and open the door, feeling my cheeks heat up further in embarrassment.

  He follows me in, closing it behind him before we made our way to my apartment at the back end of the first floor.

  “I told you I was coming over to check this guy out. He could be a rapist for all we know.”

  I ignore him, opening the door to my apartment. Stepping in behind me, he stops in the foyer and I can feel the weight of his stare as I make my way to the kitchen.

  Opening the fridge, I pull out a water, uncap it and gulp down most of the refreshing liquid. Placing the bottle down on the counter, I turn to face my friend. This is a conversation that I am not looking forward to having. Nevertheless, I know that it has to happen.

  He’s still visually upset and I can somewhat understand how he is feeling. No one wants to witness his or her unrequited love in the thralls of passion. Who knows what would have happened had Gio not interrupted.

  I want to believe that I wouldn’t have slept with Lucan, but the way my body sang under his tongues masterful caress was earth shattering. I shudder to think what making love to him would be like.

  “I am sorry you had to see that, Gio,” I start, watching as his shoulder slump down further. I slowly make my way over to him, pulling him into a hug. Hurting him is the last thing I want, but I guess there was no way to avoid it.

  “So you like him, huh?” he whispers into my hair and I don’t want to answer him, knowing that doing so will only cause him more pain. I nod my head and pull him tighter.

  When we finally pull apart, Gio seems to have visually steeled himself. His mouth curls up in a half smile as he looks down at me. “I will always love you, Thamar. And if we can be nothing more than friends, then I’ll take it.”

  Lucan

  The drive to Petrov’s Brighten Beach home does little to calm me. My thoughts seem to fill with all things Thamar. However, as I pull into the long driveway, I push all thoughts of her away.

  Jumping out the car, I take a moment to ground myself, as I know that the man they're expecting to enter the home is not the man I feel that I am at this moment. For the last few hours, I pretended to be a normal man. It summoned a part of me that has not existed since before joining the Bureau, and most definitely before signing my life over to the Bratva.

  Releasing a long breath, I remind myself that this is my reality and Thamar is a distraction that I cannot afford. However pleasant, my time with her was, I know that in the end I will only cause her pain. That is all offered in the brotherhood to those who stood outside of servitude to Petrov.

  Making my way towards the townhouse, the knot that seems to have permanently taken up residence at the pit of my stomach churns violently.

  The door opens the second I arrive in front of the wooden structure and Vladimir greets me.

  “Privét, Comrade Lucan.” He steps aside to let me in and I notice that his demeanor is that of a carefree man. It eases my mind, knowing that Vladimir, while excellent in his position within the Bratva, is not a man who is capable of tempering his emotions. “Petrov request that I accompany you tonight. It has been quite some time since we’ve worked side by side, yeah?” he says, as he gestures to the formal living room.

  Upon entering, our men all stand, glasses of vodka in hand, showing respect to both Vladimir and myself. I greet them with a slight nod and position myself on one of the few empty seats available across from where Vladimir has seated. “So, what is the cause for such a meeting? It has not been that long ago that I managed all shipments personally. My elevated position has not caused me to forget your training.”

  To that Vladimir grins and its then I know that the night will run long.

  “Ah, but this night is quite different, Moy Brat, my brother. Tonight you will ascend into the core of the Bratva and for that my presence is obligatory.

  ***

  We arrive at the shipment location in Red Hook, Brooklyn with time to spare. Alexander’s men—soon to be my men—flank on either side of Vladimir and myself as we make our way through the empty lot.

  Vladimir’s revelation, the reason he is to assist me in this transport tonight, runs through my head as we near a line of shipping containers. After five years of blood, sweat and secrets, Petrov, the man I served as if he was my own father, has granted me open access to underground dealings of his business. The main business of this particular Bratva.

  I always knew that drug trafficking was not Petrov’s highest source of income, the FBI knew this much. We just needed to uncover what it was that kept the Bratva a float.

  And here it is. Sitting to right side of the lot, painted brightly yellow. Its doors closed tightly so that the contents are not discovered. I do not need to open its doors to know that what lay inside and what I am expected to do with its contents will forever change the course of my life.

  How does one remain blind when the greatest of evil is committed affront him? It is true that I had murdered under the authority of the Bratva. I had slaughtered many of men with just the slightest nod of Petrov’s head.

  However, this? This is not the same in my eyes, even under the disguise of being undercover.

  This has me torn even as we advance toward the container. It is this that has my heart thundering against my chest as we stop in front of it, knowing that tonight, my true mission begins. Moreover, with it, a piece of my soul dies.

  Dimitri, one of the soldiers, knocks on the door of the container, one, twice and then a third final time. He works the four tight locks on the door and steps back, pulling out his gun.

  The door swings open, first one side and then the next and a young man spills out. He looks to be in his early twenties, Russian, as expected and thinly built. His hands come up in front of him. He does not move toward us, but only stands staring at the lot of us. Alexander’s men—my men—in front, their gun drawn, with Vladimir and myself at the back.

  Remembering the protocol Vladimir has given me, I call out
for the count.

  “Sixteen, total,” he yells and I feel my jaw tick at the words.

  “Get the trucks,” I order my men, and quickly they disengage and set out for transport.

  The man moves aside and call into the container, “Pereyekhat'.” Move.

  Slowly the young girls come tumbling out of the container. Their eyes are wide; the fear they have experienced during their journey here evident on their faces. Thin, sunken bodies are escorted by my brothers to the awaiting trucks quickly. The children do not stir, even while they urged at to move faster.

  Once each one is contained, Vladimir turns to me, a smile on his face. “Pozdravlyayu, Comrade.” Congrats.

  SIX

  Lucan

  THE TRANSPORT OF the shipment takes most of the night and it is after eight in the morning before I make it home. The pleas of the girls as we delivered them to their new homes still rings in my head even hours after.

  They will be put to work within a few days, some working in the clubs and some…I could not begin to describe the job they will be made to do. The heaviness in my heart is draining, but I know that this development is what I have been waiting for. Somehow, I have to push the scene of the dirty, rat infested, basement; I was to deliver the young women to.

  Fifty cots lined the cramped space. Women thrown about, most high on drugs, clothes barely covering their beaten, bruised bodies. I offered them no help, no solace, by way of escape. Instead, I stand aside and order my men to bring the new girls in—who in a few weeks would be made just as hopeless as the others.

  At noon, I grab my keys and head to my car, knowing that I need to send word to the Bureau. The sooner they are informed; the sooner I will be rid of this life. This tethering between the soul I wish to have and the darkness that I find within the Bratva.