Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

He was forced to relive it as his penance once more.

  So, it began.

  As soon as he rushed into the house, he pulled the bowie knife from his boot. Once inside, he rushed toward her small, vile bedroom where their father and his friends went to rape her.

  He opened the door and there she was—this slip of a girl—pinned beneath him as he pummeled her tiny body with his. The smell of sex and blood assaulted him.

  It horrified him.

  Only, it wasn’t his father’s blood.

  YET.

  Dimitri hadn’t delivered the killing blow.

  His mind was in control, and it forced him to focus on his sister. She wasn’t a day over ten, and she was being destroyed by the man who created her.

  The copper-y penny smell made him want to puke, as their father dug his nails into her throat, as his swollen erection was forced into her small body.

  The rage was there.

  The hate.

  The anger.

  He knew it was time. With one swift move, he stuck the knife into his own father’s throat, killing him. With a strength that he didn’t know he had, he finished him off, snapping his neck like nothing more than a small branch beneath his boot.

  He was done.

  Kat was free.

  As soon as he had her in his arms and she clung to him, the vision wavered. It was a different house, a different girl, and still it caused him so much pain.

  He had to lie to get her. He had to pretend to want her for nothing more than sex. It was anything but. This was about saving her.

  He gave the woman more money than she’d see in a lifetime, and then headed toward the dark room to get his new property.

  Inside, he found her, her ankle chained to a radiator, her bone stick legs protruding from beneath the rags that the woman forced her to wear.

  Immediately, she looked up at him with dead, cold eyes. She was close to death, and he’d nearly been too late. He’d had to kill so many to get the money to save her.

  He’d had to wade through the blood of many women, men, and children to save this child—his blood.

  In that moment, he didn’t regret it.

  As Natasha’s mother unlocked the chain and grabbed the broken girl by the hair to drag her across the floor, clumps of what looked to be dirty red hair fell from her head.

  It made him sick. She was less than human as she howled like an animal in pain. Then she scooted back to the corner as if she expected him to hurt her.

  The poor thing cowered.

  His heart broke.

  Dimitri could hear himself talking in Russian, trying to coax her away. She wouldn’t budge. It was a sad testament to what this woman did to her.

  She was a victim, but she’d rather stay with her than trust a stranger.

  After a few moments of him kneeling on that dirty floor, she finally understood.

  He was her salvation.

  Dimitri reached down for her, and when he lifted her into his arms, he could feel the bony edges of her body, digging into his. She weighed nothing. She was like a sack of dust, barely straining his arms.

  She was on death’s door as she clung to him, and in that moment, he took a vow. He’d avenge them. Those two broken children, one his full blood, and one his half-sister, would have their revenge.

  He carried her out, tucked her into the back of the car with his other sister, and handed her some water and cookies. She ate them like she’d hadn’t been fed in weeks, as she backed away from him so not to be hurt.

  He could see Natasha in the darkness huddled on the floorboard of the back seat, trying to be invisible. She was trying to disappear by making herself as small as possible.

  That enraged him.

  And it scared him since he knew what came next.

  Revenge.

  Vengeance.

  Punishment.

  Whispering to Katerina, he turned and went back into the house. He knew Natasha’s mother was done.

  For this, he’d never forgive or let her live.

  What was one more soul on his shoulders?

  What was one more kill?

  There had already been so many, and he’d never forgotten any of them. They were links in the chain that held him to this world.

  At the door, he knocked again, and she opened it, smiling like she’d won the lottery.

  Oh, she had.

  The reaper had come, and it was time.

  Once inside, he beat her to death with his own hands, breaking her limbs, spilling her blood, and then ending her by slicing her throat. In the end, he wrapped that chain round her bloody neck, locking her to that radiator—a shiny gold coin shoved down her throat.

  As her blood ebbed across his boots, he stared down at her with nothing but emptiness.

  He had no remorse.

  He had no sorrow.

  Instead, he walked out that door, never to return. Once outside, the car was gone, and it was a different scene.

  Dimitri knew what was next. He was struggling to get free, as he was tied to a chair.

  He recalled those months of this, and he prayed the memories would flash past him, giving his battered soul a break.

  Only, they didn’t.

  Dimitri was being tortured, and the entire time, he knew he deserved it.

  He’d killed so many, and he justified it all. It was his duty, his honor, and his privilege to end their lives. He was tortured for three months, and they made sure the scars were mostly invisible. He’d been battered, bruised, starved, and the entire time he only thought one thing.

  He’d failed the two little girls. They were by themselves as he took this one last job to make them enough money. Only, he’d screwed up. He’d been betrayed by a woman—one he trusted.

  Now, he was fighting to live to get back to them.

  Love had done this.

  Someone he’d felt safe with had broken him. Dimitri mourned it in his dream, struggling to get free of the memories and burdens of his heart.

  He focused on his sisters, and he knew he had to escape. They had nothing but him, and his will to live had to be greater than his longing to die.

  As the dream shifted, more death came. He’d killed them, too, doing horrible things to escape. He slaughtered the woman who’d helped them.

  Dimitri killed her, and the child she carried to prove a point. He hadn’t known she was pregnant, but it didn’t matter.

  It was too late for her, and for him.

  All of this made him, and as he was about to fall into the cataclysmic abyss of darkness. He won again.

  Dimitri woke himself up with a start.

  He was free.

  God!

  It was lies.

  He would never be free!

  Emma could feel him moving.

  The whole bed was shaking, and she felt horrible that she’d caused this pain. As she sat up, his fists were clenched, his body taut, and he was struggling.

  She touched his chest, and he was warm. Immediately, she pulled the blankets off them, and she went to her knees.

  “Dimitri!”

  He continued to battle something.

  “Dimitri! It’s okay,” she said, hoping she could get through to him.

  Suddenly, he sat up with a start, his eyes popping open. He focused on her, and she stayed very still.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice heavy with the drugs and horrors of sleep.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He covered his face as he tried to shake off the demons. “No, but I will be.”

  The worst part, when he was most vulnerable, was this moment. It was when he woke, confused, disoriented, and when he could be hurt the most.

  Emma moved closer, and she wrapped her arms around him until he stopped shaking. Then she laid back, taking him with her until he was pressed to her side.

  He fought to move, but she held on.

  “Shhh. I’m here. Just rest a second. It was only a dream. It can’t hurt you.”

&nb
sp; Oh, she was very wrong.

  It could hurt him.

  It always did.

  “It was more than a dream. It was my life,” he whispered, trying to regain control of everything around him. Once he was in control, he could beat it back.

  Emma held him closer, and she soothingly ran her hand across his arm and back. “I have you. You’re safe. Whatever was chasing you won’t get you here.”

  He wasn’t so sure of that, but the scent of her perfume, the soft feel of her body…it calmed him.

  It helped him relax.

  She gave him a kiss on the temple, and all the tension was gone. It helped that she wasn’t asking him uncomfortable questions.

  Instead, she just held him.

  Dimitri didn’t remember when that had happened last. No one ever touched him. Kat and Nat loved him, hugged him, but when he woke afraid, scared, or haunted, it was always alone. This was the first time in…ever.

  His heart rate slowed.

  He pulled away from her, still grateful for that contact. He didn’t have the words to tell her what it meant to him. He refused to break. He was stronger than that, and he had to be.

  Everyone needed Dimitri for his strength.

  Except her.

  It confused him so much that it brought tears to his eyes.

  With her, he felt value.

  Emma didn’t give up when he moved away from her. Instead, she battled harder for him. She went with him, placing her head on his shoulder, and her arm over his waist.

  She held him as he fought whatever was in his heart and mind. Emma wasn’t giving up. She’d lost one brother, and she wasn’t losing this one.

  As they lay there, he finally spoke, breaking his silence.

  “Greyson would not be amused if he saw this.”

  She knew differently. He’d told her to help him, and she was doing just that.

  This was what Dimitri needed.

  “He knows I’m in bed with you. I spoke to him three hours ago, and he’s fine. Relax.”

  He was trying.

  It wasn’t easy.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s a little after four in the morning. You should go back to sleep. You need rest in order to heal. Tomorrow is going to suck if you don’t sleep.”

  He didn’t doubt it.

  Every day sucked.

  “I can’t go back to sleep.”

  She knew he was afraid, but he wouldn’t say it.

  “Well, I need to sleep. Can you just stay here with me?” she asked.

  He’d be stupid not to take her up on her offer. He really hoped Greyson knew, or this risked everything he’d found and fallen in love with in his life.

  He couldn’t lose the family.

  “Please?” she asked.

  “Okay, Emma.”

  She laid there, her hand moving back and forth across his abs. She was hoping it soothed him.

  When he yawned, she kept going. She snuggled closer, dropping her leg over his, and pulling the blanket over them. They cuddled like two kids scared during a thunderstorm.

  She’d done this with Gage so many times when they were kids.

  It brought back memories.

  “I like the smell of your hair,” he admitted, as he yawned again. “You always smell like a garden.”

  She didn’t speak.

  Instead, she held him even tighter. Clearly, it was soothing him because it began to work.

  Slowly, Dimitri slipped into sleep. She could hear the soft in and out of his breathing.

  He was relaxed again, and this time, he wasn’t dreaming. That would help him. Maybe he could find some peace.

  She didn’t move for a little while. When the clock said five fifteen, she knew she needed to head down and get the things Greyson would have sent.

  They were starting a case, and she should rest, but she couldn’t help but want to mother him.

  One day he’d open up to her.

  She knew he would.

  Until then, she’d battle on.

  Dimitri Gideon wasn’t going down.

  Not on her watch.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  Across Town

  Julie’s Apartment

  Marissa Pierce couldn’t sleep. She was rattled to her core. The sexy Dimitri Gideon hated her fucking guts, and she couldn’t blame him.

  What had she been thinking?

  She stabbed the man in a hotel room.

  Marissa was obviously out of her damn mind, and she needed to apologize today. Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn’t kill her. She knew what they said about him.

  He was lethal.

  He was dangerous.

  He was sexy.

  He was the kind of man you didn’t get attached to because they didn’t live long. Still, he was the epitome of masculinity. When she’d seen him without his shirt, she wanted to touch him, run her fingers over his skin, and do wicked things—even as she wanted to hate him.

  He was an enigma.

  Marissa didn’t get why a man as sexy as him had to hire prostitutes. What was he thinking?

  Any woman would crawl just to touch him.

  Including her.

  Working with him at ‘Aquarius’ had been hard. He smelled so delicious, and she always checked him out.

  Marissa heard all the women talking. He’d slept with each of them, but only once. The stories they’d tell about the sex made her green with envy.

  She wanted that one taste of paradise to forget. Only, she’d never have it.

  Why?

  Because she tried to stab him.

  Why couldn’t her life be easy?

  Maybe there was hope. After all, she couldn’t believe she was going to be getting his help, but she was.

  Again.

  That day he brought her home, she’d been scared. She wanted him to stay, and she wanted to beg him for help, but she’d lied to him.

  That was so wrong of her, and she knew it. Dimitri had rules, and she’d broken them while working at ‘Aquarius’. That had been her first mistake.

  Her second was that she wanted to be near him. When he was around, she felt safe.

  That was priceless in her life. He could give her what no one else could.

  Protection.

  The day he rescued her from the detective who pushed her around, she wanted to kiss him.

  She still did.

  Only now that was gone.

  He wanted to kick her ass, and she didn’t blame him. She would have reacted the same way too. Stabbing a man was not the way to get his help, or attention.

  Today, she’d be on her best behavior.

  Today was a new beginning.

  Dimitri and his friends would help her find Julie, and she could move on with life and finally be free.

  There was hope.

  There was a shot at happiness.

  It had to work out.

  There was so much on the line.

  Julie’s life depended on her playing nice, and for her sister, she’d do anything.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  When he opened his eyes, Emma was gone. In fact, he looked at the clock, and he’d slept another two hours.

  What the hell?

  How did she get him to fall back to sleep, and where was she?

  Dimitri hopped out of bed, and he pulled on a t-shirt that he’d grabbed from his dresser. Once on, he padded down the hall to the main area of his living space. From the doorway, he could see her in his kitchen.

  Emma was making something.

  “Hey! You’re up,” she said, picking him up from the corner of her eye. “I made you something to eat,” she said, as he slowly approached her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She laughed at the look of confusion on his face. “Are you okay? I just told you I’m making us breakfast.”

  He stared at her.

  “What?” she asked, looking around.

  “I just don’t know
what to think,” he said. “In one day, I’ve been assaulted, stabbed, drugged, I slept with a woman married to a man I consider my best friend, and now she’s in my kitchen cooking—in a place I don’t bring women. Ever.”

  Emma knew he was off balance, and that was exactly her plan. Dimitri was a man of planning, constant restriction, and abusing himself over his past.

  If she could keep him guessing, he wouldn’t be focused on anything else.

  Emma knew men.

  She was married to the biggest enigma of them all.

  Instead of answering, she handed him a mug of coffee. She went up on her toes and gave him a kiss.

  “You’re funny. Not many people see that. You should let that side of Dimitri out. He’s sweet.”

  Now he stared in horror.

  “No one sees that,” he said, taking a seat. “There’s a reason for that, and I’m not sweet! No one calls me sweet!”

  Truth be told, no one made him breakfast in his home.

  Hell!

  There was a good reason for that. He didn’t want to be weak.

  “Well, you were hurt, I did drug you, and I figured to get your forgiveness, I’d feed you.”

  “You don’t need my forgiveness.”

  She stared at him. “I do. I didn’t know about the nightmares. Had I, I wouldn’t have taken your free will and forced you to sleep with that tranquilizer. I think my need to take care of you got a little out of hand.”

  He wasn’t upset with Emma.

  He couldn’t be.

  There wasn’t a malicious bone in her body. Besides, he knew anger, hate, and abuse. That wasn’t her.

  “Why do you want to take care of me?” he asked. “That’s what I don’t get. Why? I’m nothing to you.”

  She headed back toward him. “That’s bullshit. You mean a lot to me.”

  He laughed.

  There was no way that was possible.

  Other than his sisters, since he saved them, he was nothing to anyone but a tool to be used to kill, hunt, or protect.

  No one ever got to know him.

  Ever.

  “I’m serious. You matter, Kat matters, and Natasha too. I love all three of you. To me, you’re not Gideons, but Crofts. I’ll fight for you, Dimitri, even if you tell me to stop.”