No one else seemed to mind how Valon had changed since he had developed a relationship with her. To them, he was no longer a ticking time bomb. Now, he was a bit more friendly and no longer looked like he was ready to murder them at the slightest provocation.
Everyone, that was, except for Fatos.
He seemed to grow more agitated the longer she stayed around and the more attention Valon gave her.
But like he always did, he ignored Fatos’ agitation, dismissing it as he always had.
One night, after a fight, Fatos was waiting for him at the side of the ring.
“How about we celebrate your victory,” he offered with a wide smile.
Valon glanced over at Bastian who was laughing and joking with a man who was handing over a large stack of money. When he looked over, Bastian nodded, interrupting the man as he rudely walked off and came over.
“Good work, boy. Maybe I should have given you pussy long before now, yes? You would have performed better.”
He laughed at his own joke, but both Valon and Fatos remained silent, watching him walk off again.
“What do you say?”
“I’m busy,” Valon said as he turned his back on his friend. “I’ll see you—”
“What is it that has you so enthralled with that whore?” Fatos spat out.
Before the consequences even crossed his mind, Valon swung at him, hitting him square in the face. Fatos didn’t go down, but his head did jerk to the side with the force of his punch.
Valon instantly regretted it, but it was too late to do anything about it, and he wouldn’t offer an apology he didn’t mean.
He had always hated that word, whore, and more than anyone else, Fatos knew this.
“Back off,” he warned him. The only warning he would ever give.
He was conscious of the attention that he was now getting, but he ignored the lot of them as he headed for the house. No one stood in his way, and when he reached his room, he closed and locked the door.
“Valon?”
Ignoring Elena until he could get his anger under control, he disappeared into the bathroom, turning on the shower, listening to the old pipes rattle as water began to spurt out.
He calmed the worst of his agitation beneath the spray of water, washing the night away. By the time he got out, he was far calmer. Dressing quickly, he headed back into the bedroom, ready to apologize to Elena, but there was no need. She didn’t look upset with him.
Sometimes, during moments like these, he remembered that she was too good for someone like him, someone who had his penchant for violence. Maybe one day he could offer her more than this.
“Valon…”
She touched him, startling him to the point that he jumped, looking over at her sharply, but she merely held her hands up like she wanted to appease him…make sure he knew that she wasn’t trying to hurt him like so many others had.
Shame and embarrassment filled him as he sat with her, seeing the surprise in her eyes. But pity didn’t follow. When she reached for him, he grabbed hold of her hand before she could touch him, but didn’t move it away.
“Has no one ever touched you with kindness?”
For a moment, thoughts of his mother came to mind, but they were gone just as quickly. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could conjure a memory of what it had felt like to be around her, how it had felt when she’d brushed his hair.
Valon shook his head. “Not in a very long time.”
She just stared at him for some time until she seemed to reach a conclusion. Carefully, she stretched out her hands, making sure he was watching her the entire time as she cradled his face, moving closer so that they were only a breath apart.
A fraction of a moment passed as he considered what she was about to do, but he was careful to keep himself still, the muscles in his arms flexing as he resisted the urge to touch her in return. Not sure of what she planned, he didn’t want to risk hurting her.
Very gently, almost as if she was nervous for this, Elena pressed her lips to his, only to pull away a second later. It was short, tentative, but in that one second, he felt more than he could have ever dreamed.
He felt that kiss in every part of his being, and even if he had never been kissed before, he knew that this was different from anything he had ever experienced. This wasn’t about aggression or taking something that wasn’t offered.
“That was okay, yes?”
Valon nodded, rubbing a hand over his shaved head. Truthfully, he wanted more, but was too afraid to ask for it.
But she read his desires like they were her own and kissed him again. This time, it was more languid, and as he attempted to mimic her movements, the kiss grew deeper until they were clinging to each other, sharp breaths leaving them.
When she rocked against him, he hissed, one hand immediately dropping to the curve of her hip, wanting her to repeat the motion, but she broke away from him, staring into his eyes.
Valon deflated. He worried that he might have done something she didn’t like, or worse…
“Are you afraid of me?” Valon asked carefully.
For once, he didn’t want someone’s fear, not like in the Pit when he was fighting for his life. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he wanted someone to be happy to see him, but maybe someone who didn’t feel the need to recoil when he entered the room or wary in his presence.
Just someone who would make him feel less alone in a house full of people.
He wanted her to want him as he did her, not because she was scared of what he might do otherwise.
“Of course not, Valon,” she whispered as she came closer. “There’s nothing about you that scares me. Not anymore. They’d warned me about you, when they took me from the house with the other girls. They said you were a monster, and you got off on the pain you put others through, so you wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me.”
She cradled his face, kissing him lightly. “But you have only ever been good to me. And I want to give you something in return.”
When she pressed her lips to his this time, he didn’t pull away, no longer wanting to resist what she was offering.
Valon didn’t feel as confident here as he did when he entered the Pit. This was uncharted territory for him. But he was willing to learn.
Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming over his chest, her nails dragging along the contours and lines. A heavy breath left him as he gave himself over to something that wasn’t pain.
Lifting his arms, he helped her get his shirt off, tossing it in a corner of his room. He was usually a stickler for having things in their place, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less about that.
While she was bold in her exploration of him, he was careful as he touched her in return, too afraid of hurting her to do much more than leave his hands at her waist. These hands were bred to only give the maximum amount of force possible. How was he to know what was too much, and what wasn’t enough?
“It’s okay, Valon,” she whispered against his lips as she pulled away. “You can touch me.”
He licked his lips. “I don’t…I don’t know how.”
She didn’t laugh, nor did she make fun of him, but instead, she held his hands with her own, showing him exactly what to do.
Each article of clothing they wore came off, one by one, until there was nothing between them.
He was careful as he caressed her skin, listening to the breathy moans she let out, using that as an indication of what she liked. Adrenaline was coursing through him, making him far more aware of what was happening.
Elena reached between them, lifting up as she guided him inside of her.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile on her lips. “I won’t hurt you.”
Chapter 11
Fatos stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest as he watched Valon, once a friend and the only person who Fatos truly cared for, stand over the boy he’d just defeated, his hands bloody, the rest of him with matching splatters.
The men of their organization cheered. It was more money earned for them.
Fatos couldn’t care less about this, but he did care that his work, the work he had been doing for the better part of two years was being overlooked. But that was only because Valon was making strides to belong in their world. He could ignore his own ambitions for a while, just so that his friend could prosper.
That was just the type of person he was.
He had done everything in his power to make Valon’s life enjoyable here ever since he’d learned what happened to his parents. Did he ask for anything in return? No. But Valon could have at least given him his loyalty, but the moment a pretty little distraction came forward, Valon acted as though Fatos didn’t exist.
Fatos might have considered letting the transgression go, if not for the fact that he was forced to see her every time he attempted to see his friend. Fatos didn’t mind Valon having a pet, if only that pet knew its place.
His friend was too nice, Fatos decided as he watched him get ready for the fight. If he couldn’t do what needed to be done to make sure that she knew her place here—which was nothing more than a glorified hole to be filled whenever someone felt like it—then he would make it his duty to show her exactly what that meant.
Turning on his heel, Fatos headed back to the house, leaving the screaming, clamoring men who had nothing better to do than watch someone beat another to death behind, ignoring the curious glances he received in return. It was rare that he ever ventured away from Valon’s fights. The only time he’d avoided them was when Valon was first put in there with those animals. He might not have been able to do anything about it then, but he had enjoyed, probably more than the others, when Valon bashed his skull in.
The house was relatively empty since most of the men were attending the fights in the back barns, but a few were hanging around, notably Strom who was sitting at a small folding table, an even smaller television playing the latest match sitting on top of it. He was eating a bag of chips, cheese crumbs dusting his beard and the front of his black shirt.
Strom could never be mistaken for anything more than a well-trained soldier, only ever doing what he was told, and probably had no ambition to acquire more than whatever paltry sum he was paid now. But because he was not the brightest, it made instructing him to do something that much easier.
Seeing the mess that Strom had made of himself, Fatos withheld his sneer, forcing a smile so that he at least looked somewhat kind. “I need a favor, Strom.”
He looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then rubbing said hand onto his pants.
Disgusting slob.
Ignoring him for the time being, he opened one of the cabinets, pulling out the industrial-strength ammonia that was stored there. Carefully, he poured some into an old water bottle, securing it back with the top before replacing the jug back beneath the sink. He smiled at the bottle in his hand a moment before focusing back on Strom.
“The girl that Valon has, where is she?”
Strom already had wide, almost bulbous eyes, so whenever he was surprised, it only emphasized this feature. “In his room, no? He doesn’t let her leave.”
For good reason, thought Fatos. Even he knew the kinds of men who walked in and out of this place, and if not for fear of what Valon was capable of, many might have ignored his rule of entering his room and taken the girl themselves. After all, she was one of only three who had stayed in this place for more than a few weeks…and the only one not addicted to heroin or whatever else Bastian forced into their bodies to make them more pliable.
That was how he had gotten the girl here, but Bastian should have known that Valon was not like the rest of them. He didn’t get off on hurting women, and before being put in the Pit, he didn’t get off on hurting anyone.
“I wanted to give her something, but I wanted to make sure that we were uninterrupted. You know how Valon can be about his things…and that dog of his.”
Of course, Fatos had known where the girl was—who didn’t?—but it was his worry about that damned beast of a dog that he’d needed to deal with. He was in no mood to be bitten, and seeing the way Valon had trained it, Fatos had a pretty good idea its orders were to attack first.
“Right, right. I’ll get it.”
Strom got to his feet, tossing the bag he held on the table as he led the way to Valon’s bedroom. Fatos stood back, watching Strom as he boldly opened the door, nearly laughing at his hesitation when the dog’s growling could be heard even at his distance.
“Let’s go, you mangy—”
Strom yelped in pain as the dog opened wide then latched onto his arm. He did, however, take it in stride, dragging the dog out of the room with very little argument.
When Fatos stepped into the doorway, his gaze was immediately drawn to the girl, frowning as he noted that she was wearing Valon’s clothes. Looking at her, he didn’t know what Valon saw in her. There was nothing particularly striking about her, none that Fatos preferred anyway. Besides, they were all whores, her more than others. She only sought to use Valon, but he wasn’t going to let that go on.
There had been fear in her eyes when Fatos entered, but that had dimmed when she saw him, as if she thought Strom was the bigger threat.
“Fatos?” she asked hesitantly. “I think Valon called you that?”
He frowned, not liking the sound of his name coming from her mouth. Did she think them equals? But it did pride him to know that Valon spoke of him.
“Valon is a dear friend of mine.” He turned to look at her, making sure she understood the gravity of that statement. “And I can’t let someone like you destroy that. You understand, don’t you?”
“I’m not—”
“I didn’t ask you to speak!” His voice raised at the end, scaring her as she visibly flinched away from him. He took a breath, calming himself. “He is not yours. Bastian brought you here, not just as a gift to Valon, but as a gift to us all. In fact, I urged him to do this, but not so you would think you have some kind of power over him. So, if you want to remain here, then it is time you show your appreciation.”
Fatos stepped further into the room, closing the door at his back. He placed the bottle on the bedside table, motioning with his hand for her to come closer. Whether out of fear or some other varying emotion, she did as commanded, her face lowered as she carefully moved toward him.
He might not have found her attractive, but her show of weakness, her meekness, called to him in a way that nothing else did, and made his dick hard. Maybe, if she acted appropriately, and as a good whore should, he wouldn’t need to hurt her…as much.
Her hands were in tight fists when she was finally seated on the edge, still looking down instead of at him.
Reaching for his zipper, he tugged it down, the sound of it impossibly loud in the silence of the room. Fatos only had so long before Valon returned.
He smiled, reaching to pet her hair as he pulled his semi-erect penis out of his boxers. She just held it for several moments, making his anger ignite, but as he was about to slap some sense into her, she twisted her wrist with strength he didn’t know she possessed, making him see stars as he yelled with pain.
Scrambling away from him, she’d almost made it to and out the door when he spun around and grabbed the length of her hair, yanking her back with strength she didn’t know he possessed.
She screamed, fighting for all that she was worth, but she had mistaken his kindness, and now, she would get what she deserved.
“You fucking bitch!”
He forced her onto the bed, straddling her chest. As she struggled, he used one gloved hand to smash the side of her face into the bed as he reached for the bottle, struggling to take the top off with one hand, but he managed it.
Some of the ammonia spilled on the floor as she jostled him, but he was in his element now. He didn’t bother with pretty words to explain why she deserved this. They both knew the truth.
She was nothing, would never amount to anything, and more impo
rtantly, he wanted to make sure that she understood exactly what they all thought of her.
Flipping the bottle upside down, he poured it onto her face, laughing as she screamed as her skin immediately started reacting to the chemical.
He was a decent man. He didn’t want it to damage both sides, just one.
Truthfully, he didn’t even want her to die. That would only upset Valon.
Plus, he wanted her to see exactly what he had done to her.
When there was nothing left, he tossed the bottle, pushing his way off her, but he didn’t leave. No, he remained, enjoying the way she writhed on the bed, using her hands to try to wipe off the liquid as though that would help.
Feeling a moment of compassion, if he were to call it that, Fatos headed for the bathroom, filling a bucket with water before exiting and throwing it on her face. She choked and gagged, now crying quite loudly, a fact that annoyed him.
He filled it once more and repeated the process before dropping the bucket on the floor and watching it roll over to a corner.
Tugging off the gloves he’d worn to protect his own skin, he tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up.
Fatos shook his head at the sight of her before walking to the door. “Whores need to learn their place. Valon doesn’t need you destroying everything he’s built for himself.”
Two of Bastian’s men came running to the door, undoubtedly drawn by her screams, and when they caught sight of her, their eyes widened in horror, and when they looked to him, there was fear there.
Not fear of him, he soon realized, but fear for him.
Did they truly think that Valon would hurt him over some whore?
Then they were as dumb as they looked. He wouldn’t choose someone like her over him. Their friendship went back years, and there was no one, not now or in the future, who Valon would ever put above him.
“Get her cleaned up and clean up the mess.”
To anyone else, they might not have had to follow his request, but because of who he was, or because of who his father was, they rushed to obey.
The City: A Novella Collection (Volkov Bratva Book 4) Page 15