Blackness Within (The Blackness Series Book 5)

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Blackness Within (The Blackness Series Book 5) Page 18

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson


  He closes his eye with that very real threat and I leave the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

  I have a plan to work into the Vojtech Bratva. I’m going to have to ask some huge favors and risk lives in order to make it happen. In the end, it will be worth it. I can only hope we all survive the wait. I’m not sure I will. And I’m terrified Natasha won’t.

  “Hey, Butch,” I greet kindly with a clap on his back.

  Butch Rossi is a scary looking man. His large frame combined with a face marred by a long scar from his eye to his upper lip causes his classically Italian features to look ominous. Him sitting with the twins in his lap while he tickles and eats their cheeks removes any threat. He’s a good man. I’m getting ready to ask him to go back to a time where he wasn’t such a good man.

  “That look on your face says we got problems. What’s goin’ on?” he asks pointedly in a gruff gravelly voice.

  “Need some help,” I answer honestly, depositing myself on the sectional next to him.

  Kid’s on the floor playing with Johnny while Cooper sits on the couch with his baby Jessie (Jessica) bouncing on his knee. Blake is watching all of us closely from a few cushions away.

  He’s been staying with us a week now and it’s been difficult. Thank fuck we have Aidan around for medical care. Once he got Blake fixed up from the beating, Aidan struggled to help a very stubborn Blake through the last of his detox. A few days ago Blake finally turned the corner and shit is looking up for him. Drugs will be a lifelong struggle, but he’s ready to battle. I’ll enjoy watching that fight.

  “What kinda help?” Butch asks suspiciously.

  “The kind I feel like shit askin’ for.”

  “Does it have to do with him?” Butch nods at Blake.

  “Yeah,” Blake answers honestly.

  “You gettin’ clean?” Butch retorts.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. What do you need from me?” Butch directs his question to me as the twins crawl out of his lap and make their way into mine.

  I juggle them around a little before answering.

  “I need you to reach out to the Vojtech Bratva to start distributing again,” I state plainly.

  “What?” he grinds out harshly.

  “Butch, just hear him out,” Kid urges.

  Butch nods, but he’s not happy.

  “Blake’s sister is bein’ held by Vojtech. We tried to go in and get her, but failed miserably. He’s got the cops and the FBI in his pockets. My cousin can’t make a move against him. Cooper can’t pull any strings in the DCA. We’re stuck and we need an in.”

  “I can’t do that to Mia. I’m not goin’ back to prison, Brian. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” Butch says simply.

  “That won’t happen, Butch,” Cooper pipes in. “I can’t get the DCA to go after Natasha, but I can assure you there’s no way you’d in up in prison again. I’ll see to that personally.”

  “And if I die?”

  “You’re not gonna die,” Kid growls from the floor.

  “Shannon, things didn’t go well for me the last time I interacted with these people.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll keep you safe and Mia even safer,” she assures him.

  I believe her. Butch believes her too.

  “Vojtech has her?” Butch asks Blake.

  “He’s had her over a week now. I tried to get her out. Got my ass beat and then she told me herself that she no longer had a brother and to forget about her.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” the room agrees with Butch.

  “Shannon?” Butch questions what he considers his niece and she really is.

  “I can’t get Natasha myself. I need your help, Butch. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it weren’t my last option,” she says in a pained voice.

  When I told Kid my plan, she wasn’t happy. But she quickly saw the merit in my idea. If Butch can get into the organization, we’ll have an easier time getting Natasha out. It will take time for Butch to get back in at the level we need him. This will be a waiting game of massive proportions, but it’s our only play.

  The DCA agents undercover in the warehouse are keeping tabs on Natasha and reporting to Cooper. At this point, we know she’s in good health and rarely away from Vojtech’s side. That last fact makes my stomach turn at least twenty times an hour. If I wasn’t a fucking idiot, she’d be at my side. I have to believe she’ll be there soon. That’s the only thing carrying me forward at this point.

  “What’s the plan?” Butch asks, agreeing to help us. I told you he’s a good man.

  Blake explains the Vojtech Bratva as best he can. Cooper explains the ins and outs of the DCA involvement and the protection Cooper himself is offering. Kid and I explain our plan. After a few hours, Butch stands, pulls me in for a strong hug before murmuring in my ear, “I’ll get your girl back.”

  I feel a ghost of a smile creep across my face when he pulls away and a former criminal comes back to life. He owes men in the Bratva a good deal of pain for what happened to his wife and daughter and we’ve just offered him the opportunity to exact his revenge while helping us. We’re all going to be winners. If our plan works.

  It has to.

  Natasha

  Late February

  “Good morning,” Roman purrs into my ear as he pulls my naked body to his.

  I settle my cheek on his chest and close my eyes to continue to snooze. This is our pattern in the morning. It’s not really morning. We don’t wake up until the early afternoon because we don’t go to sleep until the wee hours. I’m getting used to the schedule, but I still nap for a while as Roman works from bed.

  “I need to get up now, Natasha,” Roman informs me and I huff in response.

  Responses like this have become easy. I’ve trained myself to be a needy girlfriend. It seems to please Roman and that’s my goal at this point. I keep him happy and I stay alive. It’s an easy equation to solve.

  “You need to get up too. We’ve got an appointment in an hour,” he says not breaking from our cuddled position.

  “’Kay,” I murmur into his dragon wings.

  I move to roll away from him, only to be pinned where I lay.

  “I can’t get up if you keep me in bed,” I admonish weakly.

  He runs a finger under my chin and tips it up to meet his midnight gaze.

  “I need you to be good today, Natasha. No foolish mistakes.”

  I won’t be making any more mistakes. I made one after I crushed Blake and that was the last one I’ll make. I spit in Roman’s face when he came back to his room. I couldn’t help myself. I was hurt, furious, out of my mind with rage and it just happened. I’ve never spat on anyone in my life. But if I’m honest, it felt good. Until it didn’t.

  Roman carried me kicking and screaming over his shoulder down to the basement and chained me to the wall again. He informed me if I intended to behave like an animal he’d treat me as such. I was stripped of my clothes. My food was slop served in a dog bowl. My water was offered the same way. He left me there for two days.

  When he came for me, I begged for forgiveness and clung to him as he carried me wrapped in a blanket, cocooned within his arms back to his room. I know that punishment was minimal compared to what I could have received. I won’t test what the next level is. I decided to stay here and live this life. It’s been almost six weeks since I made that happen. I know how to work for what I want. I want to live and I’m working Roman to make that happen. I can do this and I will.

  When Roman’s kind and gentle, I feel good with him and I forget all the bad, even if it’s just for a moment. When Roman’s cruel, it’s more cutting than anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m doing my damnedest to spend all my time working to only experience the sweet. I’m aware this is sick and dysfunctional. I sound like an abused woman keeping her abuser at bay. I’ve watched my mother enough in life to understand that’s what I am now. I’m a victim trying to survive as best I can. I’m every
thing I swore I’d never be in life and I hate myself for it, until I remind myself that Blake’s alive because I’m here. That’s enough to spur me on every day.

  “I understand,” I assure him.

  Roman studies me for a few breaths before rolling me to my back, climbing on top of me. I reach up and caress his cheek as he leans his forehead against mine.

  His dick is rock hard and perched at my entrance. I reach between us with my free hand and stroke him firmly. As I do, he hisses with pleasure through his teeth. I may hate Roman, but I love what his body does to mine. I’ve stopped trying to fight it. When he touches me, I want more. And he always gives me more.

  “We don’t have time,” Roman complains.

  “Please,” I urge him to take me.

  “Later,” he replies, kissing my forehead. Then he’s out of my grasp and standing with a hand extended for me.

  I take it and allow him to pull me out of bed. He wraps me in his arms before smashing his lips against mine in a bruising assault. I cling to his hips as we tangle tongues, knocking teeth a few times. This isn’t a typical kiss for us. This is rough…animalistic. At the realization, I begin to hesitate. He’s treating me like his other women. His invasion of my mouth hurts and stings. His fingers dig into my skin roughly, adding to the pain of his kiss. This is different…bad different. What the fuck?

  “What?” he murmurs against my mouth.

  “That’s not how you kiss me,” I answer sheepishly.

  He sets me back a little and stares into my face, a look on his face I’m unfamiliar with.

  “How do I kiss you?” he asks unemotionally.

  “Not like that,” I reiterate.

  “How do I kiss you, Natasha?” he repeats with annoyance in his voice.

  “Like you mean it.”

  “Did I not mean that?”

  “No,” I whisper and drop my chin to my chest.

  He knows what he just did and he did it for a reason. I don’t know the reason, but I’m certain it’s not good for me. I move away from him and am further concerned when he makes no attempt to stop me. This is bad.

  “Fuck,” I mutter as I climb in the shower and prepare myself for the unsure day that lies ahead.

  I wash my hair and body as quickly as I can and step out of the shower as Roman enters the area. I keep my gaze averted. Every time I think I’ve got him figured out, he changes and throws me off my game. I wish I was better at this. I wish I didn’t crave the kindness he teases me with. I wish I was strong enough to get away from here. I wish I had the courage to let him kill me. I never got my birthday wishes as a child. Why should it be any different now?

  Strong dragon devoured fingers wrap around my bicep as I pass him. I stop moving immediately and wait. He gently directs me to stand in front of him and I follow easily. I keep my eyes on my pink-painted toes though. Until his hands run under my arm pits and drag me off the floor. My towel tumbles to the tile before Roman sets me on his cold black marble vanity, settling himself between my legs.

  “I don’t kiss you like that,” he states and then he kisses me.

  He devours my mouth with passion and heat. My mouth scorches as his tongue drags across mine. My lips tingle as his meld to mine. My hands fist the back of his buzzed head as a moan appreciates the tender Roman.

  I’m breathless when he pulls away, tracing small circles on my hips where his hands have been gripping me.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes and I stifle a gasp. He’s never said that in all the time I’ve been here. He didn’t when he took me. He didn’t when he freed me the first time. He didn’t when he made me hurt Blake. He didn’t when he punished me. Why now?

  “I had to see,” he explains.

  “See what?” I question confused.

  “I had to see if you were still with me.”

  “I’m yours, Roman. You know that,” I grumble.

  “You’ve been using sex to divert,” he accuses. He’s right.

  “I like having sex with you.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Natasha.”

  “I’m sorry if you don’t like having sex with me as much as I like having sex with you. I won’t instigate again.” I quickly try to recover.

  “Natasha,” he growls as his midnight eyes flare with anger.

  “I’m sorry, Roman. I don’t know what I did wrong,” I whimper.

  “Convince me.”

  How the fuck do I convince him if sex is making him suspicious? I need a degree in tradecraft to deal with Roman Vojtech. I don’t have that so I wing it and hope like hell it works.

  “Make love to me,” I say softly.

  A full broad smile breaks across his face, shocking me. He looks so different with happiness in his features. I’m going to crave this now. When he sighs in relief and settles his forehead against mine, I feel my body relax. I convinced him.

  “It will take me hours to make love to you, Natasha. I’ll spend all night buried in you, but I can’t right now. We need to get to this meeting.”

  He kisses me breathless once again before helping me off the counter and wrapping me in my towel. Intimate. Soft. Tender. Sweet Roman is back and I’m elated.

  I’m in the dress that Roman laid out for me to wear, a pretty jersey charcoal dress that clings to every curve down to my wrists and calves. I’m completely covered, not even cleavage showing with the slash neck. I look sexy though. The hint of what lies beneath the material is suggestive and alluring. The slit that runs high up the back adds to that.

  Since it’s day, I left my make-up light and my hair in a low bun at the base of my neck. Roman, as every other day, is in a black suit. Today he’s wearing a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar allowing the dragon a better view of the world.

  We’re in the back of a limo with Igor riding shotgun, two SUVs of men ahead of us and another two following us. Roman’s been working on his smart phone since he got out of the shower, only speaking to me in order to direct me.

  He’s tense. His body is radiating that cold granite feeling he gets when he’s preparing for the worst. Sweet Roman is gone. I’m not the point of contention, yet I want to calm him. I’m getting sicker by the day. I realize this and I can’t stop my hand from tentatively resting on his thigh.

  Roman’s flying fingers halt instantly at the contact. He moves his smart phone to the side and peers down at my hand, shifting his gaze all the way up my arm until he reaches my face. The impassive features that stare at me are worrying. I leave my hand and give him a reassuring squeeze followed by a sweet smile. Then I get bold, breaking eye contact first and swing my gaze out the window, with my hand remaining on his powerful leg.

  Then he snorts. Snorts. It’s almost a laugh. My gaze is immediately back on his and I find a mischievous smile playing on his lips. I beam at him in return. God I really do crave the sweet Roman.

  Our moment is broken when the limo glides to a stop in front of an old Italian restaurant. The basic red brick building is unremarkable, but the tattered white painted sign hanging above the awning is anything but. Carmine’s is known for the illegal activity that runs through it. A mob restaurant. I’m with a drug kingpin so I’m not surprised, but I am uneasy.

  This is the first time we’ve left the warehouse. I had a brief moment where I thought this could be the moment I get away. Then my brain kicked in gear and I realized how foolish that idea is. Twenty or so men plus Igor would catch me before these Louboutins get scuffed. I need to just accept the fact that this is my life for the foreseeable future. If I keep torturing myself with hope, I’ll never make it.

  Igor pulls the door open and offers me his hand. I take it and climb to my feet, careful of the ice frosting the cracked sidewalk. Roman rises from limo looking more ominous than I’ve ever seen him. I’m in heels and it’s as though he looms taller than when I’m barefoot. His shoulders seem to have expanded to twice their normal size. The dragon even looks to be standing prouder as it peers at me from beneath Roman’s chin. I’
m fucking terrified.

  Roman walks past me as if I’m a stranger so I remain on the sidewalk. The SUVs of his armed men filter in the restaurant behind him, all brandishing guns of some sort.

  I have no clue what I’m supposed to do in this moment. I want to test the running abilities of these expensive shoes. As the last of the Bratva disappears, I breathe deeply.

  I’m alone. The limo driver just pulled away from the curb and Igor led the charge behind Roman. I could go.

  “Run,” I encourage myself.

  My feet stay rooted. My heart thunders in my chest. My eyes dart around the empty street for the trap.

  “Run,” I plead with my body to move.

  I can’t.

  I don’t have Junior.

  I have nowhere to go.

  I’m still alone in the world only this time there’s no Blake or Sully to come rescue me.

  And now I’m thinking about Sully and Blake, which I swore I wouldn’t do anymore. When I think about them, I lose focus. Without focus at every turn, Roman will shock me and force a mistake. A mistake like running right now.

  “Natasha,” Roman’s voice scares the shit out of me.

  I scream with a start and jolt with surprise. My heels do me no favors and I begin to fall to the icy ground. Before I completely wipe out, Roman’s muscled arms wrap around my body. I cling to his jacket as I slip and slide, attempting to right my feet beneath me.

  When I finally steady myself, I peer up into Roman’s face to see impending punishment marring his features.

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  “What are you doing, Natasha?” he snarls bending into my face.

  “Waiting,” I respond honestly.

  “If you’re trying to figure out which direction to run, I would go east,” he says coolly.

  Did he hear me talking to myself?

  “I’m not dressed for a run,” I try to divert.

  “What are you doing?” he persists, squeezing me tighter.

  “I didn’t know what to do. You walked by me and then the men left. I was waiting for some direction.”

 

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