Distrust (Smirnov Bratva Book 1)

by T. L Smith

  Chapter 24

  Elina

  His walk is dangerous, his voice is deadly. And those hands that are tucked into his pockets are sinful. His mind, though, I don’t trust it, not anymore. He walks closer to me but keeps his distance stopping just a few feet away. Bringing one hand out from his pocket, I watch as it twitches. He wants to touch me. He always wants to touch me. This time, I can’t allow him to. His dark jeans and his black shirt fit him perfectly. Under that covering his legs are toned, covered in ink. His body just the same. No one has more ink than Kazier, and because of that, the look he portrays is frightening and intimidating. People don’t know what to expect from him. Most want to kill him, to end him, so he no longer controls, so he can’t control them. They can’t. Many have tried, even my family, but none have succeeded. He has grown up in it, with it, he has taken it on as his craft. And because of that he’s the ultimate Pakhan, second to none. He loves what he does, any man can see that. Even I understand that nothing else matters to him.

  “Inside?” he asks me, pointing his finger toward the door.

  I shake my head. I’m not that forgiving to walk straight back into the lion’s den. Not happening.

  “The park,” I reply, waving to the park across the street. Out in the open is where I intend to be, not locked up where if I piss him off people can hear me scream.

  “The park? Don’t trust me?” he jokes. He smiles then it drops when he realizes that I quite simply don’t. We walk side by side, his hand brushing mine, then me pulling mine away so as to have no interaction at all. I may be his weakness, but he doesn’t know that he is mine also. We walk to a bench, only one other couple is here with their kids. They don’t look at us when we sit down. I feel his closeness, his dark boots tap on the ground beneath our feet.

  “Why are we here, Elina?” I know he doesn’t mean here. He means here, in this moment, right now, together.

  “You hurt me,” I manage to say. I don’t look at him, my eyes fixated on the couple pushing their son on the swing. They both look happy, something I can never have, something I’ve never experienced. Even with Kazier, my first real anything was fabricated out of something that wasn’t mine. It was forced. It didn’t become forced to see him. I liked seeing him, I liked everything about him. That was part of the problem. You don’t fall for a marked man, and that’s all he was, a mark I was meant to trade in. To eventually help them kill him.

  “You made me hurt you,” is all he says. His fingers start tapping on the chair where he holds on firmly. He does that when he thinks, his fingers start to tap away. “I warned you loud and clear, Elina.” He turns to face me, his eyes hard. “You’re lucky I let you go. You should be locked away right now. If you were anyone else, you would be. And that’s not because of your family, I don’t give two shits about them, you aren’t them, it’s because you were scared of me.”

  “You love it when people fear you.” It’s the truth, he does, he knows they do.

  His fingers stop tapping and he stares at me without blinking. “I did… I mean, I do. I just didn’t expect it to affect me that you did. That you feared me.” His hand lifts up slowly, and when he reaches for my face I pull back, his hand stops. Then it continues and knowing that he isn’t going to hurt me I let him touch me, but he doesn’t, instead he pulls my glasses from my face. He stares at both my eyes, one still slightly black from the punch and the other black and blue from where she hit me. He drops the glasses onto his lap then touches my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  My mouth opens and I have to force words to leave it because he’s sitting here saying sorry, the man who has a reputation to kill before they take their next breath and then walk away like it’s a normal day. The man who cuts people’s hearts and livers out to sell on the black market. The man who traffics, and destroys lives, is saying sorry.

  “I wanted to hate you,” I admit to him. “From the second night, I wanted desperately to hate you.”

  “You didn’t?” he questions pulling his hand away.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You do now, though,” he states like he can read me.

  “Yes! A part of me hates you, and I hope that soon I can cut you the way you’ve cut me.”

  He smirks at me. Then he reaches into his pocket pulling out a knife and hands it to me in the palm of my hand.

  “Cut me,” he says lifting his shirt to showcase his way too magnificent stomach. I grip the knife in my hand hard, wanting to, but knowing that I shouldn’t. He sees that I’m not going to, then he pulls my hand with the knife still clasped to his stomach placing pressure. I pull back and he lets me.

  “You can’t make me cut you,” I say dropping his knife to the ground.

  “What do we do?” he asks. “Why the fuck am I even asking you what we should do?”

  “Because you want it to be my choice. You don’t want to take it away from me again.”

  He nods his head. “My father insists I marry her,” he says referring to his arranged marriage. I’ve met her. Well, technically I haven’t, but I have met her fist and witnessed first-hand her anger.

  “Maybe you should.”

  I slide my hands down my jeans, his eyes watch me.

  “I’ve never seen you dressed like that.” A correct statement, he’s never seen me dress in anything other than a dress before. Mainly because it was easier to get out of, and I had to be quick with him. “I like it,” he says looking me over. Most of my body is covered, so very unlike what he has ever seen.

  “I have scars now, though.”

  His face scrunches up in pain. I didn’t mean to jab at him, or maybe I did, I don’t know, but he was the one that gave them to me.

  “Tell me you’ll marry me?” he asks standing fast, looking down at me.

  “That’s probably the worst proposal in history,” I reply with a shake of my head. “And no, I don’t want to be caught up in any of this. I’m actually leaving. I can’t stand to be here anymore. I just want to live normally,” I rush out, my breath now fast, wondering how he’ll react.

  He takes a step back, his eyes going dark. I know it’s almost time to leave before I do become the doll stuck in his house.

  “You can’t live normal, Elina, and you will marry me. One day… soon,” he says then turns and walks away. I watch him as he strolls away fast across the street. When he arrives at his building he steps up the stairs and punches the wall hard. I can almost hear the crack, then the door slams echoing through the streets.

  I don’t move, too stunned by his words.

  He wants to marry me?

  He doesn’t even know me.

  How could he let a word like marriage fly around like it means nothing? It’s not, it’s sacred. A beautiful thing. My anger begins to simmer, I can feel it burning through me, and before I know what I’m doing I’m knocking on his door. He pulls it open roughly, his eyebrows scrunched, his hands clenched, they automatically unclench when he sees me.

  “You…” I splutter. “You can’t do that! Do you hear me? You don’t even know me. How can you say we will be married when you don’t even know me?” My hands start flailing around, and when I stop yelling I pull them to my side. He smirks at me. I look down at his hand, it’s bleeding and I smile. He looks down then brings his hand up.

  “You’re happy now that I’m bleeding?”

  I am. Seeing him bleed makes me happy. It tells me he’s human after all.

  “I may not know every fact about you, but I know every fact there is regarding your body,” he says.

  Well, that’s true. I’ve noticed him studying me.

  “What’s my favorite color?” I retort.

  He looks down at the floor then back up to me. “It’s red. You always paint your toes with it, and you wear it all the time.”

  I don’t tell him if he’s wrong or right, I just turn and start walking down the stairs, because he is right. He notices everything about me. No one knows my favorite color, no one has ever cared enough to ask me befo
re.

  Chapter 25

  Kazier

  That woman consumes my every thought. Literally. Every. Thought. I’ve picked up the phone and hung it up every time I want to call. I’ve punched Anton over twenty times in the last few days, just because he laughs every time I do. I haven’t slept with anyone since her, haven’t touched anyone since her. I need her, and most of all I want her. I open my phone again, wondering if I should just ring, then I close it again. I walk to the fridge and just as I pull it open, it rings. I basically run to answer it, but when I notice it’s only Viktor I click ignore and realize the only way I’m going to stop being a broody bastard is to ring her.

  Her phone rings and rings, then on the fifth ring as I’m about to hang up, her voice echoes through to me. I know it’s late, but I also know she’ll be awake, she likes the darkness as much as me.

  “Are you going to speak? Or just keep ringing and hanging up?” her voice carries through the phone.

  “I haven’t decided,” I say honestly because I have no idea what I want to say.

  “Does your father know about me?”

  “He knows everything. What about yours?”

  She sighs deeply. “It was his set-up.” I look at the phone, then put it back to my ear.

  “What do you mean? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore, can you text me instead?” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she hangs up. I sit there and wait, unsure of what I should even say when her first text comes through.

  Elina: I’m sorry!

  I don’t even know what she means by that. That one word could mean anything. Why is she sorry?

  Me: Forgive me, come back.

  I see the bubbles appear, ticking over, then nothing. I sit and wait, the bubbles come again but stop. So I text.

  Me: Fav color?

  I watch as she starts texting again, a stupid smile stuck on my face when she replies.

  Elina: Red, but you already knew that.

  Me: Fav food?

  Elina: Anything with pulled pork. What’s yours?

  Me: I only have one, that’s you.

  Elina: Pity your sweet talk won’t work on me Casanova with a knife.

  Me: Do you love me?

  The bubbles start, then stop. My fingers begin tapping on the back of the phone, waiting and waiting for a response.

  Elina: Don’t ask me that.

  Me: I’m pretty sure I love you. If I could love anyone, it would be you. I would choose you. Every time.

  Again, my balls have disappeared, flown out the window never to be seen again. Now she has written proof that she’s it for me.

  No going back now, even if I wanted to.

  Now just to make her stay.

  ****

  When I arrive on Freya’s doorstep, I’m not sure how I’m meant to tell her. She opens the door with a smile on her face as she lets me in.

  “We need to talk.”

  She sits on the stool in her kitchen, nodding her head waiting for me to speak.

  “You will marry Viktor, not me.” Her eyes go large as she sits there stunned. “Freya, speak.”

  “Do you think of me as a toy?” she finally says. “Someone you can tell what to do? Push around?”

  I shake my head. “No! But your father requests that you marry. He won’t deny it if it’s Viktor.”

  She shakes her head.

  “I could put in another offer, possibly Anton, or even Death?”

  “Hell no…”

  “So Viktor it is?”

  “Have you even spoken to him about this? What if he kills me in my sleep?” she asks looking down a nervous tick in her jaw. She should be, he isn’t one to take lightly.

  “He will be fine as long as it comes from me first. Do you understand? Don’t say anything.”

  “I can’t believe I came here to marry you. Yet here you are, not wanting me and picking someone else. Am I that bad?”

  I drop my head—girls and their emotions. Maybe Death was right.

  “No, it’s not you. And if I met you two years ago, it would be different. I would have happily… well, semi-happily married you.”

  She smiles, then it drops. “You still want her, even after everything?” She knows the answer before I even respond. “I don’t like her… at all.”

  “You don’t have to, but if what I have initiated works out, you will have to respect her.”

  She looks down and doesn’t say another word. I walk out of her house, knowing that it’s for the best. Hoping so anyway, that is if Viktor doesn’t kill her.

  She stops me when I get to my car, my name leaving her lips. I turn to see her standing at the door.

  “Will you allow her to hurt me?” I give her a questioning look. “She might want to hurt me. After all, I did give her a black eye.” She shrugs her shoulders like she really doesn’t care at all.

  “No Freya, not this time.”

  “Are you saying I can’t do it again?”

  “No, you can never touch her again.”

  “Okay,” she replies basically skipping back into the house and shutting the door as she goes.

  Yep… she and Viktor will kill each other. I’m sure of it.

  Chapter 26

  Elina

  He sends me a random text every morning, and I wake to my phone beeping. It’s nice but weird. It’s nice in the way that I’m his first thought, and weird because I feel he’s stealing pieces of me every time we correspond.

  I could stay that way forever. I was comfortable that way. Having him, and knowing he wasn’t touching or seeing anyone else. It worked well for us, keeping each other hidden.

  Our families despise each other. Kazier despises my brother, my brother despises him. And that’s not even what our fathers think, they hate each other the most, and it wasn’t even their war that started it.

  I’ve been searching the internet for flights over the last few days, unsure of where, or even if I want to go. I really don’t think I can stay in this house any longer, but I also know my father won’t let me leave unless I’m married. And all the men he thinks I should be married to, are quite simply disgusting. I wouldn’t touch any of them with a ten-foot pole. Kazier’s name flashes up on my screen. I don’t answer it. Then a text comes through, I choose not to read that either.

  Pollie wants to meet me at a local café for a coffee, so I make my way there. When she comes in I can’t help but smile. She’s one of the only people in this world that I have any time for. Someone who never judges, her happiness factor is always miles above everyone else’s. She carries a case with her violin strapped to her as well as her walking cane. When she reaches the table she touches to feel for me then pulls me in for a hug. It’s light and makes me feel loved if only for a few seconds.

  “Pollie, I have missed you so much.”

  Her hand reaches out and she touches the top of my hand, she smiles brightly and it’s beautiful. “I missed you, too. I miss your gossip most of all, though. So tell me, what’s going on with this man of yours?”

  She knows about Kazier. Not everything, just enough that she knows we play games, too many games with each other.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with that. He messages me every morning though. It’s weird.”

  “It’s only weird because all you really had was body on body interaction. You told me he didn’t even know your last name, yet you were with him for two years.”

  She’s right, but she doesn’t know everything. I don’t ever want her to know everything. She’s too innocent, too good.

  “I’m thinking of leaving. I want to leave this place, and never return.”

  Her hand squeezes mine. “I know there are things that you hide from me. I may be blind Elina, but I am far from stupid.”

  “You don’t need to know half the things I hide from you, Pollie. You wouldn’t even believe it if I were to tell you.” I shake my head and her hand releases from mine.

  �
�I know your family is dangerous. I know you do as they say. I know that’s why you don’t speak of them. Or speak to me about them, at least.”

  Sometimes I forget how smart she is, how clued in on everything she is. It always surprises me the things that leave her mouth.

  “You better answer that…”

  I look down to my phone on the table and see Kazier’s name flashing on the screen. I let it go then watch as another text comes through. I open it because he’s my evil devil and I like to sin, especially with him even though I know I shouldn’t.

  Kazier: Answer your phone woman before I find you.

  Me: I’ve left, don’t try to find me.

  I turn my phone off, looking back up to see Pollie with a sad smile on her face.

  “You’ve made your decision, haven’t you?” she asks.

  “I have.”

  We sit and talk about Pollie’s music. She plays with a band and is always traveling to New York for Broadway musicals. She says she’s getting tired of it, she wants something more solid, something grounded and closer to home.

  Just as I get up to leave, Maso appears behind her, he glimpses down at me and then to Pollie. I know she feels his presence straight away, her back goes straight and she sits up higher.

  “Sister,” he says in a chipper voice like he’s caught me down the rabbit hole.

  “I’m just about to leave, walk me out,” I say standing, throwing my phone back into my purse. He ignores me and sits down right next to Pollie. He looks at her, really looks at her up and down and then he smirks.

  “Who’s your friend?”

  Pollie’s eyebrows scrunch behind her glasses, and I know straight away she doesn’t like him.

  “Pollie,” she answers turning to him and holding her hand out for Maso to shake it. He takes it and kisses her hand, lingering too long and she starts to pull away feeling uncomfortable.

  “I’ve never met any of Elina’s friends. She’s always kept them away from me since high school,” he teases leaning into her. I watch as she fidgets in her chair, trying to pull away from him.

  “There’s a reason for that, Maso. You fucked them all then threw them away like the trash,” I say. I love my brother, more so than I love my own father. That doesn’t mean I want him around anyone I consider my friend. He thinks with his dick, that is when he isn’t thinking through anger.