Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva Book 4)

by London Miller

  “You were so high last night that you didn’t even notice when I walked through their fucking compound.” He was gazing off, as if he remembered exactly what she was afraid to hear. “That only told me that you couldn’t have known that the little shit who you were with was undressing you in front of everybody, one hand down that pathetic excuse for a fucking dress.”

  Alex swallowed, now feeling the irritation rolling off him in waves. Setting her plate down, she moved away from him.

  “Oh, did I upset you?” he asked in a falsely sweet voice, those hard blue eyes of his now trained on her. “Imagine what the fuck it did to me.”

  “Whatever.” She got to her feet, heading for the door, but as she turned the knob, it didn’t budge. “What the fuck are you doing, Luka?”

  “We’re going to stay in here for a bit and hash this shit out. Oh, yeah. And you’re going to detox for a bit. You probably feel fine now, but once you come down, it’s going to be a bitch. Trust me.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You can’t keep me here!”

  He smiled, and she saw the exact look that she knew he gave to those he meant to intimidate. “Who’s going to stop me?”

  “Luka, you can’t.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be here to get you through it.”

  18

  ____

  Ultimatums

  He’d seen addiction back during his time with Bastian. He had seen the effects of it on the men who shot up before entering the Pit and even the women who Bastian bought for the men. Mostly, he remembered the one girl with the stringy black hair who’d lain across the desk as Bastian stood behind her, shoving his way into her body as she remained still in front of him. To this day, he still didn’t know whether she had still been alive at the time. The thought of Alex like that with Snow only managed to piss him off more, and earlier, after she’d passed out when he carried her from the shower, the walls of his bathroom had suffered the worst of his rage.

  Whether Alex was ready to confront the issue or not, he was going to get to the root of whatever problem she had and resolve it, even if he had to break her in the process, but ultimately, he didn’t believe he would. She was strong, stronger than most gave her credit for, and he needed to remind her of that.

  “So, what? You plan on keeping me here, like as your captive?” she asked slowly, her words dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t think that’s going to go the way you want. There’s that little thing where you work with my brother.”

  If she thought that was going to be the thing that changed his mind, then she didn’t know him at all. While she had been passed out for hours, he’d prepared for this very reaction. Already, he had a case of water in the closet, not to mention enough food to last them…not that he thought she was going to be eating much.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I disappeared,” he answered evenly.

  “What does that mean?” She snapped her fingers before he could answer. “Oh, right. You’re not going to tell me. And why is it so hot in here?”

  It probably wasn’t as hot as she thought it was, but he had turned down the air, and even taped up the cracks in the window to make sure they retained the most heat in the room as possible.

  “Whatever the fuck you’ve been taking—and I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you don’t know either—has to come out somehow.”

  “It’s not that serious, Luka. Okay, maybe I went a little overboard yesterday, but it’s not like I’m a junkie. And it sure doesn’t warrant this.”

  Abandoning his own plate, he crossed the room to her. “Yeah? So, tell me, who’s Snow?”

  Her eyes were glimmering, and he could see the moment when she thought of lying to him, but then thought better of it.

  “Just a guy I know.” She frowned. “Is that what this is about? You saw me with a guy and now you’re in your feelings about it?”

  “Did you fuck him?”

  She rolled her eyes at him, but her lack of an answer told him everything he needed to know.

  “You don’t know, do you?” He waited until he saw the confirmation in her eyes, a look that infuriated him. “That’s what my problem is. I let you have your space, but now you’ve got my undivided attention.”

  “The problem is,” she shot back. “I don’t want it.”

  He smiled, though it wasn’t friendly in the slightest. “Too late.”

  Gritting her teeth, she shook her hair back out of her face, staring up at him, trying to muster every last bit of courage that she had. “You can’t force me to stay here, Luka. You don’t own me.”

  “I’ll only say this shit once. You’re going to sit your ass down, and we’re going to figure this shit out. Because if we’re being honest, you only have three options.

  “One, you go out that window behind you. If we pretend that I didn’t nail it shut, then you could open it up and climb out, except we’re on the second floor and you’d more than likely break something in your pretty ass if you jumped out of it. Second, you go through me to break down the door, but I’ll warn you now babe, you’d have better luck at the window.”

  With the way he was speaking, the Russian inflections to his words were slipping away, and now she was hearing pieces of him that he had obviously carefully buried. “Third, you could use your phone, but…” He held it up, shaking it back and forth as her mouth dropped open, her hands automatically going to her body though she could quite clearly see he held it. “One problem with that scenario, your phone’s broke.”

  At that moment, he launched the phone across the room, sending it flying against the wall where the glass screen splintered. To make matters worse, he walked over to it, picking it up just to see if it was working before dropping it back down and sending his boot down on top of it.

  There was definitely no way she could use it now.

  “Have you completely lost your fucking mind, Luka!” She didn’t even bother trying to see if her phone was salvageable. She could tell from that distance that it wasn’t.

  Luka went back to his food, seeming calmer now than he had before. “Now that I have your attention, how about you sit, we eat, and then hash this shit out. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for this food to go to waste.”

  Seeing no other option for the time being, she did what he asked, at least partially, taking her seat on the mattress, but she faced away from him, using her fork to push the food around on her plate. She’d had worse odds, she thought. As long as she could wait out whatever he was going through, she could get back to her life and this would all be over.

  _____

  She was unequivocally, irrevocably fucked.

  At some point, she had fallen asleep, her food left abandoned on the floor beside her, but when she roused shortly after, and saw that Luka was still up, this time twirling a knife like it was an Olympic sport, she knew that she had underestimated him. It wasn’t that he was doing anything in particular, only that he was making it a point to stay in front of the door, and now, a slight pinch was in her gut that hadn’t been there before.

  Or at least she thought it hadn’t been there.

  Pushing herself off the floor, ignoring the way her arm shook, she asked, “What time is it?”

  “Nine.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Eight minutes, give or take a few seconds.”

  Irritated, she looked away from him, rubbing her arms. “Were you watching me sleep? You know, that’s not weird at all.”

  “You should go back to sleep. It might help your attitude.”

  “Or maybe you could let me out of this room! That would do wonders for my fucking attitude.”

  He flipped his knife closed, setting it on the floor beside him as he leaned that blond head of his back against the door. “Someone’s in a mood.”

  There was not an insult good enough to say to him as she headed for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, pushing in the lock on the knob. The door itself didn’t seem very sturdy, and if sh
e had to guess, he’d probably be able to kick it in if he wanted, but for the moment, she let the allusion of privacy soothe her nerves.

  Using the bathroom, she washed her hands after, staring at her reflection in the mirror—a habit for her nowadays, it seemed—and tried to get herself together. This was just a game, some twisted attempt to get under her skin. Soon, he would grow bored and let her out, if only so he could get back to his weekly rituals with Natasha.

  That thought both made her feel better and annoyed her.

  Refusing to stay hidden away, she rejoined him, but only after she grabbed the mattress and pulled it across the floor to the opposite side of where he was sitting.

  If he was serious about doing this…

  She glanced over in his direction, noting the way he didn’t look bothered in the slightest.

  This was going to be a long night.

  ____

  Pacing the floor, Alex tried to remember what she had ever liked about Luka. Ever.

  He was happily laying on his back, watching her every move as though he knew that she was slowly starting to crack. The urge to take her mind off this ridiculous situation rode her hard, and that familiar pinch in her gut only made it worse.

  And that, coupled with the way Luka was so easily unaffected, only made her angrier.

  When she looked at him again, he smirked. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

  She was going to get the hell out of there, no matter what he said.

  ____

  Her breakdown came slow and steady, another piece of her chipping off and drifting away. She’d tried to hold on for as long as she could, tried to prove that she was in control of what she’d been doing, but as he watched, he watched her spiral in a way that made his chest ache.

  But even still, she didn’t admit that she needed help.

  Luka stuck to his side of the room, giving her as much space as she could want. He leaned his head back against the wall, his arms resting on his upraised knees.

  At first, she had been lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for long minutes, his lips moving soundlessly as she counted the lines spiraling out. Then, she got to her feet, pretending to explore what little there was in his room, lingering in the closet where his clothes were mostly hanging, some in piles on the floor. The bathroom was next, then peering out the window though there was hardly anything to see since his bedroom was in the back of the house, and when she had exhausted all of her options, she returned to the bed, dropping down onto it in a huff.

  Hours passed this way, and only when she passed out once more did he leave the room and head for the kitchen, grabbing something for her to eat, having forgotten it earlier. Two cases of bottled water and enough supplies to last them a couple of days, he was ready for the long haul, even if she wasn’t.

  It was only when restlessness turned to annoyance, and annoyance turned to desperation did things really start to change, and it was only when she was at the very edge did Alex actually show any vulnerability. He had been waiting on this, the moment when it would start becoming too much for her. For a while, Luka had thought he could handle this, having always thought that she appeared so strong.

  But despite what he felt for her, no matter how strongly those feelings were, he forced them to the back of his mind, willing himself to do what needed to be done. He knew what needed to be done. Even if it hurt her, he had to do what he had to do.

  No one knew the burden he carried, nor how easy it was for him to turn that moral compass of his off so he could do what others couldn’t. He was willing to hurt her if that meant to help her.

  Luka didn’t think he had ever seen her so expressive, everything she was feeling and thinking there for him to see all over her face. That careful mask she kept in place was gone now. He knew better than anyone the toll it took to keep everything bottled inside, suffering silently so as not to burden others with the pain, but now he wanted her pain. He wanted to take that from her.

  He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t really deserve nice things, but she did. And he wanted her to be happy. To be free.

  But he had yet to get to the heart of the issue. So many things could weigh on her, especially in the lives they led. He just wanted her to confess it to him, if to no one else.

  “Alex…”

  When he said her name, she flinched, her eyes squeezing shut. Like it was a physical blow that wounded her.

  “I just need to get out of here,” she whispered, more to herself than him. That desperation, tinged with a little bit of anger, was back. “Please…Luka, I just need to go.”

  He would have given her the world if she’d asked for it, but this…this, he couldn’t. So many answers came to him, variations on how to let her down gently, but she didn’t need that right now.

  “No.”

  She didn’t want that answer, making her jump to her feet in a flurry of motion. Completely ignoring him, she walked toward the door and reached for the handle, but he was faster, intercepting her. Even if she had wanted to, he’d switched the locks on the bedroom door where it locked from the inside, and he had the key safely tucked away in his pocket.

  When he reached for her, she lurched back, and he could see the exact moment when the anger was taking over, could sense the fight rising in her. But that was good because at least then he knew the Alex he used to know and care for was in there somewhere.

  She made a move to get around him, but he blocked her again, this time reaching to steady her when she stumbled a bit. That was the catalyst. The moment he touched her, innocent enough as he captured her wrists when she was falling backward, she jerked free of his hold and swung.

  He allowed the first hit, her open palm connecting against his face, enough that he felt the sting when she pulled away to do it again, but no matter how many times she hit him, it didn’t seem to be enough.

  The more she tried to fight him, trying to forcibly remove him, the more she grew agitated, vocalizing her frustrations. No matter how he held her, or at least tried to grab her, she still found a way to hit him, her knee coming up so fast that he had barely blocked it.

  “Alex, for fuck’s sake! Calm down!”

  She shoved away from him and he let her. In that short span of time, she had hit him more than he’d ever allowed anyone to, but he hadn’t felt the slightest urge to hurt her in return.

  “Fuck you! I don’t need your help. I don’t even want it. When did you start giving a shit anyway? I’m sure your prostitute is waiting for you somewhere.”

  He didn’t know what it was about that little speech that pissed him off. He’d been doing a good job of keeping a leash on his temper up until that point, but then he just snapped.

  Her eyes widened as she took a step back, but even in the height of his anger, he would never hurt her.

  Luka’s arm snapped forward, his thumb on one side of her neck, his fingers on the other, and he pulled her forward, with a small amount of force. She tried to look down, away from his probing gaze, but he wasn’t allowing that.

  “Look. At. Me.”

  He could tell that she wanted kindness, someone to take the pain away as the drugs had done for the short amount of time she had been using them—at least this go round he had learned—but Luka couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t pretend like he didn’t know that she was slowly killing herself. And he knew, at least he thought he knew, what was eating at her the most, and the only way she could heal from it was if she finally faced it instead of trying to run away. Even if this whole process was going to be grueling, she was going to have to face it, except she wouldn’t be alone.

  She had jolted at his words, and he immediately softened his tone. “Look at me.”

  When she finally did, her eyes watering, tears ready to slip over, he knew the worst of her anger had bled away at the face of his, but he didn’t doubt for a second that it would be back.

  As soon as he felt like he had her complete and undivided attention, he said the words that were burnin
g to get out of him. “It’s going to hurt. You’re going to hate me.” His grip was still firm on her. “It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

  He was tempted, tempted to tell her how he really felt, but it wasn’t time for that, not yet.

  ____

  Over the last hour, she had quieted, besides the constant movement that put Luka on edge. He was nervous, not sure what she was capable of in her current state. He didn’t want to hurt her, even as that was exactly what he was currently doing, but as of yet, the need for him to restrain her hadn’t come.

  Loki had come around the door, whining, trying to get his paw beneath the door as though that would help him get it open, but had given up soon after, dropping his weight onto the floor as he laid there.

  An observer by nature, Luka had merely watched her as she was lost in her own mind, wondering what she was thinking about that made her oblivious to him. He had wondered, for some time, which part of her fucked-up life was the reason for this recent descent into drugs. He hadn’t minded the alcohol, not really. Everyone had their vices, but whether she wanted him to or not, he’d needed to step in and fix the problem. She might not have thought it had taken over her life, but addicts rarely did.

  If he had to guess, then this had something to do with Anya. Mikhail had been gone too long for him to be a factor, not to mention the fact that she rarely brought him up. That wasn’t to say that the way he treated her hadn’t played a part in her misery, but that hadn’t gotten under her skin the way Anya had. There was something there that Luka didn’t know about, and probably had something to do with the day that Alex had gone over to meet with her and ultimately had killed her.

  She lived amongst people who killed without remorse, it was just their way of life, but up until that night, Alex had remained untouched by the brutality of the Bratva life. Luka saw plenty of faces when he closed his eyes at night, more than a dozen at least, but he knew there was only one that plagued her. Unlike the men he’d put in the ground, she’d had a relationship with Anya. It didn’t matter that he might have thought Anya was a bitch, had even thought about silencing her so Mishca wouldn’t have to, but she had still been Alex’s mother.