by K. J. Dahlen
Felix shifted in his chair. “My dear, we didn’t come here to cause you pain. This situation affects us all, not only you.”
“We spoke to Leon last night,” Sergi interjected. Shaking his head he said, “That man is totally out of his mind. He thought to restore Russia by invoking an act of war. He was going to challenge the present government by rights of his relationship to Nikolas. He was going to raise an army and lead them to war.”
“He actually thought he would have the people behind him.” Felix swore under his breath. “His mind was stuffed so far in the past, he doesn’t have a clue.”
“It’s been so many years since Leon even visited Russia that he has no clue as to what’s going on there anymore.” Rizvan shook his head. “The people are struggling to live day to day but they have no desire to be under anyone’s rule. Things have improved a lot though. Most are doing better than they have in years. The people no longer will tolerate anyone telling them how to act or what to believe anymore.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” she asked.
“Even the Bratva has a Counsel. We don’t just kill anyone who pisses us off anymore,” Felix told her gently. “We are not animals. We are a sophisticated organization and we have rules we live by.” He took a breath and continued, “We will take him back and let the Cousin deal with him. They will judge him fairly.”
“What about the other matter?” She licked her dry lips.
Felix studied her for a moment. “We read your grandmother’s journals.”
“And?”
Sergi exchanged a look with Felix. “And what? What do you want us to say?”
“Was my grandfather Nikolas’s son?”
“Yes child, he was,” Rizvan told her gently. “Your great grandmother’s journals told us what happened all that time ago. She spoke of how Nikolas knew he and his family were going to die and that he wanted at least a little piece of him to live on. She knew he loved his Tzarina, so there was never any feelings of love between them. What they shared was but a moment of lust and when it was over and she found herself with child he made sure she was able to escape. He gave her the ring to give to his son in remembrance of his father and what could have been. Nothing more.”
Talli nodded. “I remember grandpa vaguely. He died when I was young but what I remember there was something he was sad about. He’d get a look in his eyes at times when he felt the whole world was on his shoulders.”
“There was something else in that crate,” Sergi told her. “Two of the books in there belonged to your grandfather and your father. They wanted a written account of how they felt about the news. Both men were stunned to learn their history but they understood what your great grandmother did. They were proud of their history even if they couldn’t tell anyone about it. Inside one of the books was your grandfather’s birth certificate. It listed Nicolas Romanov as his true father.”
“Your father did write something in his book after he first met with Leon,” Rizvan told her. “He was concerned about what Leon was going to do and he prayed that someone would stop him before he cost any lives. He wrote that he wanted nothing to do with Leon’s insane plan and that he told him that. He said Leon was enraged and Christophe was worried about that. He said he was going to engage extra security for you and your mother but I think before he could do that, Leon returned and murdered him.”
“So now what is going to happen?” she asked them. “What do I do with this information?”
“What do you want to do with it?” Felix asked.
“Seriously? Nothing. There is nothing to do about it.” Shrugging she went on, “This is the past, and should remain the past. I know more about my family now but that’s all.”
“What are you going to do with the ring?” Rizvan wanted to know.
Letting out a deep breath she said, “I suppose I’ll have to fix up the damage Leon did to my parents’ house and leave it in the safe. It’s the only place I feel it would be safe.”
“I have an idea,” Barshan spoke. “Let’s move the safe to another location. We can build our own home and move it there. That way you aren’t surrounded by memories from your past. Knowing that your parents were murdered isn’t something you should live with every day. Make a complete new beginning.”
“You would do that for me?” Tears welled in her eyes.
Barshan slipped from his chair and knelt beside her chair. “I would do that and more for you.”
“I do hope you will reopen your shop,” Felix told her. “Your talent is something the world needs. It is beauty and grace unsurpassed.” Chuckling he admitted, “My wife loves your jewelry, and she would kill me if I didn’t urge you to rebuild.”
Talli gave him a slight bow of her head in acknowledgement. “I hope to reopen but I have a lot of work to do to get it up and going again.”
“But now you’ll have a rather large family to help you rebuild,” Yuri put out there. “With no strings.”
“Your shop could be neutral territory,” Felix assured her.
“I can live with that.” Talli smiled.
“So be it.” Felix reached out his hand to Sergi and as they shook, they made the pact.
Just then, Raven appeared in the doorway. One hand held her belly and she had fear in her eyes. “Yuri, I think it’s time. My water just broke.”
Yuri, Sergi and the rest of the men got to their feet. It only took moments for the suite to empty. Yuri swept his small wife up into his arms and rushed her out the door.
Barshan and Talli just stood there for a moment.
Barshan smiled at her. “Shall we go and watch as the next generation arrives?” He held out his elbow and she wrapped her hand around his arm. Together, they left the suite and closed the door quietly behind them.
Early the next morning, even before the dawn broke, the world welcomed Dominic Yuri Anatoly and to everyone’s surprise, Caitlyn Emily Anatoly. All three, mother and babies did just fine.
LOOK FOR BOOK FOUR COMING SOON
SAZON, Bratva Blood Brother Series
An Extra Bonus Book
(Never Before Released to the Public)
Healing Charlie
K.J. Dahlen
Chapter One
Bull groaned as the hot water ran down his back and shoulders. The pink coloring washed down the drain as the water washed the dried blood and old sweat away. His whole body hurt tonight. Maybe he was getting too old for this shit but he didn’t consider thirty four old. The cage hadn’t been good for him today but he won his match. He put his opponent down after a long three round battle. Sonny “Blaze” Cormac had been knocked out in the third round. He’d gotten some good hits in but it’d been a bloody battle for both of them.
Bull ran his fingers over his face and grimaced when he touched his own swollen and torn flesh. His left eye and cheek were still puffy and bruised but the swelling was going down. He might be able to see out of his eye by morning if he put ice on it tonight. When his fingers rubbed his jaw, he winced again. He’d taken a nasty blow that almost put him down but he’d delivered the knockout punch before his opponent could get the better of him.
When he left the arena just after the fight, he was still running high on adrenalin, so he hadn’t hurt this much until now. Bull shook his head when he thought about the last few years and how he ended up here of all places. The day he’d seen his friends die in a staged ambush so many miles from home, a rage had been born within him and when he was discharged from the military hospital, the rage had finally won. Fighting had given him a place to use that rage and he felt a balance in his life again. He knew it wouldn’t last forever but for now, he needed this balance. He was taking it one day at a time until he could finally breathe again. He was getting closer to that day.
He’d stopped in this little town on a whim. It was close enough to the bigger cities he needed access to, but still a small enough town nobody would notice him. Four years ago, he hadn’t wanted to be noticed by anyone. He felt safe enough u
ntil the time came when he wanted them to notice him. Here, nobody watched for him, hell nobody here even knew his real name except Smokey, his boss and right now that was fine with him. Here he was just Bull. Here, nobody knew that he was Bennett Seeger, Special Forces with sniper training. Nobody cared that he was once a part of something bigger.
Smokey Langer had been his ticket in the world of caged fighting and had given him a key to the gym when he began fighting a year ago. He’d been wounded in action and had spent a year in hospital before he got out. Then he needed his space to figure out where he wanted to go from there. He’d used those three years to get back into shape in that gym and build his body back up to where it should have been.
He had his lean, mean fighting body back but this body was more muscled and more agile than his old body had been. He had real fighting skills now and his martial arts training had also improved greatly. He was now a black belt in many forms of the martial arts. He’d learned from the best teachers not only in Texas but also in Louisiana. He didn’t compete but he knew what he was doing.
He grabbed the soap and ran it over his massive arms without thinking about the scars or the Special Forces Tattoo he wore on his shoulder. He couldn’t look at it now though. His last mission had taken that away from him. He still raged about that fuck up.
Looking down at his chest, he saw the names under the grave marker he had tattooed there. Pony and Blue Baby, both men hadn’t come back with the rest of the Brava Victor Unit that day four years ago.
Instead of thinking about the past, Bull continued to soap his aching body. He hissed as the soap ran over the multitude of bruises on his chest and belly. Blaze had been vicious but Bull gave back everything he got and more.
Even with blood running down from the cut over his left eye, he still delivered the blow that put Blaze down. Bull smiled as he remembered the look on Blaze’s face when he realized he was done. Blaze had been too cocky from the moment they’d stepped into the cage and the last expression Bull had seen on his face was surprise then disbelief as the other man’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body hit the mat.
Now, he groaned as his hand hit yet another sore spot on his face. His eye ached and when he raised his hand to touch it he hissed again when his fingers touched his swollen eye socket and cheekbone.
Ducking his head under the hot spray of water, he rinsed his body off and shut off the water. Bull stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed a towel. Drying off his body, he reached inside his duffle for clean clothes. Pulling his clothes on over damp skin left him worn out. All he wanted now was a stiff drink and a soft bed.
Throwing his towel in the hamper, he shut off the lights behind him as his footsteps echoed in the empty gym as he made his way to the back door. As he opened the door, he felt the blast of hot air. Texas in August was the pits. It was so damn hot, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. It literally took his breath away as he checked out the parking lot before taking a step out of the cover of the building. Old habits died hard and he had to shake his head when he thought about why he was checking the surrounding area for enemies. For a moment, he forgot he wasn’t in the military anymore. And this was home, not some random desert where everyone had a gun and was looking to kill their enemies.
Bull growled and made his way to his truck. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of the tail lights of a truck leaving the lot. He frowned as he turned his head and watched the vehicle drive away in the early evening light. The vehicle didn’t have any lights on until it was well away from the parking lot. He stared at the vehicle as it turned the corner and disappeared from sight. This time, he checked out the parking lot a little better, his eyes darting everywhere while his brain registered everything he was searching in an instant but found nothing out of the ordinary. After all, the military had spent a lot of money and trained him well to do just that.
Then just as he was going to get into his truck, he heard loud music coming down the street. He turned and watched as a low slung vehicle drove down the street very slowly. He eyeballed the vehicle and kept his eyes on it as it drove past where he was standing. The loud rock music hurt his ears but the four people sitting inside the car didn’t seem to mind it.
Even as beastly hot as it was, all four young men in the vehicle were wearing heavy denim jackets. Bull didn’t show any sign of acknowledgement at all.
One person sitting in the backseat even raised a weapon and waved it at him.
Bull stared him down and the guy flipped him off. He didn’t return the gesture but he did follow their progress down the street. They drove off slowly and it made Bull think they were looking for someone or something. He couldn’t imagine what that could be but he wasn’t taking any chances either. If the vehicle held street gang members, it was best to not show disrespect of any kind. If you did, they would kill you where you stood without batting an eye. Bull didn’t feel like dying tonight.
To his mind, their colors reminded him of a gang he knew called the River Ratz. He didn’t know why they were here in Mount Pleasant though. They usually hung out on or near the Red River and that was closer to Texarkana than here. They were like a secret everyone knew about but never spoke of.
Finally, the car turned the corner and the music died down. He could now get into his truck and leave the gym. He watched the area carefully as he made his way home. He was almost there when something hit his back window softly. At first, he didn’t know if he only imagined the sound or not, so when he pulled up to a red light he glanced at the back window.
Then his eyes went wide at the faint red streaks trailing down the window glass. He looked around the empty streets and pulled over into a Whataburger parking lot. Moving around the back of the building, he pulled to a stop. Grabbing the handgun under the seat and a flashlight, he got out of the truck slowly. Carefully, he moved to the back of the truck and with a flashlight, he checked out the bed.
At first, he saw nothing out of the ordinary but the light caught the movement and when he swung the light toward the movement, he’d seen just a moment ago. He gasped when he saw the movement had been a foot inside a tennis shoe. Swinging the first even higher, he saw the foot become a leg and the leg became a body. The fall of black hair prevented him from seeing her face but that wasn’t concerned him. What concerned him was the dark red stain covering most of her shirt.
Bull swore and reached inside the bed of his truck and hauled her into his arms. Moving around to the passenger side, he stuffed her into the seat then rushed around to the driver’s seat. Putting the truck in motion, he raced toward his place. Half a block from his house, he pressed the button for his remote and as he pulled into his garage, the heavy double door to the garage opened. As soon as he shut the engine off, he pressed the button again and the door closed slowly behind him.
Bull raced around the truck and opened the truck door, carefully taking her out of the seat, he rushed to the door leading to the house. Pushing the door open, he made his way through the kitchen and into the living room.
Laying the girl carefully on the sofa, he brushed her hair away from her face. Wincing, he took in the bruised and swollen flesh of her face. Someone had beaten her badly. Her left eye was swollen and black with a matching bruise along her jawline. Her hair was matted with dried blood and she had black and blue marks resembling long, slim fingers bruising her throat.
With her eyes closed, he couldn’t see her eyes but he needed to find out where the blood on her shirt was coming from. He laid her out flat on the sofa and that’s when he noticed the dried blood on her throat.
Bull hissed and got to his feet. Going to the kitchen, he grabbed a bowl of warm water and a couple of washcloths. Going back to the girl on the sofa, he began to bath her neck to clean off the dried blood. He needed to see how bad the wound on her throat was before he could determine the next step.
As he washed away the blood, the wound across her neck became clear. Someone had tried to slice her throat. The cut was loca
ted high on her throat and whoever did it completely or deliberately missed the arteries on either side. Bull laid his fingers on the arteries and could feel the weak pulse and he thanked the lord she was still alive. From the amount of dried blood, the wound have bled too much.
The cut itself looked shallow enough but the blood had soaked her neck and shirt. He didn’t know what other kind of damage it had done to her throat or even if she would survive the cut. But he did know he couldn’t take her to the hospital. He had a feeling there was more going on here than he knew at the moment. His training told him this was something bigger that the local cops would know about.
Then he remembered the slow driving, low riding car traveling down the street with the four thugs inside wearing gang colors. If they belonged to the River Ratz gang in Texarkana, what were they here in Mount Pleasant for? Gazing at the young girl on his sofa, he wondered what her connection to them was and how the hell she ended up in the back of his truck.
He got up and went over to his front windows. Glancing out over the front of his yard out into the street, he noticed everything was quiet. This neighborhood was not the best but it wasn’t the worst either. Families lived and worked here. Small children played on these streets. If there was trouble coming, he didn’t want to bring it to his front door. Glancing back at the girl on his sofa, he pulled his blinds shut and went back to her.
Her breathing was still shallow but it didn’t seem as labored as it had been. Fresh blood seeped from the wound but it wasn’t gushing, so Bull folded gauze pads in half and wrapped them around her neck with more gauze.
When that was finished, he took the time to clean the rest of her. Washing her face and hands of the grime and dirt that covered her gently, he uncovered more bruises and small cuts. Then he reached for a pair of scissors and cut her soiled t-shirt away. The shirt was drenched in dried blood and grime and when it opened, he could see her pale skin. Her breasts were covered by a black bra but they overflowed its boundaries. Her breasts were full and perky but it wasn’t her breasts that drew his attention, not fully. What drew his attention was the black bruise on her chest.