Kaznachei’s Pain

by Mason, V. F.

Including him.

  In that moment, I didn't allow myself to feel the despair rushing through me or focus on the information that Melissa was dead because of me. I couldn't do that.

  I had to avenge her death first and make sure our boy lived in a world where the evils of my past didn't exist anymore.

  So no one could take him from me, from the safety we fought so hard to create for him.

  Then both of us would find solace in each other because the only woman who loved us more than life itself was taken away from us.

  I removed the cross from my neck and handed it to Pakhan, and my friends cursed. “I’m going rogue.” And with that, I formed a plan to end it once and for all.

  Jaxon

  Pacing back and forth on the plane, I thought about the codes that were securely in Yuri’s hands.

  The information there would forever destroy my life, bringing so much chaos I wasn’t sure I’d be able to protect my family from it.

  Yuri left me no choice but to tell them the truth, however devastating it might be.

  The phone rang loudly in the plane and my brother, Killian, gave it to me as he came from the pilot cabin. I picked it up on the fifth ring.

  “How important is that information?”

  My brows rose at hearing Dominic Konstantinov’s voice, but I replied firmly, “That’s between Yuri and me.” I didn’t conduct business with the Russian pakhan, so I had no obligation to tell him shit.

  I answered to no one.

  “Cut the attitude, MacAlister,” he snapped, and I heard a loud crash. “Yuri just went rogue.”

  I stilled, clearing my throat. “He did what?” If one ever went rogue, it meant he didn’t have the support of the brotherhood and fought all his battles alone; no one had the responsibility to protect him or help him out. In fact, it was as if he never existed for the brotherhood. It rarely happened, because in most cases, whoever wanted an out got killed. But when it did happen… it meant the person wouldn’t live for long, as too many enemies wanted to strike at him and no one could demand blood for it, because he would no longer be part of the brotherhood.

  Son of a bitch!

  “Yeah, and news travels fast. If Kuzmin gets wind of it, Yuri is dead!” Dominic barked. “So how important are the codes and where would he keep them?”

  “Why did he do it?” I’d invited Yuri to my brotherhood when shit with Angus, the daddy dearest, settled, and by that, I meant he was fucking under the ground and rotting in hell. I wanted Yuri so he could be my right hand, as I trusted no one more than him. But he refused, claiming he’d never leave his best friends, because they were family.

  Had he lost his fucking mind?

  But then something dawned on me, and I asked carefully, dreading Dominic’s reply, because I had a feeling my intuition wasn’t failing me. “Melissa and their child?”

  Silence, and then, “She’s dead. Their son is in ICU, very minimal chance of surviving.”

  God, I didn’t even know what to say except one thing. “He won’t stop.”

  “I’m aware. I won’t give up on him, and fuck what he said. He is part of the Bratva. Where do you think he would go?”

  Gazing at the white, fluffy clouds illuminated in the night by the moon, I racked my brain for the locations the stupid asshole would go to in order to taunt his son. Although he operated in Poland, mostly in Krakow, he liked to kiss ass in Russia.

  Where was his favorite location?

  “Irkutsk,” I muttered, and Dominic cursed on the other end of the line, shouting to someone. “Vitya, get the plane ready.” And then he moved back to our conversation. “Do you remember any specific place?”

  “It was a mansion. Endless amounts of land.” He stayed silent, clearly thinking of the place while I dug my memory for more details and then clicked my fingers. “We passed some kind of statue on the way, some national park.”

  “Fuck,” he said. “I know where it is. A Siberian Brigadier owned a place there, but we didn’t have time to go there and confiscate anything.” Yeah, I’d heard of the situation that happened two months ago. “Hold on.” He spoke in Russian with someone again, and shouted this time in English. “What?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “He took the Bratva plane. I won’t get to him in time. Jaxon—”

  “On it. Come as soon as you can.” I hung up on him and rushed to the cabin, praying Yuri wouldn’t do anything stupid in the meantime.

  Irkutsk, Siberia

  Yuri

  The night provided cover as I ran soundlessly through the garden. When I arrived in the backyard, I pressed my back to the brick mansion as I watched two guards laughing about something on a phone. One spoke to the other. “Have you seen her tits? I wonder if the boss will allow us to play with her once he is done.”

  Father apparently hadn’t changed his spots through the years. He gathered countless numbers of destroyed souls from the streets and didn’t consider them humans, only a product to sell and play with.

  I took out my gun with its silencer and shot them both quickly. I turned off their radio while clicking in my phone so the cameras would show the same picture that had been present five minutes ago.

  Thank God for Mirella, aka Honey, and her willingness to help me in this as she operated from Italy.

  The fucking mansion hadn’t changed one bit. The building spread horizontally, hiding behind the forest, the steel walls along the borders separating it from the outside world. The house had two levels with fifteen rooms, each one designed for the various desires he and his clients indulged in. The basement served as the caged prison for those they acquired. The sick part was they were kept like animals, in torn and dirty clothes, and not allowed to eat or shower, because the biggest high for the clients was to sleep with someone from the streets.

  In any other circumstances, revulsion would have crawled over my skin, but I felt nothing.

  Melissa was dead, and as such, nothing in this world evoked any kind of emotion except the gnawing fury to kill my father once and for all.

  I pressed one of their hands to the terrace door, and it slid open, allowing me to enter, and I fired the gun at anyone who stood in my way.

  I moved through the kitchen to the hall, assessing my environment and not finding a threat anywhere as I walked to the living room lit by a crystal chandelier. The man lounged in an oversized chair, sipping whiskey as he greeted me with a smile.

  “Adam,” he called, and hatred unlike anything I’d ever experienced washed over me, reminding me once again how much I despised the fucking name that brought nothing but sorrow.

  “Where is she?” I pointed the gun right at his forehead, demanding once again, “Where is she?” I wouldn’t leave her with him, dead or alive.

  She was mine in life and in death.

  His brows rose, and I saw surprise flash in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up with boredom and satisfaction. “Dead. Buried her body right there.” He motioned outside to the orchid garden he had kept in place all these years. “Want to say a eulogy?” he asked, and I walked toward him then punched him in the face. He just laughed and laughed as blood splashed in different directions from his broken nose.

  I grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and shook him as hard as I could, shouting, “Where is she?’

  Nothing but pride shone on his face, and he didn’t even wince at the pain that probably drove him insane. “That’s my son. That’s the heir meant to rule my empire. What a magnificent sight you are,” he said in awe, but then a sinister expression crossed his features. He patted my hands, and instantly repulsion prickled me like a bolt of lightning. “But you chose the Russian brotherhood and betrayed me. I’ll never forgive that.”

  As my brows furrowed, he leaned back and clicked his fingers, and that was when I heard heavy footsteps behind me, along with the safety being removed from several guns. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know you’d come here?” he asked, smirking. “You are too smart for your own good. You came h
ere and gave me exactly what I wanted.”

  “You think I’m afraid of you?” I questioned, barely holding back a chuckle as I contemplated my father’s stupidity. “You took her from me.”

  “I did,” he agreed. “And it was worth it for the punishment it has served you.”

  I pressed the weapon against his temple, spitting, “Where is she? Exactly?” I didn’t give a fuck about anything else but that. My life had no value or meaning to it.

  I couldn’t act rationally or be smart in that moment as hatred and fury clouded my judgment, blocking out everything else. “Don’t worry; you’ll be reunited with her soon. I need the codes.”

  “You won’t get them.” He took out his phone, pressing on the live stream camera, and my heart stilled. It showed a man in blue scrubs looming over the baby’s incubator as he nodded to the camera. “Right now, my man is with my grandson dearest. Now, I thought he’d die back in the warehouse, but since he still lives, he’s upped his position with me. Maybe I’ll take your son to be my heir,” he mused, and I pushed my arm back to punch him again, but he wiggled his finger. “Now, now, Adam. Let’s not be rash. Choose. Your life, or your son’s.”

  Watching the man in the video, I could see the knife and gun located in the loops of his pants, as well as the completely blank expression while he waited for the command. My father’s men were nothing but fuckers who listened to his every command blindly; sometimes I didn’t even think they were humans.

  Remorse or morals didn’t exist in their vocabulary.

  Deep down, I knew Dominic would never leave my son alone without protection, but even a minute could cost his life with my father’s craziness.

  I couldn’t risk it, no matter how much I wanted to kill Jaroslaw on the fucking spot.

  So, with submission that brought nothing but repulsion to me, I stepped back and dropped the gun to the floor.

  His men immediately grabbed me and tied my hands behind my back, all while Father gazed at us happily. “Finally, we come to the conclusion of this game.”

  * * *

  “How do you like it?” Jaroslaw asked, gesturing to the basement as I sat in the middle of the cage, my body pinned to the metal chair with leather straps. I couldn’t move a muscle. “Although nothing has changed since you were here last time,” he mused, sighing heavily, and my hands clenched into fists just remembering it.

  Please, don’t.

  Adam, get on your fucking knees. If you don’t know how to please my clients, I’m going to teach you. Useless piece of shit, just like your mother.

  With years, I’d learned to block his voice out, but whenever I killed someone, it came crashing back at me, reminding me I ended up doing bad stuff, just like him.

  Although, I’d imagine his sins were far greater than mine: I’d never taken an innocent or destroy anyone’s childhood.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath for my sentiments, if I were you,” I replied, with nothing but boredom lacing my voice.

  I noticed traces of barely controlled anger flashing in his eyes as he leaned closer and raised the knife, glistening in the light. I held his stare as he stabbed me right in the liver, and I swallowed the groan threatening to slip past my lips. Sharp pain spread through me, demanding an outlet for emotions, but I gave none.

  I’d learned in early childhood, screams only fueled his sadistic tendencies. “Vasya trained you well. Not an ounce of suffering on your face.” He walked away, leaving the knife in my gut, clearly not wanting me to bleed to death yet, and stepped to his weapon table to pick up a gun. Then he came back again while his bodyguard stood outside the cage, ready for any command.

  However, I’d seen fear in them whenever Jaroslaw dished out punishments. He’d already used electroshocks and matches to leave burns as he demanded the codes from me. “End this suffering, Adam, and give me the codes. I might not kill you, but I can still do it to Artur.”

  “Don’t say his name.” My son’s name didn’t deserve to be uttered by this piece of shit.

  He shrugged and fired a bullet into my leg. I inhaled deeply, fixating on anything but the wound. The fucker aimed for my calf muscle, making it impossible to run in case I freed myself. Then he barked, “Jakub, come here.” The beefy man followed the command, and then he pointed at the table. “Put the towel over his face and pick up the gallon of water.”

  Ah, here comes his most favorite torture.

  Without waiting, the man threw my head back, covered my face with the towel, and locked me in a tight hold as another of his men poured the water on me. I had just a split second to gulp breaths before I choked on the water.

  The hot substance burned my neck and skin, and my eyes watered. Then I felt pressure on my leg wound and fisted my hands harder.

  No sounds, no surrender, no pain.

  I repeated the old mantra that helped me survive the worst nightmares and focused on the mission, which was to keep the people I loved safe.

  Finally, it stopped, and he snatched the cloth away from me, leaving the water to drip down my face and onto the floor, mixing with my blood. “Codes, Adam, and it will end. You can join Melissa then.” Despite the agony my body experienced, I pulled at my restraints, trying to get to him, but he shook his head. “Poor thing begged me before she died. Can you believe it? Asked me not to kill your baby.” He placed his hand on his chest, sighing dramatically. “My heart almost broke.” Then he put the gun under my chin, and spat, “The codes. I know you keep everything in this fucking photographic memory of yours. Give them to me, and I give you my word that no one will touch your son.”

  A bitter laugh echoed through the space as I barely restrained the desire to spit in his face one more time. “Your word means nothing.” And then I leaned closer, meeting him head on and not backing down from the challenge. “Go ahead. Call your man. Check if he is alive.”

  His brow furrowed, some of the confidence leaving him as he dialed the number and waited for a reply. He put it on loudspeaker, and it rang, and rang, and rang.

  Until someone picked up. “Janek, what’s going on, you idiot?” he shouted, but the voice that replied wasn’t that of Janek.

  My mouth spread in a smile as Konstanciya said, “Yeah, he’s dead. But he said hello before I killed him, if it’s any consolation.”

  Jaroslaw looked at the phone as if he wanted to destroy the thing and hung up, but not before she added our motto. “Fuck with whoever you want, but don’t fuck with the Bratva.”

  The brotherhood I so despised stood by me even when I went rogue, going against every order impressed on us since the time we were recruits.

  Jaroslaw roared and then punched me with all his might, but my fist caught his, and he blinked in shock as I said, “Surprise,” and stabbed him with my pocketknife, sending him stumbling back. I grabbed the man by my side and broke his neck, and then did the same with the other, and they tumbled to the floor.

  “Okay, boys. Lesson number one, always have a knife hidden in your sleeve. You never know when you might need to get out. It’s always a weapon,” Vasya ordered, gifting each recruit with their first weapon, and everyone nodded, while I hated it.

  But rules were rules, and I had to follow.

  I quickly tore the things holding my legs and stood up. I knew adrenaline was fueling my body so I wouldn’t feel any pain.

  I didn’t have any time to waste.

  Snatching the gun from him, I wrapped my hands around his throat while pressing the gun against his temple, demanding, “Where is Melissa?”

  He stayed silent, turning blue from my squeeze, so I lightened it a bit, enough for him to say, “Dead.”

  I repeated the action again, ordering, “Where?”

  I wouldn’t allow her to be buried like a piece of trash that belonged to no one. Dead or alive, my woman was mine, and he wasn’t getting her.

  No one was getting her.

  I let him breathe again, and he whispered, “You have no idea what’s going on. I will destroy you and Jaxon, even if
I’m dead.” And when foam formed in his mouth and his eyes rolled back, I screamed, “No!” Noticing the open ring on him, I guessed he’d drunk the poison. “You fucker, where is she?” I shook him, but it was impossible. I let go as fire alarms went off throughout the space and heavy thudding echoed upstairs.

  Pain struck me like lightning as I inhaled, and I was able to breathe. I swayed to the side, plastering my hands on the floor.

  The wounds started to make themselves known. My vision blurred for a second, but I squeezed all the agony into my fist and got up, limping toward the door. Despite my best efforts, I fell down on the way, gasping for breath.

  Fuck, after all these years, I couldn’t die here with this fucker.

  I tried again, but failed and landed on my back, holding onto the knife as my body oozed more and more blood. Then heavy footsteps echoed in the distance and several men barged inside, muttering, “He killed Jaroslaw.” And they loomed over me, each one of them holding guns.

  However, something was different about the tattoos on their wrists. Father only had one mark for his men and always in the same place. These weren’t them.

  I’d seen this before though, but I couldn’t think of fucking where?

  One of them kicked me in the face, and everything went dark.

  * * *

  My eyes snapped open as I groaned in pain, but immediately my nose twitched at the smell surrounding me, and heat.

  So much fucking heat. I couldn’t breathe through this for long, and it took me a split second to recognize fire.

  I lay in the living room of the house as orange flames swallowed everything from curtains to carpets, and not too slowly came my way.

  My attempt at getting up brought no results, so, with my head throbbing, I crawled to the hall, hoping to get to the door, but the fire spread so rapidly I couldn’t even see properly, let alone move like this.

  “Dying this way after all these years,” I said, and looked up, screaming. “I can’t do this!” I had to get the fuck out of here alive.