by Cole, Jagger
Then I snag a pair of sunglasses, pull the tags off, and slip them on. I step out of the aisle and try and breathe as evenly as I can. I walk towards the door, the canvas bag over one shoulder, clutched in an iron grip.
“Thanks for shopping,” the clerk murmurs without even turning.
“Thanks, I’ll be back later with my husband.”
“Yep.”
I slip out the door. It takes everything I have not to run to the truck. But once I’m in, I’m shaking the whole drive back to the lake house; my heart racing.
Lev is outside on the porch when I drive up. He sees the pale look on my face when I step out of the truck though, and he quickly strides over.
“Is everything okay?”
“Well,” I sigh. “I’m a criminal now.”
He frowns.
“My picture was on the news.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, so I…” I look down at the bag of ill-gotten goods
“So you stole all of this?”
I nod. Lev grins.
“Not bad work.”
“Is the Bratva hiring petty thieves?”
He chuckles as he pulls me close. “Come on.”
It’s somewhere in between lunch and dinner, and I’m starving. But I manage to cut up some veggies while Lev cooks up the fish and sautés some other stuff for us.
We eat, and it’s absolutely delicious. It’s also gone in seconds, and we both laugh. We do the dishes together. After, Lev grins as he pulls closer to me. He wipes his hands off and the slides them over my hips. The touch is electrifying, and my heart begins to beat faster.
And then, I yawn.
“Oh my God,” I groan as my face burns with embarrassment.
Lev laughs. “Don’t be. Go rest.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
I immediately yawn again.
He grins at me. “Lie down. Rest.”
“Okay, you’re the one who needs rest. You got shot.”
“And then someone made me better. Go rest, lastachka. Take half an hour or something.”
I sigh. “Fine,” I mutter begrudgingly as he kisses the top of my head. “But just for half an hour, okay?”
He grins as I turn to trudge into the bedroom. I know I’m tired, but I seriously doubt I’ll be able to fall asleep with everything going on.
But a minute later, I’m pretty sure I’m out before my head even hits the pillow.
When I wake, the sun is going down. And I’m absolutely starving. I groan and swing my legs out of bed, feeling groggy and confused from the nap.
“Lev?”
The house is empty. And when I look at the clock, I frown. It’s been way more than thirty minutes. I look around the small house before I glance out the window. I grin, biting my lip when I see him sitting at the end of the dock.
I’m feeling gross in the sweatpants and t-shirt I’ve been wearing all day and all last night, though. So I shrug them off and head into the bathroom to shower. I groan though when I remember the lack of electricity. No electric means no hot water. I stick my hand under the spray and shiver. Yeah, only cold. And it’s really cold. But screw it.
I jump in anyways, gasping as the shock hits me. But it gets me in and out quickly. I shiver and towel off, then I grab the blanket from the bed and wrap it around myself. I walk out the back door and pad down to him. Lev turns when he hears my bare feet on the wood of the dock.
“Sleeping beauty,” he growls.
I blush as I saunter over to him. God he’s hot. Shirtless, tattooed, and with the setting sun casting deeply grooved shadows over his muscles.
“Maybe more like Belle.”
“Belle?”
I grin. “Another cartoon princess.”
“Why her?”
“Sleeping beauty had Prince Charming.”
He chuckles. “And that’s not me?”
“No,” I breath as I lean close and kiss him. “I think you’re more of a Beast.”
“I am your beast,” he growls.
“Good.”
Our lips find each other’s again, searing together. I smile as I pull back, frowning curiously. “Mmm, what is that?” I grin, tasting something on his lips.
“Brandy.” He holds a bottle up. “Found it stashed in the bedroom closet. Much better than that rot-gut whiskey.” He arches a brow and hefts the bottle.
“Oh yes please,” I giggle. I take the brandy from him and take a drink. I hiss as the heat of it warms me, and then pass it back to him. I sink down, sitting next to him on the dock with my legs over the side.
Lev pulls me close for a minute. Then he grunts and pulls me all the way into his lap. I tremble, settling onto him. He groans when he realizes what I’m wearing—or rather what I’m not wearing—under the blanket.
“I’m overdressed for this occasion,” he growls.
I giggle. “I had to shower.”
“How was it?”
“Cold.”
I gasp when I feel his lips against my ear. “Need warming up?”
I moan instantly, like his lips are teasing my pussy via my ear. I nod eagerly and turn to look into his eyes.
“Lastachka, when I took you…” he frowns. “I didn’t anticipate this.”
“Me in your lap with a great sunset?”
He smiles. “The chaos this has caused.”
My brow furrows with worry. “Will there be a Bratva war or something?”
But Lev shakes his head. “No. It’s more personal than that.”
“Why?”
“Because…” he looks down.
“Because you took me.”
“It is who I took you from.”
“Chet?”
He smirks. “No. Remember when I was telling you about my father? The devil who did this to my arm?”
I nod, swallowing thickly.
“When I left home, he was a common thug. But he grew, like me. He got bigger, and just like me, he climbed the ranks.
I frown. “The ranks of what?”
“The Volkov Bratva.”
My heart skips. A cold feeling sinks into me.
“When I was talking about the dyaval—the devil—before…”
I frown as the cold feeling spreads. “Lev—”
“They are the same devil, lastachka,” he says quietly. My eyes widen.
“No…”
“The reason this business with Fyodor Kuznetsov is personal is because—”
“Lev—”
“He’s my father.”
The world stills.
“Biologically, I mean,” Lev growls quietly. He looks out over the still water of the lake, glowing under the sunset. “He hasn’t been a father in the real sense of the word since he kicked me out of the apartment when I was eleven. Back then, he was a low-level con man and pimp; piece of shit.” He shakes his head. “But since then, he’s grown powerful. He’s high in the ranks of the Volkov family now.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper hoarsely. I pull close to him and reach up to touch his face. I lean close and kiss his cheek softly. “So when you took me and torpedoed the deal between Marvin and my father…”
“We haven’t spoken in twenty-one years. But he knows who I am. He knows who I’ve become, just like I know who he’s become. He’s watched me climb to where I am, as I’ve watched him. He’d be pissed if anyone fucked up this deal for him, but it’s worse that it’s me.”
His jaw clenches.
“Parents, huh,” I say softly.
He smiles wryly. “Who needs them?”
“Not me.”
He chuckles. “I think all I actually need is you,” he murmurs softly.
“Well, I would hope so, since you went and caused this whole big thing by taking me.”
He laughs, making me giggle too as he pulls me into his arms. He growls as he leans close, kissing me tenderly.
“I want you…” he growls.
“You have me,” I whimper, gasping as his hands slide beneath the blank
et. They slide over the bare skin of my back, electrifying me.
“I want you your way,” he groans. “I always want to fuck you, but tonight, I want to take you to bed. Tonight, I want to make love to you, lastachka.”
I moan, and my heart races as I fall into him, kissing him. His big hands scoop me up into his chest. I gasp as he stands, effortlessly lifting me. He turns and carries me up the dock to the house and into the bedroom. I moan as he drapes me across the bed and yanks the blanket away.
He stands there, just staring at me. I blush and reach for the sheet, but he yanks that away too. I tremble, lying there naked and exposed on the bed as his eyes drink me in.
“Christ, are you beautiful,” he groans. He slips his jeans down, with his boxers following. I moan softly and chew on my lip as my eyes drop to his huge erection, throbbing against his abs. Lev crawls onto the bed, stalking over me. I whimper and sink back into the bed as he lowers his mouth to my neck.
I gasp, clutching him as his lips tease over my skin. He kisses up my jawline before capturing my mouth with his. But then he breaks away again and begins to kiss down my collarbone.
I moan as he kisses down the slope of my tits. He sucks one pink nipple between his lips, and I gasp, arching my back. He groans as he slides his mouth to the other one, his hands skimming down my torso to grab my hips.
He moves lower, kissing down my stomach as it caves under his mouth. His big hands grab my thighs and push them wide apart as he sinks between them. His tongue on my clit has me gasping in pleasure. His lips sucking it gently as he curls a finger into me has me moaning for more.
Lev groans as he drags his tongue slowly up and down my slit. He hums around my clit, and I squeal in pleasure as I writhe beneath him. My fingers push into his hair. My hips rock, rising against his mouth. And then suddenly, I’m coming.
I choke his name into the ceiling, wantonly grinding my pussy against his tongue as the orgasm takes me.
He suddenly slides up between my legs and kisses me deeply. I can taste my own scent on his lips. But I don’t pull or shy away. I kiss him back, tasting what he’s done to me on his tongue.
I gasp when he rolls us over and pulls me into his lap. I moan into his mouth, kissing him deeply. The swollen head of his thick cock presses between my lips. I ease down, slowly taking him inside.
“Lev!” I cry out as he sinks into me. I push down, moaning into his lips as I take every fat inch of him deep in my pussy. I grind against him, panting as I slide up and then back down.
His hands move to my hips, and he guides me slowly up and down. It feels like I’m bouncing in the ocean, slowly rising up and down. He holds me close and tight, letting me set the pace. I roll my hips, losing myself in him as I ride his thick cock.
His mouth is on my neck, my nipples, my arms. His hands are everywhere at once—grabbing my ass, guiding my hips, cupping my tits, and rubbing my clit as I slide up and down his shaft. The pressure builds inside like a wave. I cry out as the wave suddenly crests. Suddenly, I’m drowning in him.
The orgasm takes my breath away. I gasp, and then moan when his mouth crushes to mine. His hands tighten on my hips, and he rocks deep into me. The climax swirls me around and around, and I feel him pulse inside of me.
“Lastachka,” he groans. His huge cock pulses and throbs. His hot cum pours into me, spilling deep as I squeeze down around him.
I’m trembling and shaking, and I’m gasping for air as I throw my arms around him. I kiss him madly, like I’m desperate for the taste of his lips. I cling to him, never wanting to move from this position, and never wanting him to ever not be inside of me like this.
I’m dimly aware of him rolling us over, and gently sliding out of me. He pulls my back against his chest and wraps his big arms around me. And in seconds, sleep pulls me under.
My dreams are very, very good.
I awake with a start. In a second, I realize Lev is awake too.
“What—”
“Shhh,” he whispers, bringing a finger to his lips. The dark night feels still and quiet. But it’s almost like it’s too quiet. It’s too still.
He frowns. “I thought I heard—”
The window shatters. And then suddenly, light blinds me as a bang rings in my ear.
I’m screaming. I’m blind, and at least half deaf. But I’m aware of big, strange hands pulling me out of Lev’s arms. I can hear him roaring my name through the fog in my ears. Everything is so bright it feels like we’re standing on the sun. But I reach for him blindly.
“Lev!!!” I scream. “LEV!!”
I can hear him snarling and grunting. I hear my name, but then it’s cut off with the sound of a fist hitting skin. I scream, but suddenly something slips between my lips—a gag.
I scream anyways, shuddering as I feel the blanket being wrapped around me, and then tied tight. I scream and scream, but it’s no use. I can feel myself being dragged kicking across the floor, and then into the kitchen. I hear Lev roar my name as I’m lifted up into the air.
I can tell I’m outside. Then I hear the sound of a door sliding open—like the kind you’d have on a van. My heart skips, and I start to scream as loud as I can.
But it’s no use. There’s no stopping whatever this is.
I’m tossed into hard, cold darkness. Then the door sound comes again, closing with a “thunk.” I can’t hear Lev anymore, and that’s the scariest part.
The van rumbles and starts. And suddenly, I scream and topple to the side as it accelerates away into the night.
I don’t know where we’re going. But I know damn well what I’ve left behind.
18
Lev
Fyodor’s hit squad are Russian Special Forces trained. It’s a grueling, barbaric training, I’ve heard. It takes strong men and breaks them in half, until they’re weeping for mercy.
It’s a day in the park compared to the “training” I had on the streets of St. Petersburg.
I spent more than ten years fighting every single day. Not just to “pass a test” or get good marks from a drill instructor. I fought to survive; to eat, to live another day. To get through another night without the predators of the night dragging me into Hell.
These men are trained killers. They can break down an Avtomat Kalashnikova forty-seven in the dark. They can breach a target building with military precision.
I can go a week without food. I can run until my legs physically give out and I’m throwing up blood. I can fight with both hands tied behind my back, with my fucking teeth if I have to. The Russian Special Forces training has nothing on surviving the streets of the Marino District of St. Petersburg.
I squeeze my eyes shut on instinct when the flash grenade comes through the window. I hear the bang, and I can feel my ears ringing. But when I open my eyes, I’m not blind. But even still, it’s not a matched fight in the slightest.
There are ten of them.
Zoey is still screaming as I lunge from the bed with a lamp in my hand. The door opens, but I’m ready for it. The first man through gets the porcelain and metal directly to the face, blinding him. He screams and clutches his face.
I take his gun. Now, I have a gun.
I shoot him through the chest, and then put one in the face of the man behind him. The third is faster and starts shooting back. I dive low and sweep his legs. But the fourth and fifth are already smashing in through a side window.
I hear glass shattering behind me. I whirl and see six and seven swinging through the bedroom window. My Zoey is still screaming blindly as I snarl and lunge for them. I grunt as I tackle them both back through the window. My gun jabs into one of their throats, and I pull the trigger.
Three down.
A wire goes around my throat, choking me. I snarl and duck, flipping the fucker over onto his back. The barrel of my gun smashes into his face over and over, and by the time I pull the trigger, he’s already dead.
Four down.
Zoey screams from inside, yanking my attention back. I snarl a
nd charge around to the side door, taking it with my shoulder. I roar when I get the butt of a rifle in the gut, knocking me over. But I fight through it. I kick hard, catching him in the balls. My gun slams up between his legs, and I unload up through him.
Five.
I charge the smashed bedroom door. But two of them come crashing out to tackle me first. I hit the ground hard, and the gun is wrenched out of my hand. I can hear her screaming for me, and I roar for her like a caged animal.
I kick and punch. I bite and snarl. My thumbs gouge at eyes. My knees slam into balls. A third man piles on top of me. But I’m barely aware of it when I see her.
Two of them come rushing out of the bedroom carrying something wrapped in the bedsheets—Zoey.
I roar and strain against the men holding me down. I break free for a second and rush the two taking her. I tackle one into the wall, and my fist smashes into his face through a black balaclava mask he’s wearing. He roars in pain as blood gushes down his neck from under the mask.
But the other’s pile onto me, and I’m tackled to the ground. I look up just in time to see the man I hit and the other one rushing out the door with Zoey. Then I hear the sound of an engine starting. I see blood red as I flex with every ounce of strength I have left. I surge from the ground, knocking all three of the men on me to the ground.
My foot kicks hard, smashing one of them in the face. His teeth scatter on the ground. But he won’t be needing them anymore. I yank his gun from his hands, smash him down, and then flip it to push the barrel into his temple. One pull of the trigger, and it’s back to two-to-one.
Tires kick up gravel outside. I’m running out of time.
I get hit from behind, and the gun tumbles from my grip as I fall against the stove. But my hand curls around a cast iron pan as I whirl with a fury. Fuck-head number seven’s face caves in under the blow. He drops, and I hurl it at the other man as I charge him. The pan smashes into his neck, and he’s gasping for air as I slam him into the wall, yank his own knife out of his belt, and sink it into his throat.