Fractured (The Volkov Mafia Series Book 3)

by S. E Foster

  “I need you to take me how you used to, Malc. I don’t want you to worship me, I need you to use me, hard and demanding. Please, Malc.” Her words threaten to break me, I have tried so damn hard not to over the past few weeks. All I have done is love her, show her I love her, flaws and all. But it’s not enough to keep her demons at bay; she needs to have it her way. I don’t speak, I can’t, I’m too afraid of my voice crumbling in front of her, showing her that I don’t want this, making her feel that I don’t want her and that’s something I am not willing to do. Instead I bring my lips down hard against hers, not giving her time to open, I demand entrance, which I just take. Her moan tells me I have hit the nail on the head and this is what she needs. She grips on to my shoulders as I lift her up and push her hard against the nearest wall. I rip her clothes off, not being at all gentle with her and she is trembling with need, her eyes have started to glaze over. She doesn’t even see me, it’s working, blocking out the hurt and the pain. I fumble with the buttons on my trousers, just opening them enough to free myself. I’m hard. I won’t try to make out I’m not. I love this woman more than anything, even if I don’t like what she is making me do, I will always be hard for her, only her. My hips keep her up against the wall, one hand underneath her arse, I bring the other up to her throat and wrap it tightly around her. I hear her gasp and I crush my lips to hers pushing my tongue inside, at the same time I thrust myself all the way deep inside her, I don’t give her time to adjust to my size or my piercing – she would only tell me I am not doing it right. I set the punishing rhythm she needs, her back bouncing off the wall as my hand keeps a steady grip on her throat. She clenches tightly around me, her screams of pleasure make my balls tighten in anticipation.

  She looks at me, her mouth open. “Tighter, harder, please.” I know – it’s the same every time. I squeeze a little tighter with my fingers and if I go any tighter she will have marks tomorrow. I pull out as far as I can and slam back inside of her a few more times as deep and hard as I can go, I can’t stop myself as I cum hard inside of her. When she feels the first pulses of my cum firing deep inside, she clenches and tenses, her whole body screaming out her release. I pause letting her orgasm claim her. As soon as she is finished I pull out and drop her to the floor. I tuck my cock away and turn away from her, disgusted again that she wheels this much power over me.

  I grab the car keys from the counter and make my way out of the front door, letting it slam as I leave.

  I need a drink. Now I need to forget.

  I pull up to Damien’s and my temper is flaring; I feel like I am on the brink of a fucking meltdown. Getting out of the car and slamming the door shut – right now I don’t care if it falls of its damn hinges. I am so pissed off at her, at myself, hell, at the whole world right now. How am I supposed to help her if she won’t fucking help herself first? I don’t bother knocking I just push the door open and walk straight in. That’s the trust that I get with being Damien’s number one, granted we are small, but we are mighty. We closed ranks after everything that happened to Faith and Camilla; we got rid of the trash so to speak.

  I go straight into the office and spy Damien sat in his chair. I take a seat in front of him crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the tiny chair.

  “What’s got you so pissed off, Malc?” his voice sounds amused.

  “Fucking women! I tell you she is going to be the death of me, Damien, I swear to God. Why won’t she just admit she needs fucking help instead of putting on a front and trying to make me think that she’s ok?” I tell him.

  I still can’t calm down and my blood is boiling. I am angry and hurt all at the same time. I can’t deal with these fucking emotions – before Camilla my life was simple: eat, sleep, work, fuck. And that was the limit of my day. I never had the same woman in my bed more than once, the need for a release and not having to use my hand that’s all it was for me until I met her. She brought out all these feelings that I had kept locked down, love for fuck’s sake. Me? Love? Of all the things I could feel that is the one that tops it all.

  “Well what’s happened now to cause you to look like the Hulk is going to pop out and say hello?” I crack a little smile and sigh. Getting up I go straight for the whiskey that I know is on the shelf in the office and pour myself a glass, I don’t care that I don’t stick to tipple, I want to drown in the bloody stuff, anything to try and block these feelings out.

  “I thought she was doing better. Then I came back to work today and went home to her and I could see that all was not right, then it hit me when she wanted me to take her to bed.” The puzzled look that Damien gives me is enough for me to realise that he doesn’t know everything. Where do I start?

  “What do you mean take her to bed? I think that’s normal in a relationship is it not?”

  He says it so matter-of-factly, like everyone has the same sort of relationship – not everyone can have the fucking fairy tale. Yes, they started rocky but it all worked out for them. It’s my girl that is left with the physical scars of that shit storm.

  “She uses sex as a coping mechanism. She tries to forget the pain and find that high that keeps it blocked out for a short moment of time. It gives her peace,” I say to him, not really wanting to go into grave detail about how we have sex or why. But I give him enough so that he understands the crux of the problem.

  “So all those months when she would only see you and no one else, it’s because she was fucking your brains out?” He looks fucking smug and it takes all my effort not to punch him right in the face. If he was anyone other than the head of the family I wouldn’t even hesitate, they would be spark out, lying flat on their back.

  “Hey, don’t make light of this. Do you even realise what she went through, hell, what she is still going through? Not only did she use me to try and erase every touch that that scumbag made, every slash of the blade across her skin, she hurts. She shuts out everyone, including me. It took me months to get her to show me a glimpse of her former self. Every time I took her a little piece of me died inside.” The words just fall from my lips, I know they sound all mushy and girly but I don’t care right now; I need my best friend more than my boss; I need his advice on what I can do to help her.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, Malc? Why did you think that you had to be the only one to help her? The amount of times that Faith fell apart crying into my arms at night because Cami shut her out. She thought she was doing the best she could for her friend, thinking that you had it all under control, when in fact you didn’t did you?” I just about think that he is finished but he pipes up again ready to give me more shit. “You got what you wanted, you played the game and got the prize. Now you have to find a way to make her whole again, Malc, and drowning your sorrows is not going to do that.” His words are meant to wound and make me see a little bit of sense. I know what the end game is but I just don’t know how to arrive at the destination with both of our hearts intact.

  “I need your help. How can I heal her if she won’t heal herself first? She is stuck in the nightmare of the past and the only way she thinks she can move forward is to block it out with me.” My mood has calmed somewhat but I am still somber about the whole situation. You would think that having your wife and child with you after missing out on months of moments with them would be the best thing in the world. But I tell you what, this feeling that I have right now tells me I might just lose them for good if I don’t play this just right and that is a risk I am just going to have to take if I want my girl whole and with me for good.

  “Of course you have our help. Anything you both need you have, I shouldn’t need to tell you this, Malc. We have been together since we were babies, you are my friend more than my employee. Get it through your thick skull that you can count on us to help get you through this.” And with his words I think I know what will help her and it’s something I never ever thought I would say to Damien.

  “I want out!” I tell him, not a waver in my voice. I see him stiffen in his chair and wa
tch as the glass of whiskey drops from his hands.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he bellows at me across the table, gone is the childhood friend and in his place is the cold-hearted mafia boss. “I don’t fucking think so, Malcolm, you know that is not an option. You live this life, you die this life. End of.”

  By the way he says my full name, I know he means business. It’s very rare I get called Malcolm unless he is pissed off or if it’s an order, and by the serious look on his face he means it as both. No compromise, no discussion, nothing. I have been loyal to him all my fucking life, so much for friendship. I have killed for this man and he doesn’t even give me a chance to voice my opinion.

  “I need you to calm the fuck down and hear me out.” I realise that squaring off to him is probably not the wisest move I have made tonight. He stands tall and broad, letting his power show. That may work on the minions that work for him but not me. I have at least 40lb on him and I’m built like a brick shit house. The shouting must be drawing attention now as Alekzander is strolling into the office with Faith coming in right behind him.

  “What’s going on, Damien!?” she demands. He doesn’t break eye contact from me but his stance falters a little when he hears Faith’s voice.

  “He just told me he wants out,” he tells her, I hear the gasp that leaves her mouth before she gathers herself.

  “What? Why?” she turns to me with pure shock on her face.

  “Camilla needs this, Faith.” It’s all I say, hoping that Damien might listen to reason even if I have to say it all to Faith. She loves Camilla just as much as me, if not a little bit more. Faith just wants her friend back to how she was, maybe I can work with that. After all what’s the saying? Happy wife, happy life.

  “I don’t understand. I thought she was doing better. Why the sudden change and what the fuck are you doing here at this time of night instead of being with your family, Malc?” Great, just what I needed, another fucking arse chewing. Will this night ever let up on me a little?

  “No, she is struggling to cope with being back here and when I left this morning to come back to work it broke her again. She said she sent a text to you to see if you wanted to come for a brew, but got no reply,” I tell her, I don’t have any anger in my voice at Faith – she is only trying to understand. Plus, I don’t think it would be wise to piss Damien off any more than he already is. It would be like poking a beehive with a few hundred angry bees inside – not something I fancy doing right now.

  “Why has she not rang me? More to the point why haven’t you rang me, Malc? I would have come over if I thought for one minute she was sinking deeper. Damien, why can’t he leave if it’s what’s best for Cami?” she says to him in a rushed tone as if she can’t believe she is backing me up instead of her husband, and that there is a no no. In this life what your husband says goes, no ifs or buts about it.

  “I said no, Faith, and that’s it. I won’t talk about this anymore, he works for the family until his final breath.” I hear the command in his voice. I still want to try and get my reasons why across to him, but right now it will fall on deaf ears.

  “What if it was me? Surely you would do anything in your power to help me, give me whatever I needed to get through it?” she whispers across the room.

  “Of course I would. You are my light and I told you I would protect you for life, but this is totally different,” he says to his wife in a soft, calmer voice.

  “How is it different? That’s his WIFE, and his SON! What is the difference, Damien? None at all and you know it. It’s ok that you don’t want to lose Malc, but don’t push him more than he can take, Damien, or you will lose him for good. Trust me on this, I know how this path will end if you carry on down it.” Her tone is firm but still soft as she talks to Damien and I see his shoulders sag in defeat.

  “I don’t want this, Malc, sit on it for a while. Let’s try other options first and if in a couple of months nothing’s helping we can revisit this then, but that’s the best you’re going to get out of me right now, Malc.” I nod at him and bow out of the office, heading straight down the hall to the kitchen.

  I sit down at the table and pull out my phone to check for any calls or texts I may have missed, and sure enough I see a text from Camilla. I swipe across the screen to open the phone so I can read the text.

  Camilla: Are you coming home? I’m sorry X

  She has nothing to be sorry for; she is only trying to deal with it the best way she can. It’s me that should be sorry for not doing more for her and I have been pretending since she came back that everything’s fine. I can see now that was wrong and I need to get her some help, she needs to let it all out and find a healthy way of dealing with it.

  I throw the phone onto the table, not able to face replying to her yet, she only sent it about twenty minutes ago.

  I look up and see Faith stood in the door watching me, trying to gauge if it’s safe for her to come and talk to me. It seems the only person who speaks her mind at me, whether I want to hear it or not, is Camilla. That’s one of the things I love about her, she sees beyond the muscle and position that I have in the family. Only she sees the real man. Now I run the risk of losing her all over again.

  THIRTEEN

  Cami

  What have I done? My sick needs have driven him away. I let the scalding water cascade down my body, not really caring if it burns every inch of my skin. How could I do it to him again? All I wanted was that high, that escape from my mind for a few minutes to find some sort of peace. Leaning my head against the shower wall I try not to let the darkness consume me. In the end, though, it always does.

  I scream as loud as I can, but it only makes his eyes hungrier, his body more powerful, his hands more determined. The grip around my throat tightens and I start to see little white spots in front of my eyes as my hands claw at his fingers, trying to grasp any little bit of air I can get. My lungs burn; my screams now bated and rough.

  His hips are between my legs forcing me to keep them open. The blade scrapes across my tummy as he plunges deep inside of me – not the gentle caress of a lover but the brutality of a man taking what he wants regardless of what I want, and I sure as hell don’t want his dick anywhere near me.

  It burns like hell and I try to push him off but he is like stone, wont budge an inch. With every thrust I feel myself tearing open more, and a wetness forms that I know is not desire but my own blood.

  The punches to the face start next after what feels like an eternity of his body using mine. Each blow he makes stops me fighting, not because I want to but because my subconscious is fading fast, too fast.

  The last thing I remember is the gut wrenching pain in my abdomen, then my body falling limp for the last time and the world around me fading to black.

  The tear tracks are streaking down my cheeks and I find myself now huddled on the shower floor – the water running cold. I don’t care, though, I just want each disgusting memory to fade. I sit for I don’t know how long, my teeth chattering with the cold, my body shuddering as all the warmth leaves me.

  I finally drag myself from the shower and wrap a towel around my frozen body. In the bedroom I don’t even grab my clothes, I take my phone out and text Malc, that’s who I want here with me now, holding me, stroking my hair, telling me it will be ok. With no response, I climb into bed letting the tears take over but this time not out of a memory but out of the loss of the man I love most in the world, my husband.

  “Cami, Cami.” I hear the whisper in my sleep and I try to open my eyes to find out who is calling me. My body is trying to awaken in the hope that Malc is home, but the voice is too soft for Malc, and as I wake more I realise it’s Faith I hear.

  “Hey, sweetie, I brought you tea,” she says sweetly to me and her tone is more than I deserve.

  “Thanks,” I say. I sit myself up in bed, only to see that I’m naked, I pull the covers up quickly to cover my scarred body. Tucking the quilt under my arms, I finally braving a look at my best friend.


  “Where’s Malc?” I ask her, my voice still a little horse from crying.

  “He has taken Charlie over to ours for a little bit so me and you could talk.” As soon as she says it I start to panic. Why has he taken Charlie away from me? What is his plan? Is it just to discard me and to keep my son away from me?

  As if Faith senses my panic she puts her hand on my lap, trying to calm me down.

  “Hey, don’t worry. They will be home in a little while. You are more important right now. We have a lot to go through and I want you to start at the beginning, Remember, Cami, I’m here to help you, not judge. I love you.” I can’t speak – the emotion running through me right now is too much so I just nod my head slowly.

  “Right, I will leave you to get dressed but meet me downstairs. There are some things you might not be willing to talk about but you have to, Cami, it’s the only way you will start to heal.”

  “Ok,” I say but it is barely a whisper. The soft click of the bedroom door tells me it’s all clear and I take I sip of my tea, enjoying the refreshing taste in my dry mouth. I dress in one of Malc’s t-shirts and a pair of stretchy yoga pants and slowly make my way downstairs. The house is so quiet without my family here to fill it up with laughter and joy.

  I walk into the kitchen and see Faith sat at the table with a pot of tea in front of her. I see the scones on the plate and I instantly know that Lilly has been baking again; I have to admit that woman can cook. I sit in the chair opposite and pull a scone from the plate suddenly realising that I am famished, but hardly eating will do that to you.

  “Where shall I begin, Faith?” I ask her, letting her lead this conversation. At least if she asks I will be able to give her the right answers, I think.