Hostile Ground

by Cara Carnes

  Curiosity roused Addy. “Not sure playing games with you would be good for either of us.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” He stroked her hair. “I think half my men fell in love with you today.”

  She smirked. “Only half? I’m losing my touch.”

  He cupped her chin. “You were amazing with them. All of you were. I thought…”

  “You thought we’d be condescending to them because they aren’t Arsenal,” Addy finished.

  “It was a possibility.” He reached into his pocket. “I have a couple of things for you.”

  “Oh?”

  He took her hand and settled something in her palm. His long fingers moved away as she glanced down. Shock kept her mute. The glass figurine glinted in the patio’s soft lighting when she held it up. Dents and blemishes fanned out along the turtle’s shell, whose head resembled more of a blob.

  Emotion clogged her throat. So many vied for control she wasn’t sure what to say or how to react.

  “I wouldn’t let myself think about the figurines I had to leave behind for a long time,” she admitted. Their existence was a bond she’d shared with Kristof, their creation born because of rebellion.

  “The nights we snuck out so you could go to the old man and learn how to do them are some of my best memories,” he whispered. “As are the nights we spent in the woods, under the stars.”

  “Or at the lake,” she said. She looked down at the small turtle figurine. “I was so terrible at this back then.”

  “You’ve continued your craft.” It was a statement of fact rather than a question, as if he knew she wouldn’t let the small happiness from that time die.

  “Remembering those nights kept…” She huffed out a breath. “It kept me closer to what I had back then. With you.”

  “When I heard Father was tearing the camp down and building the compound, I snuck out there before the construction crews arrived,” Kristof said, his voice a barely audible whisper. “I remembered where you hid them. I wasn’t sure whether they’d still be there, but I had to look, just in case.”

  She stroked the uneven shell and smiled up at him. “I didn’t have time to retrieve them. They hauled me out of bed one morning and informed me my brother had come. I was so…”

  “You thought you were free,” Kristof said. “I felt much the same way.”

  “Neither of us were free, though. Were we?”

  “No.” Kristof leaned against the rail and looked out into the wooded area behind the house. “We were simply moved to a larger cage with different rules. At least there we…had each other.”

  Until he’d left.

  No. He’d been taken away, just as she had. “My anger at you kept me going those two years I was there after you left.”

  “I worried about you, wondered if you’d avoid punishments and survive without me.” He sighed heavily. “You were always the risk taker of us. You unleashed the fire.”

  “And you tamed it,” Addy said. “It took me a few months to control my fury, hone it. Misha…” He didn’t need to know.

  Kristof peered into her eyes. “Tell me.”

  “Misha used your leaving against me,” Addy whispered. “I missed you so much it hurt. I swore to never…” She forced the admission back. He didn’t deserve her anger. “I kept making them after you left, but it was harder. It hurt too much at first, being there without you. The stars lost some of their sparkle, too.”

  “I spent many nights staring up at them, wondering if you were in our spot in the woods. Hoping you were safe.” He touched the turtle. “There’s a hidden room in my house. I kept them all there and would look at them each day, remembering the nights you made the ones I recognized. Wondering what the others were like for the new ones I found.”

  They weren’t ever as great as they’d been with him there. “Kristof.”

  “That’s when the new Addy was born. The one who wouldn’t let anyone get close.” He grasped her waist, holding her against him. Awareness arced through her. “I would’ve come back for you, somehow. But some things happened that prevented it.”

  “You told me. Your father hired Maksim to kill you. Then you worked your way back into his good graces.” She settled her hand atop Kristof’s. “I understand. I don’t blame you.”

  “I didn’t share how I earned my way back in,” he said. “You should know. I won’t hide anything from you. Not any longer.”

  Her stomach somersaulted as he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. The soft contact cast heat throughout her body as she opened her mouth and swept her tongue along the seam of his mouth.

  He severed the kiss and drew her into his arms. “It’s not a pretty story, but it’s yours to hear if you want.”

  “Our past can’t hurt us anymore.” She wrapped her arms around him, unsure why they were holding one another.

  All she knew was she didn’t want to let him go. She’d needed the human contact. No. She’d needed him. It felt as if she’d gotten a lost piece of herself back and she wasn’t ever going to let it go.

  “I’m not sure how familiar you are with the wars and unrest within the gangs back then,” he said.

  “I know there was a war for territory and control over the businesses and enterprises. The old guard versus a new order. Politics and new business opportunities fueled the inferno,” she said.

  “That’s a decent summary. Father straddled the lines between the old ways and the new. He’d vacated Russia to avoid arrest because, even though he had bought off some officials, he didn’t have control over those making the decisions. Between the arrests and nightly wars and assassinations, it was a violent time with no end in sight.”

  “And he pulled you into that. That’s why you were taken out of the camp?”

  “Many of us were. Business leaders formerly controlled by either a gang or government were now thriving within their own right. The new economic system undermined everything Father was used to.”

  “But he survived.”

  “He did. He and those who did were smart. They ran their organizations from outside the country, let others take the fall when necessary. Everyone beneath them were pawns sacrificed if needed.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I was his power play, or one of them.”

  “How?”

  “I was arrested, sent to prison where people like my father were once kings. Alliances and power were once gained by who you met there.”

  Prison? Had that come up in Mary’s background searches? “How long?”

  “Five years.” He sighed. “It’s where I established my underworld identity—one apart from my father’s syndicate. That’s where Kristof Lavrov was born. I formed alliances with the leaders who’d been arrested, with anyone who held some form of power. That’s also where The Collective found me.”

  “So, you left prison firmly entrenched within the underground,” Addy said. “That must’ve been a hard haul.”

  “No harder than what we’d endured in the camp,” Kristof said. “The hardest part was my inability to affiliate myself with father. His name would’ve protected me.”

  “Was that another attempt at killing you?” Anger filled her voice.

  “Perhaps. I assumed so, at first. But Gavriil was thrown in a few months after me. We formed a bond, an alliance of sort. He had the protection of his father’s name.”

  Prison. He’d been fighting to survive. That’s why he hadn’t come back for her.

  “When I got out, I looked for you,” he said. “Maksim had worked on getting the underground operation started using whatever contacts and resources he had. I added mine and the rest is history, I suppose.”

  “Peter took me from the camp,” Addy whispered. “I was too young to be officially on Hive’s records for the first year or so. He…he sent me on off-the-book missions. They were…horrible.”

  Kristof tightened against her. Her eyes burned.

  “I can’t ever talk about those years. I…” She swallowed. “I need that pa
rt of me to remain buried with him.”

  “I understand,” he whispered. He peered into her eyes. “Tell me everyone who hurt you back then is dead.”

  “Almost all of them are.”

  “My father will die. Did he ever…” His lips thinned. “I need to know.”

  “No. He had others come to the camp who…” She ran a hand across his face. “We survived. We moved on.”

  “We did.”

  She pulled back and looked at the turtle in her hand. “Thank you for this. I never expected to see this again.”

  “I have the others.”

  “You do?”

  “I believe I mentioned that earlier,” he said with a grin. “I asked Maksim to bring them here. They’re yours.”

  But he’d kept them all these years. Why?

  “Come. I have something else to show you.” He took her hand and headed down the stairs leading toward the back of the property.

  Lights illuminated a large shed. He opened it up and turned on the interior lights. A large table sat in the center of the space. A cart with equipment sat nearby.

  Addy walked forward and ran her hand across the blowtorch. Glass tubing in assorted sizes and colors sat to the left of the machine. Her pulse quickened.

  Glass blowing had been a fascination of hers since her formative years at the camp thanks to an elderly man named Pasha. He’d taught her the craft late at night when everyone else was asleep.

  She’d continued the hobby after leaving the camp as a reminder of what she’d survived. The craft of making figurines from glass calmed her mind, took her back to the calm she’d once only found in that small shack with Pasha.

  And Kristof.

  Kristof had stood guard at the door whenever she’d worked with Pasha. He’d kept them both safe from the guards finding out—even going so far as intentionally being caught by them and taking a punishment so she and Pasha wouldn’t be discovered.

  “Kristof,” she whispered, turning to face him.

  Intensity resonated within his gaze. He cupped her face. “I’m not a good man. I’ll never be half as good as you deserve, but those nights in the shed, watching you with Pasha, seeing you craft something so beautiful despite the hell we endured, that’s when I realized I wanted to be more than the sword of vengeance for Mama.”

  God. Addy swallowed and tumbled into the emotion sweeping across Kristof’s face.

  “I wanted to be the kind of man who could make you smile the way that old man did. I wanted to give you the happiness and joy you found in that shed. I wanted to make sure you never forgot how to smile and laugh.”

  This wasn’t the Kristof she was prepared to handle. She ran her lips across his. The soft glide wasn’t the chaotic claim she wanted. The carnal fusion her body demanded.

  He groaned and deepened the kiss. She pushed against his good shoulder. “Your mouth. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll take the chance to taste you.” He licked at her lips. “Open for me. Let me have you, even if it’s only one kiss.”

  Addy surrendered to the need overpowering her common sense. Nothing mattered beyond sating the desire rolling through her. He licked and nipped at her mouth, teasing her with light sweeps and a quick flick of his tongue across hers. She chased, parried each action with a counter maneuver.

  A gasp escaped her as Kristof guided her backward. Anticipation quickened her pulse as he deepened the exploration. He pressed her against the wall and lifted her up.

  “Legs around me,” he ordered against her mouth.

  She stifled a moan as she wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust against him. His hardened length rubbed against her with just enough friction to heighten the awareness. Need pooled between her legs and her nipples hardened as he ground against her.

  “Kristof.” She severed the kiss. “You shouldn’t lift me.”

  “Nothing matters except for this. Us.” He nibbled her earlobe, then trailed kisses down her neck. “Fuck, I could spend an eternity just like this.”

  So could she. She ran her fingers through his hair and claimed his mouth. Tingles awakened her skin where his hands ran along her waist upward, beneath her top. Tingles ignited along her skin in tandem to the circles he traced along her stomach, across her ribs. He cupped her breast and squeezed. She moaned.

  He licked her lips one last time, then gently set her down. She leaned forward, against him.

  “If we keep going, I won’t stop, and I refuse to take you like this.” He rested his forehead against hers. “You deserve better than this.”

  “Don’t be a cock tease.” She pulled back and kissed his throat. “We should’ve done this a long time ago.”

  “You’re worth the wait.” He took her hands and kissed them. “I’m going to go take a cold shower. Enjoy your escape from reality.”

  Addy could use a cold shower or two herself. She swallowed back the argument lodged in her throat. “Thank you. I…I haven’t crafted in a few months. We’ve been pretty busy.”

  “You have a space at The Arsenal?”

  Addy nodded. “I took over the empty room beside mine. I…no one knows.” Except you.

  “Then it’s our secret until you decide to share.” He smiled. “I look forward to seeing what you create.”

  She knew exactly what she’d make. The creation formed in her mind, a gift for the man who’d given her a safe haven despite the chaos. They’d fantasized about a lot of things as kids while locked away in the camp, but there was one thing she’d always wanted to make for him.

  She tracked his exit. Then she turned and moved to the table. Her mind numbed to the chaotic thoughts that’d become her constant companion the past few weeks.

  She powered on the blowtorch and picked through the vast assortment of possible colors and sizes he’d gathered. For her.

  “Addy?”

  Addy startled and glanced over her shoulder as Zoey entered the shed. Her wide gaze took in the table as she approached.

  “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

  How much time had passed since Kristof left? She looked down at the worktable and realized it’d been at least a couple of hours, possibly more. Time always disappeared when she was working with her figurines.

  “I’m good.” Addy smiled, glancing down at the small figurine she’d made. She set it next to the others she’d made. “Better than good, actually.”

  “What is this?” Zoey touched the table.

  “I-it’s a hobby of sorts.” One she’d never shown anyone except Kristof. It was a connection to him, one she’d protected through the years. An escape.

  “I didn’t know you did this.” Zoey held out her hand. “Can I see?”

  Addy slid the figurine over. Embarrassment crawled across her face in a burst if heat. “It’s nothing special.”

  She hadn’t made any in a few months and hadn’t realized how much she missed her hobby until she’d seen what Kristof had set up. For her.

  He’d remembered.

  “Ads, this is beautiful.” Zoey crouched beside the chair. “A phoenix. God, the detail. It’s…I’ve never seen anything this gorgeous. How did you learn to do this? Why haven’t I ever seen it?”

  She’d wanted to share her craft with her friends but explaining where she’d learned had always been a hurdle she hadn’t wanted to navigate. They’d understand her need for escapism—they had their own ways of unwinding and retreating into themselves to mentally reboot.

  “An old man I met in the camp taught me.” Addy looked at her friend. “Late at night after everyone went to sleep. Kristof and I would sneak out to the old shed and Pasha would teach me while Kristof stood guard.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Tears shimmered in the woman’s gaze. “Did he…did he set this up for you?”

  Addy nodded. Her eyes burned as she looked down at her hands. “No one else knows I do this. I don’t even know how he figured out I still did.”

  “It was your calm. Like Vi with her quilling,” Zoey said. “You w
ouldn’t abandon that.”

  Addy picked up the small turtle and laughed. She swiped at a stray tear on her cheek and held it out. “This is the first one I ever did. You would’ve thought I painted the Mona Lisa with how proud Pasha was that night. Kristof too.” She shrugged. “All I see are the mistakes.”

  “You…you’ve kept this? All this time?”

  Her eyes burned more as she blinked back the tears. She shook her head. “I buried them at the camp. We did. He went back and found them before his father started breaking down the camp.”

  “Wow.” Zoey set the turtle down beside the phoenix. “That’s…I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Neither do I,” Addy admitted.

  “Sometimes the best words are none at all. I can’t imagine what it was like in that camp. Gage told me I shouldn’t talk about that until you show you’re ready.” Zoey hugged Addy tight. “I can’t imagine. God.”

  Addy hugged her friend. “Don’t think about it. I don’t.”

  “The memories don’t come back with Kristof here?” Zoey motioned toward the table. “With all this?”

  They did. Addy took a deep breath and nodded. “I fought so long to forget, but I’m thinking that was the wrong approach.”

  Addy was more confused than ever. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Kristof’s mouth against hers. Smell his cologne. “I know he’s not a good man, not on the surface level you all know.”

  But the Kristof she’d known, the man who’d given her this gift, was so much more. That was the man she knew. The man she craved more than the air she breathed.

  “Trust your gut.” Zoey took her hand. “That’s what Mary and Vi would say if they were here. At least, that’s what I figure they’d say. We’re all starting to figure out nothing is black or white when it comes to Kristof. Gage says he’s the most complicated man he’s ever met—even more so than Jud. I’m starting to think he’s right.”

  What? Zoey had always been the most outspoken anti-Kristof person at The Arsenal, with good reason. But she was a great friend with a heart of gold who’d obviously seen Addy’s internal struggle. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”