by Belle Aurora
Anika scowled at my sarcasm.
“Well, that’s what happens when you ask stupid questions. Yes, I plan on telling him.”
“When?” Oh, she was resolute.
“Jesus. I only just found out, okay? I need time to adjust.” I paused. “And he’s already got so much going on. It’s still early. I thought to wait, just a little while.” I blew out a short breath. “I don’t even know what to say, or how to say it. I need a moment here.” I glanced at her with dejection in my eyes, pleading with her to just give me some time to breathe. “I’m trusting you not to say anything, Ani.”
Her defiance fought to stay but ultimately fled. She rolled her eyes and sighed delicately. Silence passed over us, and when I next looked up, I found Anika smiling softly. Thank God. I reached out soundlessly, and she looked down at my olive branch before placing her hand in mine, squeezing. My shoulders slumped as relief coursed through me, and then her smile grew. She spoke quietly in disbelief, “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”
You and me both, sister.
Sounding more than a little put out, I muttered, “Me neither.”
Our smiles softened, and Anika’s tinkling laughter sounded. She came forward and hugged me, and then I was laughing too, because it was surreal. My arms rounded her thin body. I held her like she was an anchor, grounding me.
We pulled back out of the hug but remained close, and when she put her hand to my belly, she uttered a sickly sweet, “Wow. That’s my niece or nephew in there.” I simply watched her. She grinned, and it was so much like the Anika of old that my heart stuttered. Anika shook her head, looking down at my stomach, then peered back up at me and whispered, “I’m going to be an aunt.” Suddenly, her face changed as if something just hit her. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
She blinked at me a moment before leaning in and letting out an awe-filled, “You’re going to be a mom, Nas. In nine months, you’ll never be alone. There will always be someone with you, someone for you to care for. Someone to love. Someone to love you back.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Unconditionally.”
I could have been wrong, but I swear she said it wistfully, as if it were something she pined for.
And, from the way my heart warmed, I guess I pined for it too.
Roam
“That her?”
I sat still, looking at the woman. She was pretty in a confident, sassy way. But then my vision was drawn to the willowy-thin redhead by her side, and I exhaled slowly, watching them closely. They were arguing.
I didn’t know what about, but it looked serious.
Anika. Poised, graceful Anika looked wild-eyed as she yelled at the brunette I knew to be Nastasia Leokov. Nastasia spoke in low tones but looked to be giving as good as she got. And dear, sweet Anika seemed overwhelmed.
It was a shame her brother was a cocky piece of shit. I might have liked to keep her. Her, with her soothing, angelic voice. I had a feeling that her smile would light up a room. Too bad I wasn’t in the habit of making women smile. More often than not, they left my company stoic, shocked, and a little turned on.
They always wanted what they couldn’t have, and I was unavailable in every sense of the word.
That wasn’t to say they didn’t have a good time. I suppose it simply stunned them that my brand of fucking appealed to them. It had them questioning themselves, and women, I found, did not like to question the person they were.
Too thought provoking. Confronting.
Delicate creatures, women.
I liked to play with delicate things. Frighten them. Watch them squirm. Push them. Observe the struggle as they fell. The kaleidoscope of colors as they shattered when they landed. And although I would have preferred the redhead, the brunette was an example I would be happy to make a lesson of.
My eyes flashed.
I hoped she fought. I really did.
I liked when they were good, but when good girls fought… now that was fun.
Nastasia Leokov managed to calm her friend. I glanced away for a moment, reaching into my pocket for my vibrating phone, checking the display then putting it away. When I looked back up my lip curled at the sight of them. It was oh-so-sweet when they hugged. A cruel smile tipped at my lips. I couldn’t wait to make her acquaintance.
“That’s her.”
We waited until they got into the car and took off. And because I was a madman, I turned to my man, gave the nod, and followed them.
I would bide my time. Watch. Learn what I could.
And then…
My smile was dark as the demon that resided inside of me.
Then, I would strike.
29
Vik
Cornered. My least favorite position and one I had inevitably worked myself into. I never should have allowed myself to fall into the comfort of a false sense of security, and now, getting out felt like a death sentence. And maybe it was. The buzz in the air had me anticipating this was not going to go down well.
“I’m done,” I told Roam, and he simply held my gaze.
The man watched me closely, taciturn, looking diligently, searching for anything he could use against me, as sociopaths did.
By this point, I’d learned well enough not to give anything away.
Turning up at my family home, claiming my sister for an evening, having his boys flood Bleeding Hearts, getting into my head, showing that he had no problem being exactly who people whispered about on the streets… this was nothing compared to what this man was capable of.
If I didn’t get out now, he would be the death of me.
At one point, I thought the stories about these guys were exaggerated, but what I’d seen with my own two eyes over the past months told me those stories had been, in fact, watered down.
They were animals, The Disciples. And Roam, their demon king.
Everybody had limits. But, for a price, for The Disciples, there was no limit. There was nothing they wouldn’t do. Nothing too gruesome or too horrific. For a guy who wore a dainty silver crucifix around his neck, I figured he would have been worrying about saving his soul.
He wasn’t.
In the time I’d worked for him, I finally earned enough to save the house and pay off most of my parents’ debts. I wasn’t sure how I was going to come up with the rest, but it was enough that I didn’t have to dirty myself anymore.
When I started, it was an adrenaline rush. A reminder of who I used to be. I don’t know what happened, but some time in, I realized I wasn’t that same reckless twenty-year-old I had been. My priorities changed, and I had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that Sasha had done the right thing in pulling the plug on Chaos.
One look at Roam told me why.
I didn’t want to be him. I didn’t want the shadows in his eyes. I sure as hell didn’t need whatever lurked inside his mind at night. He had it all and yet remained wanting. He was so desensitized to his brutal life that the coldblooded murder of a grandfather of three was just another day at the office.
This cold, haunted man… I could have become him. And that scared the shit out of me.
Roam stood from his desk and walked over to the bar in the corner, looking back at me and uttering, “The fuck you are.”
My sigh was purely internal.
I wasn’t surprised. I knew it was coming. Props to him for sticking to script.
Roam poured a glass of whisky, then another, and when he returned, he placed a glass in front of me. To deny it would be a huge disrespect, and you did not disrespect a guy who had your head in a vice. I lifted the glass and sipped. Whisky wasn’t my thing, but even I knew this glass held some expensive shit.
He took his seat opposite me, and because I was officially done and had no further use for him, I relaxed, leaning back and resting my ankle on my knee before revealing a frank, “I don’t like you, Roam. In fact, if I had a good enough reason to, I’d take you out in a heartbeat. Probably enjoy it too.” Roam grinned at that, and I was so glad to amuse him. “You play a hard game. O
ne I no longer wish to participate in. I got plans for myself, and they don’t include you.”
Roam’s brow rose slowly. “Now that’s a speech.”
“You just look like a guy who appreciates honesty,” I said in way of mollification. “Nothing personal.”
“Business rarely is,” he conceded, lifting his glass to his lips, sipping to cool honey-colored spirit. To my surprise, he said, “That’s a real shame, because I like you, Viktor. You’re a cocky shit who needs to have someone throw him off his pedestal, but I like you. You know the job, you get it done, and you do it with class.”
Now that… that surprised me.
Roam went on. “I know what you think of me. I know what you think of my boys. I get it. They’re orphans and runaways, ex-cons, vile criminals, the displaced and unloved. They’re not sixth generation mobsters. Not pure of blood like you. I guess that means something to you, but it never bothered me. I collect them, and do you know why?”
I didn’t, but I had wondered.
He stated simply, “Because everyone needs a family. Even the reckless, the damaged, and the mad.” He waved a stern finger at me, unblinking. “Especially them.”
My back went rigid when he reached into his drawer, but as he pulled out something covered in a black velvet cloth, I relaxed. He gently unfolded the velvet to reveal a stack of cards and spoke as he held them in his hand. “I know your stock. I know who you break bread with.” He tilted his head, appearing puzzled. “I just don’t know where you fit in.”
Confusion settled over me like a mist.
What was this?
What was happening here?
“Lev.” Roam took a tarot card and placed it down, face up. It was a lone figure wearing a gray cloak. It held a long walking stick and a glowing lantern. I peered at it and frowned as his gaze lowered to it, and he stated, “The Hermit. Wise but isolated. Clever. Mad as a hatter.”
Uh… okay.
It was an odd tactic, but I recognized it as such.
“Next, we have Sasha.” He placed another card down. It was a man, a king, sitting on his throne. He had on a crimson regal robe, wore a heavy crown atop his head, and appeared solemn. “The Emperor. The big gun. Authority. Structure. A little damaged but still aware of his pull.”
I felt it coming, but the anticipation of the card he would draw next had me straightening.
“Then there’s you.” Roam didn’t even look at the card as he placed it down. But my gaze was stuck on it, and my jaw clenched. “The Fool.”
The man was a bard of some sort, wearing a floral-patterned tunic. He held a single white flower in his hands, and his companion, a little white dog.
He was mocking me.
I gripped the glass so hard I thought it might shatter.
His expression darkened. “Fairly self-explanatory, isn’t it?” He looked down at the card and shook his head. “Irresponsible. Rash. Reckless. The sidekick. Always the bridesmaid type. Born to follow, never to lead.” That dark gaze unwavering, he muttered, “You’d make a really good fall guy.”
Anger pulsed in my temples.
Jesus Christ. Get a grip. Do not show him what he’s doing to you.
“It’s funny,” Roam uttered, placing the deck down on the table before resting his sweeping gaze over the three upturned cards. “You think you’re above us, but all I see is—” His eyes came to rest on me, and an eerie, slow smile spread his lips. “—the reckless, the damaged, and the mad.” He leaned back and took me in. “Turns out we’re not so different after all.”
We were. I wasn’t like him. I would never be like him.
I would not let him get to me. I wouldn’t. I was done.
We were finished.
The void of his gaze rested on me until it bordered uncomfortable. With a deep inhale, he unexpectedly dismissed me without a fight. “I got shit to do.”
My brow lowered marginally, but I wanted to get the hell out of there, so I stood and turned to leave.
His eyes never left me. “See you around, Viktor.”
“Yeah,” I told him as I opened the door and walked out.
Not likely, asshole.
30
Nastasia
It was a little after one when we returned from the mall. Midconversation, I opened the door and walked into my house with Anika trailing me. My heart warmed at her easy smile, and I found comfort for the first time in months, knowing that whatever she was going through, she appeared to be stronger than her demons. Ever since she found out about the baby a week ago, she seemed happier. And although it wasn’t deliberate, I was overjoyed to give her something to distract her from her tumultuous mind.
“What do you think it is?” she asked sunnily, smiling from ear to ear as we walked the hall with our shopping bags in tow. “I know it’s not anywhere near accurate, but you hear of women just knowing. Do you”—she inserted air quotes—“‘know’? In your mind, when you picture it, what do you see?”
It was bizarre. A week ago, I was thinking about whether or not to buy a Roomba. Now, I was carrying a bag that held a squatty potty, because I’d seen the pictures. Vik was a fat baby with a fat head. So, you know… priorities.
But, amongst all the weird, the strange, and the confusing, I was grateful to have someone to talk to about it. Sharing it with Anika made it all the better. Our distant connection had been bridged by this little bean growing in my belly.
With every second, every hour, I grew more and more in love. I couldn’t wait to meet him. Or her.
“I don’t know. I see both. It changes from thought to thought,” I disclosed as we started for the kitchen. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I think. Dr. Henley said we can book in for genetic testing at fourteen weeks.” I smiled back at her delighted face before turning back around. “We’ll know soon en—”
My feet came to a halt, and my heart plummeted the moment my eyes came to rest on the intruders standing in my home. Anika slammed into my back, and I stumbled forward a step. White noise buzzed at a pitch high enough to make my ears bleed, but no one else seemed to hear it.
Oh shit.
My eyes widened at the sight of the two men standing with their backs to each entrance, the skulls painted onto their faces textured and cracked. They stood tall, unwavering, and one of them looked me over slowly, watchfully, in a way that gave me shivers.
I recognized them immediately from the night at the club but still had no idea who they were.
No one spoke a word. I was fairly sure I stopped breathing. And after a moment, my gaze was drawn to the man in the charcoal-gray tailored suit going through my cupboards.
A light gasp left Anika, and when her body pressed into mine, she gripped my hand hard enough to capture my attention. I glanced back, behind her, to find another two skeletal goons blocking us in from whence we came.
We were good and trapped.
Nice.
“Nas,” Anika whispered, sneaking a fearful peek at the man behind the counter. When her frightened eyes met my own, she held them a moment. Her fingers tightened around mine. All that she managed to do was shake her head subtly and mouth, “Bad.”
Yeah. No shit, babe. I kind of gathered.
My stomach knotted in dread, but as I shifted my focus on the man in the suit, I watched in wide-eyed curiosity as he opened cabinets and drawers before taking the loaf of bread out of my fridge and tossing it onto the counter.
And then, he spoke.
“This complicates things,” he uttered in a deep timbre as he retrieved the peanut butter and jelly, placing them onto the counter beside the bread. “I hoped you’d be alone.”
He had yet to turn. All I managed to see of him was his back. From this angle, I could make out a few things. He was tall and dark-haired. He had a small silver hoop in one ear. He was muscular. And his confidence was frightening.
“Who are you?”
My question went unanswered.
The man went about his business, taking out some bread and a butter
knife, then began to spread one slice with peanut butter. His bored, “Not enough of a complication that I’d abandon my task,” had my brow creasing. He spread the other with strawberry jelly and slapped the two pieces together to…
My brow pulled down.
…make a sandwich.
How peculiar.
He straightened to full height and spoke as though he was talking to himself. “No need to worry. A mild hiccup.”
And then, finally, he turned.
I was momentarily dumbfounded. I hadn’t expected him to be so—the word stuck in my throat and my mind just the same—striking.
He was all arrogance, wide-set shoulders, sharp angles, and full lips.
A pair of dark eyes met mine, dark in color and dark in character, and he smiled slow, predatory, revealing straight white teeth. I couldn’t help but notice his pointed canines. “Honey. You’re home.”
This man… I didn’t know who he was, but I knew enough. Another glance at the goons told me he held a position of authority. And he was here, in my home.
Why?
It didn’t happen often, but I was stunned speechless. I couldn’t speak. No words formed. None that I could say out loud anyway. I did think one though.
Fuck.
He checked his thick, masculine wristwatch. “It’s not polite of you to keep me waiting. I’m a very busy man.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed deliberately. I peered out of the window toward the direction of Sasha’s house. If I called out, it wasn’t likely anyone would hear me. Not to mention, I’d probably have my ass beat. My options were limited. And the man spoke impassively, “Give me a little credit, Nastasia. I’m not a complete simpleton. Your brothers aren’t here. You can screech your little heart out, but I should warn you.” A forbidding smile graced his lips as his gaze swept my body. “I like it when they scream.”
My gut clenched in apprehension.
He knew my name.
Of course he did. Because why not?
There was a man in my house, and he was looking at me in a way that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Men like this were a standing fixture in my life. I knew them, knew what they stood for. The rapacious gleam in his eyes screamed menace. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he was dangerous.