Nikolai

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Nikolai Page 12

by Sandy Alvarez


  "Let him go, brother." Logan steps to my side. "Come on. We've all been there. Control yourself."

  "Shit. What is it with you men? Nikolai, please let go of Dr. Holland." The use of my name snaps my head in the direction the voice came from. I see Emerson, Quinn's woman, standing at the nurse's station. My fingers go lax, and I release my hold on the doctor, then step away.

  I turn my attention to Emerson. "Where is she?"

  Emerson's face softens. "Leah is resting."

  My patience is wearing thin, and I'm barely hanging on by a thread. I repeat myself. "Where is she?"

  "Let's step out into the waiting room for a moment." Emerson looks around, and I take in the fact we have an audience. When I don't make a motion to move, Emerson sighs. "She's in a room getting cleaned up. Leah has a few bumps and bruises. Other than that, I promise she is going to be okay."

  "Then take me to her," I demand.

  "She doesn't want to see you," Emerson tells me, and I lose my shit.

  "The fuck?" Emerson's words feel like a slap to my face, and my brother clamps his hand on my shoulder. I shrug off the hold he has on me. "I want to hear this from her myself." The cords in my neck tighten as I attempt to keep my anger in check.

  "I'm sorry, Nikolai. Leah was adamant. I have to ask you to leave." Emerson gives me a final look before turning and walking away.

  Every fiber of my being wants to tear this hospital apart until I find my woman. My hands clench at my sides.

  "Let's get some air. We need to talk," Jake says.

  Unwilling, I follow Jake outside, along with my brother, leaving their women sitting in the waiting room. "I need answers." I roar, then begin to pace to keep myself from losing my mind and barging back inside.

  "From what we have learned, the accident was intentional." Logan's words stop me in my tracks. "Eyewitnesses confirm the SUV that plowed into Leah's car was at a complete stop just before gunning for her. He managed to take off on foot before the cops got to the scene."

  "Some sorry motherfucker purposefully tried to hurt my woman." The new information pushes me past the boiling point, and the first person that comes to mind is her father. "I want him found." I go to pull my phone from my pocket to make a call.

  "Gabriel is out huntin' down the son of a bitch now," Jake says. "With any luck, he'll find him before the cops do."

  I level Jake with a hard stare. "He's mine." No sooner do the words leave my mouth, Jake's phone rings, and he pulls it from the inside of his cut.

  "What ya got for me, brother?" Jake speaks into the phone. His eyes remain on my face, and judging by his expression, I won't be waiting long to get my hands on the man we're after. "We'll meet you there." Jake slips his phone away, then looks between Logan and me. "Logan, go tell the others we're heading back to the clubhouse." Once Logan walks through the doors, Jake turns his attention back on me. "You claimin' her, son?"

  Jake is a good man, and I have a lot of respect for him, so I don't hesitate to confirm something he already knows. "She's mine." None of this would have happened if my mother and Katya hadn't come to Polson. Words of doubt were planted in Leah's head, and now I must try to undo them. If she doesn't want to see me, I will give her the space she needs for now. "Leah needs protection. If she is unwilling to let me provide that, I will ask that you and your men do it for me. She shouldn't be alone."

  "Agreed," Jake nods.

  I run my palm down my face, letting out a heavy breath of frustration. "I'd prefer she stay at the clubhouse."

  "Done," Jake agrees as Quinn and Sam walk out with Logan. "Prospect." Jake grabs Sam's attention. "Stay here. As soon as they discharge Leah, take her to the clubhouse. She's to remain there until further notice." Sam's eyes fall on me for a beat before nodding and walking back inside. "Alright," Jake announces. "Let's ride."

  Twenty minutes later, we all arrive at the clubhouse. Instead of parking out front, then heading inside to the basement, Jake leads us to the backside of the property, a reasonable distance from the main building, to a rundown barn. There, I notice a van parked nearby. Dismounting our bikes, we go to enter the old structure. Quinn pulls open the barn doors causing the rusty metal hinges to screech. "Now, there's a sound I haven't heard in some time."

  Inside we find Gabriel standing by a dark-haired man, his hands bound at his wrist by thick rope, strung up above his head, his feet barely touching the dirt floor. He's already bleeding from his busted nose. I look to Gabriel, who shrugs. "He needed a little convincing to join the party."

  Walking up to our guest of honor, I bury my fist in his gut, causing him to sway. Fuck. Hitting him feels good, so I do it again. "Who are you?" my accent comes out thick.

  "Man, fuck you." The man spits at my feet.

  "Wrong answer." I land a few more blows, this time to his ribs until he's coughing for air. "Who do you work for?"

  The asshole is still coughing, laughing maniacally. "You may as well kill me because I'm not sayin' shit."

  If pain is what he is after, I'm happy to deliver. For the next thirty minutes, I beat him, only stopping after I've broken every rib in his body, and blood gurgles from his mouth. His body hangs limp, but he still breathes. I give the poor bastard one more chance, even though it will not spare him his life. "Who sent you?"

  Struggling to breathe, the man forces his words out on shallow breaths. "I'm ready to die."

  I look over my shoulder, where Jake and the others stand by watching. Without asking if he or his men would like to have a go at him, I pull my gun, face the motherfucker who dares to harm my woman and press the end of the barrel into his eye socket. "Then I'm your executioner."

  I pull the trigger.

  14

  Leah

  Hearing Nikola's raised voice from behind the closed curtain, causes me to jump. I recognize several other voices, two being Sam and Jake. I close my eyes, and my heart rate begins to slow. I told Emerson I didn't want to see him. She came to me moments ago, saying he insisted on coming back. I'm not sure why he's even here or why he cares.

  "Hey." I open my eyes and squint to see Sam pull back the drape. He steps up beside the hospital bed I'm currently laying in.

  "Where are your glasses, darlin'? Sam asks.

  "They broke when the airbag hit my face."

  He winches. I haven't seen my face yet, but I'm relatively sure I have some bruising from the way it feels. Luckily, that's the extent of my injuries. No broken bones. Just some scrapes and bruises from the airbag.

  "Thank fuckin', God, you were wearing a seatbelt." Sam kisses the top of my head.

  "Yeah, lucky me," I say with a sigh. "Pretty sure my car is not as fortunate, though."

  "Who the hell cares about a car, Leah. What matters is that you're okay. You scared the shit out of everyone."

  "I'm fine, Sam. It's not a big deal. I must not have been paying attention. I thought the light was green. And as you can see, I'll live. Just a few scrapes and bruises."

  "What's the deal with you not letting Nikolai come back?"

  Crap. I should have known he was going to ask that question. Especially with the scene, Nikolai was making out in the waiting room earlier.

  "There is no deal, Sam."

  "I'm guessin' there is," he counters, holding my stare.

  "Nikolai, for whatever reason, thinks he has a right to be here, and he doesn't."

  "You sure about that, sweetheart?"

  I give Sam a sharp look. "Yes."

  I can tell he's holding back from wanting to say more but smartly keeps his words to himself. He, instead, changes the subject.

  "Doc says she's lettin' you go home soon. It's decided you are to stay at the clubhouse for now."

  I sit up straight in the bed. "Why do I need to stay at the clubhouse? There is nothing wrong with me. I'd rather go home."

  Sam shakes his head. "Sorry, darlin'. The decision was made."

  "By whom? Don't I have a say?"

  "Everyone would feel a lot better if you came to
the clubhouse for a couple of days to recuperate."

  "I already told you I was fine, Sam. I don't…"

  Sam cuts me off. "Please, Leah. For peace of mind. At least do it for me."

  My shoulders slump, and I give in. Sam wouldn't insist unless it were important to him. "Fine. I'll stay at the clubhouse. But only for a day or two."

  He kisses the top of my head again. "Thanks, sweetheart."

  "Yeah, yeah. Now can you go find out when I'll be getting out of here."

  Twenty minutes later, Sam comes back, pushing a wheelchair with Emerson trailing behind. "Good news," she smiles. "I'm letting you out of here. All your tests came back clear. My only recommendation is to take an over the counter pain reliever every few hours and get some rest. You might feel fine now, but you'll probably wake up sore tomorrow. The abrasion across your chest, caused by the seat belt, will be the worst."

  I nod. "Thanks, Dr. Beckett." With Sam's help, I climb out of the hospital bed and into the wheelchair. Not wanting to run into Nikolai in the hall, I look up at Sam and ask, "Has everyone left?"

  "He's not out there," he assures.

  "Who?" I ask, playing dumb. My friend doesn't let me, though.

  "Nikolai." Sam wheels me through the hospital entrance to where his truck is idling just beyond the revolving doors.

  "I wasn't asking about him," I snip.

  Sam sets the breaks on the chair, walks in front of me, and opens the passenger door to his truck. He raises a brow. "Yes, you were."

  I ignore the way he silently calls me out as I climb into the truck.

  We're almost to the clubhouse when Sam tells me, "Alba and Sofia went to your place to get some of your things. They should be at the clubhouse by now."

  "Hmm," I hum my response while leaning my head back on the headrest and gazing out the window.

  "You know you can talk to me about anything, Leah. I know I've had a lot going on with the club and with Sofia, but I'll always make time for you."

  "I know, Sam. But I promise I'm okay." The lie rolls off my tongue effortlessly. The truth is, I'm not okay. My heart feels like it's been shattered into a million pieces. I stupidly let my brain conjure up crazy notions about Nikolai. I led myself to believe it was possible he felt the same way about me as I do about him. I had been a fool, and now I am paying the price. Nikolai only sees me as a friend, and I twisted it into something it wasn't. Sure, we had kissed, but anyone can slip in the heat of the moment. That just goes to show how inexperienced I am when it comes to men. I've never had a boyfriend and never been kissed until Nikolai. I cannot believe the first time a man shows me a hint of attention, I immediately make it into something it's not. How am I going to face him at work after this?

  It's been an hour since Sam dropped me here at the clubhouse. When I arrived, Ember and Raine didn't waste any time showing me to my room. Or should I say Nikolai's room? I know it's his because the sheets smell like him. I'd know that scent anywhere. It's ingrained in me. I may have gone rummaging through the dresser drawers and closet, spotting his clothes and a familiar pair of work boots next to the bed. Being in his space is like rubbing salt into the wound.

  Sighing, I sit down on the edge of the bed and look down at my dress. The one I wore specifically for Nikolai, and now it's ruined with not only the memory of what happened when I showed up at his house but also my blood from the bloody nose I received as a result of the car accident. A second later there is a knock at the door, followed by Alba poking her head in. "Hi."

  I give her a small smile. "Hi."

  "You feel like company?"

  "Sure."

  Alba steps fully into the room, closing the door behind her. She does a full-body scan, her eyes stopping on my ruined dress. "Did you need help with anything? Were the clothes I brought you okay?"

  "Yeah. I just haven't had a chance to take a shower."

  Alba sits on the end of the bed next to me, biting her lip. Something she does when she is contemplating saying what's on her mind.

  "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

  "It was just a little accident, Alba. Nothing to worry about, and I'm fine."

  I swear if I say the word "fine" one more time, I'm going to scream.

  "That's not really what I was asking. I'm talking about what happened after the accident when Nikolai showed up at the hospital ready to crack heads to get to you, and then telling Emerson you didn't want to see him."

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. "I made a mistake."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I made a mistake by showing up to Nikolai's house."

  Alba waits for me to elaborate, and when I don't, she asks, "How was that a mistake?"

  I look down at my feet when I reply, so Alba can't see the hurt written all over my face, though she can hear the pain in my voice when I speak. "Nikolai's fiancé answered the door when I went."

  Alba gasps at my confession. "Leah, that can't be right. Nikolai doesn't have a girlfriend, let alone a fiancé."

  I snap my head toward her. "I'm pretty sure I didn't misinterpret the woman's words. She stated in clear English, she is Nikolai's fiancé."

  Alba begins shaking her head, clearly not believing me. "No. No way. You have to talk to him, Leah."

  "I'm not talking to Nikolai. There is nothing to say. His personal life is not my business. I shouldn't have thought otherwise. Clearly, he sees me as a friend and an employee. The kiss was a fluke."

  "Leah…"

  I cut her off. "No. What's done is done, and I'm not talking to him about it. I want to forget this day ever happened." I look at Alba with pleading eyes. "Can we please drop it."

  Alba wants to argue, but she doesn't. "Okay, Leah."

  "Thank you." I rub my hands over my face, suddenly feeling tired.

  "I'm going to go so you can shower and rest." Alba stands and gives me a gentle hug. "I'll come and check on you in a bit."

  "Thanks, Alba."

  Once Alba leaves, I go through the bag she brought containing my clothes, finding a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. What I wish I had are my glasses. First thing tomorrow, I need to call an optometrist and set up an appointment to get a new pair. I'm blind without them.

  With my clothes in hand, I pad into the en-suite bathroom. Flicking on the light, I come face to face with more reminders of the man I need to forget about. A bottle of his cologne sits next to the sink, along with his toothbrush. Shaking thoughts of him away, I strip out of my dress and toss it in the trash bin beside the toilet. After I remove my bra and underwear, I pull the shower curtain back and turn it on. While it heats, I appraise myself in the mirror. The bruising to my face is minimal—nothing a little makeup can't cover. But the long diagonal red and purple mark across my chest where the seat belt locked me in, is sore and angry looking. Hopefully, the hot water will help.

  After spending longer than usual in the shower, I finish drying my body and pull on my sweatpants and tee. I was right. The shower went a long way in making me feel better. As I exit the bathroom, I stifle a yawn and toss the wet towel in the hamper sitting next to the dresser. The room is dark now that the sun has begun to set, so I turn on the TV. I can't see a thing on the screen, but the glow lights up the room, and I like having background noise to drown out my thoughts.

  The moment the TV comes on, something sitting on the table beside the bed catches my eye. There is a black rectangular case that wasn't there before. I cut my eyes over to the door to see it's still closed. Walking over to the table, I pick up the box and sit on the edge of the bed. The box is not mine, but it is familiar. I've had one like it my whole life. I open the top and laying inside the case is a brand new pair of glasses. They are a deep purple color and more beautiful than any pair I've had before. The name on the case tells me they cost more than what I could afford too. With the glasses is a small folded piece of paper. With shaky hands, I unfold it, already knowing who they are from.

  I thought you might need these, Malyshka.
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  ~Nikolai

  15

  Nikolai

  Shortly after my mother left town, I got word that Glory was threatened. I didn't hesitate to call my father, who insisted I remain in Polson. He also informed me the man who is now dead had a Russian accent. With strict orders, our men have the estate on lockdown, and The Kings have done the same at their compound, which makes the entire situation between Leah and me more complicated.

  Not being able to sleep, I head for the gym to work out my frustrations. After a few hours of hitting the heavy bag, and running several miles on the treadmill, I'm no less tense than I was when I started. My concentration sucks. No matter what I do, thoughts of Leah plague me. I've tried to get her to listen to reason numerous times, calling and texting her to give me a chance to explain. All her doubts are the direct results of a spiteful woman. The bitch doesn't mean shit to me. Katya knew the terms of our interludes, and I thought I had made it clear more than a year ago that our little arrangement was over.

  A short time later, I'm sitting in my office, going over contracts, and building permits when I receive a call from Jake. Already on edge with everything that is going on, my first thought is of Leah. "Jake."

  "How's it going', brother?" Jake asks, and from the relaxed tone of his voice, I know his calling isn't an emergency.

  "Work is keeping me occupied," I give a short pause before asking, "How is Leah?"

  "Your woman is doing fine. Rest assured, she is safe." Jake clears his throat. "But that is not why I have called. I've gotten my hands on some information about Leah's father." The moment Jake makes mention of James Winters, I close the folder in front of me.

  "You have my full attention."

  "Seems our clean-cut, God-fearing, officer of the law likes to frequent a strip club a couple of towns over twice a month."

  Leaning back in my chair, I run my hand through my hair. "You have the address to this club?" I ask.

  "I do, and I'm texting the information as we speak," Jakes says, and my phone pings. "He's a creature of habit. Never misses an appointment. He'll be there tonight."

 

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