Owned by the Mob
Page 4
Trying not to laugh, Sharon replied, “That’s mean.”
“Old people make me crazy.”
“You were born crazy.”
His voice changed from playful to serious. “I was born cursed, sis. That’s what I was born.”
Her head snapped up to look into his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Fucking nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Anthony Nash, tell me what’s going on.”
“My real mother died giving birth to me and my twin brother didn’t make it, either.”
“Things like that happen and happened more frequently thirty years ago. You can’t possibly blame yourself for their deaths.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It seems weird that I was the only one who survived.”
“You can pretend for mom and dad, but I can tell when somethings up. You’ve been acting strange for a solid week.”
“She turned down my ring.”
“Charlene? Why on earth would she do that? She’s crazy about you.”
“You said not to make you laugh.”
“Out with it,” Sharon insisted.
Looking up to catch her eye, he spoke, “She says that she’s not good enough for me and I should have a nice lady. She doesn’t think the women in my family will accept her.”
“She broke it off with you? There isn’t anything funny about that.”
“I think it’s hilarious that my poor Charlene thinks she’s not good enough for a fucking cursed mobster.”
“Tony, just go talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”
“I feel that letting her go is probably her best chance of having a normal life.”
Finally catching onto his train of thought, Sharon spoke tiredly, “You’re letting your self-loathing get the better of you again. We’ve talked about that.”
“Go to sleep, princess. I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you while you’re lying in a damn hospital bed. See? This is how fucked up I am.”
“I winkled it out of you,” she smiled, shaking her head. “I’m ever so good at winkling.”
A small smile played around his mouth. “I honestly don’t know what the fuck that even means, but I’m glad to have you for a sister.”
“Well, then, my work here is done. I’m going to tumble off to sleep and dream of my prince charming.”
“I don’t even want to guess what that looks like.”
“He’s got muscles, blue eyes, and a Russian accent.”
Tony groaned, “Not you, too. Cassie’s Russian boyfriend is driving me nuts. I don’t need another Russian to worry about stabbing me in the back.”
“Paranoid and self-loathing, those are your two worst qualities.” Yawing, she snuggled back on her pillow and allowed her eyes to drift closed. Where had she gotten the idea of a blue-eyed Russian? It was too weird.
Sharon woke to a private duty nurse her family had hired to help her shower, get dressed, and assist her home. Even though she probably could have managed herself, she allowed the younger woman to help since she was so nice. She introduced herself as Kara and seemed to really know her stuff. She helped Sharon shower, get her hair flat ironed, and even helped her put on a touch of makeup. All in all, she Sharon was feeling almost human again.
“Shall I get some alcohol pads for the ink?”
Looking down at her arm, Sharon noticed the number written there for the first time. All the memories from her accident came rushing back all at once, like memories were sometimes prone to do. She sunk down into an armchair, trying to process it all.
“Miss Sharon, are you okay?”
Nodding at the helpful young woman, she answered, “I’m fine, Kara. I just got back some of the memories of my accident. It wasn’t all that bad of an accident, so I expected that to happen.”
“Well, that’s good. No one wants to be missing important memories.”
Looking up into her smiling face, Sharon nodded and smiled back. “I want to put this number into my cell phone, then we can scrub it off.”
Fetching her cell phone from the table beside the bed, Sharon quickly added the number to her contacts list. About the time they finished getting the ink removed, her physician came into the room.
“You’re making rounds bright and early, Dr. Karan,” she greeted him.
“You were at the top of my list, Dr. Nash. How are you feeling today?”
“Not bad. Keeping me overnight was an unnecessary precaution.”
“Well, all your labs and other tests came back negative. Besides a couple of small fractures and the low-grade concussion, you’re fine.”
“I’ll follow up with my primary care physician if there are any complications,” she told him, knowing the routine all too well.
“And?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I’ll stay out the boxing ring and gym for a few weeks, take a few days off work, and come back if the pain gets worse or new symptoms pop up.”
Smiling, the man replied, “Who says physicians can’t be their own doctors?”
Laughing, she responded, “The licensing board?”
“Penpushers, the lot of them.”
Sharon laughed at his weird sense of humor.
Chapter 7
Wedding Bells
Alek
Alek watched in absolute mortification as his boss pressed his nice accountant into a marriage with his bodyguard, Valisy. Alek had been around the block a time or two yet hadn’t seen an arranged marriage in his lifetime.
The older man demanded compliance, and when that didn’t work, he turned on the fatherly charm. “You are a smart woman, Bethany. I always liked that about you. It’s time you settled down. You could do much worse than my Valisy. You are drawn to him, this much I see. You could not get to him fast enough when you thought him injured. It is a good match. This will be for the best. You will see.”
Valisy’s arms tightened slightly around his lovely bride-to-be and Alek watched as something deep inside her began to fracture. It was her resistance. She gazed up at the older man, trying to process the evening’s events. “You’re a complex man, Timor. You’re a villain one moment, and almost paternal the next. I honestly don’t know what to make of you.”
Timur responded with genuine warmth. “It is all part of my rough mobster image. It is intended to frighten people into doing my bidding.” Laying a hand on her delicate shoulder, he spoke again. “I should not have been forceful with you. You require a gentler approach. Valisy may prefer pretty blonde whores, but what he needs is a respectable woman, someone to love him and take care of him. I think you have a lot of love to give, and no one to bestow it upon. I am old and wise in the ways of love. It is difficult to watch two young people suffer as you both do. Come, little one. Give it a try for one year. Live among us, make friends, and enjoy our company. Give yourself a chance to find happiness with Valisy. He is no beast to force himself upon you. If our ways are not to your liking, you can walk away after the year is up.”
Rather than answer verbally, the pretty accountant melted back into Valisy’s arms. It was clear to everyone’s eyes that she accepted his offer of an arranged marriage.
“Very good girl. Valisy is an honorable man. You will not regret taking him to you.”
Timur must have been scheming for weeks because he had arranged everything from a late night church wedding to an after-party at The Avoy. Alek grimly followed Timur’s orders to the letter and arranged transport for their entire crew to the church.
Sitting in the passenger’s side of the SUV carrying Timur, his phone jingled. It was text notification. Quickly pulling it out, Alek was shocked to discover it was Miss Sharon.
I wanted to give you a proper thank you for the hand holding, now that my brain isn’t so scrambled.
He texted her back eagerly: You are very welcome, Dr. Sharon. Are you well?
I had a packed last couple of days. I don’t know if you heard, but I was in a car wreck. Though the injuries were mild, I di
d get to flirt with this hot Russian guy for a bit before they carted me off to the hospital. I don’t think I made a very good impression, ‘cause my hair was a mess and I was kind of out of it.
Alek couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he replied: Is this the part where you tell me not to get any ideas and to stay away from you?
Not at all. You seem like a nice guy but any flirting must have been accidental.
One quick suggestion. Since I’m such a nice guy, perhaps you could make the flirting intentional from now on?
I’m not averse to that idea. So, what do good-looking Russians do with their evenings?
You would not believe me if I told you.
Now you have me curious, she texted back.
I’m apparently attending an arranged marriage.
Is that still a thing in America?
No, my employer seems to have turned into some sort of matchmaking maniac as of late.
Let’s steer clear of him.
Easy for you to say. I am stuck in the vehicle with him tonight. I must go now, my beautiful new friend. Duty Calls.
Catch you later.
Sending her a flower emoji, he slid his phone back into his pocket.
Flirting with a beautiful woman was always fun but more so with Sharon, as she was smart and funny. He liked the way her brown hand looked cradled in his own. Her skin was soft and she smelled so pretty. It was crass to think of a woman that way when she was injured, but a man would have to be a fool not to notice such things.
“Who was it on the phone that made you smile so, Alek?” Glancing back at his always nosey boss, Alek responded politely, “A female doctor I met. She says flirty things on the texting app.”
“A doctor? I never saw you with a doctor, Alek. I’ll have to think that one over.”
“I am not looking for a wife, so do not think to arrange one for me, Mister Chensnokov.”
“You are nearing the end of your contract. If we search now, by the time you are in need…”
“With all due respect, sir, I say nyet.”
Alek sat through the entire wedding ceremony going back and forth in his mind about whether it was right or not. The poor woman seemed to be in shock, but she clung to Valisy like he was her savior. He tried to put himself in her shoes, which was totally impossible. If he were being coerced, he’d not want to touch the other person. Yet, she had a death grip on his friend.
Then it happened. They were saying their vows, and she lifted her eyes when she spoke hers. The expression on her face held so many conflicting emotions that it was difficult to sort them all out. There was trepidation for sure, but there was also hope, attraction, and such openness that it almost took his breath away.
For one brief moment, Alek was jealous of his friend for capturing the notice of such a lovely lady. He watched Valisy slip the ring on her finger and claim his kiss. It was enough to make him believe in the possibility of true love again.
They headed to The Avoy and, if he had not seen it with his own eyes, Alek would never have believed how switched on Miss Bethany was with Valisy. She smiled at him, danced with him, allowed him to tip vodka into her mouth, and touched him with such tenderness. They kissed when they thought no one was looking. Of course, no one could take their eyes of the happy couple.
Timur spent the entire evening looking totally full of himself. Though he was pleased with how the whole thing went down, it left Alek feeling a little unnerved. The old man was a little too good at matching couples to suit him.
Chapter 8
Flowers and Flirting
Sharon
Sharon’s doorbell rang early the next morning and she opened it to find Alek standing there with a huge bunch of flowers.
Stepping back to allow him to enter, she asked curiously, “How on earth did you track me down?”
“The ambulance driver said he was taking you to St. Agnes. I called to get your room number for the florist and was told you already checked out. I clicked on your name when you texted me, got your full name, and let’s just say everyone’s information is ridiculously easy to find these days.”
Taking the fragrant bouquet from him, she responded politely, “I’ve been hearing a lot about that recently.”
“I could give you some pointers on making your information more secure. I run a security firm and it’s kind of what we do.”
“That would be great. My brother’s been bugging me to tighten up the security features on my social networking, but I never thought it was a big deal.”
“You might want to do that,” he agreed.
Motioning for him to take a seat on her sofa, she placed the flowers on her coffee table. “It was thoughtful for you to put them in a vase.”
“I did not think you would wish to be bothered with arranging them.”
Laughing, she eyed the big Russian with interest. “I’m not sure I have that kind of skill.”
Snorting a laugh, Alek sat back on the sofa. “I would expect not. You must have more important things to worry about than arranging flowers. How are you holding up?”
Before she could answer, Kara walked into the room with steaming mugs of coffee on a tray with cream and sugar.
“Wow, I have a serving tray?” Sharon laughed as she took a seat next to Alek. “How did I not know that?”
Her temporary caregiver responded teasingly, “You probably have a ton of things you don’t use in that kitchen, Miss Sharon.”
“Thanks, Kara, I appreciate the java. Do you take cream and sugar, Alek?”
“Black is fine.”
Her eyes cut up to him and a small smile tugged at her lips. Alek felt himself flush, and that rarely happened to him. Quickly speaking to cover the moment, he asked, “How long before you can return to work? Sitting at home cannot be very exciting compared to working at the hospital.”
“You got that right. I’m going to take a couple of days off and get back to single shifts. Your injuries seem to be healing nicely,” she noted, looking at his face. “Do you mind if I have a look?”
“Not at all.”
Scooting forward, she set her mug on the table and looked over his bruises.
Excitement spiked in his gut. Alek found he was enjoying himself more than was probably prudent. Feeling goosebumps rise on his skin, he prepared to be touched by her soft hands.
“How did you get the injuries? At first, I thought that I’d hit your vehicle in the crash but later found out that I’d hit the back of a delivery truck. They told me nobody else was injured in the accident.”
“I got injured sparring. We get a little vicious.”
She examined the bruises and lacerations on his face, ran her fingers through his hair feeling his scalp, and asked him all the normal questions. “At the time of injury, did you experience any loss of consciousness, lightheadedness, dizziness…”
His hand came up, covered hers as he answered, “No… yes and yes.”
Blushing, she pulled her hand from beneath his and asked, “Do you have any other injuries?”
He pulled up the side of his shirt and she found a rather nasty bruise still visible along his ribs on the right side of his torso. She tenderly ran her hands over the area while admiring his muscular physique.
“It doesn’t feel warm or inflamed. I’m certain you would have had complications by now if there were internal injuries or fractures.”
Feeling guilty, he decided to just come clean. “I was examined by a sports doctor following my match last night,” he confessed. “I have not sustained any internal damages.”
“You told me that you were sparring,” she replied dubiously. “You were either lying then or now. Which is it?”
“You are a smart woman and are not afraid to point out the conflicting information. Clever and brave are wonderful attributes for a beautiful woman to have.”
Her lovely face transformed into an expression of genuine amusement. “Throwing in a bunch of compliments doesn’t distract me from the fact that you didn’t
answer my question.”
Looking sheepish, Alek admitted, “I may have done whatever is the opposite of exaggerating something.” He couldn’t for the life of him remember the English word he was looking for.
“You mean you downplayed or minimized it,” she smiled, loving his heavy Russian accent.
Feeling totally ignorant, he nodded, “Yes, yes. I minimized it.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“I had no wish to worry you with the injuries I sustained in my not very legal kickboxing match.”
Intrigued, she prodded, “Do you fight regularly or was last night a one-time thing?”
Unable to ascertain why she was so fascinated with his matches, he replied honestly, “I’ve been fighting every two weeks, rain or shine, for ten years and that probably won’t change anytime soon.”
She didn’t look very happy as she explained solemnly, “Alek, the human body isn’t designed to take that kind of repeated trauma. I don’t have words to describe how dangerous the cumulative effect of sustaining the same types of injuries over and over again is for you.”
Picking up on almost fierce emotions in her voice as she spoke, Alek wondered why she cared about such things. Perhaps she was overly concerned about all the random strangers she met in the world. A tiny spark of something akin to hope fired in his chest as the thought occurred to him that perhaps she saw something to like about him in this chance encounter. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Why do you care? I am a virtual strange to you.”
Her eyes flew open, then slid away. She appeared to be reflecting upon her own motivation. This woman was innocent and not accustomed to the intricacies of deceit. That simple fact made her vastly more interesting than most women he’d known.
“I’m a doctor. I fix people,” she finally spoke. “Caring about other human beings is part of my job description.”
It seemed like a good explanation but he suspected there was more to it. Her hands ghosted over the bruises on his side. Her fingers lingered, making him think she was not in doctor mode, sitting here in her own home touching him so intimately.