The Collector: A Dark Russian Mafia Romance (The Cells of Kalashov Book 1)

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The Collector: A Dark Russian Mafia Romance (The Cells of Kalashov Book 1) Page 8

by Vi Carter


  Once I pull into the garage, I turn off the engine. Mila is still asleep. Her breath fogs up the window; I have a moment of sitting here with her, in this odd sense of stillness. I’m very aware that no one has ever fallen asleep in my car before. No one would get comfortable enough, not with The Collector and most certainly not in the trunk.

  She doesn’t stir as I lift her from the passenger seat and carry her into the sitting room. I know I need to cuff her to the radiator, but right now she needs some proper rest. I lay her on the couch and cover her small frame with a blanket. She’s beautiful. I brush hair off her face and lean in, pressing a kiss to her lips. The taste of vodka is strong. She stirs and I leave her before I wake her up. She should sleep for a while.

  I lock the sitting-room door behind me before leaving the house. Once again, I know finding Gail now is wiser than waiting until later. She would expect me later, and when her men don’t return, I have no doubt she will send more after me. But right now Mila is safe. Safe from Gail, I remind myself, but not safe from Oleg or Victor.

  The city approaches fast and I pull up in the alleyway alongside Gail’s. I check my gun before pushing it into the waistband of my trousers and get out of the car. Boxes from a recent delivery, pallets, and two large metal bins line the far wall. I keep walking until the brick structure lowers to my height.

  I scale the wall and jump the black iron gate. The round knob rotates in my fingers, but the door doesn’t open. I had expected it to be locked. I knock three times, then twice and three more with a final single knock. It’s a secret knock that’s given to the heavy hitters who don’t want to use the front door. I don’t have to wait long until the door opens.

  I push my way through and remove my gun. The security man raises his hands, I recognize the scar that runs down the left side of his face, he’s been here for a while with Gail.

  “Where is she?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, pushing his hands higher into the air.

  “Where is Gail?” I hold the gun closer to his face.

  “She isn’t here.”

  My gun connects with the side of his head and his large form hits the ground hard. I step over the lump, move slowly through the empty club and discover that he isn’t lying—Gail isn’t here. Her office is locked. It takes three kicks before the door gives way under my foot.

  Gail is a smart woman, anything of importance wouldn’t be kept in here. It doesn’t stop me from searching her office; I make a mess to let her know I was here and that I will be back.

  Leaving through the front door, my phone bleeps with another collection. Brian Ledwidge is my next target. I didn’t like that he lived nearly an hour’s drive away from me. I couldn’t leave Mila alone. Bringing her on a job would be madness. The car hums to life as I get in and reverse out of the alleyway. I slow down as I pass Gail’s, it’s still in darkness as I drive past. I pull up outside the club and read the address again for my next collection. Making a snap decision, I return to the house.

  Mila is sitting up when I enter the sitting room. Her head snaps up and her gaze clashes with mine. Dark circles under her eyes have me second guessing my decision, but leaving her here alone isn’t wise. I hold a finger over my lips and beckon her forward. She doesn’t move immediately which surprises me, but she finally gets off the couch and follows me into the kitchen.

  “We have to go out.” I grab my wallet and handcuffs. Mila rubs her eyes while glancing around the kitchen. Her gaze danced across everything except me.

  “Where?”

  “Just out, Mila.” Using her name has the desired effect. She glances at me.

  Her gaze darts to the handcuffs in my hands as she follows me out of the kitchen and into the garage. I slide into the car and wait as Mila hesitantly walks around to the passenger side and gets in. The minute she is inside she starts to buckle her seat belt. I wait until she stops fidgeting.

  “Show me your hands.” The moment I say it, her hands tighten across her chest.

  Her gaze darts to the handcuffs again. “Why? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then give me your hands.”

  She glances away but relaxes her arms. I take a hand in mine, hers are so small and I think of how her small hands felt on me. My cock twitches and I gently clamp the cuffs around her wrist. The click of the cuff causes her to look at me. Her eyes are wider and I wonder if she is thinking the same thing as I am. I’m picturing her cuffed to my bed upstairs. Her eyelids flutter closed, cutting me off. Leaning over her, her breath brushes my neck as I wrap the chain of the cuff through the bar on the door before securing it to her other wrist. The click of the cuff is my cue to sit back, but her quickening breaths have me glancing into her gaze. The smell of vodka fans across my face and fear burns in her eyes. I want to reassure her, tell her I won’t hurt her, but I can’t make a promise like that. I quickly sit back and reverse out of the garage.

  “Where are we going?” Mila’s voice is small and tired as she stares out the window. The city moves past us and I run a hand across my face to keep myself awake.

  “I’ve a job to do,” I answer.

  Her head snaps up. “You’re taking me on a collection?” Disbelief coats her words.

  “I can’t exactly leave you in the house, now, can I?” My voice is rough and I take a quick peek at Mila to see her sink back into the chair. “More men will come,” I say gentler this time.

  “Who sent them?” The curiosity in her voice isn’t lost on me.

  I glance at her and this time her eyes clash with mine. Too much information isn’t wise, but who will she tell and what difference will telling her make? None.

  “Gail; you met her.”

  I take another quick peek at Mila, she’s still watching me and her jaw is tighter, she appears more alert.

  “The woman who stopped you on the street.” Mila’s words have a bite to them. She’s leaning closer to me, but the handcuffs restrict her. She glances down at them in annoyance.

  “Why?”

  “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself, too.”

  MILA

  I rattle the handcuffs again and Nicholai’s jaw tightens. I’m exhausted and have witnessed enough death for one day. He’s still staring at me, and I can’t stop the smile that grows slowly across my face.

  “What are you smiling for?” His brows drag down, my gaze flickers across all the tattoos that travel up his neck, my heart bounces in my chest and my smile slowly melts away. My brain is tired. Maybe that’s why I become honest with him.

  “Eric, he would die if he got to meet you.”

  Nicholai doesn’t react. I don’t expect him to. He doesn’t know who Eric is. It would have no meaning to him.

  I’m smiling again, thinking of Eric. He had been so much fun. I glance down at my nails. He left you, Mila, don’t forget that.

  When I glance back at Nicholai, he’s still watching me. “I was sent to the mill as punishment by my father. I stole a car with my friend, Eric.”

  Surprise filters through Nicholai’s eyes before his eyes grow darker. “You got sent to the mill as punishment.”

  It’s not a question, it’s an angry declaration.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t the first time I was caught acting out, but it was the final straw. I didn’t have to work in the mill, though.” Now it’s my turn to glance away from Nicholai, and I’m wondering why I’m telling him all this. “I thought I would be locked up for a day or two, you know? To frighten me. He said you would come.”

  I glance back at Nicholai. “I was excited that I would meet you. I could tell Eric that I got to actually meet The Collector.”

  I swallow. “You never came.” My face is itchy and I raise my hands to scratch it, only to have my movements restricted by the cuffs.

  I glance up at Nicholai again. I want him to say something, but his gaze bounces around my face. He frowns and my stomach dips.

  “Who’s your father?”

  My heart pounds harder. “Oleg will co
me back for me,” I say, and the stupid pleading in my voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Nicholai had no power with these men, and my time was running out.

  “Let me go.” I whisper and chew my lip.

  “Is Oleg your father?” Nicholai faces me, his tattooed hands joined in front of him.

  I shake my head. “No, he’s not.”

  He’s waiting and I realize it doesn’t matter anymore. For the first time, telling him who my father is, wouldn’t matter. He could let me go or deliver me.

  “Victor.” I say my father’s name with an enormous amount of anger. I always hated him, even as a child. But the year in the mill I would never forgive him for. It had changed me, twisted the innocence inside me, and made me afraid of the world.

  “Victor is your father.” Nicholai repeats.

  “Please, if you let me go…”

  “Stop!” Nicholai’s roar has my lips clamping together. He glares at me and I sink into the seat.

  “Your name is Milagros.” Hearing my full name makes me shudder.

  “Yes.”

  I don’t know what to think when Nicholai climbs out of the car. The slam of the door has me jumping slightly. It doesn’t matter who I am. I know the lie the moment it leaves my lips. But I am under no obligation to tell him who I am. I try to push the guilt aside as Nicholai leaves through a side door into a building. The moment he disappears, I start to yank on the cuffs. Stretching as far as I can, I attempt to reach the glove compartment to no avail. A door slams. That was quick. The moment I glance up, I frown as a man rushes towards the car. I yank the cuffs as he climbs in.

  “What are you doing?” Panic tears through me as he scrambles for the keys that Nicholai had left in the ignition.

  “What are you doing?” I scream as the engine starts and we are reversing down the side road. My gaze clashes with Nicholai’s as he bursts from the side door. Blood flows down the side of his face. The driver curses as he spins the car and we nearly hit oncoming traffic. I’m screaming as I try to make myself smaller.

  His foot hits the pedal and we are speeding. “Stop the car! Let me out!”

  He glances at me for the first time. His gaze flickers to the cuffs. “Why are you cuffed in The Collector’s car?”

  “Are you a collector too?” I ask.

  He nods and tightens his jaw before facing forward. He didn’t appear to be a criminal. He looked like a man who might work in a bank. His loose suit and fading hair spoke of maybe kids, a wife, and mortgage. I clock the ring on his finger. Yep, he’s married.

  “Please, if you let me out, I might have a chance.” I soften my voice.

  He glances at me again. “No, maybe I could use you as a bargaining chip.”

  I snort and stare out the window. “Good luck with that.”

  My body tenses as he swerves to the left, sending me sailing into the door. My wrist burns.

  “Fuck!”

  I try to turn in my seat to see what has him so panicked.

  “He found us.”

  “Of course he did. He’s The Collector.”

  How did I ever think I could outrun him? The man grows too frantic and is swerving in and out of traffic. He’s going to get us killed.

  “You need to calm down and get out of the city.”

  “Listen to me, lady, I don’t need driving lessons from you. So sit back and stay quiet.” Sweat soaks the side of his face. I have no choice but to sit back as he drives like a lunatic.

  “We are so easy to spot.” I try to tell him again. If he relaxed, we might blend better.

  “Shut your mouth.” His words are hushed as he grips the steering wheel.

  I don’t know how we do it, but we leave the city and make it out to the countryside. I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up my throat.

  “What are you laughing at?” He sounds calmer now.

  “Nothing.” I glare out the window. The irony that he is driving towards the can isn’t lost on me, but I’m not sharing that information with him.

  “So what did you do?” He asks me.

  “I stole a car. What did you do?” I glance at him as he pulls his tie off.

  “I’m innocent.”

  His eyes meet mine. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “It doesn’t matter if I believe…” My words are cut off as a car slams into the driver side, sending us off the road. Dust kicks up, leaving us completely blind. I glance at the driver who struggles to control the car. I close my eyes and send a prayer up to God, to let me walk away from this. I didn’t want to die in a car. I didn’t think my survival would be likely while handcuffed to the door. A scream is ripped from my throat as metal collides with metal. I want to scream and tell him to get back on the road so we can have some visibility. He’s spinning the wheel in his fear of what he can’t see. This time the impact is jarring. The collision races through my bones and I curl myself up as the car spins out of control. There is a moment where I think, ‘Is this really it? Is this how I leave the world?’ It’s a devastating thought. The worst part is, I’m not ready to leave yet. I’m not ready to leave Nicholai. With that final disturbing thought, we come to an abrupt stop.

  The blood roars in my ears as I open my eyes and scan my body. I seem to be in one piece. I glance at the driver. He’s stunned. The door opens and he hasn’t a second before he’s dragged out into the dust filled air. I can’t see anything. The dust lights up twice as Nicholai fires a gun. My heart threatens to rip from my chest. What if the man had been carrying a gun? What if Nicholai is injured? The man had already gotten a hit on him. The dust moves as a shape walks to the car. I push back into the door.

  Nicholai climbs in, his gaze dances across my flesh and when his eyes meet mine, they swim with relief. He doesn’t speak as he reaches across and uncuffs my hands. My wrists are red, and bleeding lightly in three places. But I’m alive. I don’t think—but react—and I’m hugging Nicholai. He doesn’t hug me back and still I cling to him anyway as my throat burns. The emotion is a double-edged sword. Seeing him meant I am alive, but also it meant the end would come soon and I would be handed over.

  Nicholai pushes me back slowly and my gaze moves to the body on the ground outside the driver’s door. The dust has almost settled and I can see the man with two bullet holes in his head. Blood oozes from the wound.

  “Don’t you ever get sick of it?” I can’t look away from the man. His finger clad in the silver band has my stomach hollowing out.

  “Not until now.” His soft words have me looking at him. His dark eyes would bring anyone to their knees, and I am falling hard.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NICHOLAI

  I’m staring into blue eyes. I’m staring into the eyes of Victor’s daughter. The implications just multiplied. I knew she was different, even important, but she is my boss’s daughter. I’ve never seen Victor or his family, but their names were familiar to me. I never thought I would be collecting his daughter, never mind keeping her in my home.

  “It doesn’t make sense.” She’s rubbing her wrists, blood drags across her skin. What price would we pay for hurting her?

  “Why would Oleg put his hands on you?” I didn’t understand that. Touching Victor’s family would be a death sentence.

  “He’s my father’s right-hand man.”

  That information surprises me. I knew he was high up, but I didn’t know he was that high up. “Does your father know he’s hitting you?”

  Mila glances away from me and I reach out and grip her face gently.

  She frowns and shakes her head. “My father locked me up in the mill, Nicholai.”

  I release her. That’s a large pill to swallow. The dust has settled outside. I need to get the body into the trunk and get out of here.

  “We can’t go back to the house.” I climb out of the car but pause and glance back in at Mila. “Who’s Eric?”

  “My friend. Well, he was once my friend.” Pain radiates in her blue eyes.

  I drag Brian to the back of my car. Po
pping the trunk, I lift him in. The driver side is painful to glance at, the damage is colossal. The car will have to be replaced. I climb back in and it takes three attempts to close the driver door. I keep glancing at Mila. I have no idea what to do with her.

  “You should tell your father that Oleg hit you.”

  Her head snaps up to me. “What? When you leave me at the can?”

  I face forward and grip the steering wheel. When I got the message, I couldn’t defy him.

  “He’s your father, he won’t hurt you.”

  Her snort has me peeking at her again. “Yeah, I’m going to return to hugs and picnics.”

  My temper sparks and I tighten my hands on the steering wheel as I bring the car back onto the road.

  The rest of the drive to the can is silent. I throw Brian’s body in and it takes me a few minutes to close the door. I’m tired. I’m tired of collecting for faces that I never see, for reasons I don’t know.

  Mila’s lids rest on her cheeks, but she isn’t asleep. I can tell from the rise and fall of her chest. “We can’t go home.”

  She sits up. “What happens when Oleg arrives and I’m not there?”

  “You said you witnessed him killing a girl.”

  She flinches like I struck her, but nods. “Yeah.”

  “With that knowledge, you could use it against him.”

  “No one would believe me, Nicholai.”

  I start the car again. “If that was true, then Oleg wouldn’t be trying to frighten you to keep you quiet.”

  The next time I see him, I’ll struggle not to take his pitiful life. I exhale loudly to try to keep the darkness at bay.

  I park at the furthest corner of the car park of the motel. “I’ll get us checked in.”

  Mila’s eyes widen like she can’t believe I’m leaving her. The chip I had placed in her neck allowed me to find her and Brian easily. Not that it was hard with his erratic driving, but it showed me where they were and that’s how I found them.

  “Don't try to run.” My threat falls flat. Nerves squirm in my stomach as I leave the car. Leaving her alone now feels unnatural. I glance back at the car the moment I reach the front door of the reception. She’s still sitting in the car. I enter and order a room. The receptionist doesn’t ask questions, just takes the payment.

 

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