Deadly (Born Bratva Book 5) (14 page)

Oleg

This is the part of the job that I have the least patience for—surveillance. I like hearing the screams of someone begging to die, not standing around listening to them talking shit about my soon-to-be father-in-law.

When I go too long between torture sessions, I get antsy and usually end up releasing all that pent up energy inside my woman. If Roksana cuts this son of a bitch’s throat tonight, I’ll rip her blood-soaked clothes from her body and fuck her like I hate her, and I won’t care who’s watching. Hell, a little exhibitionism always takes the edge off – or, it did before I met Roksana. There’s no way I’ll ever let anyone else see her bare curves or hear the sounds she makes when she takes her pleasure.
Fuuuuck, I need to torture somebody…

“Look, I don’t want to do this quick,” I tell Roksana, which earns me a searching and somewhat heated look. “You want to teach him a lesson about disrespecting your father, right? I mean, come on, calling Glazov old?” I shouldn’t be provoking her by stirring her quick temper when it pertains to her family but it’s a means to an end. I’m a junkie to my drug of choice -- violence -- and I need my fix.

“Does someone need to get bloody?” she asks coyly her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Baby, I’m convinced you’re addicted to inflicting pain.”

“It’s you or him. Choose.”

“Hey, it isn’t going to be me. You know I get off on your special brand of pain, but when you’re like this, you’re too much even for me. How about I use my bowie knife to take him down and we take him back to the warehouse to get better acquainted?”

My cock twitches at the thought of what we’re about to do, but I pop a full-on erection as I imagine what I’m going to do to my woman when it’s all over.

Anastasia

I’m not surprised when I see Roksana and Oleg going in for the kill, but I don’t like it when they enter the alley and I can’t see them. All I can see through my binoculars is the junkie who just copped his dope slinking down the street. He’s clueless about what’s going on in that alley and, at this point, I am too.

After what seems like forever, the SUV pulls away from the curb and heads in our direction. As Dmitriy and I get in, my jaw drops in surprise.

“What the hell is he doing in here?” I ask when I spot the mouthy guy in the back of the SUV. He’s bound and gagged, and, judging by the expression in his eyes, completely pissed. “And where’s the other guy?”

“That son of a bitch is dead. This guy here is going to answer to me for running his mouth about my father.”

Oleg cuts his eyes at me in the rearview mirror and a chill runs up my spine. This guy is in for a long night and, like it or not, it looks like Dmitriy and I are invited to the party. The man’s muffled cursing is getting on my nerves. Any fleeting compassion I may have felt for this guy’s plight disappears as I smack him in the side of the head with the butt of my gun.

“Shut the fuck up. I can’t hear myself think with all that noise.”

He didn’t hear a word I said, but at least the rest of the ride will be peaceful. There’s that smirk on Dmitriy’s face again; at least someone is entertained. He and Oleg seem to know each other, but I wonder if he’s seen Oleg’s dark side in action before. I’m not in the mood to ask so I just look out the window and prepare myself for the inevitable. I’m going to watch a man die tonight.

Oleg

I pull into the woods that serve as a camouflage for our warehouse. I love this place; it’s where I do my best work. No prying eyes, no one to hear the screams of the man I’m assaulting, and all my tools of torture are here. It would only take thin wire and a blowtorch to get the job done, but here I can let my creativity have free rein.

My mind is spinning with ideas, new ways to hurt, to incapacitate, to snuff out a life in the smallest possible increments. Prolonging death is the most satisfying part of my work. I was born with a beast inside me; I’ve always known it. My soul’s need for evil will never be satisfied but at times like this, I can appease it for a little while.

I can’t recall a specific moment when the beast and I became one, but over the years his voice became mine and my soul became his. I am a fortunate man in that my woman understands my darkness and doesn’t try to change it or ‘fix’ me. She understands the most basic truth of my dual nature: one cannot exist without the other.

I’ve known Dmitriy for years, but this will be his first time to see Roksana and I at work. Guess we’ll see just how tough he is. I hope he doesn’t have a weak stomach because things are getting ready to get real fucking ugly, real fucking fast. If Dmitriy can beat the shit out of someone in a boxing ring without mercy, surely he can handle my brand of insanity.

It didn’t take long to see that Anastasia had the stomach for my brand of crazy. She never even flinched when she saw me pull a man’s teeth out one by one when she was still living life as Emily Finley. I guess her experience as a murderer didn’t just serve to kill off her enemies; it killed a part of her too. That’s okay; in this business we’re all dead anyway.

When I’m certain we haven’t been followed, I exit the SUV and walk to the rear of the vehicle. I jerk the guy from the cargo area and drag his ass through the dirt to the warehouse where Roksana already has the door unlocked. Judging by her shallow breathing and the crazy light in her eyes, she’s getting as worked up as I am about killing our newfound enemy.

As soon as I’m in the door I begin barking out orders. “String his ass up!” Dmitriy and Anastasia work together to lift him to his feet after they unbind his hands. He’s still knocked out from the little love tap from the butt of her gun. They move in synch, almost as if their moves have been choreographed. Interesting. Maybe these two will end up working well together. How sweet…a happily ever after in
Born Bratva
land.

I take a water bottle from Roksana and unscrew the lid, dousing the guy with the life-giving fluid. “Wake up motherfucker, I want this to hurt.” The cold water sends him into a coughing fit.

Roksana slinks over to me, holding the cattle prod she retrieved from a storage cabinet. Her smirk tells me she’s getting a thrill from taunting me, holding the implement high as she dangles it between two fingers. Her hips sway as she walks, just enough to draw my attention to the sweet apex of her thighs and away from the man’s wide-eyed horror. He just figured out that he’s dealing with a pair of sadists, and he’s not taking it well.

Roksana doesn’t stop until her body is pressed snug against mine. She begins to do what she does best—work me into a frenzy. Her voice is like silken seduction, her hot breath against my skin reducing me to a creature driven by pure instinct. My craving for violence and blood is vying for dominance against the simple need to fuck. I never tire of this agony that she alone can inflict on me with her relentless teasing.

“I think a hot-shot would be appropriate, love,” she murmurs against my neck before stepping away.

She taps the button that releases the blue spark of current. It isn’t the electricity coming from the end of the device that excites me; it’s the fear in the man’s eyes when he sees it. My fingers fist a handful of Roksana’s hair and I use it to tug her toward me again. “Give. Me. The. Cattle. Prod.”

“What do I get?” She presses into me and a smile crosses her face when she feels my erection at full staff.
Fucking tease.
Her body rubbing against mine is making my cock so hard that I’m sure the outline is visible in complete detail.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Roksana.”

She pouts and turns away, directing her attention to our guest who is suspended from the ceiling. I push a button on a winch that lifts him until he’s barely able to stand on his tip-toes. The strain on his body puts him where I want him—in distress. How you position your subject is of utmost importance during an interrogation. You want them to know they’ve lost all control.

Roksana removes the man’s shoes and socks. When he attempts to kick her she interlocks her hands together and forcefully punches up, hitting him in the nuts. She smiles when she hears his muffled scream. Well, that won’t do at all; I want those screams unhindered, so I remove the gag.

I take my knife from the sheath on my upper arm and hand it to Roksana. “You know what to do with it, baby.” The ticking in my jaw intensifies as she grabs the top of his jeans and begins cutting them off of him. My hand shoots out so suddenly that my vice grip on her upper arm startles her.

“Relax, baby, I have no intention of touching him. Unlike someone I know,” she coos as she strokes my engorged cock through my pants, “getting hard will be the last thing on his mind, considering the circumstances. I do so love it when you get jealous though.”

She raises her hand and lays it on my face, stroking my cheek with her thumb. If she’s trying to soothe me, it’s having the opposite effect. But the adrenalin surging through my system is a welcome sensation.

She wields the knife as if it’s second nature, slicing through his clothes like butter until he’s left in nothing but his briefs.

“Would you like to do the honors?” I ask her, handing her the prod. Her only answer is to yank it from my hand. What she does next shocks even me.