Distrust (Smirnov Bratva Book 1) (11 page)

“Stop unraveling me,” she said pulling me down onto her.

I knew I couldn’t wait any longer, so I slid straight into her, knowing I would make it up to her later. Her hands flew to the side of the bed, she gripped the sheets hard and arched her back.

“Kazier,” she screamed, my name leaving her lips only pushed me further. Her legs went up around my head, her hands tangling in my hair.

I didn’t know a woman could be my undoing. I had never imagined such a thing. Women weren’t something I saw as a possession, more like an obstacle. But I wanted to possess her, I wanted to claim her, and I wanted to keep her. That would be the hardest part because I didn’t think you could keep someone like Elina. She stole pieces of you and held them to bend to her will. And she was about to do that to me, and I was too late to stop her. Even if wanted to, I didn’t think I could.

Her head was lying on my chest. Sometime afterward, she smothered herself all over me, so all I could breathe in was her. All I could feel or touch was her. Her hand started running up and down my sides.

“Do you think it could work?” she asked.

I didn’t answer her, because that was an impossible question, and not one I wanted to say out loud.

Chapter 18

Kazier

Present

It’s been a month, one month and I haven’t seen her at all. I expected her to come back, tell me that what he said wasn’t real, that it was all a lie, except I haven’t seen her. So it’s finally sinking in, and I’ve been slack, off my game. I even got Viktor stabbed because my mind was elsewhere. It needs to stop and be back into the here and now.

I’ve been searching for her. It’s hard, especially without going straight to the Bartalotti family and smashing through their door to find her. So I stake out, just to see if I can see her. I follow cars that leave the house, but not once have I spotted her. She’s gone back to being a ghost—I wonder if she is even real. Was it all a dream? I look to my hand, the red ink that reminds me she is real. That it’s all very much real. I
will
find her, it’s just a matter of time.

When I walk into my father’s home, most of the people are there. Freya stands and smiles at me, her seat right next to Viktor’s, and my father’s eyes honed in on that. The meeting was called to inform Viktor of his marriage to Freya. I don’t see anyone upset about this, especially Freya who watches him closely. Viktor, well he is Viktor, and he doesn’t watch anyone. He looks around, his eyes scanning then they stare, at nothing really. It’s like he dozes off with his eyes open, except we all know he’s on his game.

I take my seat next to Viktor, my father coming to the end of the table to take his chair. Anton sits across from me, and just as he’s about to speak, the door opens and in walks Death. Dressed in all black, his heavy boots thump on the marble floor loudly with each step he takes. He takes his seat in the remaining position next to Anton. Anton nods his head to Death, and Death ignores every person at the table, head down, picking at his fingernails. I don’t know why he’s here. He hates coming to anything family, the only place we see him is when we need something dealt with or cleaned up. His father is my father’s brother, so he is blood, except he prefers to stay out of everything. He wants no involvement in anything unless it’s killing or dismembering.

“Death,” my father addresses him. Death looks up and doesn’t utter a word. “You have served us well, but now it’s time to join your cousins. You have trained others in what you do, let them have it.”

I sit there like the words he spoke didn’t just leave his mouth. He thinks he still runs everything. I guess that’s partially my fault as well, letting him have the lead to do so. Except, Death is good at what he does. As a matter of fact, he shines at what he does, so I don’t understand why my father would want to pull him away from it. I watch the smirk that starts to rise, then fall as he looks to my father. His mouth is in a thin straight line, and I think if we weren’t sitting here my father would have a knife through his eye.

“Kazier,” Death says, looking right at my father, then turns his head to me. “You want this?”

I look around all eyes solely on me. My father’s face going red with anger written all over it. He should have known this day was coming, that soon his words of authority would be washed away, that they would no longer jump at his commands. He no longer does dirty work, so no respect or fear lies in him anymore.

“Don’t think you can undermine me, boy!”

At first, I think he’s talking to me, then I notice his eyes are firmly trained on Death. My father’s eyes then turn to me, flinty and filled with anger. “Three of you is not enough. Yes, you have an army, but it is three of you, all the time. You need another, Death is it. He’s the one that will make fear, especially those that don’t fear you. For example, your little play thing…” His eyebrow raises in a challenge, and I turn back to stare at Death. He sees the decision on my face, and his hands come down hard on the table before he stands.

“This is not me,” he hisses. “I would kill you all in your sleep, and enjoy tearing your bodies to pieces.” As the words leave his mouth, a loud bang echoes through the house.

Everyone looks over to the window and stands. Waiting to see what it was, guns are pulled from holsters, and steps are slow and quiet as they make their way to the front. Then as we reach the window, shots are fired. One buzzes straight past my head. I turn to see where everyone is, and the only people standing are myself and Death, his eyes trained on the window, a smirk rises on his face in anticipation. My father is right, he would bring the fear of death. He enjoys it more than anyone I’ve ever seen. In the face of danger, his eyes glisten with happiness. His body posture is tight and ready for every move.

My father is long gone, Viktor has his hands on Freya’s hip as he pushes her toward the back, away from the fire. Another bullet buzzes past me, shattering the whole window. Anton comes in behind, just as I turn to him a bullet hits my side, breaking my skin. I feel the blood that starts to drip down my side, and ignore it.

“You’re bleeding,” Death says, standing in front of the window, without a care in the world. Like one bullet couldn’t end his life if it flew in right now and punctured through his thick head.

“No shit!” I reply pulling the curtain back. He stands there for a second longer, then walks straight past me. Viktor’s back with gun in hand, looking out to where Death has gone then back to me. We stand there for a second, the shots stop, then we hear Death open the door. We turn to rush after him, but before we can reach the door, he’s gone. Then we hear the shots. One gun, firing bullets, one after the other. We dash outside to see Death walking slowly, loading his gun, and then emptying it in the car located at the front of the house. It’s not one of ours, and we know that’s where the bullets are coming from.

I look down, and in that split second, another bullet hits me knocking me back, then straight to the ground. The rest of the men start to shoot in quick succession. My eyes become blurry, I try to sit but a foot pushes me back down. I can’t make out who it is, and my voice won’t be heard over the loud rings of the rapid fire.

“Stop trying to get up, you dickhead,” Death says.

I know it’s him holding me down. I try to push his foot off me, then the fire stops. Silence fills the dark night sky. Just as I open my eyes, a throaty scream rips from my lips. Someone’s fingers are in the wound, and I can feel it as each one searches for the bullet. “How I would love to have you on my table,” he says.

I almost laugh at the situation. I hear their voices chiming in and out, while I fight for consciousness. I know it.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” someone yells from not too far away, but not close enough for me to make out who it is.

“Hold him down while I try to get the bullet out,” Death says. His fingers are still inside me. Just as my head hits the ground again, everything goes blank.

****

I wake to a hand in mine, it’s soft, unlike most hands that I’ve touched in my life. I open my eyes, most things are still blurry almost fuzzy. The hand squeezes mine and I know who it is by its size. Freya’s sitting next to me, her head hung back as if she’s asleep. I squeeze her hand tightly and watch as her eyes open to look to me.

“You’re awake,” she says in a small voice, pulling her hand from mine. “You’ve been asleep for at least twenty-four hours. You lost a lot of blood. Death got the bullet out, and your father called the family doctor,” she rushes as she explains.

I try to sit up and pain ravages through me. “The first bullet was only a flesh wound, the second one was a lot deeper. You have a few stitches and an IV to keep your fluids up,” she mumbles now looking up at the IV. I don’t even bother looking. I can feel it in my other hand, so I reach for it and pull it out.

Her eyes go wide as she tries to stop me. “Don’t Kazier…”

I drop back onto the bed, feeling like I haven’t slept the last day away. “Where are they?” I ask her, looking around.

She stands and walks to the door, opening it I watch Death walk in followed by Anton and Viktor. Viktor is looking at Death like he wants to throttle him.

“I got them all. Did you want to see?” Death asks, standing at the end of the bed.

Freya grabs my hand and squeezes it again.

“You got all of them?” I ask slightly confused.

Anton steps up, putting Death behind him. “Yes! After he got the bullet out, he left you to bleed out on the ground, and when we finally caught up with him he was slicing the throat of the driver while he was still in the car,” Anton says rolling his eyes at Death.

Death shrugs his shoulders like it’s a natural thing to do. To him, maybe it is.

“You killed them all?” I ask, stunned again.

Death nods his head before he speaks, “The one that shot you… I sliced open his stomach while he was on the ground, then inserted the bullet that I pulled from you.” He shrugs his shoulders again and turns to walk out the door. Viktor even looks shocked.

“At least he’s loyal,” Freya says, smiling at the door he just exited.

“When can I leave this bed,” I say pulling the IV away from my arm.

Freya walks over and pushes me back down. “When I say so.” The authority holds in her voice, and it stuns me at first so I lay back down.

I hope it’s not long till I find her! I won’t stop looking for Elina, not until I have her again.

Chapter
19

Kazier

For one whole month I was stuck in that bed, only being able to do light duties. By the following month I was out again, hunting, and having no luck with no leads what-so-ever. I searched anywhere and just about everywhere.

The men became sick of it, but I will find her, I know I will. She can’t hide forever, it’s impossible.

Freya walks into my apartment, dressed up. I stand there with my mouth open. She has a short dress on, heels, and her hair is curled. I whistle at her, and she walks over and punches me in the arm. I pull her to me and cuddle her. Freya has become one of my best friends. Someone who forces themselves onto you because they actually care. She’s visited most days, cooked for me, which I kindly asked her to never do again as I almost died from that, and kept me company when thoughts of Elina would haunt me.

“The car is ready,” she says reaching for her bag from the table. She wants to go out, a first for her. She never was allowed to go out to public places before. So for her birthday we plan to show her a good night. I follow her down the stairs, the boys are waiting at the end of the balustrade. Outside, standing in front of the car is Death with a sour look on his face, obviously not impressed he has to go out. Maybe he needs some pussy.

Freya’s leg bounces for almost the whole car ride. Excitement fills her, plus there’s a bottle of vodka between her legs. When we stop, I shake my head, it’s the last place I expected for us go—Stephon’s club. The first place I ever saw Elina.

“It’s the safest place to take her,” Anton says as we exit the car. I want to tell him, apart from the fact that I’m not welcome in here anymore, except I don’t push it. I know I could force Stephon to do what I wanted if I really had to. After all, he is my family, and his mother is under my protection.

We all walk straight to a private booth, bottles of vodka already stocked and ready for consumption when we sit. Freya takes a seat in the middle, all the boys surround her. I sometimes wonder if she has any female friends, she always seems to be with us now. All she has here as far as I know was her cousins, and now they’re gone.

“You have to drink, too,” Freya says handing a glass around to each of us. We all take one and have a drink, feeling the need to interact with her so as to not make it the worst birthday she’s ever had.

As she starts to pour another round, Viktor stands to block the way of someone. Freya notices and pulls him back down, her arms wrap around a woman who looks to be her age, but slightly bigger than her small frame. She pulls back from her and turns to us. The girl has long sandy colored hair which is down and covers a lot of her face. Her hand skirts up and that’s when I notice a scar on her cheek like she was cut deep, very deep. She smiles at us and not once does she cower. Her eyes land on Death last, and they brighten. She offers her hand to each of us, introducing herself as Angelina. Death looks to it then looks the other way, ignoring her completely. But when she sits down, he looks back at her when no one is watching. She must intrigue him, which is weird, because she seems bubbly and happy, which is the complete opposite of him.