Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles (4 page)

BOOK: Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles
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Seven

F
awn

H
is place
—I assumed it was an apartment, maybe a town house, but there didn’t seem to be any neighbors around—had been quiet, still, and I feared I might go mad from the whirling thoughts buzzing through my brain. Was it insane to stay with him, more insane than trying to avoid David? Was I really so weak I needed to hide behind a stranger? At least I knew the answer to that question was a resounding yes, and I wasn’t ashamed, not really. The risk of David finding me was too great; I’d stay as long as Vasile let me.

That realization gave me peace, and somehow I had managed to sleep. The comfort of knowing David wasn’t here, wouldn’t burst in yelling about some slight or another while I slept allowed me to rest, really rest, more than I had since the day I’d met him all those years ago.

I woke slowly, my mind coming to wakefulness piece by piece, not immediately snapping into thought about how I would evade punishment. After stretching languorously, I walked toward the bathroom, the solitude and quiet of this place welcome now and not something that made me fearful. That would change when he came home.

“Vasile Petran.”

Though I was alone, I said his name out loud, let the foreign sounds roll across my tongue. My pronunciation wasn’t quite right, and I couldn’t make my voice mimic the smooth way the name had fallen from his lips, but I smiled anyway at the little sizzle of warmth that lighted through me when I said it.

Feeling surprisingly buoyant, I stared at myself in the mirror. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but even I could see the difference in myself. I looked unburdened. For the first time in years, I could breathe. And all because of Vasile.

I looked around the nice but spartan bathroom and found thick black towels folded neatly. I grabbed one, stepped into the shower, and as the ice-cold and then steaming-hot water blasted me, I scrubbed myself. Wiped the remnants of makeup from my face. Shampooed my hair, uncaring I’d have no way to tame the mass of twisted curls once it dried. Washed every inch of my sienna-colored skin until it was raw and deep red under brown, unconcerned with the abrasions, not if it meant eliminating every trace of David.

A cliché, ridiculous even, but after I finished, I felt as if I was almost Fawn again and not whatever zombie David had constructed.

Of course, the newly emerged Fawn did not have anything to wear, something I didn’t consider until I stood naked in the middle of his bathroom floor. With barely a glance at the black dress, I dismissed it immediately. Never again would anything of David’s touch me.

I stepped into the main living area, more than halfway hoping a fully stocked closet would materialize. When that didn’t happen, I turned my gaze to the drawer from which Vasile had taken the T-shirt. I walked toward it slowly, unsure what to do. I didn’t want to intrude or snoop. There was no way I would ever cross a man like him, but even more, I didn’t want to betray his kindness with invasion.

Still…as nice as his towels were, they weren’t quite cutting it and left a thigh, hip, and breast mostly uncovered. It probably wasn’t a problem for him. I bet the towels fit around his trim waist with ease, but I had no such luck. I chuckled at the thought and then headed to the dresser. Without looking too closely, I groped at the garments and pulled out another black T-shirt and a pair of underwear.

I threw on both garments quickly, worried the tight squeeze of the underwear on my hips would call attention to my ass, that the thin material of the T-shirt would put more emphasis on my unrestrained breasts. But then I shrugged and laughed again when my breasts moved. My curves didn’t need attention called to them, so what I wore wouldn’t make a difference. This would have to do, though I didn’t dare look in the mirror.

Moments later, there was a firm knock at the door and then the
click
of the lock. I stood in the middle of the floor, feet bare, dressed in his underwear and waited. Vasile didn’t strike me as a person who knocked, especially not in his own home, but I appreciated it, found that something so simple bolstered my belief that maybe, possibly, at least for a little while, I’d be safe here.

His gaze found me instantly, and he watched, face unreadable. I was struck with the impulse to pat my hair, turn my shoulders in as if that would somehow help me escape his intense gaze. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but being looked at like that, like I was a person and not a possession wasn’t something I was used to.

Long, commanding strides carried him to the dresser, and I spoke quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. I just needed something to wear.”

His back was to me now, his shoulders impossibly broad, his entire being impossibly formidable, and more importantly in this moment, making it impossible for me to tell what he was doing. The fear that had receded started to come back. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking when he looked at me, but seeing his face comforted me somehow, and with his back turned to me, I could tell nothing, was left to the mercy of my rising fear.

“Come here,” he said, his back still turned, his voice icy.

I approached, each step making my heart beat faster until it boomed when I finally reached him.

“Wear this,” he said, nodding at a pair of black jogging pants and black socks.

My knees weakened with my relief, and I quickly grabbed them and put them on, the fit poor, but at least they covered me more.

Then he shoved a stack of bills into my hands. “Natasha will take you to buy clothes. The car is outside.”

And just that quickly, my relief fled and my heart dropped into my stomach. I looked down at the bills in my hands, bitter disappointment, strong and surprising, stirring in my chest. He’d rid me of David’s costume and now he was going to replace it with his own.

“Is there something in particular you’d like?” I asked on a quiet whisper.

I’d learned nothing over the years, had let a few hours of soft treatment erase years of lessons. But I knew what I was good for, all that I was good for, and it was stupid of me to—

“Did you hear me?”

His voice broke into my thoughts, and I turned my eyes to him, watching as he watched me.

I shook my head.

“Buy whatever you like,” he said.

And then he walked into the bathroom, leaving me alone.

I again stared at the wad of bills in my hands, even more confused now than I’d been before.

And even worse, I wondered if I remembered what I liked. It had been so long since anyone, including myself, had asked what I liked that I was very much out of practice.

But the car was waiting, so, wearing only socks I had gotten from him, I made my way outside.

F
awn

A slick black limo
sat next to the car that I’d arrived here in, and as I walked toward it, curiosity sparked. I had no idea who Natasha was and was more than intrigued as I opened the door and got inside the dark interior of the limo.

The first thing I saw was the ravishingly beautiful woman who sat regally, back straight, dark hair cascading down her shoulders in luxurious waves, head tilted to show her features in their most flattering light. I’d met women like her before, but few who could pull off her aura so convincingly.

“It’s good that we’re going shopping. You need it,” she said, her voice softly accented.

Her words were matter-of-fact, almost cruel, but I felt strangely comforted, especially when she flashed a quick smile, one that I returned.

“I do,” I said as the limo pulled off. “I’m Fawn.”

She nodded. “Interesting name. It fits you. I am Natasha.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

She quirked a brow, and I smiled. It was true. I wasn’t exactly pleased, but for some reason, I wasn’t displeased either. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“I think you don’t want to dress like that,” she said, indicating my cobbled-together outfit.

“No.” I shook my head. “No I don’t.”

“We’ll find something that you like then. Him too,” she said mischievously, looking at me with an expression that dared me to contradict her implication.

I clenched my mouth shut, and she must have picked up on the change for she smiled a bit brighter.

“You don’t want him?”

I looked away from her piercing blue gaze, choosing to ignore the question. I didn’t know what I felt. He scared the crap out of me, but he’d been kind to me. And I couldn’t deny his physical appeal.

“It’s okay. It’s just us girls,” she whispered as if she was trying to coax secrets from me.

“You talk this way about your husband with other women?” I said, expressing the realization that had just occurred to me.

Then I closed my mouth again quickly, cursing myself for having spoken out of turn.

But Natasha simply laughed, her small frame moving with the sound. “You think he…? That Vasile is my husband?” she asked.

I nodded faintly, which triggered another wave of laughter.

“No. He is not mine or anyone else’s. Never will be.”

I told myself that the relief that filled me was simply because I had spared her the insult of what could only be the reasonable conclusion of me leaving his home dressed in his clothes. It was simply that and nothing else.

The conversation was mercifully cut short when the limo pulled to a stop.

“We’re here,” she said, stepping out of the car. I followed suit, but felt clumsy and unwieldy next to her.

She walked toward a small boutique, and I watched as an older woman opened the door and ushered us in.

When we entered, I looked around the place, one of those fancy stores that seemed mostly empty. And when I glanced at the clothes that hung on the racks, embarrassment slithered up my spine.

“Natasha.” She turned, eying me patiently. “This stuff won’t fit me,” I said.

She looked me up and down, letting her gaze caress my body. “I’ll handle it. Eat,” she said, gesturing toward the platter of fruit, crackers, and cheese that was laid out on a nearby table.

My stomach rumbled, but the embarrassment fled in the face of suddenly ravenous hunger. It had been nearly more than a day since my last meal. I headed for the table.

Eight

F
awn


N
o
, Natasha,” I said.

At the sight of her pouty expression, I almost giggled, but managed to hold firm. She held the chiffon negligee in front of her as if doing so would convince me.

“You have the assets for it,” she said, lowering her gaze to linger on my breasts and hips. “You could seduce any man in this.” She added a hilarious waggle of her eyebrows to the end of the sentence.

“I’m not trying to seduce anyone,” I said.

“Of course you are. It’s the way we survive,” she said turning solemn, and while I didn’t want to acknowledge it, there was truth in what she said.

After I’d unapologetically stuffed myself with fruit and crackers and watched Natasha polish off half a bottle of champagne, which seemed to have no effect at all, I had begun to enjoy my time with her, laughing at her outrageous suggestions, amused by her quick wit, able to pretend for just a little while I was a normal girl out with a friend and not ensnared in a world of darkness, that I was more than a commodity.

But that enjoyment was lessened at the cold reality of Natasha’s words. I knew better than most, probably even her, that my value was only measured by the pleasure that I gave, the pain I could withstand. And this little excursion, as fun as it had been, would not change that. I was as I had always been: a man’s property. That I’d chosen to be so willingly this time, even though I’d sworn that if I ever got away from David I’d never belong to anyone again, sent a rush of shame through me.

“Don’t be sad, Fawn,” she said, laying a hand on my shoulder, the act a representation of how we’d become fast friends. “He can be very kind.”

“Cruel too,” I said, a statement and not a question.

“Very. But sometimes and only when given cause.”

“And he decides what’s cause?”

She nodded. “But it is always that way for women like us.”

“Like us?” I asked, some of my dour mood fading at the hope I might have found a kindred spirit.

Natasha regarded me. “Like us. Your last one, he was very bad, yes? Bad enough that Vasile took you?”

I nodded, though I couldn’t say for sure why he’d done what he had.

“I haven’t suffered as much as you, but it’s the same. Vasile takes care of me now, but it’s just a matter of time until I belong to another. I just hope that when it finally happens, it’s someone I want, not whoever is around.”

She looked at me then, seeming younger, almost naive, so different than her coquettish speech and demeanor suggested. “Your father, did he give you to the man who had you before Vasile?”

If only it had been so simple. If only I had someone other than myself, something other than my own naïveté and stupidity to blame.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I finally said, breaking her gaze.

She nodded, patted my shoulder. “Maybe one day.”

I doubted it, but I nodded.

“So this is all you’re going to buy?”

I looked down at the small pile of clothing. A couple of pairs of jeans, some Capri pants, a few underthings, and long-sleeved T-shirts. “Yes. It’s more than enough.”

“As you wish. We should return,” she said.

She patted my hand one last time.

V
asile

“Where is she?”
Sorin asked as he practically barreled past me to get inside, looking around the room like an eager puppy.

“I sent Fawn out with Natasha. Oleg is driving,” I said.

“Fawn? What kind of name is that?” he asked.

“Why are you here, Sorin?” I replied, changing the subject.

He nodded, and in an instant went serious, eyes going from laughing dark blue to deadly focused.

“What you suspected was right,” he said, voice laced with venom.

“You’ve confirmed it?” I asked.

“Personally. Do you want me to handle it?”

I shook my head. “I’ll take care of it. Have everyone gather day after tomorrow,” I said.

“You’re going to make him sweat,” he said, eyes gleaming with malice.

“If he’s done nothing wrong, he’ll have no reason to sweat. And if he has…” I shrugged.

“What if he runs?” Sorin asked.

“Then I’ll chase him down like the dog that he is. And besides, he has already disgraced his family name. Do you think he would bring further shame to them?”

“You never know,” Sorin said.

“You don’t,” I agreed.

This was an unfortunate truth of the business. Most of Clan Petran were strong, solid, respected our rules and traditions. And if nothing else, this would be a good reminder for them to continue to do so.

“What else?” I asked, noting the tension that still radiated from Sorin.

“Vargas has consolidated the rest of the Peruvians. He’s effectively distributing for the entire city,” he said as he retrieved a beer from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter.

“And?” I asked, knowing where this conversation was headed.

“And that wasn’t what the clans agreed to.”

“We’ve never been in the business of managing others, Sorin. What the Peruvians do is not our concern unless it becomes our concern,” I said.

“Even after Vargas disrespected you?” he asked scornfully.

“Yes, even after.”

“You shouldn’t let that go,” Sorin grumbled.

I shook my head. “You’re grown now. Act like it, and use your brain. If Vargas had gone too far, I would have handled it, but what do I get by interfering now?”

“For one, you’d make sure everyone knows not to fuck with Clan Petran. And it’s stupid to give up all that money,” he said.

“Everyone knows not to fuck with us. And drug money, Sorin.”

“Yeah, drug money is money,” he said, looking at me indignantly.

We’d had this conversation countless times, and I hadn’t ever budged.

“Think. What would we have to gain by taking that business?”

“Money,” he said as if the answer was self-evident.

“And what would we have to lose?” I asked, raising the same point I had so often before.

Sorin went silent, his clenched jaw flexing. It was always that way with him. He rarely thought about consequences, infrequently slowed to consider the repercussions.

I broke the silence. “Why would we take the risk of the Peruvian drug operation when we can let them do all the work and get 15 percent of the profits?”

“Fifteen percent is nothing. We could have more,” he said.

“And it would never be enough. How many other clans thought the same, started with the drug trade, only to disintegrate? How many proud families have been brought to their knees by greed and infighting over pieces of the drug pie? That won’t happen to Clan Petran. Not while I’m in charge. I’m going to prove it the day after tomorrow, but I’m reminding you now.”

Sorin took another swallow and tilted his head, as much of an acknowledgment as he’d give me, I knew. But I didn’t need to belabor the point. We’d seen it happen countless times, had lost our father in the crossfire of such a skirmish.

“And it’s not like we’re in the poor house. We have fights, the clubs, the rent,” I said.

“That shit’s boring,” he said.

“We don’t do this for excitement, Sorin.”

“You don’t,” he replied.

“That’s right. My baby brother does it so that he can beat people up and chase girls. That’s the exciting life you love, eh?”

I crossed the room and clapped him on the shoulder, his exuberance lightening my spirit like always, even when he was being a troublemaker.

“Those are perks,” he said with a smile before he again turned serious. “I know why we do it.”

“Because we are clan,” I said, echoing words that had filled our ears since birth.

A faint, timid knock at the door broke the moment. Sorin’s eyes flashed with excitement.

“She’s here!” he exclaimed.

“Why are you so excited?” I asked.

“She got your attention.
Yours.
My brother, who is so detached he barely seems alive, the one who hasn’t looked at a woman in as long as I can remember. I have to see her,” he said.

He bounded across the room and opened the door, but I stayed in place. Sorin was right. I did avoid attachments, kept focused on my business. And I still hadn’t figured out what about her had made me break from that pattern.

“Oh!”

Fawn’s soft exclamation was followed by Natasha’s impatient huff.

“Let us in, Sorin,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He moved aside, and Fawn entered carrying three bags. I couldn’t help but look at her, the conservative jeans and T-shirt she wore so different, but so much better than that ridiculous black dress.

“Thank you, Natasha,” I said before she came in. “Oleg will take you home.”

A fleeting disappointment filled her expression but then she smiled that trademark seductive grin. “Of course. It was lovely, Fawn,” she said and then left.

“A beautiful name,” Sorin said, grinning from ear to ear.

Fawn just looked up at him, expression wary. If Sorin noticed, he didn’t care, and instead pulled her into a brief hug, kissed each of her cheeks, and then rested his hands on her shoulders, openly assessing her. I was prepared to intervene, the look of shock on Fawn’s face driving me toward them, but Sorin dropped his hands from her shoulders.

“I am Sorin Petran, the handsome brother. It is an honor to meet you,” he said.

“Day after tomorrow,” I called in Romanian, and Sorin nodded.

“Good-bye, Fawn,” he said, and then she and I were alone.

She blinked and then turned back to the door before looking at me again.

“Sorin is…excitable, but harmless,” I said, choosing to expand the truth for her benefit.

Her eyes widened.

“What is it?” I asked.

She looked down sharply.

“Fawn, what is it?” I repeated.

Her lips turned up and she met my eyes. “You smile when you talk about him,” she said.

Almost automatically, I raised my hand to my face and found that I had indeed begun to smile, and it occurred to me Sorin might not be the reason. A troubling development, and one I would ignore for the moment.

“Is that all you bought?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yes.” Then she walked toward me, fumbling in her jeans’ pocket. “Here,” she said when she’d retrieved the cash. “Your change.”

I waved it away.

“No. Please,” she said. “It’s a lot, and if I add that, it’ll take me even longer to pay you back. I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to start.”

She hooded her eyes then, the huskiness of her voice having created an implication she hadn’t intended, one that I hadn’t realized until just this moment I might like.

“Keep it,” I said firmly.

We stood for moments longer, Fawn clearly warring with whether to object, but she finally relented. “I will pay you back,” she said with the most certainty I’d ever heard her say anything.

“As you wish,” I said.

Later, when it was time to sleep, she looked at the bed and then me, eyes wary as they’d been the night before. It angered me.

“If I wanted to rape you, I could have a thousand times over,” I said in a gruff voice that was a near growl.

She looked stricken, and then to my surprise, apologetic. “I—It’s just that, people always want things.”

“People like me?” I asked, voice scornful.

She nodded. “Yes. People like you. And people like David. Nothing in this life is free, Vasile,” she said, sounding both wise and weary, something that made me want to hold her close and protect her because I knew what she said was true. The instinct was completely foreign to me, one I didn’t dare act on but one that I couldn’t ignore either.

“Don’t say his name here,” I said.

She immediately nodded her assent, and I continued, “You can take care of this place to repay me.”

“Okay.” She smiled and nodded almost happily. Then she closed the distance between us but stopped before she reached me. She extended her hand slowly, let her fingers rest against my wrist for the briefest moment.

“Thank you, Vasile,” she said. Then she moved quickly to climb into bed, the pants and long-sleeved T-shirt she wore quite different than yesterday’s attire, but still doing nothing to disguise the lush curves of her body.

When she’d settled, she looked toward me expectantly.

“I’ll sleep later,” I said and then turned abruptly and headed to the bathroom.

I considered myself a logical man, one not subject to emotions or raging passions, but Fawn was challenging that belief as the iron-hard erection her simple touch had spawned proved. Yes, she’d been through things, had shown glimpses of a woman familiar with the griminess of the world, something I respected, but this reaction to her was unexpected.

After working my pants around my cock and down, I got into the shower, hoping it would cool me.

It did not.

Thoughts of her full lips had me lifting my hand. Thoughts of the long column of her neck, the soft-looking skin there had me closing my hand around my shaft. And thoughts of the bounty of her body laid out before me, a near-endless series of curves and valleys to explore had me sliding my hand down for the first stroke.

BOOK: Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles
9.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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