Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya) (37 page)

“You realize, Kendall, that I get retribution now, right? I know you have heard the stories, probably from your own father about me. Is that why you’ve become so infatuated with me?”

She adopts her naïve, innocent expression and attempts to appear coy with him. “Retribution for what, Viktor? Daddy said we were meant for each other, so I was only taking care of this pest for you.”

Viktor’s eyes widen. “Meant for each other? That’s positively ludicrous. You don’t have a chance; you’re not even on my radar, Kendall.” He turns toward her man and raises Kendall’s gun—“You took a very close guard from me”—and shoots her guard right center in his forehead.

The guard drops to the ground and I swallow forcefully. Kendall starts laughing like a hyena and looks at me happily. She really is insane.

She nods to me, grinning. “Look at her, Viktor! She can’t even handle a kill! I’m not worried about it, he was just a guard. I will easily get another.”

Viktor glares at her as if he wants to kill her. “Consider this is your only warning. Tell your father that next time I will not hesitate to kill you.” Viktor nods to Alexei and he starts to drag her toward the door, she giggles as he does and it shoots chills down my body.

That chick is a complete Looney Tunes. I’m now sure that she wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot me. She gave off that impression when we were fighting in the car, but one can always hope that the other person is not as bad as they appear. I don’t know how Viktor does it. He looked completely blank when he pulled that trigger. I know he said he ran the Bratva, but it feels like that title is really hitting me full force right now. I like to think he would never hurt me like that, but he looked completely zoned out. It didn’t affect him at all to pull that trigger. I may be on the tougher side, but I could never kill anyone like that. What on earth have I gotten myself into?

I notice the guard’s blood and cough, rushing to the side of the vehicle. I regurgitate everything left in my stomach all over Viktor’s shiny grey, speckled garage floor. After blowing chunks for a few minutes I feel a hand on my back.

I can’t help but cringe away. I can’t be touched right now, especially by a hand that brought someone pain. The guy was bad, here to hurt me, but it still screws with my head.

Viktor murmurs and it brings tears to my eyes. “Moy lyooBOF, paZHAALoosta?” (My love, please)

I have no clue what it means, but the Russian sounds so beautiful, it flows out of his mouth like water flows down a stream. Hiccupping, I take in his features. Even after committing murder, he’s beautiful. His hazel eyes stare longingly at me, worried and sad. Why? I have no idea, but I’m curious.

“What, Viktor?” I tremble and the first tear makes its way down my flushed cheeks.

He reaches his hand toward me slowly, cautiously, gazing at me fearfully. “Please, don’t fear me, Elaina,” he replies softly.

Nodding, I reach out and accept his hand. I know I should be more cautious, but he promised long ago to never hurt me. Viktor promised my sister and Tate, I know this, Emily told me. I have to trust that, right? My gut tells me he will protect me and to go to him. My gut usually tells the truth, I’m not sure yet about my heart, and lord knows my mind is torn on what to do.

He pulls me toward him. I hop over the puke and let him clutch me tightly to his chest. He whispers something into my hair but I can’t hear him over my sobs. It’s surreal, like I have no idea I’m even crying this hard. I didn’t pull the trigger, so why is it affecting me so strongly?

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay, Princess. Calm down, it’s over with now,” he says as he delicately pets my hair. It’s soothing and after a few moments, I’m able to slow the flow of tears and catch my breath. I hate being a mess and not being able to pull myself together right away. I’m usually pretty decent at hiding my emotions. I guess murder is my breaking point. God. Murder.

We’re all going to go to jail now. Fuck. I can’t believe this, I wonder if the cops are on their way right now. Did anyone hear that gun shot? The neighbors aren’t that close, but still the garage had to have echoed. Damn, I wish I could hear if there are sirens coming. What can I do? Run? Yeah right.

No, this is Viktor, he said he cleans stuff up and takes care of things. The way he looked, surely he knows what to do. He’ll know how to clean this up and, knowing his stubbornness, he will take care of everything. I need to chill out and see if he will tell me his plan.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask foggily, gazing past him to the ceiling. I can’t focus on him right now, I’m scared what I may find in his eyes if I look at them right now.

“Lovely, this is Bratva business. I will fix it and keep you safe.” I blink, cataloging his scruffy jaw while he speaks then stare off solemnly for a few moments. Right, this is his business.

“I just don’t know what to think right now,” I utter and he nods understandingly at me.

“I know, and we will discuss it more later. For now we need to get into the car. Alexei and Spartak are coming with us. My house has obviously been compromised. I had the alarm off for ten minutes and that loophole was utilized by my enemies. I will not take any more chances with your safety. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you,” he says kindly and helps me back into his Jaguar.

The guys load up and next thing I know we are driving along through hills full of trees. I have no clue how long we drive, but it feels like I stare out of the window for hours.

EIGHT

ELAINA

I must have fallen asleep during the ride,
because I awake
drowsy and confused. I take in my strange surroundings. We’re parked in front of a beautiful little log cabin, and it appears to be surrounded by forest.

There’s a small private gravel drive that ends in front of the charming little porch. It has four steps leading up to the door and a hanging bench swing off to the side. I bet it would be amazing to sit out here on the swing in the morning, sipping a sweet coffee or hot chocolate.

It feels like we are enclosed into our own little bubble. The trees and bushes make a natural curtain around us. There’s a detached garage or shop building off to the side, and a little toward the back of the cabin, all along the side is lined with rows upon rows of chopped wood.

“Miss Elaina?” I’m brought out of my thoughts by Spartak.

“Yes, Spartak? Where are we?”

“Come inside please, ma’am. The boss had me wait out here until you awoke, but wants you inside as soon as possible.”

“He made you wait for me? That’s crazy! Where are we exactly?”

“We are at Mr. Masterson’s cabin.”

“You don’t say? Clearly I can see we’re at his cabin! I meant as in
here
here. Where are we? Are we even in Tennessee still?” I ask dramatically and he blushes a little.

“Oh. Yes. We are just in the mountains, didn’t leave the state or anything. You actually weren’t asleep for that long.”

“Hmm, it feels like it. I thought we drove for forever.” I slide across the leather seat and make my way out of the car.

Poor guy has been stuck on babysitting duty for me again. Ugh, my neck is stiff and my jaw is sore. It must be from Kendall. I have no idea what to do about her and I don’t want to even think about it right now. I need to find Viktor and figure out what he plans on us doing.

I glance over at Spartak as I make my way to the porch stairs. “Say, Spartak?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He looks over at me curiously and follows me up the stairs.

“Where is Viktor anyhow?”

“He’s inside handling business.”

I step to the side for Spartak to enter first. “What is his business, anyhow?”

“He has a storage business.”

“Sure, if that’s what you call it.”

He smirks a little at me then shakes his head, locking the thick wood door securely behind me.

The inside of the cabin is just as fairytalesque as the outside. I wouldn’t have believed in a thousand years this was Viktor’s had I not driven here with him. His house seemed very plain and sterile; whereas here it’s quaint and homey feeling.

There’s a giant fireplace as the focal point with a large square rug in front of it. The tan couches look more worn than new, but the kind of worn where you know they are really comfortable. A few wooden side tables with lamps and coasters resting on them are placed conveniently around the couches. There are family photos all along the decorative mantle, many of Viktor and Tate. They seem to be so different, yet so alike at the same time.

The living area is open and leads into a cozy kitchen. The kitchen is decorated in a wine theme, with matching pictures and hand towels to coordinate. I can’t make out much more besides a wooden staircase and a hallway. I’m guessing the bedrooms are upstairs.

“Does he come here a lot?” I gesture around the living room, taking in all the small details.

“When he gets some time off he does, especially in the summer. This is Mishka’s favorite place.”

“Oh! That’s his gran, right? I think that’s the name Emily had told me was hers.”

“Yep, she comes sometimes and will cook for us, good Russian meals. I haven’t eaten like that since I was last in Russia with my family.”

“Wow, Russia! When were you in Russia last?” I hear Viktor on the phone as he comes closer to the living room, he tells whomever he’s speaking to that they need to hold on for just a second.

“Elaina, that’s enough. Spartak, go do a perimeter check,” Viktor barks and I scowl at him in return.

“We were having a conversation,” I bite back and Spar looks like a deer trapped in headlights. I see his Adam’s apple bob quickly as he gulps and rushes toward the door. I don’t know what that was all about but whatever. He may boss Spartak around all the time, but he’s lost his marbles if he thinks I’m okay with him talking to me that way.

“Yes, I will get back to you,” Viktor says in a monotone voice to the caller and hits end, pocketing the cell phone.

He looks at me, amused, then steps closer, adopting the look of a hunter stalking his prey. He circles around me and I stand stock still, waiting for the yelling or anger to come. Whatever I did, Spartak sure was quick to bolt. Thanks, friend. If it ever comes down to it, I guess I know who my allies are.

I feel warm breath close to my ear, caressing my skin, giving me goose bumps, and my stomach flip flops crazily. I draw in a deep silent gasp of air, holding it, trying to be as still as possible. I don’t have a clue why I’m still trying to not move, but it just seems like the right thing to do. Like when you’re faced with a powerful beast and you’re told to stand still so as to not provoke it. This man makes my body go wild for him, stirring up emotions and feelings I’ve never encountered before.

In a raspy rumble close to my ear he says, “You don’t need to be nosing in his business. You are here for me, not him.” He licks up the outer shell of my ear and I squeak slightly, licking my lips in return. It’s like a conditioned response, picturing him licking me in
other
places.

“Now, be a good girl and go wash up for dinner. Bathroom’s through there.” He brushes along my arm to point and I shudder in response to his nearness.

I nod silently and rush to the restroom. Holy shit, that man completely throws me off balance. I can’t even remember what I was saying to him before he licked my ear. Damn it!

Viktor

I practically hung up on Tate when I saw Elaina all wispy-eyed talking to Spartak. I’m glad she appreciates his company but if I see them getting too close I will assign him to another detail and put my next best man with her. I know I should trust her, but it’s in my blood not to trust anyone entirely.

Thankfully my little trick at the bar worked. Since I made her a manager she should mainly be in the office and won’t have to bartend unless someone doesn’t show up. For me that means no more watching pathetic idiots checking her out on a daily basis. There have been plenty of times when I have wanted to sink one of those fools in the lake.

Enough of that, I need to prepare my love some dinner. I think she has it in her head that I don’t know how to cook. Is it wrong of me that I almost want to pretend like I don’t know how? That way she will make me a nice meal. I know she would, too. I probably wouldn’t even have to ask her for it.

Opening the stainless steel refrigerator, I scan the contents. This may be a cabin, decorated to Mishka’s standards, but I refuse to not have top of the line appliances. I have some stew meat and veggies, whipping cream, strawberries; I can definitely make something up with this.

Mishka must have sent some fresh foods up this week. I usually have a groundskeeper that helps maintain the place while I’m away. Luckily Mishka is sweet on him so she sends up fresh foods frequently. He’ll enjoy having the next few days off and I’ll have peace of mind knowing Elaina is safe with me.

I’m preparing a nice stew for the main dish with fresh baked bread my grandmother made recently. The strawberries and fresh whipping cream will go splendid afterwards. I hope Elaina enjoys it.

I didn’t even stop to think about asking what foods she likes to eat. I see her sneak a cherry or orange at the club occasionally, and I’ve seen her eat at my brother’s a few times, but she just picked at her food.

I grab the bottle of vodka from the freezer, pouring half a tumbler full and gulping down a good portion of it. I can’t even fathom the fact that I’m nervous right now. Since when does Viktor Masterson get nervous over anything? Well, other than making sure Elaina is protected. There was the time I was at lunch and also when she freaked out at her apartment. Christ, maybe she really does make me nervous.

“Viktor?” Elaina calls hesitantly and I spin around to face her.

“Yes, Printsyessa?” (Princess)

“Are you cooking right now or is someone here?” She walks into the kitchen glancing over everything nosily. She’s never been much of a curious cat, more standoffish than anything. This new side she’s showing me is quite amusing.

“Of course it’s me, why is it so strange to believe the idea of me cooking? Surely you must know that men cook.”