3. Ciro
3
CIRO
“D ie, Diamante scum!” The shout accompanies the knuckles that take me right in the cheek. Good thing I’m good at taking a hit these days.
My body is in motion with the momentum of the strike, my hands blocking the slash I know is coming next. With a whip of my fingers, I disarm the knife, numb the attacker’s wrist, and spin him away from us.
Matvey tumbles to the ground, laughing painfully.
“Fuck! Even with guard down, I can’t get you, Ci!”
“You hit me just fine. You’re lucky I know your fist so well or I might have delivered a fatal blow.”
“You can certainly blow me, da ?” Mat rolls to his feet, bobbing on his toes like a boxer.
“Only if you kiss my ass.”
“We will have plenty of time for such things. We are neighbors!” He points to the two rooms to the right.
“Ugh. I see a bullet did not do anything to make you less…you.” Vanya sighs, her hands on her hips. “You two together? This is trouble.”
“Ah, come on, sis, don’t be oblom. You always say I need to make friends!”
“Sis?” I ask, already realizing the similarities. How did I not see it before? Oh. Right. Prison. Death. Plus, they have different hair color. The eyes are the same, though. And the gestures. The almost smile and the stern, flat stare that they both level at me when I’m being…me.
“Holy shit, you are siblings,” I state the obvious, at a loss for a joke.
“Twins, actually.” Mat grimaces.
“We have more in common than I thought.” Fiero’s face flashes through my head. I miss that morose mother fucker.
Shaking the thoughts away before I go straight to sappy shit town, I take in the rooms. Simple. Spartan. A cot, a dresser. Way better than the prison, though.
Maybe they did that on purpose so they could skimp on accommodations. Feels like a palace after hell.
“So, this is his home sweet home from now on. Huh?”
“The one on the left is mine. I already moved my mattress down from the house,” Mat snickers.
“You are the most spoiled initiate we’ve ever had.”
“Hey, I had to practically beg Pyotr to go to the Gulag.”
“You already proved your place here,” Vanya scoffs, shaking her head. “Not sure why you insisted.”
“I am not entitled brat like you.” Mat sniffs.
“Why wouldn’t you stay in the house, dipshit?” I ask, genuinely baffled.
“He has a, how you say? Potato on his shoulder?” Vanya muses. I desperately wish I had a beverage to spit across the room.
“Chip, I think you mean chip.” Good God, now I know how my twin felt all those years correcting my terrible memory.
Although Ero would have said, “It’s chip on your shoulder, fuckwit.”
Makes a guy homesick.
“Yes, chip. Matvey was sickly as a little child. Papa made him wait to train and tested him in other ways. Now that he is manchild instead of baby boy, he thinks he needs to show everyone he can do it.”
“Maybe I just wanted to meet your boyfriend. Not every day the Volchitsa picks a candidate. Actually, you are the first and only, Ciro.”
Vanya lashes out faster than I thought possible, chopping Mat in the throat. To his credit, he almost gets his hand up in time. The taller man doubles over, choking and spitting, his breath rasping somewhere between a cough and a laugh.
“Wait a minute…You sent him in there to watch me, didn’t you?!” I wheel on Vanya, pointing a finger. I jerk it back just in time to avoid her breaking it.
“Do not get big dick over this. All of Volk in the Gulag report back on progress of plebs to me.”
“So much for the vote of confidence.”
“Uh oh, sestra , you hurt leetle malysh’s feelings!”
“She can call me baby anytime she wants,” I mutter, ducking into my room as Vanya grumbles behind me. It needs some work, for sure. Not that I was ever neat and tidy, but I’ve always liked things…a certain way. Probably because Adriano always made us keep our quarters spotless.
Captain asshat.
Miss that fucker too. I hope he and Gloria are far away on a beach somewhere.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I listen to the siblings outside my door bicker over who knows what in Russian for a few moments, content to catch my breath. Until my stomach suddenly rumbles loudly.
“Sounds like someone needs dinner,” Mat snickers, leaning in the doorway.
“I could eat.”
“Then we go to mess hall.”
“Will you be joining us?”
“Nah, Vanya does not like to eat with the men often.”
“Oh yeah? Too good for us lowly soldiers, Van?”
“Nonsense. I am happy to eat with anyone. I simply…”
“Stay far away from the barracks when Fyodor is around,” Matvey taunts, wagging his eyebrows. “He’s got it in his head that she is for him.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mat! I can handle Fyodor just fine,” Vanya snaps. I would never have thought someone could get a rise out of her like he does.
“He would love for her to handle him, if you know what I mean!”
“See? You do know how to make a joke, Matty!” I laugh, rising to join them again.
Things might just be interesting spending time with these two. Plus, it reminds me of being home with my own family.
Heading down to the mess hall near the common room, Vanya and Matvey show me the rest of the amenities. There’s a game room, kitchen, TV area where there is always some sort of sporting event playing.
“Ey! Vanya, your brother made it out alive!”
“No surprise there, Alec. They give him easy time!” Another giant man elbows Mat in the ribs. Immediately, Mat twists the wrist attached to that elbow, garnering hoots and hollers from the men and a yelp from his harasser.
“Not as easy as your sister, Varo.” Matvey releases the bigger man with a shove.
“Hey! She has to make a living somehow, no?”
The antics continue as Vanya leads me over to where a man in a dirty apron with the most glorious beard I’ve ever seen is stirring a pot in the big open kitchen. Instantly, the smell hits me in the gut, making my stomach growl.
“This is your recruit, eh, Miss Sokolov?”
“Always so polite, Igor. Make him a plate, will you? I’m sick of looking at his ribs through his skin.”
“Have to rename him Scarecrow if he doesn’t put meat on him, da ?”
“He’ll be food for crows if he doesn’t. It’s getting cold early this year.”
“I already feel like a scarecrow standing here being ignored,” I mumble and Vanya jabs her elbow into my ribs painfully. “Ciro, nice to meet you.”
“Look at him! I am not only one who is polite, it seems. Training starts tomorrow, Ciro, so you make sure and come to see me extra for food. Captains might try to haze you, starve you out. I won’t let this happen.”
“Thanks. And for the warning.”
We head back toward the tables on the other side of the room, sitting apart from the rabble of goons still harassing Matvey. A part of me wishes I was there with them, joking, acting…normal.
Shoveling the stew and bread into my mouth, I space out for a while, joined in companionable silence by Vanya. A few times, I almost ask her a question, start a conversation, but I can’t seem to find a thread to chase. Or maybe there are too many questions.
Now that I am out of the Gulag, I have no clue what to do. I spent three months just getting through it. One more hour, one more day.
Finally, she breaks the silence, looking at me from under those long, black lashes.
She could kill a man with a gaze. This one. I’d let her.
“You are quiet. It is weird.”
“I can’t tell if you are insulting me or complimenting me.”
“Always assume it’s an insult.” She smirks. “What is on your mind?”
“Too much. Nothing. I think I’m a little…overstimulated.”
“Like puppy. I get this. Your whole world just changed.”
“Again.”
“ Da .”
“I think I just need some sleep. For like a week. Or I need something to do. A task.”
“That begins tomorrow. And you will have plenty to do. I will make sure to keep you busy.” Did her eyebrow just twitch when she said that?
And suddenly I’m overstimulated in a different way.
“Planning to train me yourself?”
“Kick your ass, you mean.”
“Kick it, grab it, whatever you like, koroleva. ”
“Finish your food. You’ll need your strength.” She leans across the table, somehow threatening and teasing me in the same look. Thank goodness I’m sitting down.
Cramming the last of the broth-soaked bread in my mouth, I’m quick to dump my dishes and catch up to the swaying hips leaving the common room. Resounding laughter chases me out and I try ignore it.
Shit. I look like her fucking lapdog.
I should be so lucky.
But I am definitely going to take some shit for it. Even so, I’m enjoying the view of her walking ahead of me when I reach my room.
Vanya turns back to give me a look and poke one finger into my chest. “See you on the sparring field, 6 a.m.”
“I’ll be there promptly five minutes late.”
Vanya simply shakes her head, the promise of violence clear in her eyes. I match her glare for glare as we stand there, inches apart. I could just steal a kiss, right there.
Until the door to my room suddenly swings open and we both jump.
“There you are.” Fyodor. Fuck.
“Oo! Did you stop in for turndown service? Chocolate mints on my pillow are my favorite,” I snark. But the fact that he was in my room, waiting for me has my blood boiling already for some reason. Was he planting shit on me? Or just going through my nonexistent stuff?
“Keep running mouth, Shakal.” He kicks my table over first, backing into the room, waving for me to enter.
I chance a look at Vanya, watching her take a deep steadying breath.
“No, no. You do not ask her for permission. I am your captain, svoloch .”
“Greeeat.” I step to attention, saluting condescendingly.
No surprise when he drives an insanely fast and brutal fist into my stomach, doubling me over. Leaving me to stagger to my knees, he proceeds to trash my room, dragging out the drawers, flipping the mattress and sheets onto the floor.
Classic domination tactics.
“Enough, Fyo.” Vanya growls from the doorway.
I pull myself back to my feet, a snarl on my lips as I face off with Fyodor. His eyes flare as he squares up to me, grinning menacingly.
A fit of laughter spasms at my lips, shuddering out as I try to suppress it.
“Are you crying , Diamante?” he taunts.
“Nah, just trying not to laugh in your face.”
“I will break you in half.”
“Big words from a big man. Sure, you got a few inches on me, but I’m willing to bet I can even that score by knocking a few inches off that stupid ass flattop.”
His smile drops to a grimace.
“You will learn respect, worm.”
I feel my blood pressure skyrocket as he gets right in my face. This motherfucker thinks he can intimidate me?
Regardless of whether he’s my captain or not, he doesn’t get to come in here and treat me like shit. A lifetime of being at the top of the food chain in my family still has me trained to fight back, to retaliate against somebody who steps up to me.
“I will be here, every day, to check on you, traitor. If I find anything I don’t like, I will punish you. So watch out what you keep. No contraband, da ?”
“I got your contraband right here, assh—” I start, raising one fist, but Vanya is between us in an instant, pressing her body back against me and pushing a palm into Fyodor’s massive chest. He takes one step back, his expression softening as he looks down at her. And then immediately looking even more pissed off as he realizes how close the two of us are.
Me?
I’m suddenly pretty distracted by the sweet, round ass cheeks cradling my crotch.
Still, as Fyodor heads toward the door, my body reacts, lunging one last time after him. I wanna kick his ass so fucking bad.
Vanya turns around, bodily blocking me.
“Fucking prick,” I grumble, letting her push me back.
“You’ll pay for every infraction, boy. See you tomorrow. I will have job for you.” He sneers as he looks around at the mess in my room. “And stay away from my girl.”
At this, Vanya rolls her eyes, sighing.
Which only makes me want to beat the guy’s face in even more.
Until fingernails graze up my thigh, sending shivers through my body. Along with a shake of her head and a gaze that makes me swallow hard.
And I am so very aware of how close we are and the fact that we are alone.
Vanya’s coy smile has my heart pounding as she backs off. “Well now. He certainly gets you riled up.”
Or it could be her perfect tits rubbing against me.
Instead, I say, “Not as much as you do.”
Vanya smirks, shrugging her shoulders and wagging that bubble butt as she leaves me to clean up the mess. Then she has the audacity to glance back at me right before she turns the corner, biting her lip and raking her eyes down my body before disappearing.
Fucking fuck. I want to tear those leather pants off and bury my face between those cheeks.
For now, all I can do is sit my happy ass down on what’s left of my bed, pinning my hands under me to keep from jerking off or punching a hole in the wall.