Chapter Twenty-Eight
Roman
I light a cigarette as I wait for the Stravani member. He is walking past the circles of people on the sidewalk, stomping his steps like he is having a fucking tantrum.
He stops a few feet away from me, “Back from the fucking dead,” he says as he situates his coat and bobs his head. His cockiness pours from his designer clothes and sarcastic tone.
I take a drag in, “Death knocking on the door has never scared me,” and exhale the stream of smoke,“but you know how that is.” I’m not in the mood for this right now. My sweet cottontail folds her arms over herself as he licks over her body with his eyes, head to toe. I want to pluck those eyes out and make him eat them as I carve into his skin. She is beautiful but the way he licks his lips, like he thinks he can claim her, makes me want to snap his neck.
He turns his head slowly to me with a shit-eating grin, “We all know you are a cold hearted bastard Roman,” he lets out a laugh, “I mean what son leaves his father in the hospital to rot. The least your brother could do was pull the plug on him,” he proclaims, shooting his eyebrows up.
I blink out a blithe grin, “The bastard finally croaked,” I say as I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. I inhale another drag and with an exhale, “Well, I guess he opened that door huh?” I am not in disbelief, but surprised Stepan didn’t tell me. For him to make the decision to end his life is shocking. Given, he doesn't know what to do without him funneling his luxuries. I can’t help but think how this changes the plan, how I was going to make my father suffer for what he did to my mother, to what he did to me, for what he has done to this city. Nothing of merit and everything to kill for.
The man drops his hands from his waist, nodding his head, “You are fucking oblivious arent you,” he says as he smiles at Ava and back at me, “Stepan has been staying with us. His new family. His new home and business partners.” I knew he would be back in town soon but I’m not surprised he was played like fiddle by the Don because he is marrying his daughter. I expect nothing less from him leeching off others to keep his luxury lifestyle. That is the only thing he seems to be good at.
“Finally becoming…uh, equals,” he says sarcastically, “So, you could say we are like family now,” he straightens his lips, unamusingly, “and word on the street is nobody wants you in this family. The bastard, just like it always has been.”
I stub out my cigarette with a twist at the embers as I ease my body, cocking an eyebrow. Not the first time I knew this about myself; the disconnect from anything normal in this world. But they have it wrong. I'm not a bastard, just a different type of evil.
His face went from stern to a frown, “Will this beautiful thing be at the party tomorrow for the last day before we join together?” he let out a sigh, “I just wished it wasn't at that sad pathetic place you all called home… but we can’t win them all.” I’m not joining shit but by the way it sounds Stepan doesn’t plan on having me around long either. Which will make the party that more interesting.
He moves to the front of Ava, “What’s your name?” He asks as he grabs her hand and looks back at me, “What a sweet angel. One of our products?” he asks, relishing in trafficking humans as he licks his upper lip.
He's touching her. Touching what is mine.
Ava
The cold night made me shiver, along with the Italian mafia members' hands around mine. I was content, almost happy, before we came outside. I am confused, scared and I don’t know what to do.
Roman being the bastard of the family and not knowing about his father? Stepan is not going to rule the Volokhov Bratva then? And if not then will Roman?
I tuck my chin inward as I gulp, wishing I could slump into myself, but I would practically be in his chest with how close this man is to me. I am afraid and angry. All I can think about is how Roman’s hands held my orgasm from me to just make me wait so he could properly fuck me. The way he looks at me like he would devour me and keep me safe at the same time. It's the only thing keeping my focus from crying from the confusion and fear I have as my palms sear with pain.
The man presses his forefingers and thumbs into my palms, pinching them as hard as he can. I look at Roman from the pain but he is not looking at me. He is looking at the man, tensing his eyes as his jaw ticks, like he was waiting for the perfect time to say or do anything. He strides closer as the other man looks me up and down.
Roman grips his throat, clasping one of his hands around him as I drop mine to my sides.
The vapor of my icy breath puddles from me, exposing the warmth of myself. It feels like my exhale froze midair, as if time itself stopped. I am motionless, afraid and hopeless.
I can’t stop watching.
The groups of people scatter with screams and the only thing left was the rage I saw in Roman as I stood there on the curb corner. I wanted to fall back, I wanted to descend into the black pavement. I didn’t want to watch. I’m unmovable. That infamous string pulls from my belly button and through my spine like it was telling me to run. To leave and never look back. To start over. To disappear. I hate that I can’t. I feel like I've lost control of who I am.
I can't stop watching.
The welling tears hoop over my lower lid as he pushes the man to the brick wall by his throat. Dragging him upward, the man fights for his life as he claws at Romans hands. He lifts him higher and higher, as if he was giving him a view before he throttles him into the pits of hell. His screams mean nothing under Roman’s grip, suppressed attempts to say anything aren't escaping from Roman’s hand, crushing inward everytime he tries to speak.
Roman is quiet and his face twists with volatile wrath as he pulls the man's head away from the bricks with ease and throttles him into the red stones. Blood spritz around the man’s head like a crimson halo. He gurgles, begging for mercy but Roman keeps him steady. Not even a heavy breath escapes Roman as he smashes the back of the man’s head again. The halo becomes a puddle and then a stream, filling the cracks of the bricks in its descent.
I can't stop watching. I am stuck, trapped in my own body.
He dangles from Roman’s grasp like a limp sack of evil and defeat with tiny slits of his eyes, exposing his soul that is barely holding on. The darkness Roman possesses creeps from him, as if it was gripping the man's legs. I tug the corner of my lip up in a soft smile as he lifts him away from the wall by his throat.
Blood gushes to Roman’s grip as he holds him steady, “All of you will suffer for every evil you represent. All of your corruption. For all of the pain you inflict. Most of all,” Roman extends from his shoulder, lifting the mafia member slightly, “for touching what is mine.”
He crashes him into the pavement.
The ooze of blood trickles, inching toward my shoes. I watch the slow trail as time catches up, whirring me back to the present as I step off the curb backwards. There is the familiar twist in my stomach of fear but there was an unknown glimmer of murky joy fluttering around it like it was dancing together. I was glad he killed him and utterly disgusted regardless. The last time he killed someone in front of me, I made it a purpose to not watch but now I couldn't stop. I don't know if I am stuck and I’m finally succumbing to the mayhem, with how my head spins, or if I am slow-dancing with the pieces of murky joy and fear.
He deserved it talking like that to Roman.
I am numb .
Roman
The house is dark as Ava and I walk on the backside. She shivers ever so often, wrapping her hands around her elbows, but I know it wasn’t from the cold. Her throat bobs and swallows as she drops her gaze into the rose garden past the leading steps. I drag my hand on the back of my neck as my eyes sweep from her feet to the dip in her shoulder as she moves her hair to the side. She keeps her focus on the wilting white flowers and brambles of thorns like it was calling to her just like how she stood and watched when I smashed his head in. My sweet and tender cottontail didn't hide this time like she did with Ronnie.
She is achingly beautiful in this horrible reality.
I texted Nikolai about Stepan but I know he wouldn't make a move anytime soon, not until things are official. He would want to make sure he has the Italians to back him up, if not to do his dirty work for him.
I watch the crease in her tight skirt where it fits perfectly along her ass, tucking into the back of her perfect thighs. I want to take a bite out of her and all that is her. Her skin is milky in the moonlight and she is absolutely sexy with my leather jacket on.
She walks down the steps into the garden with steady and calculated movements like she was examining everything about her decisions. How she knows she should have stayed away, the warnings I have given to her, but it makes me wonder if the feds really put her up to this.
Why would they use something so pure for this world?
She stops at the edge, lining her toes with the pavement and dirt of the garden. She turns to face me and is silent and emotionless as she stares at me for a moment. I want to cradle her and tell her that she is the fucking force that keeps me going, even if it is dark and twisted.
I pull her close to me, “So, tonigh— ”
She grabs the back of my head, crashing her mouth into mine as she runs her fingers through my short hair. I smile with a heavy breath between our kisses. I crawl my hand under the back of the jacket and up her back. Fuck, she is so beautiful with the garden behind her and the way her hair shines strands of red.
She inches her steps back toward the fallen roses and thorns, luring me with every deep kiss as she bites my bottom lip. She sheds the jacket, dropping it to our feet and then snags her fingers at the top of my suit jacket. I stay connected to her bite as she holds me with her teeth, wrapping her hands around my cheeks. I shuck my suit jacket to the ground and peel my shoulder holster off as she unbuttons my shirt. I strip it off over my head as I watch her take her shirt off.
She has a grip on me and fuck, it’s not just her bites and nails digging into my chest.
We eagerly shuffle closer to the brambles and fallen roses as she lets go of me, falling back with her arms in front of her, crashing into the darkness.