Vanessa
Chapter twelve
When Danny came inside—thirty minutes ago—and told me to stay in the clubhouse and not go outside, I was confused.
All he said was that the guys were back and to stay inside.
My mind started racing with thoughts of what that could mean, especially after the last time they went out on business and Braxton and Cash came back bloody and beaten.
There’s no way for Russ to have known about the trip they were making to Michigan, though.
I know that’s the exact kind of information that would’ve gotten his dick hard, but I refuse to give him anything else.
Those boxes I always thought I was so damn good about putting different areas of my life in?
Yeah, they’re deteriorating as though they were made of tissue paper.
All it took was one look at Braxton after he came back from Boston, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt there was no way I could keep going along with Russ’s plan.
When my stepbrother and his cronies came into Midnight Rose, he scared the hell out of me.
He must be getting desperate if he thought an in-person visit was necessary.
Maybe he felt his control slipping, maybe he gets off on seeing the fear in my eyes up close and personal.
Probably a bit of both. But more than being scared, it made me angry.
Furious. Ready to murder him and the men he brought with him my damn self.
That night, after Braxton and I got home from the club, was the first time since New York that we slept in the same bed. The entire night. He made good on his promise and woke me with a mind-bending orgasm—something he took great pride in.
And I had to admit to myself, this stopped being about just sex.
It’s turning into something deeper. And I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.
Braxton still has no idea what brought me here, and I need to tell him.
I also need to explain why I’ve stayed, and it’s not for reasons he might think.
I’m still here because I’m falling for him.
Because I hate the fact that I’ve been lying to him, that I caused him and his club harm, and more than anything, I desperately want to come clean.
The problem is, I don’t know how. I’m not naive enough to not know that the ramifications of my truth will potentially break us.
As it stands, we’re a pretty flimsy us. But I’m hoping—maybe foolishly—probably very foolishly—that if I explain the situation, he’ll somehow understand.
I need him to see that I’m doing everything in my power to keep my sister and mom safe.
Even if, after everything comes to light, he can’t stand the sight of me anymore, at least he might find enough sympathy to help us get away from Russ.
My stepbrother told me these guys don’t have hearts.
Or maybe I just believed what I wanted. Anything for me to be able to stand what he was sending me here to do.
But I’ve learned the opposite is true. I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m around Braxton and his club.
And maybe I was hoping to someday be a part of it.
Now all I can think is that Russ somehow found out about the run Braxton was on today and did something to hurt him. Or worse. Why else would Danny say I needed to stay inside?
There’s a knock on my door, and I take three quick strides over to it, wrenching it open so fast it nearly hits the wall.
“Oh my God, you’re safe,” I say and jump toward Braxton, throwing my arms around his neck.
I hold him tight with my head against his chest, pressing my body into him, but he doesn’t return the embrace. When I lift my head and look at his face, his gaze won’t meet mine.
“What’s going on? Is everyone okay? What happened on the road?” I pepper him with questions, not sure why he’s acting this way toward me, so cold and detached. This is completely unlike him. There has to be something wrong.
“Everyone’s fine.” He lifts his hands and grabs my wrists, removing them from his neck.
I step back from him with confusion blasting through me. Why is he acting like I’m some stranger he doesn’t want anywhere near him? What happened between this morning and now?
“Okay, Braxton. You’re kind of freaking me out.”
He walks toward me, and on instinct, I take a step back. His face is unreadable, and a shiver of fear works its way up my spine. Jesus, this is Braxton, for chrissake, not some asshole who would hurt you.
He must see the apprehension in my expression, because he halts and crosses his arms over his chest. “Had a little chat with someone you know. Says his name is Carl.”
Oh, sweet fuck. This is not how I wanted any of this coming out.
I swallow hard, open my mouth, then shut it. Goddammit, why did he have to come here expecting answers when I haven’t figured out what to say to him yet—how to explain myself?
“Cat got your tongue? Now that you’ve been found out, you don’t have anything to say?” He tilts his head to the side. “Or are you trying to come up with a pretty little lie you can spin to match all the other ones you’ve told?”
“I haven’t lied to you.” Jesus, that sounds ridiculously lame even to my own ears.
Braxton barks out a humorless laugh, walks over to my bed, and sits. “Please explain that one to me.” He waves his hand as if telling me I have the floor.
Licking my dry lips, I start to tell him my story. “You already know my dad died.”
“I know that’s what you told me,” he says, his tone colder than I’ve ever heard it.
“I would never lie about that,” I say with more indignation than I have any right to feel.
“Well, Vanessa, I don’t know what you’ve been truthful about and what you haven’t. For all I know, you could have done a whole workup on all of us and picked the weakest link. Guess I was the lucky sucker.”
“That’s not what happened. I’m trying to explain to you—”
“Go ahead, but I can’t guarantee I’ll believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”
It’s not only the tone of his voice that’s breaking my heart. It’s the cold, dead stare he has aimed at me. I’ve never seen it, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me.
Inhaling a long breath, I try again. “When my dad died, my mom got involved with a married man. Lev Morozov. He wasn’t a bad guy, per se, but he wanted more kids, so when my mom got knocked up with my little sister, he left his wife and married her.”
I study Braxton for a beat to see if the name rings any bells.
“I’m not up on the particular players of the Russian Bratva. Until a few months ago, we didn’t even know we were on their radar.”
“Lev was a brigadier. Kind of like a capo in the Mafia, but the Bratva version. He died when I was seventeen and didn’t leave anything to my mother.
I don’t even think he had a will or anything like that.
His son, Russ, took everything, and my mom was in no place to fight him on it.
He moved us into that shitty apartment building you saw and got me a fake ID to work at one of his clubs. ”
“Are you going to get to how it turned into you spying on the club for him anytime soon?” Braxton asks, apparently annoyed by the amount of time I’m taking to tell him my truth.
I swallow hard, biting back a retort. Here I am opening up to him, being totally honest for the first time, and he’s acting like he’s late for a manicure appointment or some shit.
“I stayed out of Bratva politics. Sure, they would frequent the clubs, but I wanted nothing to do with any of it. All I wanted was to save money and get me, my mom, and Noel out of that shithole. Somewhere Russ wouldn’t find us.
I don’t know; maybe I figured it would be an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of situation.
Until my stepbrother came to me with his plan.
Then I knew he wouldn’t let me leave if I didn’t get him what he wanted. ”
“A way into our club,” Braxton says.
“Yeah. I thought the plan was stupid and would never work.”
Braxton works his jaw back and forth. “There’s no ex, is there?”
I shake my head no.
“Russ did that to your face?”
I nod.
The muscles of Braxton’s jaw flex several more times as he stares at something past me as though he can’t even look at me. “See, I’m not some dumb biker like you thought.”
“I never thought you were dumb. I thought…I think you’re amazing,” I finish quietly.
“If I’m so amazing, why did you go along with it? Why the fuck didn’t you come to me and tell me, or any of the other brothers, what was going on? We would have protected you, Vanessa.”
“It’s not just me! It’s my mom and sister. I’m the only one who ever protected them. Russ said you hated the Bratva, that if you found out what I’d done, you would look at me like a lying whore. And fuck, I believed him because that’s what I felt like.”
“Yeah, sleeping with me for information would certainly make you seem that way.”
That right there is a punch to my gut. He’s confirming every fear I had about what would happen if I told him the truth.
“That’s not why I slept with you,” I plead, hoping he can see past his anger and see me. “That’s not why I’ve been spending these last few nights in your bed.”
“That’s right, it’s because if you don’t get your nightly orgasms, you don’t get a good night’s rest. That’s what I am to you, right? Someone to get you off so you could somehow sleep, even though you’re here to fuck over my club. My family.”
“No. I mean, I guess…yes. I came here because Russ sent me, but I wanted out, Braxton. I told him that when he showed up at Midnight Rose to threaten me. To threaten Noel and my mom. That’s how I know Carl.
He said if I didn’t stay, he would let his ‘friends’ around my sister.
The kind of friends who like little girls. ” I could vomit just thinking about it.
“So you agreed to keep up the pretense and tell them we were going to Michigan. After you saw what they did to me. After you helped bandage me up and took care of me. Instead of turning to me for help, you fucked me over. Again!”
“I swear to you that I didn’t tell them about Michigan. I’ll put that on my life, Braxton. I have no idea how they found out where you were today.”
“But Boston?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper. “Yes. I’m the one who gave Russ the date and time for Boston.”
An earsplitting crash sounds behind me and my eyes spring open. Braxton is standing, and when I look behind me, I see the shattered remnants of the lamp that was sitting on the nightstand next to my bed.
“You could have gotten me killed! You could have gotten my brother killed!”
“I’m so sorry,” I cry. “So fucking sorry. I knew I couldn’t do anything like that again. I was going to tell you when you got back. I was going to beg you to help even though I don’t deserve it.”
“You’re right. You don’t deserve anything from me.
And if you think for one minute that I believe that you didn’t tell them about our run this morning, you’re as big of an idiot as I am for believing I could have something with you.
That I could ever get past your fucking walls and the fucking boxes you put people in. ”
“All of that is true. I am an idiot. I did think I could keep you in a box. You have no reason to trust me. But please, I’m fucking begging you, believe me when I say I didn’t tell them about Michigan.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Braxton marches over and opens it.
“What?” he asks Jude, whose gaze darts to me, then to the shattered lamp on the floor behind me.
“Carl wasn’t done talking after you left. Some new information came to light.”
“Is he done now?” Braxton asks.
Jude nods. “Permanently.”
Braxton turns around and pins me with his frigid stare. “I’ll be back.”
He steps out of my room and slams the door behind him.
Permanently. That’s the word Jude used, and I know exactly what it means.
Carl is dead.
There’s no reason for me to feel bad about his death. In fact, it’s just the opposite. He was a sick fuck who deserves everything he got and probably more. But that begs the question—what does the club have planned for me?
I never pegged Braxton for a violent man.
I’ve never seen that side of him, at least. I know he’s no choirboy if he’s part of a one-percenter MC, but until today, that’s not a side I had any experience with.
At least not with him. But I know dangerous men.
I know what they can do to women. Lord knows I’ve been threatened enough by a few of them now.
It was my stepbrother who beat me to hell before I came to the clubhouse.
But I’ve never seen that look in Braxton’s eyes.
In my time knowing him, he’s never destroyed something out of anger. Until today.
Well, fuck this.
I’m heartbroken and devastated that Braxton found out about my involvement with the Bratva this way. I can never make that right or take anything I did back. But I’m not about to sit in here and let them decide I’m fated to meet the same end as Carl.
I open my closet and grab my suitcase out of the back before tossing it on the bed. Then I go to my dresser and open the drawers, scooping out all the clothes and shoving them into the suitcase. I rip everything in the closet from the hangers and throw it on top of the rest of my clothes.
I open my nightstand drawers and grab the envelopes of cash I have stashed, tossing those inside before zipping the suitcase shut.
Standing in front of the door with my suitcase in hand, I have no idea what’s on the other side. Braxton or any of the brothers could have someone posted in the hall to stop me if I decide to run.
Inhaling a deep breath, I open the door.
No one is there.
Okay, that’s a good start.
I walk out of the room and down the hall.
No noise is coming from the main room of the clubhouse, but there’s no telling how long it’s going to stay empty, so I make a dash for the door.
My car is in the lot, and I don’t run into anyone from the club.
They’re all probably busy with whatever they have to do to get rid of Carl’s body.
I kind of hope they let the wolves have him—if there are any wolves in Massachusetts.
After throwing my suitcase in the back seat of my car, I hop in the driver’s seat and start it, then pull up to the gate.
Danny is there and walks up to my window.
“Hey, I picked up a shift tonight at the club. Need to grab a few things for my new performance before I head in.”
“Man, I wish we could have had a night out. That would have been fun.”
I shrug. “Next time.”
He gives me a friendly smile and opens the gate.
Little does he know there won’t be a next time, because the likelihood of me ever being welcome here again is slim to none—and you can never count on a guy named Slim.