Bratva Dark Allegiance: The Complete Collection

by Raven Scott

  I think I’m gonna be sick.

  3

  Delilah

  “What do you think?” The hair stylist turned my chair around slowly.

  My heart leaped into my throat as I gazed at myself through wide eyes. My blonde hair had turned a deep, dark red, with lighter highlights and black tips that no longer reached my elbows. Reaching to touch the strands that hugged my jaw, I licked my dry lips heavily.

  The woman behind me held out a mirror to let me see the back.

  My brows rose high in surprise. “Woah ” All the hair around my face had been cut just below my chin and dyed red, but long, trimmed strands clung between my shoulder blades. “It’s cyan. That’s so cool.”

  When I came in here and said I didn’t care, that the stylist could surprise me, and I’d just sorta broken up with my long-term boyfriend, I wasn’t expecting her to do such a good job. Reaching to thread my fingers and pull the long tail over my shoulder, I squinted at the color.

  The woman beamed behind me. “You have a rounder face, so I thought this style would be great for you. I figured you wouldn’t want to do cherry blonde or something, red and cyan go great together.” She sounded so proud of herself.

  I fixed the strands down my back to inhale deeply through my nose. My green eyes stood out in all the red and I held my breath for a long second before exhaling slowly. Standing up from the chair, I turned to her to hold out my hand.

  Then she almost knocked me over when she hugged me tightly. “You deserve a second chance. I can’t tell you how many women come in telling me they’re cutting their hair because their boyfriend told them they liked something better. It’s really disheartening. It’s so great when someone comes in because they’re trying to start over from a not so great situation.”

  “Th- thank you.” I patted her a little awkwardly.

  She leaned back to hold my shoulders and beam a big, dimpled smile at me.

  Discomfort sank into my gut.

  She gestured me towards the front desk with a wave of her hand. “I hope you have a great day.”

  Smiling weakly, I ducked my head, and the lack of weight on my head felt weird. Walking down the aisle of stations, I ran my hand through my hair absently as a strange sensation tickled my cheeks. Pulling my purse strap onto my shoulder, the tightness in my throat eased as I caught my reflection in a mirror.

  For five years, I had the same hairstyle and I paused to admire myself in a slim moment of vanity. My smile widened, but my eyes stung with the reminder of why I made this drastic decision in the first place. Rounding the front desk, I started digging in my purse for my wallet as I stood in the short line.

  My phone started to vibrate from a call, but I ignored it as I pulled out my debit card. Staring at it for a long moment, I blinked hard, and my lip curled a little in distaste.

  Darren sent me money every month and now, I could see it for what it was. He bought my affection, made me financially dependent on him even though I also received a paycheck from Carlyle. I had hundreds of thousands of dollars to my name, but I’d never actually worked for any of it.

  “How gross,” muttering to myself, I shook my head and the lightness of my hair made my scalp tingle. The more I thought of it, the more I realized that I’d wasted all this time, all the effort… my entire self on a guy that didn’t care about me for more than a few nights a year. Darren called me and we had some good conversations, but he always had a reason to say, ‘I can’t right now’. Wasn’t that the definition of leading me on? There was always something else. I was never Darren’s number one.

  Just because his job wasn’t exactly legitimate didn’t mean he was any different than the cube goblin who was never home. In fact, Darren might even be worse because he willingly chose not to even be in the same country.

  He willingly chose not to be with me. Over and over again. I had to drop everything instantly, but he just decided not to.

  Muddling through my awful thoughts, I paid and tipped my stylist generously before leaving the shop. The heavy, spring air couldn’t lift my mood, but it did make it a little easier to breathe as I closed my eyes and flopped my head back. My heart rate slowed and I cracked open my eyes to glance around the little strip mall. Everything looked brighter and better than when I’d gone into the hairdresser’s as I held my purse to my side to walk to my car parked on the curb.

  Even my car was paid for by Darren and it was exactly what I’d wanted, but...rounding the front of the cream-colored two-door, disgust roiled in my gut. Anything I wanted, he gave me without hesitating and now, it was so clear that he felt bad about not being here for me. Of course...not bad enough to drop what he was doing and come to me.

  “God...” I slid into the driver’s side to set my purse on the passenger’s seat and grip the wheel, flexing my fingers. My phone was tracked by GPS. My car was tracked by GPS. My clothes were tracked by GPS. I had all these eyes on me, but not the pair of eyes I had wanted.

  Pushing the ignition button, my car rumbled to life smoothly. I pulled out of my spot as my heart ached and sent goosebumps blanketing down my arms. My knees bounced under the wheel and I shivered as I jacked the gas. The roar of the engine rang in my ears, the speedometer needle flickering right sharply as I tore down the street.

  I didn’t slow down as I ran a red light, my mind going blank as I pressed the pedal down all the way. Gripping the wheel with white-knuckle tightness, I held my breath, and an almost drunken sensation tingled behind my eyes. My vision tunneled and blurred until I saw nothing but faint colors and the vague distinction of the road.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” Hitting the wheel, I sputtered the slur and spittle flew from my mouth as I took my foot off the gas. “F-uck...” My voice cracked sharply, and I ground my teeth hard as I slammed the gas again. Tears clung to my eyelashes, my face threatening to melt off my bones from the heat of my emotions.

  Everything balled up in my chest, clogging my nose and throat as I breathed short, shallow, burning pants. What if I just didn’t live anymore? The ultimate fuck you to the man that’d strung me along, left me alone, made me feel like I was important with his words and not his actions. What if I just...turned the wheel? What if I jammed the brakes? What if I took this gift he gave me and turned it into a coffin?

  Everything I had, saw, and touched...it was all tainted. It was all empty promises that never amounted to anything. I’d spent five years waiting, believing Darren even after he broke his word again and again. Just two more weeks— yeah, right. It’d turn into another two weeks. And then another two weeks.

  “Fuck!” I couldn’t jerk the wheel, but in slow motion, my car drifted to the left, and the irony of the situation slammed into my chest. The sensation tingling in my body as the driver’s side wheels picked up off the road, and a hysterical giggle escaped me when I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. My new haircut, my attempt to reinvent myself, was wasted and for what?

  I didn’t even know anymore. Darren didn’t love me, so I was going to kill myself? What the fuck kind of sick logic was that? My wretched laughter bounced around inside the car as the phantom stench of burning rubber seeped through the cracks in the windows. The horrible thunk of the stuff in my trunk bouncing around sounded overly loud in my ears and I let go of the wheel to sink into my seat.

  The past five years flashed behind my eyelids like a movie reel and it hurt. It hurt to watch myself be so stupid. It hurt to see now, with hindsight, that Darren was never really going to put me first.

  When Carlyle sent his lackies after me, I should’ve said ‘no’ and abandoned Darren like he’d always abandoned me. I should’ve slipped out the way he did, leaving me lonely and wanting in the morning.

  Except...there wasn’t going to be a morning, anymore. There wasn’t going to be anything anymore.

  Coming to a stop on the side of the road, fantasy tore from reality and the smell that assaulted my nose and eyes disappeared.

  All four of my car’s tires were on the ground, and
I didn’t have a hair out of place when I looked in the rearview mirror.

  My giggles died, morphing into pathetic, whimpering cries.

  Because that’s what I was—pathetic.

  4

  Darren

  “This is Delilah. Leave a message, please.” Rubbing my jaw and hiding my scowl behind my palm, I inhaled deeply through my nose. My eyelids fluttered closed briefly, my breath going stale in my lungs before I exhaled slowly. Turning my gaze to my phone, I tapped Delilah’s contact again as the sick pit of dread in my gut gnawed deeper.

  Holding the speaker to my ear, I listened to the ringing that seemed to go on forever, gazing at some distant speck on the floor of the plane.

  “This is Delilah. Leave a message, please.”

  Hanging up again, frustration burned behind my eyes and I pushed my knuckles against my teeth. I tapped her contact again, my hands shaking as a cold sweat broke out under my clothes. The incredibly shrill ringing sounded again, going on and on, and I glanced out the small window through narrowed eyes.

  “This is De—”

  “Damnit.” I knew things with Delilah had been worse since she was forced to live in Carlyle’s complex, but I didn’t realize they were so bad that she’d try to break up with me. “I can’t blame her living situation, though. This is all my fault and Delilah’s right. I always put her lower...” Sourness stained my tongue at my own grumble as guilt clogged my throat, and I scratched my stubble sharply.

  Delilah, Delilah, Delilah. She had waited far longer than either of us initially thought, and my lips twisted in a nasty snarl. All that I wanted for us was in danger because I got complacent, thinking she’d hang on me for as long as...well, I never had a time frame, but that was my problem.

  These past two weeks and three days had been the slowest of my life. Delilah refused to answer my calls and with each passing day, I grew more and more frustrated. Not with her no, never but with myself because I’d never taken her seriously. Everyone had a breaking point and now that we were so close to the end, she’d reached hers. I couldn’t blame her for that.

  Glancing down at the vast ocean, seemingly unending, 30,000 feet below, I inhaled deeply through my nose. I’d never been so happy to make a deal, but I had to go home.

  Home. What a strange concept. Closing my eyes, my meeting with Jahar flashed behind my lids. He tried so hard to play me, trying to get a better deal, trying to use the threat of Aleksander to his advantage. My former boss trying to kill me was inconsequential. Although, if he did manage it somehow from his gothic chair in Moscow, nothing would be my problem anymore.

  The only regret I’d have was to be killed in a soulless desert, surrounded by people I was extremely distrusting of. Somehow, Aleksander had found out enough information about me to attempt to kill me four times. I reached to hold my shoulder as it throbbed at the memory. Most recently, it’d bene a car bomb that wasn’t strong enough to do any damage to anyone but the actual car itself. It’d have been different if I were in the metal death trap, of course.

  But I wasn’t going to bring any of that with me to the States. I was out, and I was going to stay out. I intend to devote the rest of my life to earning Delilah’s faith and trust—Carlyle Santino be damned. If my clients didn’t want to deal with his brother, I wouldn’t pick up the slack. As much as I appreciated him taking me in like some lost, abused dog, I made it very clear that I was done.

  “You can’t stay? Just to cuddle a little?” Those beautiful, green eyes got bigger as Delilah puffed out her bottom lip in a pout.

  My heart ached fiercely. Leaning on my arm, I kissed her with all the passion I had left writhing under my sweat-slickened, twitchy skin.

  Her delicate palms cupped my cheeks firmly. “You’re not even gonna pretend to hesitate?”

  “I have a plane to catch, Delilah. I told you this wasn’t going to be a long thing.”

  Her rosy cheeks drew a little gaunt and paled.

  I frowned under furrowed brows as I went back to buttoning my shirt. “What do you want me to do? I can’t try to get a later plane back to Egypt.”

  “...That’s exactly what I don’t expect you to do, Darren.”

  Pursing my lips thinly, I sat on the edge of the bed.

  She pulled the sheet over her and flopped down with a huff. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

  The smell of her plumed in the air, and my cheek twitched before I bent down to grab my pants. “You can always come with me. Egypt is beautiful this time of year.”

  As fast as she’d covered herself, Delilah’s arm flailed out and she craned her neck to glare at me.

  I paused, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up at that familiar flame in her eyes and my breath caught in my chest.

  Her face tinged red from anger up to her little ears, and her golden, disheveled locks seemed to puff out even worse from her bristling. “Why should I, huh? Why can’t you come here? Why am I the one that always has to give up everything? You know, Darren, you never, ever, ever offer to stay– you only offer to take me with you. I do not want to go with you. I don’t want to live in some crappy third-world country where I don’t know the language or anyone else there besides you. Every time we get together, you ask me to come back with you, and I always say ‘no’. Don’t you think it’s time to try a different tactic? It’s been four and a half years. Maybe, the next time you’re here, you shouldn’t call me up for a quickie.” She threw herself down, her long, curvy body perfectly outlined in the thin, cheap hotel sheet.

  Surprise rendered me stupid. “Are you breaking up with me?” Faint panic gripped my heart loosely, as I reached to nudge her hip. “Hey, I told you before I landed that I only had three hours between flights.”

  Delilah scoffed. “You want me to move all the way across the world, but you won’t just lay down with me for a few minutes?” She fired back hard,

  I blinked as her roughened, strained tone grated my ears.

  Covering her head with the pillow, she curled up tighter, wiggling away from me. “Fine get out. I don’t even want you. All you’re good for is sex, Darren, and you ruin the entire experience the second it’s over. It’s not even worth it if you’re not gonna at least pretend to be reluctant to leave.”

  And I hadn’t physically seen Delilah since. For the past year or so, she refused to agree to see me if I asked to make a trip to the States for her. We talked on the phone, but Delilah had gotten more agitated and disinterested. The calls had gotten shorter and flooded with awkward pauses. I wasn’t disillusioned about the reason, but I’d also told her early on that Aleksander would try to kill me, and Carlyle may try to strong-arm her.

  Cracking open my eyes, I ground my teeth at the reminder that, given the chance, Aleksander Makovich would put a bullet in my brain. I’d worked for that demanding asshole for over a decade, and he tried to kill m…me! Because of his own bad decisions. He was running for his first political office next year, had already started his campaign, but somehow, he found the energy to worry about me.

  Aleksander should worry, though. I made him money, and not only had he lost me, but he lost my clients as well. He dragged my ass all the way to Saint Petersburg to be a puppet in his little power play with Ophelia, but that’d blown up in his face. Last, I’d heard, she just stopped trying to give him advice after their own trip to America.

  But I knew things they didn’t. Carlyle Santino intended to fuck Aleksander sideways by doing the one thing expected of him, allowing the Russians to operate in Chicago, Illinois. What did Carlyle gain from this?

  Simple. Carlyle Santino wanted to poach Aleksander’s frustrated talent. Ophelia, Ivanov, Aleksander’s brother, who’d already met Carlyle over the winter. A few others, I’m sure, but those were the obvious ones.

  No one was happy with the way Aleksander had treated his visit to the United States and Carlyle Santino was more than happy to take advantage of it.

  ...Even now, all I can think about is business. My lips twisted in a
nasty snarl at my own inability to keep to the fact that Delilah was who I should be worrying about. I loved her… I wanted her, and wanted to be with he, so...what the fuck was so wrong with me that I couldn’t stop getting distracted? “Shit...”

  5

  Delilah

  “Why are you calling me, of all people?”

  My mouth dried as Reece’s snap bounced around inside my head, and I bit my lip hard. The line went quiet, but he eventually sighed heavily, and my face grew hot from expectation. “What do you want, Delilah? Why didn’t you call Riley?”

  “Because I want someone to tell me I’m being stupid.” Reece’s interest prickled along my cheek, and I moved my phone to my other ear as I hid in the closet in my bedroom. “You’d do anything for Riley if she asked and it was reasonable, right?”

  “That’s your stupid question? That’s just obvious, isn’t it? Of course, I would. She’s my girl.” Reece sounded so matter of fact now.

  Holding my breath below the dense lump in my throat, I reached my fingers along my crown to fist my hair. The light, dyed strands were soft against my palm. Shivers raced down my spine as I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on my knee., and I inhaled a shallow, hot breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you, Reece. Tell Riley I said ‘hey’.” I really have no one, don’t I? I hung up sluggishly, my thumb swiping up the screen weakly until I reached my mom’s contact. When was the last time I talked to her? Not since she learned, I was moving to California to ‘pursue’ modelling.

  Oh, my mom wasn’t happy. She thought I’d develop an eating disorder, get addicted to drugs and try to sleep my way into acting or something. That’d honestly be a better alternative.