Reckoning (Skulls Renegade MC Book 5)

by Elizabeth Knox

  “I am fine,” I tell him, clenching my teeth as harshly as possible. There is so much I want to do to the man that stands before me, the man who promised he would protect me from all harm. It is funny how he is the one who causes it, no?

  No part of me is fine.

  I want to break apart into a million shattered pieces, but right now I cannot do that. I cannot show him any ounce of weakness, and I refuse to do such a thing.

  Never will I let him know he broke me or how badly he hurt me.

  “He did what needed to be done.” I listen to the words that Sergei speaks, bringing my hand over my breast and feeling the bandage. I press a little too harshly and tears come to the back of my eyes.

  Next, I move the covers down slowly and feel my stomach, seeing that now there are two bandages where I recall the screw going in and one big cut from my hip bone, almost as if I had a c-section.

  “Liar! He did no such thing. He hurt me in ways that you couldn’t ever imagine, all because you gave an order. Did you think he would listen and be kind to me? No. Pfft. Why should I only think of him, yes? I should ask myself why you would hurt me in this way, how you can live with yourself knowing what you have done to the only woman who will ever love you? Your own daughter hates you. You want to know why, my love? It is because you are worse than they say. You are not only a monster in your business, but to those who love you as well. Now I understand why Natasha hates you. You took her mother from her, and you’ve taken my child from me. You never deserved to have either of them, her or him.” I spit it out, laced with hatred that I have never felt at any point in my life.

  Sergei Kolosov took almost everything from me today, and I would be damned if I let him take anything else.

  I feel the sting radiating through my face before I even realize he’s hit me. There is nothing that he can do that will shock me any longer. I laugh, staring him dead in the eyes as I speak. “What will you do next, kill me? Please, feel free.”

  I watch as the rage boils through his blood, his face distorting into a flash of shock and then anger. “I will never kill you. No matter what you do, I will never end your life. Others. Never yours.”

  A mixture of anger and sadness takes over me. Angry because of what he did to me and our child, and sadness because this man, in his own fucked up way loves me. If he truly loved me, he would have let me leave with my child. I never would have bothered him ever again. I would have gone in the wind as if I had never known him, starting a new life for myself, but now I will never be able do that.

  I am Katya Kolosov, and I am as strong as he has made me become.

  “Your time will come, and when it does, I hope you suffer in the way that you have made me. That is my wish for you, Sergei. I wish you to choke on your own blood and die alone, wishing to have someone by your side. That loneliness will consume you, and the last thing you will think about before you die will be me and this moment and ultimately how your actions lead you to that place.”

  He snickers, looking down at me he sits on the bed beside me, gripping my hair at the back of my neck and holding my jaw firmly with his free hand. “I was going to let you discover this later, for I did not want you to suffer any more today, lyublyu. Now I do not care. I took our child from you, yes, because it needed to be done. That is not the only thing I took. Do you want to know what it is? Hmmm? Years we had tried for a child, and now you fall pregnant. I have no use for you anymore, you are nothing to me. Katya, I would never allow you to give another what you could not give to me. So, it is simple, I took it. I took all of it.”

  I listen carefully, taking every word as seriously as he speaks it. It is then that I realize what my husband tells me.

  I will never be able to have another child.

  He took away my ability to bear children.

  Sergei ripped away my choice.

  Chapter 6

  “And when her halo broke, she carved the two halves into horns.”

  - Jordan Sarah Weatherhand

  Katya

  Three months have passed since that day. Three months of putting the remaining pieces of myself back together and forging a sword out of the fire. I would never be the same, but I didn’t want to be. If anything, your experiences don’t define you. They allow you to grow and become stronger than ever before.

  I think about my child every day. I didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy, but in my heart, I did know. He is the first thing I think of in the morning before I start my day and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep.

  Over the last couple of months, I have wondered what it is I would do, how I would spend my days going on and on. I can’t lie, it hasn’t been easy to move forward from what happened. The scars on my body constantly remind me of the turmoil I was put through. All I have done is focus on my own wellbeing, healing as long as I need to do so.

  For two months, I was left alone, living in our home in California, just outside of Beverly Hills. One day, I received a notice that Sergei would require me to continue working for him if I was going to be taken care of for the rest of my days.

  He made it a stipulation of our divorce.

  He didn’t tell me, being a sick bastard, instead, sending a private message through courier. Without doing what he needed me to do, I would have no source of income. Yet again, I was trapped. He threw freedom in my face, and still he imprisons me. I am bound to him whether I want to be or not.

  There were a few days when I decided I would not work for him and that I would come to a conclusion on what to do for money. Many things went through my mind, and as each idea came, I knew a way that Sergei would destroy whatever it was that I was trying to build. After all, I know my husband more than anyone else, and yes, he would do such a thing.

  I receive messages through courier on who to meet and where, what I shall be discussing, and that is now my life. So, I am still bound to him.

  This has not been the only thing I have been doing as of late. I always made it a point to pay attention to what is going on in the world around me, and I must say I am glad that I do. In Russia, there has been much chatter about my uncle, who is the leader of the Russian Bratva. Only few know this, and a select few at that. It is no secret that my mother is the bastard child of my grandfather. She was damned from birth, no doubt being the child of a slave girl he had raped. My grandfather must have kept her in his life at some capacity, but of what I do not know. It’s not like she told us these things while we were with her.

  My dear uncle has discovered where my sister and brother are. The only thing that keeps me safe is that I haven’t been a Petrov for years. I am a Kolosov. My marriage has hidden my true identity, and I should be thankful for that. I have plans to go see my sisters and brother over the next few weeks. Yes, I say sisters. Ksenia is my youngest, full blood sister, and we have a younger sister – a child that my mother had after she sold Dmitri, Ksenia and I. She could find a way to save herself, but not her children. Instead, she created a new life for herself, with a new man.

  A Vasile.

  My mother, the hidden Russian princess went from being married to a Russian crime lord to a Romanian mobster. It is no lie that my father was a man who dealt with the darker matters of the business, but his business kept her safe – until it didn’t. So, after she was rid of us children she married someone who she thought could keep her safe and started a new life, filled with happiness and killing her past life. The joke was on her. She and her new beau were murdered in cold blood, leaving my half-sister stuck with her captor for years.

  I can smile now thinking of her, my dear sister who has shown perseverance and strength like no other. She has recently married Ion Petran, the King of the Clans, and my sister sits alongside him. Dear, Mariana.

  My sister does not know of me, or Ksenia, or even Dmitri. The problem here is that my uncle knows of her, and this is not good for any of us. He will come for Dmitri and Ksenia first, but Mariana is his biggest threat. She has blood of Romanian and Russia flowing
through her. If she ever wanted the Bratva, she would have it.

  My cousin Aleks and I have spoken before. He did not know who I was, but he knew who I was married to. I was nothing more than a business partner to Sergei. I have had a mask over me for most of my life, a mask that has protected me in ways some cannot fathom. My task is simple. I will go to my brother and my sisters, telling them of the war that is coming. I am blessed to even have the knowledge that I do. Knowledge that will hopefully ensure our survival. After I speak with my siblings my plan is unclear.

  The only thing that matters to me is my family, for it is all I have left.

  Chapter 7

  None of us should be defined by the worst thing we’ve ever done.

  - Kevin R. Duncan

  Slasher

  She is right. I thought that to myself every time I had a voicemail from Bells. I don’t know why I didn’t answer. I never did. For some reason, it was easier to text her versus speaking to her on the phone. She wanted me to come back to Tennessee, and I told her I would. Now I’m only a few miles away from the club. The hot air hits my body as I speed up the winding roads that lead to the one place I have begun to call home, if I look to the left or the right I can see the scenic views, overlooking farms for most of the trip.

  With every mile marker I was getting closer and closer to Gainesville, a place that I have been away from for far too long.

  The minutes pass by, and the next thing I know I am rolling on into the parking lot. It seems quieter than usual, maybe a bit more eerie. I park my bike up by the front, in my usual spot. When I hop off I stand there for a moment, taking in the air, also thinking about what it is that I’ll say to her.

  I could give a rat’s ass about anyone else. Sure, they’re my brothers. At this point we all know how I am. Flaky as fuck and selfish. Bell though, she doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I’ve been a dick to her these last few weeks. We both went through something unimaginable – together. If anything, we are the only two people who can understand what the other is thinking. I may not have needed her, but I never thought to think about what if she needed me. I was a coward. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Plain and simple. I was a bastard who walked away when she needed me. I’d been through a hell of a lot, being marred to the extent that I have been fucked with my head. What’s worse though, is thinking about how me acting the way I have has effected Bells.

  Don’t get me wrong, I sound like I’m in love with her.

  I’m not.

  I love Bellamy, in a way that no one would ever understand, not even Butch.

  I take step after step, hearing my boots crunch against the gravel as I walk towards the door of the club. When I get there, I reach my hand out, latching onto the door and pull. What I find astonishes me. There is no one in sight.

  I walk further into the club and sit on one of the oversized leather couches, turning the TV on to Fast and the Furious. Reed insisted on buying these couches. The last time I was here we didn’t have enough seating for the full patches, prospects, or even the girls. It’s not like we were packed all the damn time, but we were pretty damn close to it. He’s been buying girls from some Russian bastard, all in the hopes to give them bigger and better lives. It’s no secret that we basically work alongside the FBI, helping them by getting more intel on the bastard that sells them. One day, I assume the Skulls will help bring down that Russian ape. There are things I cannot stand, one of them being how women are sold to the highest bidder like a cow at a livestock auction. They are humans. Not things.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” I hear Jenna’s huffing coming from behind me. Turning back, I look at her, and she cringes, something that happens so often nowadays.

  “I look that terrifying, do I?” I attempt to joke with her, but we both know there is more there. I do look that terrifying. I scare people. There is no avoiding that simple fact. Bellamy loved to tell me that nothing had changed, that I was the same man, but that is where she was wrong.

  I will never be the same man ever again.

  “No, no. It’s just…” I watch her try to come up with a reason for her reaction. She won’t find one, but it’s okay. She doesn’t have to.

  “I’m fugly. It’s alright, Jenna,” I grumble to her, turning back to watch the TV.

  “I can see you’re still a dick. Guess that will never change, huh?”

  “A leopard can’t change its spots, sweetheart.”

  “There’s nothing sweet about me, and you damn well know that.”

  I hear the creak of the front door swinging open which causes us to stop talking to one another. My relationship with Jenna is complicated at best. We used to fuck on and off for ages, she loved every damn second of it, and now she’s tied down to Dmitri. Somehow, I became her sworn enemy. It might have had something to do with me calling her a whore… to be honest, though, I thought I’d be the one she’d get tied down to. Not him.

  “Good lord. Am I seeing things right now…” Her voice is quiet, almost as if she’s in shock. I didn’t plan on turning to face her, expecting to get the same reaction that Jenna just gave me, but when I do – I’m shocked.

  Bellamy doesn’t cringe. What she does is far from that.

  She smiles at me.

  She looks different. Happier than when I last saw her. She’s gained a few pounds, which was much needed. Her red hair is straight and flowing over her shoulders, almost as vibrant as her personality.

  “I missed you,” she whispers it out lowly, her voice shaking through each word. Fuck. I missed this girl so damn much. Our eyes are unwavering, both locked on each other. After so long, I almost forgot what she looked like.

  Bellamy takes step after step closer to me, placing her hand on the marred part of my face, and she starts to cry. Slow, steady tears drizzle down her cheeks. “You don’t ever get to stay away because of this. Do you hear me? Something awful happened to both of us. This does not define who we are. It was an obstacle we both overcame, and I refuse to lose my best friend because of that shitty fucking day.”

  “You’re right,” I say it, openly and honestly because I one-hundred-percent believe in what I’ve just admitted. She’s right, and she always has been. The entire time I was gone she called and texted, continuing to keep the communication channels open with me. “I was afraid after what happened, and I didn’t know what to do,” I whisper it, not wanting Jenna to have a field day with my openness.

  “We were both afraid, why couldn’t you see that?” Bells grabs my hand, squeezing hard as she stands up on her tippy toes, trying to reach my cheek. I do her a favor and lean down cause there’s no way in hell she’s gonna reach me. She presses a soft kiss to the marred side of my face and wraps me in a hug.

  Yep. That does it. I’ve missed her.

  Chapter 8

  You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. - Bob Marley

  Slasher

  A week passes, and a sense of normalcy is back. Being away for so long I had adapted to the unknown, to life being different every single day. Now, it is quite the opposite. I wake up in the morning to either Elena, Daisy, or Maria making breakfast. There is always plenty of food for us to eat in the fridge. It has been quiet the past few days, but Reed can’t hide the storm that is brewing for shit. Every time he walks by, I can see there is something he is thinking about.

  I’ve been gone long enough to not know exactly what’s going on. I will be making it my mission to find out today. There’s no reason to hide shit. If something is going down he needs to tell us, all of us.

  “Yo,” I say to him. He stops dead in his tracks, motioning for me to join him in his office. I follow closely behind, shutting the door to his office when we’re both inside.

  “I take it no one has been updating you on the impending shitstorm we’ve been dealing with.” I shake my head at his statement. “That’s what I fucking thought. Where should I start, at the part where I’m getting personal threats f
rom Ramirez to hand Mar over because she belongs to him? Or maybe how the FBI have been tossing as much heat on me as Elena has for not purchasing more women from Sergei. We need room for them, and I finally think I have a fucking solution, so we can make as many purchases as they want. I don’t want it to be suspicious, and if I make large purchases every month I’m going to look like a fucking nark. None of us want that.”

  Before I left, I knew we were having some problems with the cartel. Rafael Ramirez was like a hydra, when you cut one head off, three more replace it. I didn’t know all the details, but for some reason he wanted Maria, who Reed had bought from him a couple of years ago alongside two other girls. Reed is a good man, you can see that through and through. He knows when things aren’t right and does a damn good job to fix that.

  “My father is still fucking missing. I can’t find the bastard no matter what I do. Elena and I have used every resource we have and still… nothing.” I listen to Reed go on and on, filling me in on every gritty detail that I’ve missed out on in the last seven months. It seems there was a lot that I needed to catch up on. “I knew he wasn’t around that much, but from the few short talks we had while he was here… it sounded like he was gonna be sticking around for a while. Red flags are going off. I know something is up. I just can’t figure it out.”

  “Relax man. We’ll figure out what happened to your Pops.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Reed mutters, shrugging his shoulders as he goes to sit down on one of the couches in his office. The man has a thing for leather.

  “You gonna tell me what the game plan here is, or am I supposed to scratch my balls ‘til I can figure it out?”

  “Yeah, got sidetracked for a minute. I’d thought about bringing Fist in on shit with the girls. We may have a decent bit of room, but we’ll need more. The FBI wants me to get close to sixty girls next time, and I can’t house all of them if we have the amount we do right now. So, the plan is that I go and speak to the ones who have been here for a while and see who is comfortable with going up to Montana. I know that Fist won’t have a problem with helping us out, he’s a good man, and they’ve got plenty of space in his neck of the woods. The newer girls will stay with us. Jenna and Mar will work with them like they’ve worked with the others.”