The Runaway: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bratva Dark Allegiance Book 2)

by Raven Scott

  Ugh…

  “Yes, just for the full year.” Suspicion narrowed my pupils into slits and thinned my lips. “This seems really one-sided.”

  “Because it is. I told you on the plane, Joci— Anatoly ruined your life because you dumped him. A series of events has led you to America, the one place he can’t reach you. This is your chance to put Russia and Makovich behind you permanently. I do feel bad, believe it or not. Anatoly is my brother, and his actions reflect on me. Keeping you alive five years ago was for this opportunity not only to absolve myself of that lingering guilt, but to fuck with him for being a juvenile piece of shit.” Sniffling a little at that, only the faintest of surprise sparkled behind my eyes. Of course, Aleksander would somehow find a way to twist this into a powerplay. Reaching to rub my face with both my hands, I inhaled deeply from between my palms. “As long as our stay, you’ll be here in this hotel and acting in my entourage, but you’ll have plenty of downtime to research and find a place. I’ve also got permission from Carlyle Santino to reside in New York City unimpeded— provided he meets you first to make sure I’m not trying to spy on him.”

  “That’s fine… How am I going to stay here when you leave?” Picking up the envelope in his lap, Aleksander held it out for me like I was a dog in need of coaxing out from under a sewage grate. Anxiety tingled my fingertips as I slowly reached out. The envelope was smooth against my skin, sagging from the weight of what was inside. My heart started to race as I tore open the top, the sound grating my ears loudly. Exhaling a shaky breath through my nose, my lungs immediately began to burn.

  There, sitting in the envelop according to size, were documents…. Official documents. I almost couldn’t bring myself to reach in for fear they’d turn to ash under my touch. An American ID card— an American birth certificate that showed the right date— an American social security card—

  “… These are fake?” Foreboding gnawed at me as I turned to Aleksander to frown. He gave me nothing. “I’ll get deported back to Russia if anyone ever finds out.”

  “They’re as close to real as I could get. It’s up to you to make sure no one ever does discover they’re fake, Joci.” Makovich practically ruled Russia, had access to the best forgeries in the world at the tip of his finger. He dealt a lot with China, I knew, which gave me some security. But what if someone looks too deep? “Do you want to reconsider?”

  “No—” Answering immediately, I tightened my grip on my papers defensively. Aleksander cracked a knowing smirk, tapping his thighs with his palms before standing with a sigh. Rubbing the thick plastic of my American ID with my thumbs, I followed him with my eyes. “Thank you, Aleksander.”

  “I do not feel pity for you, Joci… but I sincerely hope you do well in America after all you’ve been through.” My cheek twitched in what could’ve been a smile as Aleksander turned on his heel and strode out. Staring blankly at his back, I sunk back onto the bed to duck my head sharply. The pull of my spine wasn’t so bad, suddenly, and my lips trembled from my short, gasping breaths. Right in my hands was my American life— and it might’ve been fake, but who would really look closer?

  There were plenty of illegals in this country doing just fine.

  Sniffling a little, I rubbed my face with my thumbs and lamented through clouded eyes how it’d come to this. This moment, my heart was so full that it struggled to beat, swelling and crowding my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. Blinking back the tears that clung to my eyelashes, I reached a shaking hand to wipe them away roughly.

  Just like that… I’m American.

  “Wow—” Croaking hoarsely, a sob and a laugh rushed to escape my tight throat at the same time. Holding the documents to my chest, I gingerly laid back down on my side to cry tears heavy with joy.

  7

  Joci

  “Joci? Hey…” Jerking awake with a gasp, I glanced up tiredly to find Ophelia nudging my shoulder. Her apologetic smile only made me groan grumpily, and I shook my head with a hard inhale. “We’re going out. Do you want to come?”

  “Yeah, I guess…” Grumbling into my pillow, I heaved a sigh before pulling in my limbs to hold myself on my hands and knees. My eyes were heavy with I blinked, and my face felt raw. “Where?”

  “Did you sleep in your clothes and your makeup last night? It’s all over the place, Joci.” My field of vision was so fuzzy, and I blinked and stretched my face in an effort to clear it. “… You’re staying here? In America?”

  My head whipped up, my eyes finding Ophelia as she gazed at the pile of American documents next to me. Instantly, guilt soured my tongue and stuck it to the roof of my mouth, and I sat on my heels to gulp harshly. Her rounded face twisted I surprise, brows rising, and my own furrowed when her bright, brown eyes met mine. Twinkling with happiness and excitement, her gaze showed no negativity, and she reached to grab my hand and squeeze.

  “Is that why you look like you cried yourself to sleep? Is Aleksander forcing you to stay here if the negotiations go well?” Uh… I didn’t discourage Ophelia’s sympathy, only nodding before hastily gathering up the cards and papers. Stuffing them into the nightstand drawer, I threw my legs over the side of the bed as an ugly feeling roiled in my stomach. “I know he’s a controlling ass, Joci, but America won’t be that bad. At least you can have more freedom.”

  “I really don’t want to talk about it, Ophelia— no offence… I’m still trying to process it all…” I hoped that would be enough to keep her from probing, but I knew Ophelia wouldn’t need to. She was scarily perceptive. Standing up, I ran my hands through my messed hair and took a stabilizing breath before turning to her. “Yeah— I need to take a shower, so it might be a while.”

  “That’s fine. We’re not ready yet, either, and Reece said he’d need an hour or so before we do anything, too. Take your time. We’re trying to think of stuff to fill all day, so if you want to see anything specific, let me know.” Goosebumps washed down my back at the notion of filling the entire day with stupid, strenuous tourist crap. My body ached just thinking of it. “Text me when you’re ready, and I’ll text you when we’re ready to go.”

  “Okay— yeah.” Ophelia walked out of my room as quietly as she’d entered, leaving me to stare at the empty space where’d she’d hung over me. Across the seemingly endless expanse of beige sheet, her phantom presence lingered to haunt me. Reaching sluggishly to hold my elbow, a scowl darkened my face.

  This day was going to suck. And worse— I didn’t want anyone to know about my staying in America, least of all Ophelia. She’d think so far deep into it, but never ask me the questions brewing in her eyes.

  “Shit.” Fishing in my pockets with my other hand, I shimmied out of my high-waisted pants to frown down at my legs. My fingers were cold when I touched the metal plate holding my tibia together. Clenching my jaw hard, my lips thinned as memories beat against the backs of my eyes. The long, dark scar was smooth against my palm, I inhaled deeply through flared nostrils and struggled not to blink.

  ‘Anatoly ruined your life because you dumped him’. Aleksander’s words from last night bubbled up through the thick fog in my head, and I held my breath. Shuffling to the bathroom, I stared at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door. Gingerly pulling my shirt off, my forearms burned even from doing such a simple task before the thin fabric fluttered to the tiled floor.

  I was stupid. I should’ve listened to my gut rot— to my friends’ wariness, who were more reckless than me— but that was exactly why I pursued Anatoly. He was dangerous. He was sexy. He was a bad asshole that lived on the edge.

  Of insanity. Dragging my palms down my abdomen, over the absolutely disgusting scar that stretched almost the entirety of my chest, my scowl morphed into a sneer. The dark line cut from the middle of my sternum all the way to my pelvis, and I was damned lucky that I could hide it. If I wore nice clothes that complimented my body, no one would be able to see that one of my hips was higher than the other. No one would see that one arm was slightly longer t
han the other. No one would see that my fingernails were fake.

  All because I chose, despite my better judgment, to screw around with the Devil.

  Reaching to unclasp the front of my bra, I covered my breasts and gulped down the sudden tightness in my throat. Goosebumps pockmarked my skin in blotches, and I hoovered up a shallow breath before lowering my hands.

  My stomach roiled dangerously as I pushed my breasts together to stretch wide the angry, raised marks on their sides. Each, thin line sent tendrils of pin-needle pain through my breasts and down my side. I was so used to it, now, that it didn’t bother me as much as it had. How sad.

  Turning away from my reflection, I focused on my shower rather than the horrors behind or in front of me. Reaching to twist the shower knob, a strange sensation rattled up my arm; if I didn’t babysit Lyov, I might be impressed by this hotel. He’d gone many places and threw up in probably every single one, but they were always fancy.

  Shaking my head furiously, I wandered out of the bathroom to kneel over my suitcase, but I couldn’t wipe my frown from my face. So many different thoughts threatened to converge together in a volatile maelstrom against my eye sockets. Nothing I owned would reveal any of my scars, but that wasn’t my problem right now.

  All day were the two words I dreaded. I couldn’t just tell Ophelia that my body couldn’t handle simple, everyday activities like sitting for more than 10 minutes, or touch the back of my head.

  “I’ll just have to grin and bear it.” My grumble was loud in the otherwise empty, still hotel room, and I gathered up my outfit to sigh. Closing my eyes, I wiggled my toes against the carpet and inhaled a readying breath. “I can do this. I have to do this.”

  If I couldn’t firm my resolve, I would never make something of myself here. For so long, I pined for an opportunity like this. All I had to do was power through. I had so many things to do that, surely, this tour around New York City was a one-time deal. Not to mention, Ophelia knows I’m staying, just not why. Which means I don’t have to lie about my English lessons or not wanting to spend time with them.

  “Jacob was right— I need a plan.” Last night at the bar flooded my mind’s eye while I arranged my clothes on the bed. Jacob’s sweet smile and dancing gaze flashed behind my eyelids when I blinked, and a small smile of my own tilted my lips. He was nice, and I would call him… at some point. Hopefully. He doesn’t work today. Maybe I’ll run into him.

  Struggling to wash my hair didn’t seem so daunting from that thought. Under the drone of water pounding on tile, a strange sensation bloomed in my chest. Jacob was my secret— the secret being I was certain we’d see each other again somehow. As juvenile as it was, and as stupid as it was to trust a stranger, I just couldn’t help myself. He had a gentleness that a person wasn’t capable of faking.

  What if it’s all a setup to spy on Aleksander? That thought nearly stopped my heart, but I shook my head hastily and clenched my jaw hard. Aleksander had said it himself— I was useless, and he wanted me gone. There was no way that Carlyle Santino following me around would amount to anything. Aleksander wanted me gone, and my favorable parting conditions were just proof of that. If Carlyle Santino did agree to meet with me for some nefarious reason, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

  8

  Jacob

  “I’m not going out with you anymore, you fucking idiot— I can’t believe you said that like that.” Despite the venom in my words, Caleb and I were currently walking the streets of Manhattan together. Why? Because I had decided to make the long, long trip for the best pizza in the city— and told him I was. Reaching to rub the back of my neck, I paused when my elbow flashed in my peripheral vision.

  Last night flashed behind my eyelids when they shuttered, capturing that moment when Joci reached up too high. Lowering my arm, I frowned at the crowded pavement as I wondered… could I go a single day without raising my elbow to my shoulder or higher?

  “You’re still mad about that? I don’t get what the big deal is— it was an honest mistake, Jacob!” Why haven’t you apologized for it, then? It wasn’t as if Caleb could apologize to Joci, but he could at least apologize to me. I could never go to that bar again because of him. His dumbass ignorance cut short my time with her, even if it was only by a few minutes. Yet, not a single word out of his mouth portrayed that he thought he did anything wrong.

  Under my jacket, I was sweating, and I pulled my fist out of my pocket to check the time. We’d taken the train, and I’d finished my paperwork for the day, but I was in such a rush for some reason. Puffing a thick, white cloud as I stopped outside a crowded crosswalk, I fished out my pack of cigarettes absently.

  “If a chick was that into me… I guess I’d be pissed, too, I guess.” Caleb’s tentative grumble drew my gaze to his pinched expression. Sourness stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth at how uncomfortable he looked while I plucked out a smoke and my lighter. “She was pretty hot, too.”

  “… You’re an idiot, Caleb.” Frowning as I sparked up, I took a deep, toxic breath and held it when the crossing light turned green. Shuffling along with all the other people trying to get wherever they were going, I ignored my cousin and tried to forget he was next to me. Exhaling heavily, I watched the smoke rise up to dissolve in the frosty air; as a pack a week smoker— extremely casual— I rarely smoked cigarettes two days in a row.

  Yet, I felt like a creep just standing outside the bar with Joci, staring, while she was obviously in pain.

  “Did you get her number?” On the sidewalk, I halted mid-step to frown at my cousin. Irritation and quizzicality in equal measure mingled in my blood— how could someone be so ignorant of the world? His brows rose, head ducking insistently, and I pulled my cigarette from between my lips to lick them heavily.

  “No— I’m not paying 8$ a text message because she’s got a Russian cell phone. Just because she’s in the U.S. doesn’t mean it’s not international, Caleb.” I knew for a fact that Aunt Jess paid off Caleb’s history teacher in high school to get him to pass— it wasn’t a secret. She constantly lamented that he was going to have to repeat a year. Of course, it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination that Caleb was also pushed through senior year because he was such a damn nuisance, and none of the teachers wanted to deal with him again. The wonders of public education.

  Rounding a corner, I spotted the place by the line leading up to it, and a groan of foreboding stuck in my throat. I wished this craving hit me earlier as I positioned myself at the 30-strong string of people. Maybe then, I would’ve been able to make this trip alone, too. Tossing my barely smoked cigarette butt on the sidewalk, I crushed the cheery under my heel to rock back on it.

  “Do you have anything to do tomorrow, Jacob? I was thinking of heading up to Connecticut to the casino to blow some of my Christmas bonus.” Surprise rose my brows at Caleb’s offer, and my head snapped down.

  “You already got your Christmas Bonus? I don’t get mine until the end of next week.” Caleb’s face twisted in discomfort, and my irritation intensified as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Caleb…”

  My cousin turned away from me at my drawl, hiding hid face behind his jacket’s high neck. Suspicion clouded my gaze, but I just shook my head and shuffled along with the line. Caleb was a busser at some restaurant; it wasn’t even one of those really fancy, good ones, either. If I had to guess, I’d say his ‘Christmas bonus’ was just tips he’d swiped from servers over the course of the year.

  At least saving it all was a commendable feat, because he wasn’t going to screw me over if anyone found out. And they always find out. That’s why you got laid off from your last job. That’s why I won’t help you find a better job. I don’t want that shit on me.

  Caleb always managed to fuck his life up somehow purely by doing shady shit. Most of the time, he just moved on to the next bad idea, and he wasn’t dangerous per say. Watching him try to shirk off the atmosphere, I reached to scratch my jaw with stiff fingers. That was always my problem— he never did
anything bad enough to warrant a harsh reaction like being kicked out or cut off.

  “Sometimes, I really wish you’d fuck off, move out, and leave me alone, Caleb.” Graveness roughened my tone, and I frowned as my cousin’s head whipped up. His eyes widened, jaw slack as his hair ruffled from shock. At this point, I didn’t care about his feelings anymore, though. “You make enjoying my time alone so fucking difficult, and I want you to disappear from my life. You’re not someone I want to spend any time with. I only let you live with me because Mom and Aunt Jess asked me. You never do anything bad enough to get kicked out, but this skirting the line shit— I’m done with it, Caleb. You have 2 weeks to find a new place as of Monday.”

  “No— No, Jacob— if this is about last night, I—” Caleb’s voice got loud and high with panic, drawing attention from around us as he held out his hands pleadingly. “I can’t afford living by myself! Jacob, I’m sorry for being late, and insulting your girlfriend by accident. Come on— please— I’m gunna be homeless.”

  “That’s not my problem, Caleb. If you needed me, you should have been a little bit more considerate of what your bullshit puts me through.” I couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly, Caleb having a Christmas bonus was what set me off. Of course, it’s entirely possible that he’d get something, but I was supremely suspicious that it’d be enough to partition into a trip to a casino. He opened his mouth, trying to find words, but ultimately clamped his lips shut as his face turned red.