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

by Raven Scott

  Turning on his heel, Caleb stormed off under the heavy gazes of judgmental strangers, and I sighed hotly through my nose. I was more than capable of sustaining my lifestyle by myself than my cousin. One would think, given the situation, that he’d be a little more outwardly grateful and not actively be a problem.

  Being late to almost everything— being an ignorant ass any time the attention wasn’t on him— expecting me to handle something that doesn’t involve me— Caleb pays rent and part of the utilities, so why does he have to do his own dishes? The disrespect! He only used one fork! Why can I not just wash it with my dinner dishes?

  “Your girlfriend must be happy.” Breaking from my dark thoughts, I jumped in surprise as Joci materialized behind me. She smiled, her smooth, pale face rosy and eyes bright with happiness. “Hello, Jacob.”

  “Joci— yeah, hey—” Gingerly wrapping an arm around her waist, I hugged her lightly, and the strangest sensation tingled my side. “I don’t know about happy, but at least she got an apology… even though it wasn’t to her face. What are you doing in Manhattan?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. I’d rather hang out with you.” Smiling broadly, I nodded as the line became a little shorter; there were so many people around that it’d take us 20 minutes just to step foot in the pizza place. Joci gazed up at me, the thick eyeliner making her doe-brown eyes bigger, and my mouth dried as expectancy locked my lungs. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, of course you can. Are you hiding from your friends again?” She nodded without any hesitation, a shadow passing through her eyes before they left mine. Curiosity sparked in my chest, but I ignored it for the moment as I unhooked my arm from her waist. “I may have been a little harsh on Caleb, but his shit needs to stop. It’s worse knowing I don’t have a usual reason to kick him out. You were right, Joci. I don’t want him around, and that’s got to be reason enough.”

  “He’s an asshole.” Chuckling as she waved her hand in dismissal, I nodded before Joci reached to grab my hand. Her unexpected touch sent shocks up my arm, and my brows furrowed as she pressed my palm against the small of her back. Under her jacket but over her shirt, the hairs on the back of my hand bristled when she arched, a pained expression thinning her lips. The pop of something under her skin was loud and shifted noticeably under my palm, and alarm bells rang in my head. “I’m sorry— my back hurts, and I can’t reach.”

  9

  Joci

  I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder nervously, and my brows furrowed as I scanned the crowded streets. With so many people, the cold air wasn’t so cold, but I shuffled closer to Jacob anyway. His lean arm against my back tightened slightly, his warmth radiating through his and my coats to seep into my ruined skin.

  “Is everything okay, Joci?” Jacob’s murmur laced thickly with concern, and I nodded automatically. My body ached dully— everywhere was a time bomb just waiting for the moment I sit down to go off. “I don’t believe you, but okay.”

  “… I’ve been all over all day long. It’s not good.” I didn’t like anyone knowing how fragile I really was, and he hummed softly in acknowledgment. My chest tightened at those words I’d never spoke before. They left a bad taste on my tongue. “It’s a secret.”

  “I’m pretty good at those.” Jacob wouldn’t press me for details, but, maybe, that’s why I felt like I could give them. Inhaling a sharp breath, I folded my arms over my chest and rocked back on my heels into his side. We were slowly but surely getting closer to the pizza place, and even my watering mouth couldn’t wash away the sourness on my tongue.

  “My ex tortured me for breaking up with him. No one knows how bad it is.” Tensing with a slight hitch of his breath, Jacob frowned as I glared at the ground. I couldn’t look at his face, and anger at my own stupidity pouted my lips. “He hold me above the floor— that’s why my arm caps hurt like that. There’s other stuff, too.”

  “Oh… that’s… I don’t really know what to say to that.” I shrugged lightly, scuffing the heel of my boot against the concrete. Jacob didn’t make me look at him, only flexing his palm against my back as he sighed roughly. “That’s some shit. Is that why you moved here? You’re not safe or something in Russia?”

  “Yeah. He can find me anywhere— anywhere but America. He’s not allowed in America.” My English really needed work, and that shame heated my face as silence nestled between us. “I broke up with him because he’s evil.”

  “Sounds like it.” What else was there to say about Anatoly? Nothing. I didn’t want to talk about him. I didn’t want him to linger over me like a ghost whose only purpose was revenge. Moving to America wouldn’t mean anything if I didn’t leave Anatoly in Russia. “Do you have anyone to talk to about this kind of thing? Are you going to see a therapist?”

  “I’m not sure yet. We still have to sign stuff. When they go back, I am here— until then, I am planning. Like you said, Jacob. It’s better to have a plan. I didn’t come here with one, but I can make one.” Resolve firmed in my chest at my own words, and I shook my head wildly to free myself of my disturbing thoughts. Jacob’s warm smile shone on me like the weak sun peeking through dark clouds heavy with snow. “How about your day?”

  “I feel a lot better now that Caleb’s not on my ass. He’s been bugging me since he got home at 2-ish. He works doubles all weekend, so he’ll be too tired to argue with me about kicking him out, at least.” Interest twitched my brows, and Jacob reached his free hand to rub the back of his neck and roll his head in discomfort. “He just got on my nerves. He invited himself with me when I told him I wanted to go alone, and then got upset that I was annoyed with him.”

  “Yeah. Why you didn’t lose him on the train? That’s what I did.” American transportation was disgustingly congested, but it could be that I just wasn’t used to it. Watching Jacob shrug lightly and shake his head, I pursed my lips thinly. “You grow up in New York City?”

  “Yeah, I did. It’s harder to get rid of people once you get the flow of human traffic. It becomes a thoughtless process to find someone in the crowd. How are you handling the culture shift?” My mind went blank at that question, and we shuffled along as I tried to find an answer. The smell of American pizza was thick in the frigid air, muddying my thoughts even more.

  “If I was poor, it would be worse. Rich people can do a lot of Western stuff.” Even though I’d been living off Makovich money these past five years, I didn’t think that detail mattered. “The world is smaller for rich people. Have you been outside America?”

  “I went to Mexico a few times in college to party, but… no, not really. I’m not missing anything. Travel is stressful. So, where did you go today, Joci? How’d you end up here?” I glanced behind me again, a sigh of relief slithering up from deep in my chest. “I’m surprised your friend didn’t try to call you, yet.”

  “I turned my phone off. It’s fine. We went to see the Statue of Liberty and Time Square. It started to hurt after that. They’re somewhere around here. Ophelia doesn’t know. I’m glad I found you.” His smile rustled his thin stubble, and heat suffused my cheeks. Rolling my lower lip between my teeth, my heart thundered, and the marred skin on my back tightened when Jacob pressed his palm just above my ass.

  “I’m flattered you turned off your phone to spend time with me.” Oh— I hoped Jacob would kiss me, and blood drummed furiously in my ears. His face drew close, until I was worried his beautiful features would distort from my eyes crossing. “I’m glad you found me, too, Joci.”

  Slowly, Jacob raised his arm out of the extreme peripheral of my vision, and the fine hairs on my face stood up. Anticipation tingled my lips as my heart went wild. Closing my eyes, I held my breath in flaming lungs before his fingertips pressed against my forehead.

  And, so, so gingerly, Jacob ran his fingers up my crown and through my hair. Wisps of hair tickled my face as he pulled them back, and pleasure coursed through my veins. Sucking in a sharp breath through my nose, I clenched my jaw hard as the unfamiliar sensation of my hair
moving rippled down my neck. He scratched my crown, his fingers firm even while I craned into his touch. Hugging myself to keep my scars from bursting open at the incredible euphoria of such a simple action, I gripped the sides of my jacket with white-knuckle tightness.

  “You’re so cute— like a cat.” A shiver lodged between my shoulder blades, and I tensed as my eyelids popped open. Jacob’s eyes glittered with tenderness, his fingers burying deep in my hair to slide down. Licking my lips heavily, I cleared my throat a little, but the dense lump there didn’t budge.

  “No one touches me… there.” That sounds bad! My pupils blew as my own faltering confession echoed in my ears, but Jacob’s hand against my lower back stopped me from stepping away. Palming the back of my head, he held my cheek to his chest to knead my scalp.

  “That’s really good for me, then.” Embarrassment thickened my tongue until I couldn’t breathe, and he pulled back to smirk at me. Blood rushed to my face, and I gulped harshly when his hands finally fell from me. Humming a strangled sound, I jerked my head in a nod as my frazzled nerves tingled wildly.

  “Uh— Uh— so… so— p-pizza…” The flames engulfing my face intensified, and I reached to keep my cheeks from melting right off my skull. “You’re terrible.”

  “Sometimes.” Peeking out between my fingers at the dull reply, my breath hitched when Jacob’s smirk faded. “I was up all night thinking about it— how do you wash your hair— scratch an itch— what happens if it’s really windy out? You can’t put your hair in a ponytail.”

  “A what?” My brows furrowed in confusion, and Jacob didn’t miss a beat as he reached to gather up my hair. Parting in an ‘o’, my mouth dried while his considerations rolled around in my head. “I don’t know. I do this—”

  Reaching up, my fingers barely inched higher than my ears, and I had to duck my head to reach… even then, I couldn’t quite make it. My fingertips never got within inches of each other. After so many years, so many worse issues than itchiness or hair in my face, I had almost forgotten what it was like. To run my hand through my hair and free my gaze without whipping my head all around like a crazy person.

  Jacob watched me quizzically, but there was no pity in his eyes. Of course, he was a little out of his element— that much was expected— but he didn’t look like I saddened him.

  Which was a first.

  10

  Joci

  “Have you been with anyone since the evil guy?” Jacob wiped his mouth with a napkin as he sat back, and I didn’t stop chewing to answer. Shaking my head, I marveled at how this pizza didn’t lose its taste despite the conversation. It’s amazing. Truly. “I was dating a girl for a while— 3 years, almost. She tried to convince me to move back to her Podunk hometown somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I like New York City, and I can afford to live here.”

  “I have sex sometimes— not a lot, though. I haven’t dated. I have bad limits. Sometimes, they got mad I would leave right after. Like they didn’t like feeling like they were used.” Jacob chuffed a little at that, and I frowned a little as I folded up my pizza slice. Grease dribbled down the cheese, pooled in the pepperoni— it was glorious. I’d never told anyone about myself, but it all just came out to him. “I can’t take off my clothes, but guys don’t care.”

  “I went to high school with a guy that only thought tits were hot with a shirt on— I think nipples freaked him out. One time, during swimming class, he took off his shirt, and his nipples were taped over.” My brows rose high at that, a bark of laughter bursting from my pizza-stained lips. The mental image was insane, and Jacob smirked as I took another big bite of my slice. “You never had any weirdos in... how does Russia’s school system work, anyway?”

  “We go to age 15, then Uni or work— that’s the simple way to say.” Mumbling around my bite, I swallowed roughly before realizing I had reached the crust. Licking my lips heavily, my gaze trained on Jacob across the small, circular table. “We do. I just ignore them. They’re losers… I would be loser, too, if…”

  “Your English is a lot better than yesterday, Joci. You getting used to it? Have you spoken any Russian since getting here?” I shook my head, and he hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Does it take a toll on you— not speaking Russian?”

  “It hurts my brain.” Nibbling on the crunchy end of the crust, I frowned at my own declaration. Jacob smiled that gentle smile, and the crowded place around us suddenly vanished. “I have to practice. My boss got me a teacher.”

  “Seems out of character for him, honestly.” Nodding, it took me a long moment to realize that Jacob wasn’t the one that spoke. My head snapped up, pizza slipping onto the paper plate in front of me. The blood drained from my face as Carlyle Santino— in all his glory— stood over me like I was a bug he wanted to squash. His face portrayed nothing. He wasn’t even guarded, just staring with dead eyes and a blank, empty expression.

  “What are you doing here?” Carlyle grabbed a chair, flipped it around backwards, and sat to prop his forearms on the curved back in one smooth motion. My question was overly loud in my ears, and I held my breath as he arched a thick brow at me curiously.

  “I see you’re already making yourself comfortable here.” His voice was grating, and goosebumps washed my entire body under my clothes when he cocked his head at me. “You don’t give off the vibe of a corporate spy, I admit. Surely, you have no objections to my asking why Aleksander brought the issue of you to the negotiating table. Why should I allow it?”

  “Please… Russia is not safe. I don’t have a place, anymore.” This was bad— this was bad!– but I couldn’t find anything else in my scrambled brain to push out of my mouth. Carlyle Santino just watched me, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of my neck through bristling hairs. “I’m not a spy.”

  “… I suppose that’s good enough. I am curious, though—” Eyes flashing with lightning narrowed into slits, and I tensed in pure fear. “What mess is under those clothes? From what I understand, you were tortured for almost a month. I bet you have some nasty scars. I heard Anatoly tried to cut your breasts off at your ribs, but Aleksander decided that moment to remind his idiot little brother of his place. Do you know how frustrating it is to be stopped in your tracks right at the good part? No wonder it’s not safe for you there.”

  “What the fuck!” Blurting out the slur angrily, Jacob drew my gaze as he stood up so furiously his chair fell over behind him. “What the Hell is wrong with you—”

  “Jacob, no!” Blazing eyes full of disgust met mine to soften, but the red tinging his face and outlining the bulging vein in Jacob’s forehead didn’t dull. My stomach roiled dangerously as I silently pleaded, a strange desperation seeping from my pores. Resistance slowed his movements, reaching back to grab the chair and set it right. His knees cracked from how tense he was when they bent, and a tiny huff of relief dried my nose.

  “I’m sure you’ll be very careful not to jeopardize your life by drawing my attention, Joci.” Carlyle stood up, putting his borrowed chair back only to cast me one, final, warning glance. “It’d be a shame to waste your future on a Makovich.”

  Ducking my head, I stared at the edge of the table barely large enough to fit two plates. Aleksander’s hard gaze left me struggling to breathe, and my heart faltered when that weight finally lifted. The silence was all-encompassing, my brain too dazed to register anything going on around me.

  Because, surely, a guy yelling at another guy over a girl wasn’t unusual, and no one cared much. That anonymity was beautiful, and I wanted to lose myself in it. I wanted to be drawn so far down that not even Carlyle Santino could find me.

  “I should go.” Gulping down the cotton in my mouth, I forced my tired, battered body out of the chair. Carlyle Santino came to intimidate me, and he sure as shit achieved his goal. Blinking hard, I turned to Jacob as he clenched and released his fists far below his pinched, downturned face. “Thank you for standing up for me, Jacob.”

  “Wh— wait. Joci.” Standing up once again, Jac
ob’s expression instantly morphed with panic. “I’ll walk you back. What hotel are you staying at?”

  “I… I can’t remember right now.” Putting on my jacket with dragging movements, I winced as fiery pain shot down my shoulder blades. Hastily, he reached to help me, his arm securing around my back to lead me out of the tiny pizza shop. The place was so packed that it wasn’t safe, but I found myself closing my eyes and leaning into Jacob’s chest.

  “I’ll order us a ride.” I didn’t have it in me to argue, and Jacob fished his phone out of his pants pocket. For the first time, I noticed he was wearing jeans. I can’t wear jeans. I couldn’t wear anything too rough or tight.

  “You can ask.” He paused tapping around with his thumb to look at me, his jaw ticking hard under his scruff. Leaning against him, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath in preparation. “It’s okay.”

  “I know. That’s why I won’t ask. Whoever that guy was— he’s a dick.” His voice deepened and roughened with his anger, and my lip twitched up. Shaking his head viciously, Jacob turned back to his phone to tap a few more times. “Who was he? How did he know about you, Joci?”

  “He’s a guy you don’t yell at.” I didn’t want to tell Jacob anything— that’d just drag him in with me, and I was trying so hard to get out. Reaching to put my hand over his furiously beating heart, I hated the tension coursing through him. “Don’t worry. That was a warning. He won’t make another.”

  “No wonder you want to fuck off to another country if you can say that so easy.” He grumbled more to himself than me, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. The air turned white as it flowed from my nose, the cold nipping at my eyelashes. “You’re not a criminal, are you, Joci?”

  “I’m not. That’s why I’m here. My boss has no use for me.” The thrumming in his lean sinew hiding under his shirt eased at my reassurance. “In Russia… everyone is a criminal, so no one is a criminal.”