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

by Raven Scott

  “Do you know what I figured out these past few days, Joci?” Humming softly in question, Joci shuffled a little closer to me; our destination wasn’t that far from my workplace, but we had to take the train back to my apartment. There was plenty of time to talk. “I like you, and even though I can’t pinpoint the reason, I know it’ll take a whole Hell of a lot to not want you.”

  “For a long time… he didn’t break me…” Darkness infected her tone, making it colder than even the air, and my whiskers bristled in anticipation. “… but he wasn’t trying to. It took everything I had, but he had no effort.”

  “Joci…” My heart ached for her, and I reached my free hand to caress the crown of her head. “If what you want is someone that puts effort into you, I don’t think you have to look far. You haven’t come all this way for nothing. I promise you.”

  “… I hope not.” There was so much longing in those three, small words, and I couldn’t help but frown deeply. Clenching and releasing my jaw behind thinned lips, I buried my fingers deep in her hair. I swore, Joci groaned as my fingertips rubbed forward, my nails scraping her scalp back and repeating. She derived such simple, intense pleasure from something so small.

  “Do you think your dad will like me?” The question threw me as we rounded a corner, and I cleared my throat under knit brows. “My dad loved me, and I loved him… but we never got along. He was an asshole, and I was a bitch. I wished I could tell him I was sorry before Anatoly beheaded him.”

  “I’m sure my dad will like you, Joci.” Of course, what the Hell else was I supposed to say? And it was true— my dad probably would like her. “He’s the kind of man that doesn’t listen to gossip. My mom going on and on about you being a mail-order bride that can’t speak English is just noise he won’t listen to. He’ll meet you first and decide on you, not on what other people say. When I was growing up, it sucked because he was always right when he said my friends were using me.”

  “They were?” Grunting in acknowledgment, I glanced down as Joci tilted her head into my hand. It was a little awkward, holding my arm like this, but she was the perfect height for it. “My parents did okay. My dad worked for Makovich— a worker among many. I miss my friends, but after Anatoly… I couldn’t face them. They told me not to, and I ignored them.”

  “My parents both worked growing up, so we had a good amount of money. We had a pool in our backyard, went skiing on Winter break, and camps in the summer. Caleb was my best friend, but I had other friends. A lot of the people I knew liked Caleb better than me because he was more fun.” I used to be bitter about the whole situation until I realized… Caleb was gonna be a loser. And, what do you know? I was right. “My whole family gets together for Thanksgiving. I’m the second youngest, and my sister takes care of my parents, but my two brothers have two kids each.”

  “There’s only Christmas in Russia— Thanksgiving is really American. What do you eat?” Oh, right… Thanksgiving is American. Remembering not everyone in the world celebrating the same events is an active process.

  “Right. We eat turkey, and mashed potatoes, and lots of pie— it’s a lot of fun. No doubt it’ll be a little awkward, but my family is pretty welcoming. It’s honestly hard to describe if you’ve never done it. If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. I usually leave around 4:30 to take the 6 Westbound train home. And, Joci— don’t worry about my mom. She’s just upset I kicked Caleb out. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “I’m not worried? I don’t care about your mom.” That was a curious thing, and she huffed lightly before turning those big, brown eyes at me from under her thick lashes. “What’s bad enough? What’s bad, but not bad? I can’t stop thinking… what’s bad enough? You don’t want Caleb. That should be good for her, but it’s not.”

  “Oh… that…” Unfurling my arm around Joci’s waist, I replaced my hand to scratch my jaw and rub the back of my neck in discomfort. “Yeah. My mom just wants everyone to be happy and not make drama, even if it means they’re unhappy and quiet about it. Caleb is family, but I put up with him for a long time for no other reason. He didn’t make my life better, but he also didn’t really make my life worse. That’s the problem, and my mom doesn’t get that. If Caleb doesn’t make my life better, he has no place in it.”

  “You had a girlfriend before— why break up?” Rolling my jaw as we wandered through the crowded sidewalks, I bopped my head side to side at that question.

  “Linda just wanted too much from me. She was graduating college— uni— and was planning on moving back home to some nameless village in Arkansas. I was finally secure at my job, and I wasn’t going to move out of New York City. She had the great idea of asking me to quit and find a job in her town, but the place didn’t even have a proper grocery store— it was that small. So, I broke up with her. We were together for, like, 3 years, almost, but it wasn’t that hard. I never really missed her because there was no point. There was no way I would compromise with her. She also started talking a lot about kids, and I didn’t want them at the time.”

  “Anatoly is evil. I broke up with him on the phone, and he killed my family for it. He got in trouble for it, though.” Joci never seemed bitter when talking about this guy— sad, yeah. Regretful? Yes, definitely. But she never sounded like she hated him. “His brother came— my boss, now. Anatoly will go forever knowing he can’t get me. It sucks for him.”

  “I bet it’s great for you, though, Joci. That you know he’ll be angry and powerless because you lived and are somewhere he can’t reach you. Do you ever think of him before you realized he was evil?” She shrugged rather than answer me verbally, but I could feel that I was pushing it with my probing. Ruffling her hair a little, I smiled when she frowned at me. “Well, you’re with me now, and I’m pretty sure I’m not evil.”

  “… You’re just dumb, Jacob.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Joci pouted as we walked the streets. She kept quiet, eyes on the concrete slabs underfoot as my own reluctantly left her. Whatever she wanted to show me tonight was going to change my life— for better or worse, I didn’t know.

  I guess, in a way, it didn’t matter. Either I’d suck it up and keep seeing her, or I’d be plagued for the rest of my life letting her get away. At least, I wanted to keep seeing Joci until I had a real reason not to. And scars didn’t bother me. Everyone had them.

  18

  Joci

  Once again, I found myself in Jacob’s apartment, and I set my bag on the kitchen counter to stare at it. Inside was a real American phone, with American words, and an American number. I hadn’t opened the boxes, and tension thrummed through my entire body. My heart beat too hard, too fast, threatening to stop completely as I struggled to breathe.

  But this was the right thing to do. Jacob deserved to know the truth— to see for himself. Closing my eyes, I took a shallow, stabilizing breath into lungs ravaged by the fire of anxiety. Reaching to pull the shoulders of my dress down, goosebumps followed closely as the fabric irritated my skin. I gulped down the dense lump in my throat, turning to Jacob while he hooked up his coat.

  Just do it, and then it’ll be over. That was the only thing running through my mind as I pushed my dress down. I was wearing anything underneath because… what was the point? Forcing my eyelids apart, I almost stopped when I noticed Jacob was preoccupied with his phone. Just do it. Just do it.

  “Do you want to—” Beautiful, light blue eyes flickered to me only to snap up, the ring of color disappearing as shock rippled across his sharp, masculine features. My dress pooled at my feet, leaving nothing to his imagination, and I clenched my hands into tight fists by my sides. Every disgusting mark on my body tingled, even the ones he couldn’t see, and it took all my energy not to cover myself.

  I knew what I looked like— as if I’d been cut in half and sewn back together. The thick, jagged mess reaching down my torso quivered as a shiver tucked between my shoulder blades. Horrific scars stretched horizontal around my sides, and I couldn’t breathe even wh
en I bent to pushed down my thigh-high socks. More scars. More lines. More ugliness.

  The silence rang shrilly in my ears until Jacob’s phone slipped out of his fingers to clatter on the hardwood. He didn’t even blink even as a jolt gripped my bones, and black spots assaulted my vision. Underneath his trimmed beard, his face paled as he covered his open mouth with a trembling hand. My nails dug into my palms, the pins holding my joints together grating as tremors and tension threatened to tear me apart form the inside.

  “What the fuck…” The blood drained from my face at his ghostly whisper, and icy prickles washed down my body in powerful waves. My heart strained, and Jacob blinked hard— as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Oh… what the fuck…”

  His voice cracked harshly, and I winced when the sound whipped me in the cheek. Ducking my head, I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around myself. Cotton stuffed down my throat, and my eyes throbbed as the tension in me jeopardized their position in my head.

  “M— most of these…” Croaking hoarsely, I struggled a short, hot breath that only fed the flames engulfing my lungs. “They’re from being fixed. I have metal everywhere. And… I’m missing parts. So… I don’t…”

  “What? A doctor did that to you?” Jacob’s shout send me three feet in the air, and I backed up as he advanced. In two strides, he was on me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the torture on his face. “Joci, no— no…”

  His face was so close that I could feel his beard against my chin, and he pinned me against the counter between powerful arms. Wild eyes roiled like an angry ocean, and I held myself very still when they trailed down. Horrified, his lips trembled, opening and closing but with nothing coming out. Smooth fingertips touched the scars on my breast with feathery softness, and my heart stuttered dangerously.

  “You... what? What does that mean— missing parts?” Reaching to take his hand, I hated the icy slickness that coated his palm. Intense, wide eyes met mine, and I pressed his fingers between my breasts, where the scar starts.

  “Part of my lung.” My voice trembled something terrible, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. Dragging his hand down to one of the horizontal branches, I sucked in a shallow breath through flared nostrils. “Kidney… part of my stomach. My spleen.”

  The opposite side, lower, though. All the while, Jacob’s disturbed expression deepened and darkened and twisted. The gnawing at my gut intensified, a disgusting taste coating my tongue as I licked my lips.

  “My appendix.” Lower… lower… all the way down. “My right ovary.”

  Anything that I could live without had been removed. The damage Anatoly had inflicted on me was so bad that it was a wonder I was alive. Against my pelvis, Jacob’s hand flexed, and I glanced down as I tangled my fingers through his.

  “My bones are together because of pins. He ripped it all apart. My legs… my arms… my ribs… even my toenails. He ripped them off.” I could see it all falling apart when I blinked— these past few days of tentative bliss… it was all gone. It was all fake. It was all a lie.

  This was the price I paid for my freedom— to spend it alone.

  Why did I do this to myself? Was this what Ophelia felt when I told her to go to Aleksander alone? Did this fear overwhelm everything, even just for a fraction of a second, when that second stretched into a lifetime?

  “I’m sorry, Jacob.” My whisper lacked sound, and I tensed when his head whipped up. The beating of my heart raged against my skull, growing louder when Jacob reached to cup my cheek. He shook his head wordless, his unfathomable sorrow endlessly swirling in cloudy eyes. His fingers loosened around mine, and my eyes boggled when he captured my lips in a shattering kiss.

  Blinking hard, I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose as shock jolted my body like a lightning strike. Jacob’s hands grappled my ass hard, his short nails digging into my flesh before he hoisted me up onto the counter. My heart clogged my throat even as he tried to shove his tongue down it, and I clawed at his sides in confusion. Clammy palms dragged down my thighs, locking my knees over his hips before his hands flew back to hold either side of my face.

  Tearing his mouth from mine, his tongue left me gasping furiously, and Jacob wrapped both his arms around me so I couldn’t get away. Did I want to get away? What was even happening? Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed saliva down between my breasts, and my mouth hung, but no sound came out. He sucked my nipple between his teeth, his hand trying to be everywhere at once as my brain just tried fruitlessly to keep up with him.

  “Fuck—” Nimble fingers played between the scars marring my breast, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Turning my face away while Jacob trailed sloppy kisses up my neck, I ground my teeth against the roiling in my stomach. His harsh pants dried my skin as he kneaded my breasts, squeezing them together to stretch the scar tissue. I could feel his eyes on every part of me, his palms dragging down my front on either side of the puffy, dark mutilation. Whimpering pathetically when he reached my center, I quivered from the enormous strain on my body.

  Jacob’s long fingers curled over my shoulders, following the thick scars there before wrapping around my neck and jaw. The soft past of his thumbs rose the fine hairs on my cheeks as he brushed them, gently coaxing me to face him. His eyes bored holes into me— so deep and violently searching and upset— and I gulped as incredibly short, hot breaths stung my nostrils.

  If he wanted to say something, Jacob kept his mouth shut while he picked me up off the counter. His sauntering gait banged against my stiff body— I couldn’t even wrap my arms around him. I refused to open my eyes even as he set me on his bed, holding himself over me on trembling hands and knees. Those icy prickles sweeping down my chest intensified, and the darkness behind my lids tinged red.

  “Joci…” My flesh bristled at Jacob’s croak as he rushed up my front, and I couldn’t hold my tears behind my tightly shuttered lids anymore. He sounded so sad, so empty, so mad, all at once, and I… I hadn’t cried in a long time.

  19

  Joci

  Staring at Jacob through swollen, throbbing eyes, I reached to wipe my nose with a tissue pilfered from the nightstand behind me. Sniffling harshly, I opened my mouth to exhale a shaky breath in preparation.

  “I don’t want you to… be…” My tongue failed me, but he seemed to know what words I couldn’t find. He always knew what I wanted to say, even though my English wasn’t great. “You can go… I won’t be mad.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Joci.” A small sob escaped me, and I clamped my hands over my mouth as Jacob’s firm, rough words wrapped around me. He sounded so sure, so confident, so determined, and a shudder raced down my spine before he reached to pry my palms off my face. Glimmering, oceanic eyes, so crystalline now when mere minutes ago, they were a disgusting grey— like a cloud over a huge pile of trash— held mine with fierceness. As if this was Jacob’s one great choice… that once in a lifetime decision that irreversibly changed the course of his life. That profound moment in time where everything was clear, and every moment from now to death was visible.

  “Am I ugly?” Licking my dry, crackling lips nervously, I clenched my hands into tight fists as Jacob covered them with his palms. Wordlessly, he shook his head ‘no’, and I clenched and released my jaw so hard my teeth ached. “But… I’m not pretty, either.”

  “… I think it takes a real special person to think your scars are beautiful right off the bat, Joci… but I’m not one of those people. You’re not ugly because of them, but… no, you’re not pretty, either— no.” I wasn’t sure what was worse— Jacob’s brutal honesty, or his brutal honesty. A war threatened to tear me apart, and he squeezed my wrists gently as his eyes blazed with determination. “It’ll get better. I promise.”

  “I— I believe you.” For some reason, I got the notion that Jacob would be amazed at me— that he would think my body was testament to how strong I was, and that he’d think I was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. That, somehow
, he’d be able to look past the extensive damage, or he’d ignore it and tell me my scars didn’t matter. Now, I realized how much I wanted him to think I was beautiful, but scars… scars weren’t pretty. Scars weren’t kind. Scars evoked sympathy, and now, I knew that I my fantasy had come true, all I’d get is a pity fuck.

  “Most people look better with clothes on, to be honest. That’s why lingerie is a thing.” There was no hiding from that fact, I knew, and Jacob rubbed the insides of my wrists gently. The faint scars there burned, heat slithering up my arms, but it wasn’t painful. Actually, it was kinda nice, and I ducked my head to sniffle harshly. “I don’t understand how a doctor could do this to you, Joci.”

  “They’re Makovich doctors. They do what they’re told. They fixed me. They weren’t told to make me pretty.” My mind was strangely quiet, empty, and I frowned as Jacob took a deep, stabilizing breath. “You’re not great. That’s okay, Jacob. I don’t blame you. Much times, I want to keep my clothes on, too.”

  “Hey—” Reaching to cup my chin, Jacob caressed my lips with his thumbs as his eyes captured mine. My heart pounded, his intense attention thickening the goosebumps blanketing my skin. “I’m very, very grateful you showed me. Trust me— I can tell how hard it was for you.”

  “… I can put my dress back on.” Jacob didn’t protest as I took my hands from his to climb off the bed, but his eyes strafed my back. I knew what he saw— the two, long scars trailing down either side of my spine, almost as puffy and disgusting as the one on my front. “Anatoly’s job is to torture people, and he’s really good. I don’t know how long it was, but it felt so small.”

  “I didn’t know shit like that still happened…” Pursing my lips thinly, I rubbed my face with both my hands before shuffling out of the room. Jacob’s apartment was cold and dark without him there to brighten it, and the carpet was prickly against my toes even though my socks. At least he hadn’t tried to take them off.