Fractured (The Volkov Mafia Series Book 3)

by Harrington, Samantha

  “Thank you,” she says softly into Lilly’s neck.

  “Right, come on. I have some tea and sandwiches ready in the kitchen for everyone. I know you all must be hungry.” She leads the way to the kitchen and we follow, taking our seats at the huge dining table. The small spread she has put on nearly fills the table; ham, cheese, salad, pies and cakes. They all look wonderful and I quickly realise that I am famished.

  We all tuck in taking a plate and filling it with our selection of food. The conversation is safe and the women talk about the children and what each of them are doing. I drown out the voices and try to run things through my mind, the events that have lead us to this. How did it happen? Why did it happen? I can’t find a connection as to how they found him. Shit, his mum. I push my plate away and get up from the table. I need to get into the office and find my dad to see what he has found out.

  “Excuse me, ladies. I need to go and speak with my father,” I tell them both, walking out of the room I don’t look back, this needs attending to before I deal with my wife.

  The office door is open when I arrive; walking in I see my father sat at the desk with his laptop open tapping profusely on the keys, he looks deep in thought. I don’t want to disturbed him but we all need to be on the same page and we have a call to make.

  “Father, how’s it going? Found anything we can use?” he just looks up at me from behind his screen nodding once, so I take my seat in front of him. The tapping continues for a few more seconds before he finally looks satisfied.

  “Right, this is what we know so far. His name is Ivan Dmitry, he is the head of his family in Moscow, they are into everything guns, money, drugs and women. You name it they control it. He and three of his men flew in to Gatwick two days ago and they have just boarded a plane back to Russia.” Well, that’s more than I thought we would have on them. At least we know they have fucked off back, probably thinking that they got the job done but what they don’t realise is that they fucked with the wrong family. We never back down when one of our own is hurt, even if he did bring it on himself.

  “So, at least now we know what we are up against. Did you find out roughly how many men he has?” I say. I really want to give Damien as much information as I possible can when he gets back from the hospital, so that he knows as much as possible, then he can plan the best form of attack.

  “He has around twenty men that he can call upon if needs be, but at their compound he has eight in total.” Dad’s numbers are less than I expected. For supposedly such a big family they don’t have the men to support an uprising, I wonder if their claim has more to do with politics than loyalty.

  “Have we found out how they tracked him down? I can only think of one way and that was his mother and my gut is telling me that they sure as hell didn’t ring and ask her,” I say bluntly to my father, I see his hackles rise at the thought of an innocent woman being hurt.

  “Der’mo, that’s what I feared as well but seeing that you are on the same line of thinking maybe we should give her a call and make sure she is ok?” I chuckle at my dad swearing in Russian. He used to do it more when I was a child, probably in the hopes that I wouldn’t understand but he is right, we need to give Irina a call.

  “You want me to or are you going to do it?” If it’s a call he doesn’t want to face I will make the call; I will always have my dad’s back. Even though I don’t know her that well my father knew her from before he came over hear with Viktor. He may not have known about Alekzander but he knew Viktor was seeing her as he gave Lilly all the dates that he could when she found out. He doesn’t respond to me just picks up his phone scrolls through the contacts list and hits the speaker button, placing the phone back on the table. The endless shrill of ringing; can only leave us with one conclusion. Fuck, this day just got worse.

  Cami

  All I wanted to do was crash out on the bed in the room that Lilly had put us in for the night. It’s the same room we were shown to the other week – the one with the cot in for Charlie. I’m not sure if it was Damien or Lilly who had organized everything for our arrival but I know it wasn’t Faith as she didn’t even know we had Charlie. The gesture was lovely all the same. When I first arrived I couldn’t appreciate anything they had done, I was so angry at being back in this hellhole that I resented anyone or anything that was trying to keep me here.

  I almost collapsed when Faith got the call; my whole world came crashing down around me. What would I do if anything would have happened to Malc? It’s different when you know they are safe and you choose to leave them, but having them ripped away from you through no choice of their own makes my heart stop. Her white-as-a-ghost face told me it was something serious, it wasn’t until she came off the phone that she told me it was Alekzander, and that we had to get down to the hospital. She told Lilly that we had to go and asked if she could sort the children out. I didn’t hesitate, I followed Faith out and climbed in the car with her so we could make our way to the hospital and go and support our men.

  I knew something was going on when Damien received a text as we were just about to sit down to eat dinner. He didn’t even ask he just told Malc to grab his coat as they needed to go. But that’s the joy of the life that they lead. It’s never going to be nine to five, the business runs at any time of the day or night and if someone needs to be caught they will go whenever is going to be best to catch them. The way that Damien had looked told me this was more than business – it was personal. Faith’s call just proved that it was as close to home as we could get.

  Wild thoughts were running through my head on the drive and I had to try my hardest not to clam up with fear, the panic wanted to take over and my mind wanted to shutdown. This is what I wanted to avoid when I left Malc, this feeling of being helpless, not in charge of anything that happens around me. Don’t get me wrong I am not naive, you can walk out of your front door and get struck by lightning or hit by a bus. That is something that no one controls, but the Mafia life is something else. Every decision that Damien makes impacts every single one of us: Faith, Malc, me, Lilly, Anton and even the two babies, that was my fear. I would have to follow whatever he was told to do and my opinion counted for nothing. Obviously the crime that’s involved is adherent to me, I hate it and I love it. That sounds condescending, I know, but the thought that Malc will always protect us and keeps us safe is what I love and hate all at the same time. The urge for power over someone else, the need to control everything, have everything go your way and if it doesn’t then tough shit, my boys will be paying a visit. That’s what I don’t want in my life but I fear that I will have no choice, if I don’t want to lose my family or friends then I am going to have to learn to suck it up.

  That is until I got through the hospital doors and saw the state of my husband’s face and the blood coming from his arm. I wanted to go over there and kick his fucking arse myself for putting himself in harm’s way but I scowled instead. Until I saw the look on Damien’s face and I knew it was serious. Faith rushed over to him and held him trying to soothe him. I walked quietly over to Malc and sat next to him and gave his leg a gentle squeeze just letting him know I was there for him.

  The rest of the evening pretty much went by with a detached feeling. So now I am sat on the bed waiting for Malc to come to bed. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him and I need to. I need to tell him that I will support him no matter what he has to do I will be here when he gets back.

  Charlie cries in his cot but it’s not the cry of a demanding baby. He has a little cough and after he has coughed he lets out a little pained cry. I stand above him gently stoking the hair out of his face until he settles again. I look at our boy and realise how lucky I am, not only have I got Malc, but I have this miracle, and I don’t say that lightly. After the operation they told me that my chances of conception would be unlikely, that’s why we never thought of contraception, I never honestly thought it would be an issue but it seems we both thought wrong. The only flaw in our miracle is that he has lost the other h
alf of his whole. I know what it is like to grieve for your child, to bury your child and that one picture is the only memory we have of our Andrew. I know he is with us every day, watching us through his brother’s eyes. The shiver that runs up my spine every time I get cold, I always think that it’s Andrew’s little reminder to tell us that he is here with us. To never watch him sleep or watch him grow, that’s what cuts the deepest. It’s not just the happy times we would have had with him, but at times like this when Charlie is poorly, I wonder if Andrew would have been as well. Getting to soothe both of my children – that would have made me complete knowing I can take all of their pain away.

  Strong arms wrap around me and I am not scared, I don’t even jump because I would know that scent anywhere. The heady smell of man mixed with his aftershave makes me weak at the knees.

  “Is he ok?” his concerning tone is always soft around Charlie. There’s not a hint of the brutality that it can carry, the voice that makes grown men cry. Never around Charlie, he is soft and caring.

  “He just has a little cough; he makes this little cry when he does it. I am just trying to soothe him back into a deeper sleep.” I feel him nod into my neck where it meets the shoulder and a shiver voluntary runs through me. I fight off my reaction to him. He is hurt and in no fit state to have sex with me. Plus, we need to talk. He places tender kisses down my neck gently nipping every now and then.

  “Malc,” I whisper, not wanting to wake Charlie.

  “Mmm, baby?” he says between kisses.

  “We need to talk, please.” I instantly feel cold as his body leaves mine, his heat disappearing from me. I walk over to where he is sat on the bed and take a tentative seat beside him – he is probably expecting me to have a bloody meltdown and it end the way it did last night. Was it really only last night? So much seems to have happened since then and right now we have bigger problems than my mental state.

  “Are you ok? Look at your arm,” I scold him like a fucking child. Oh yeah, Cami, great way to start a conversation, he will think I have totally lost the fucking plot now.

  “It’s just a scratch, Camilla, nothing to worry about,” his tone is distant. Is this really how we are going to end up? This is not what I imagined having a husband and kids would be like. I thought it would all be like the fairy tales and that we would live happily ever after. But that’s just a pipe dream which adults put on their kids to make them feel better about the shitty way their lives went.

  “I do worry though, Malc. Don’t you see, I love you so much? Don’t shut me out by thinking that I can’t handle what’s going on, at least give me the chance to try.” His eyes spring up towards mine, looking for the truth in my statement. I look at him for the first time and let it all show, I don’t hide behind the pain or the suffering, I won’t let the fear hold me back anymore. Yes, this man is a brute, but he is my brute.

  “Aleksander was stabbed tonight; that’s why we rushed out. I was jumped by two heavies and I didn’t move quick enough to get out of the blade’s way. It slashed across my arm but it’s only a nick.”

  I try to hide my reaction. I hate that he has been hurt. He never lets his eyes leave mine studying me intently. I take a deep breath, letting the emotions wash over me and not consume me.

  “I’m not dumb, I know this is far from over, but I just wanted to tell you that no matter what is in store or what you have to do, I understand and I will be here for you. I won’t run, I can’t.”

  No sooner than the last words leave my mouth he lunges for me. His mouth descends on mine quicker than lightning and I feel his tongue enter my mouth. Do I let him continue knowing he is hurt or do I make him stop? His hand clamps around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. I gently pull my head away from him, leaning back so I can get the words out.

  “Malc, baby, stop. Let me clean you up, then we can go get into bed and get some sleep,” I say breathlessly. I don’t want him to think I don’t want him because I do so much. Right now I am not thinking about my needs, only his, and I don’t want that cut to get infected, it needs to be cleaned and dressed.

  “I have an idea. You want hard I want tender, but each time we meet it’s one or the other so why don’t we combine both? I can fuck you tenderly of that I am sure,” his voice is full of desire and he grabs hold of my hand and places it directly on his straining cock. He thrusts his pelvis against my hand, grinding it against me to ease the pent up desire.

  “Let’s go to the bathroom and take a look at that arm. No funny business until I make sure that it’s not going to fall off,” I chuckle and rise up off the bed, putting a little extra sway in my hips as I walk towards the bathroom. I look over my shoulder as I approach the door, seeing him shake his head smiling, he makes his move to follow me.

  He is leaning against the sink in the bathroom watching me fill it up with warm water. The mirror in front of me gives me a clear view of his shoulders and back and the t-shirt is stretched tight across his sculpted planes. I drop my hands to the hem off his shirt and tug it out of the tight denim jeans that look like they are sprayed on. Every line of muscle is defined, the length off his erection is pressed firmly to his stomach, the pierced tip catches my fingers as I tug and his body shudders in response. I mean, I could just lift up the short sleeve of his t-shirt. I could just lift it up and clean the wound that way. But where would the fun be in that?

  I manage to pull his t-shirt off and I am rewarded with the torso of an Adonis with ink, hell he has a lot of ink, but I wouldn’t change any one of those tattoos. They are his memories. Each one ingrained on his skin, beautifully etched and stained. The cut on his arm is long but not too deep. It looks like a clean slice, thank fuck.

  Looking under the cabinet of the sink, seeing if there’s a first aid kit, in hindsight maybe I should have looked first. Oh well, bit late now, the view is too good not to be admired. There it is right on the bottom at the back. I pull out the little green box and open it up looking at what’s inside. There are wipes, bandages, iodine, steri strips; it has everything I need inside to get him cleaned up.

  I drop the washcloth into the warm water and ring it through before I place it gently across the wound – he doesn’t even flinch. I would be crying like a baby right about now. I place the cloth back in the sink, pull the iodine out and open the bottle, placing a few drops across the open wound and grabbing one of the bandages. I wrap it around his arm and then step back to admire my handiwork. I am quiet proud of myself, I didn’t even panic.

  “Are you happy now that you have taken care of me? Because it’s my turn to take care of you, my wife.” He scoops me up, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and he strides back into the bedroom as if I weigh nothing at all. He drops me unceremoniously onto the bed; I shriek as I land and he quickly covers my body, bringing his face right down to mine.

  “It’s my turn to take care of you now, baby.” His words make my body burn. The sensual gleam in his eyes, his body over mine is pure bliss. He gently brings his mouth to mine and this kiss is different. It’s not harsh and demanding like I would push him to normally, but it’s not soft and weak, it is a mixture of both, prefect. His teeth nip at my bottom lip and I open with a moan letting his tongue swoop in to claim mine. His hands trace the length of my body skimming past my breasts and even with my clothes on I can feel the heat that his fingers leave behind. His kisses move to my neck, tracing further down my body, he grips the hem of my shirt and tugs it up over my head. He hands grips the waistband of my yoga pants and slips them gently over the swell of my hips and now I’m in nothing but my panties. When his gaze drifts over my body the smile that forms on his face is as if he is happy with what he has found. I tentatively reach for him so I can pull him up for a kiss, but he pulls himself up letting my eyes devour the sight of his body. His hands get to the button of his jeans and he pops the top one and pulls them apart. I watch, captivated, as each button pops open. Pushing them down his legs he slips out of them and I take an intake of breath wa
iting for him to stand again; knowing what will await me when he does.

  I don’t wait a second longer to rid myself of my panties, pulling them off quickly and throwing them carelessly across the room. He chuckles at my eagerness; it’s a beautiful sound, so light and carefree. I can’t help the desire that escapes my body just at the sight of him. I am wet and ready but somehow I don’t think Malc is going to make it that easy for me. He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed, gripping my hips he pulls my body towards his mouth. I don’t fight him or try to get my own way, this is just as much for his pleasure as mine. His mouth clamps over my clit and my hips lurch upwards as his warm mouth clamps down. His teeth gently scrape my clit and then his tongue sweeps over it soothing the slight burn. His fingers dig into my thighs holding me tighter as if he’s scared to let me go. The pattern continues and I feel myself trying to clamp down, but nothing is filling me, it’s driving me crazy. I want his cock or his fingers to fill me, to carry me over the edge. My muscles are tight and my tummy in clenching in anticipation. I grip his head trying to push him closer to me, as brazen as it sounds I need more friction.

  “Please… Please…” I scream, “I want to cum, Malc. Please let me cum.,” I all but beg him. I think he takes pity on me. His relentless torture of my clit has left me humming with pent up pressure that needs to find release. He thrusts two thick fingers inside me and I thrash and moan, he pumps them faster never letting the attention leave my clit or my channel, I explode like a firework. My insides grip his fingers and I grind my hips into his face. His pace slows as I ride out my climax, his lips leave my clit placing scorching kisses on the inside of my thighs. I am a boneless heap on the bed; my legs like jelly, they fall wide open for him. He brings himself up over me, his hips between mine. His kisses have the sweet and tangy musk of my climax lingering on his lips. He grips his straining cock, bringing himself to line up at my entrance. I don’t tense, with Malc, I will never fear him pushing inside my body.