Madness (Revenge Series Book 3)

by M. S. Brannon

  We pull into the city of Moscow and the skyline looks breathtaking as the sunrises in the east. It’s giving me a newfound look at life and how precious it truly is. Almost every single moment spent with Nikolai I could have died, but I was living the adventurous life I dreamt about when I was a kid. I was taking down criminals and traveling the world while I did.

  The car verves to the left and then halts. We are parked in an alley behind an old apartment building. Nikolai steps from the car and offers me his hand to get out of the back. I don’t want to touch him, but then I do. Cubby opens a door with a key and we step into the building. There is no hiding our appearance. All three of us are covered in blood, but mine is especially visible as the color red is painted up my arms and splattered across my chest and face. However, I am too tired to care.

  We walk up three flights before Cubby ushers us into his apartment. Nikolai and he collapse at the table after he grabs a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. Cubby presses the bottle to his lips and chugs the liquor, twinging from the burn, but he repeats the process before passing the bottle to Nikolai. I’m barely standing, and my arm is throbbing.

  Nikolai picks up on this and hands the bottle over to me. I don’t hesitate, tossing back the clear fluid. The vodka burns on the way down, landing in my empty stomach. I take another drink then another until I feel lightheaded.

  “Let me look at your arm,” Cubby says, standing from his chair.

  I plod to the seat and thump down, unable to keep myself up any longer.

  He turns on a bright light over the table and twists my arm, examining the wound. “You could use a couple of stitches there.”

  “I’ll see a doctor once I get back to the States,” I reply, my eyes starting to droop and my head swimming.

  “I will take care of it.” Nikolai stands from his seat and grabs a small first-aid kit from his briefcase. He pulls a sterile needle and thread from the package as Cubby sets up a makeshift operating room.

  The bottle of vodka is dumped on my wound, sending a stinging pain all the way down to the tips of my toes, but I can hardly move. I’m too tired and too weak. The needle is threaded then pushed into my skin. It hurts, yet I swallow down the pain. This kind of pain is tolerable.

  Once he is done, he cuts the string and ties it off. It’s not perfect, but it will do.

  “Come.” He lifts me from the chair and carries me away.

  I want to pass out or fall asleep—I’m not sure which—as I’m floating then placed on the bathroom counter. Nikolai removes his clothes and starts the shower. Steam billows around the small room. Then I’m standing again. My legs can barely keep me up, but Nikolai manages to slide my dress down and remove my panties. He guides me in the shower, putting me under the warm spray, and begins to rinse the blood from my body.

  I have my back to his front. My head is so heavy it feels impossible to lift, but my energy has returned for one-millionth time tonight. I can feel it starting to take hold of me again. I keep still, my sights focused on the drain, watching the pink water swirl around then disappear. The smell of Irish Spring fills the small space as the bubbles drip off of me, following the bloody water down the drain.

  The questions are spinning around in my brain. There are so many, but the only one I can verbalize is a solitary word. “Why?”

  Nikolai freezes, his hands on my shoulders. “There are so many whys, aren’t there?”

  “Too many to count,” I whisper back.

  “Because I didn’t have a choice, Josslyn. I was a stupid kid, looking for something to believe in. Ademar was my mentor. I idolized him, and when he told me to quiet your father, I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to please him on my first job. That’s why, Josslyn.” He expels a deep breath then presses his forehead down, resting it on the crown of my head.

  I turn around and look up into his pitiful eyes. He has never once uttered a single emotion for the pain he inflicts on others, but now I see him at his weakest, and it hurts.

  I will never fully comprehend it, but I understand his need to please his mentor. In many ways, I have been doing that with my career. I have been seeking out the worst this world can offer to please my dad, whom I know is looking down on me. He was an amazing cop, and I will always live in the shadow of that.

  I lift my hand and palm his cheek. The droplets of water run off his nose and chin as I study his wolfish eyes, the icy blue irises that can terrify and consume me all at once. The eyes I spotted in the crowd the night his family was murdered. The same eyes that I woke to in a dingy building after he captured me. The eyes took me in and ravaged me with a single look, melting my core time and time again. The eyes now that look at me for help, a look I’m sure they have never presented.

  “I don’t entirely understand why you did what you did,” I whisper, keeping my focus on him. “I know I will never forget what you did, but I can forgive, so that’s what I will do. I forgive you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Nikolai

  August 26, 2015 6:01 a.m.

  The words were unexpected, yet my guilt still weighs heavily on me.

  I swoop down and lift Josslyn up into my arms. She is weak but still strong enough to wrap her legs around me. She tips her head back, the spray from the water running over her head and dripping down her beautiful face.

  I have held on to my feelings for Josslyn since the moment I met her. I know it’s impossible to feel these emotions in such a short amount of time, but I think I do. I don’t outwardly know, because I have never felt like this before. All I know is that I want to capitalize on it because this moment will be gone as suddenly as it came.

  I step from the shower and walk Josslyn to Cubby’s room off the bathroom. I kick the door closed then lay her down on the mattress. She settles under me, her eyes tired yet yearning.

  I study her face. I will never be able to see this face again. There’s a look of anticipation and excitement shining from her eyes, her skin wet and soft. She is the perfect woman and will always be in my mind. Even now with her bruised face and broken soul, Josslyn will always be the one person I will forever yearn for but know I will never be good enough to have, but tonight, I will savor every minute before I finally sever our relationship for good. She is one person who deserves a chance at life.

  I lean down, pressing my lips to hers. My kiss isn’t rough and full of need. It’s soft and gentle, savoring the taste of her mouth and the warmth of her lips. I lightly press against her lips then release my kiss, only to do it again and again.

  She opens wider, accepting my tongue, and we soon start to intertwine them in a tantalizing dance. With each stroke, my passion becomes greater, and my need for her becomes stronger.

  I grow hard and aching. She spreads her legs, opening wider for me, and the urge becomes impossible to fight.

  I rock my pelvis forward, pushing deeply into her. She moans out in pleasure, her head tipping back. I place kisses on her jaw, lips, and collarbone, tasting her as I rock into her repeatedly.

  The heat in my thighs builds straight to my core, causing my brow to sweat as my release surfaces. I sit up on my knees, needing to fully see her when I drive into her.

  She lifts her legs, and I hitch them onto my shoulders, arching her pelvis up. The sensation is more intense. Josslyn starts to whimper then shivers as her orgasm explodes through her. She quivers as she rides the high of her ecstasy.

  I rock my hips deeper, faster, harder until the sensation hits me like a wave. I weaken as I pulse out the remainder of my release, floating to oblivion.

  .*.*.*.

  August 26, 2016 10:42 a.m.

  The heat from her body circles around me. Josslyn is sound asleep. She hasn’t moved or really made a sound since we passed out after our passion.

  I roll to my side, lying face to face with her. She looks so happy when she is asleep. Her muscles are relaxed, giving her a very peaceful look. It’s an expression she deserves to wear when she’s not asleep, too. That is something she will ne
ver have as long as I’m in her life. She has been subjected to far too much suffering by the hands of me and my quest.

  The fear of her taking me to jail has since passed. Too much has grown between us, and her conscience couldn’t handle it if she did. I know this in my heart to be true. My heart. It was only because of her that I had discovered I even had one.

  I look over her face. It’s swollen. The faint, purplish bruise covers her cheekbone, and the small cut on the opposite side has finally scabbed over.

  I pan my eyes down. Her shoulder is red. The wound will add another scar to her already battered body, but it will serve as a reminder of what she survived.

  The smell of coffee starts to trickle under the door. Awake, I need the hot, caffeinated beverage more than sleep right now.

  I lean forward, placing a kiss on her wound, and then roll from the bed. I put on a pair of boxers from my garment bag then step out into the kitchen. Cubby is hovering in front of the coffee pot, holding his ceramic mug between his mitts as he inhales, savoring the smell.

  I pour myself a cup and join Cubby at the table. We sit in silence for a few minutes, each of us waiting for our hot beverage to wake us up enough to engage in conversation. Finally, after half a mug, I decide to open the communication.

  “Where do you plan on going now?”

  “I’m not sure. I have been stuck in Chechnya for all those years, worried I was going to be hunted if I were to leave. But now, I have this new freedom.” He has a stupid smile on his face as he looks over my head, probably daydreaming.

  “What happened between you and Stravinsky, anyway?”

  The light in his face disintegrates, and Cubby returns to his dark, brooding self.

  “I will need more than a cup of coffee to share, Nikolai. Besides, we finally made it out of his grasp. Let’s revel in that for a while before I take you down my fucked up memory lane.” He voice is cold; his hardened body telling me this is a topic for another day.

  I nod and go back to enjoying my coffee.

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Better than I deserve,” I answer then roll my sore shoulders in small circles.

  “And the girl?” Cubby looks more than curious, but I don’t allow my true feeling to show.

  “Josslyn’s doing better. Although, she will be sore for a while.” I look off in the distance, my thoughts flashing back to last night. For that one moment, I gave her something undiscovered that will never be unearthed again.

  “So, where do you go from here?” Cubby asks. “Is she part of the next step?”

  My gut sinks to my feet at the thought of the answer to that question. I will tell her good-bye today. I will never see her again, and she will start her life over with peace and happiness. The painful memories of her past will be where they belong—far behind her in the rearview mirror.

  “She’s done.” It’s all I can say because that’s what she is to me—done. Done with it all.

  “The sting from a woman will always hurt ten times worse than any pain man can inflict on your body. And when she’s gone, it no longer hurts you … It devastates you,” Cubby says in passing as he retreats to the bathroom.

  “I know,” I whisper to no one, knowing the pain will eventually surround me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Josslyn

  August 26, 2015 4:27 p.m.

  Nikolai slowly pulls his car to a stop after he pulls it into the parking spot outside of Kievsky Station. The summer air feels nice against my skin, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I was still worried to be on the streets by myself. Moscow is a lovely place, but what lurks in the recesses of the beauty is truly frightening.

  Once I woke, I walked out to find a kitchen filled with fresh fruit and bread. There was a pot of coffee brewing and freshly squeezed juice. My stomach rumbled, knowing I hadn’t eaten in two days. After I ate, I found a new suitcase in the bedroom filled with clothes and all the toiletries I use on a regular basis. Mine were left in Grozny and are now probably in the trash.

  We didn’t say much to each other, because what surrounds us is now altered even more. We were always on the opposite end of the scale: him being a killer and I being a cop. We only joined forces to find the same man who ruined our lives.

  In light of what I know about his past, what exists between us is strained. Now, as we sit in the car at Kievsky Station, there is an aura of uncertainty floating through the air. But that is not what really plagues me with sadness.

  This is the moment we part ways forever. Nikolai being my prisoner is utterly pointless since I know his promise wasn’t ever going to be honored. Maybe I believed that when I first left on this journey with him, but after everything, I am over that thought. I would rather move on with my life than know Nikolai is rotting away in prison.

  He steps from the car, moving across the front and over to my side, opening the door. I step out, feeling his fingers lace through mine as my small suitcase is pulled behind me. It feels so surreal and tragic.

  My heart is swelling with an ache, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings. I have had feelings before, maybe even loved someone once, but it didn’t feel like this when we went our separate ways. Imagine a heroine addict quitting cold turkey. You simply can’t. You can’t imagine the layers of pain, of want and longing, and the desperateness of pining for something you can never truly have. Unless you have been at the center of the storm, you can never fathom the true pain of it all. It’s the brutal definition of the word tragedy.

  Nikolai awoke something unknown inside of me, something that made me stronger and more dangerous. He took one look at this tough cop and made her better. He believed I could be the person he needed on this dangerous yet important mission, and coming from someone like Nikolai, that’s crucial. I earned his trust. He relied on me and had to let go of some of the control to trust I could do what he needed me to do. That in itself took an extraordinary amount of effort on his part. We made a great team. We understood each other’s actions, and when I was by his side, I felt alive!

  We are standing in the hub of the train station where people are coming and going, buying tickets and kissing their loved ones good-bye. This is where we will split, never to be seen together again.

  “Here.” Nikolai hands me a train ticket, and I tuck it inside my jeans pocket. “See that man over there? The man with the red ball cap?”

  I turn my head and spot the small yet muscular man in the crowd.

  “Yeah,” I reply and focus back on his face. The curve of his cut jaw and the slight stubble of the day sprinkled over it made him look mysteriously attractive. The way his brow crinkles between his eyes whenever he is deep in thought causes all of my fingertips to tingle, itching to touch him.

  “His name is Aleksandr Makarova, and he assures me you will get home safely. If you need anything, he will get it for you, okay?”

  I look back over at the man in the red hat as he stands by the boarding entrance. Then I look back at Nikolai.

  The last place I want to be is away from his side. I don’t want to leave him. I want to love him. Wait … Do I? Do I actually love this man standing in front of me?

  I can’t leave him. Not now, not until I really know how I feel about him. I have to take this leap because I’m tired of wondering if something will happen or pretending it will in my head. I want to experience it. I want to live it, to feel the pain and endure it, to feel the love and surrender to it. If I walk away now, I will never know if what is growing in my heart is real. It will only be a fantasy, and fuck the fantasy. I want the truth, the bittersweet, can’t-live-without-you kind of feeling. I deserve that kind of ever after, and Nikolai is the only person who can give it to me.

  “I … I …” I stutter, knowing what I want to say, but I can’t utter a single word.

  Nikolai’s eyes slant as he contemplates what I am going say. The crinkle between his brows makes him look impossibly sexy.

  “I … can’t go,” I finall
y say.

  “You have to,” he says as he sweeps away a stray hair tangled in my lashes. “You don’t belong here.”

  “I belong with you.” My words are bold, and he can’t question where I’m going with this conversation.

  “No, you don’t, Josslyn. You don’t want this kind of life. It will only end as it began … painfully.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not leaving,” I stand firm and let my suitcase fall over onto the marble floor.

  “No, Josslyn. I will only get you killed. You can’t stay.”

  “I’m not leaving unless you’re beside me!” My voice is loud and defiant. I refuse to let him walk out of this room without me by his side. Where I belong is next to him.

  “I’m no good for you.” His voice doesn’t elevate, but his tone gets darker and more commanding.

  “Yes, you are!”

  “Think back to how this started, Josslyn. You were my prisoner. I roped you into coming on this journey with me, only to use you as bait. That’s it. I didn’t need you to find Stravinsky; I would have eventually found him. But with you as my lure, I knew it would be easier to get to him. He would come out of hiding to see if you were the girl who survived that night.”

  “I guess a part of me already knew that, but I still don’t care.”

  “I tipped off the scouts and told them where to find you. Because of me, you were kidnap, Josslyn.”

  My face falls as my heart stops. The terror of the auction floods back in. All the pain and uncertainty of what was going to happened hovers over my heart like a black cloud.

  “I used you to get to him. I set the trap to find Stravinsky, and you were the bait.” Nikolai raises his hands to my face and holds my cheeks. His palms are warm, sending sparks all over my body. “Does that sound like a good person to you?”