He Who Is a Protector (Sadik Book 3)

by Love Belvin

  I nodded with hiked lips. “You may be on to something.”

  “But having the American dream doesn’t make you old. It makes you happy, right?”

  I leaned over my chair to give it thought. “It makes you cautious, constantly aware of people other than yourself. Every decision I make will affect those closest to me. I want the best for them and to protect them until my dying breath.” I felt the subtle nod of my head. “It’s the best overwhelming state to be in for a man my age.”

  “You’re smiling,” she whispered breathlessly.

  Gazing at Sofia’s stiff, petite frame, a feather-stroke of arousal waved over me. It was her. Bilan. She did shit to me. How could I look into the eyes of another woman and still be aroused by my wife who was several counties away?

  She made them leave. My wife ordered my parents’ lovers out of our home.

  Her audacity stunned and impressed me. It relieved and comforted those concerns I’d wrestled with and embarrassment I’d always carried since those relationships were established.

  Sofia’s sniffle had my attention return to her. She swiped tears from her cheek as she turned to grab her things. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

  But she couldn’t look me in the eye to corroborate the sentiment.

  I rubbed my bottom lip with my thumb, suddenly uncomfortable about the trance I found myself in. One that involved my wife and a former lover.

  I collected the rest of my things, too. “It’s late. You going to be okay getting out of the city?”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course.” Then Sofia forged a fortifying smile, quite a clever one. “I’m familiar with the place.”

  I was referring to her safety, but was sure she knew that. Heading to the door first, I held it open for her. She dipped under my arm and strode mutedly to the elevator. When it arrived, she stepped on first.

  My head dropped and my mind ran with thoughts of the following day as the car dinged each floor we descended.

  “When I told my mother I’ve been working with you a couple of weeks ago, she told me you were the one I was supposed to marry.” Her words were so soft, I wouldn’t have known if she was really speaking if Sofia’s sad eyes weren’t locked onto me. “She said you slipped through my fingers because I’m too ‘community’ and not enough family.” She scoffed, her head shaking.

  There was a balance at the end of her sharing. Sofia wanted a response from me, and I was wordless. We didn’t speak again until the doors parted and we stepped into the lobby.

  “Enjoy your time away, sweethea—Sofia.”

  Even in her absence, Bilan corrected me.

  Sofia’s small shoulders wiggled slightly as a superficial grin lifted on her face. “A destination wedding. Once again, I’m the professional bridesmaid.” She winked before taking off.

  By the time I made it up to the suite, it was late. All but two lights were on: the open bathroom and the nightstand lamp on my side of the bed. Bilan left one of the balcony doors open. I strode over to close and lock them. Then I removed my jacket and tie as I kicked off my shoes before traveling over to my boy. He was asleep in his portable woven wooden bassinet on the bed. We agreed to cutting back on putting him in here now that he was sleeping, almost, through the night.

  However, tonight, as I carried his warm body over to his crib in the sitting area, I understood why. Bilan had a long day and sometimes, at the end of a trying one, you needed the comfort of a familiar body.

  “At least that’s what I need of your mother tonight,” I whispered to him before kissing his cheek and nose.

  I lay him on his side, straightened his gown and placed a thin blanket at his waist. As I stood over him, I struggled to leave. Parental paranoia is what my mother explained I’d been feeling since Iban robbed my family of the peace I provided. Most nights, I couldn’t leave his side and opted to sleep beneath him on the floor. My wanting to give him consistency and peace won over my comfort, so I slept on the hard floor, but near him.

  My flat palm held his delicate back as I mumbled a few words of prayer over him. Shit, he was beautiful. The ultimate gift from God. I just didn’t want to fuck it up. Fuck him up with what I knew to be the culture of this family; the makings of me. Sadik coming into my life when he did caused a cataclysmic shifting of sorts. It highlighted all the evils and dilated my views of purity and consequence at the same damn time.

  Regrettably, I left him to fulfill a silent, yet histrionic yearning deep within. As I approached the bed with animalistic need, I peeled off my shirt and tank and doused my pants and dress socks. My engorged dick caught at the elastic of my boxers when I pulled them off. Seconds later, I slipped beneath the comforter, revealing her naked body. After burying my hungry mouth between her thick, toned thighs, Bilan’s hands roved over my head in her subconscious. It wasn’t until she was climaxing that it felt she’d fully awakened.

  I urged Bilan to her knees, loathing the need to be gentle because of her expectant condition. I fucked her balls deep. Bilan’s curls stood shapeless on top of her head from my occasional fisting of them to hold her head to the mattress. Her pulsing walls swallowed me so deep, my balls slapped against her pussy. The arch in her back and the vibration of her ass cheeks when I pounded into them all worked against my stamina. When her spine bowed and wobbled and I felt her coming around me, my fucking balls drew up, body warmed, and feet curled before I exploded inside of her. My mind went blank for a moment, body feeling, smelling, and hearing only Bilan.

  She cured me of every insecurity, worry, and question in my mind regarding me being able to keep her near. The biggest risk for a man of my stature isn’t losing your wealth when you fall for a woman. It’s losing the vital tentacles she helped you grow when your worlds collided. Bilan didn’t gain just money when I lost myself to her, she owned parts of me I could never get back. After her day of regulating in my parents’ home, I was sure she was close to the edge of a meltdown or had possibly had one. I should have been here to catch her and spur on her authoritative actions as a rightful Ellis.

  As I stood behind her, swaying on my knees with my eyes squeezed closed, chest misted with sweat and head reclined behind my shoulders, I felt exponentially lighter and a renewed purpose.

  Slowly, I released her, feeling my sensitive cock pulling gently out of her. Bilan rolled over onto her side.

  “Sadik,” she whispered.

  Still out of breath, my lids parted and I answered, “Yes, Nalib.”

  “What do the Russians have to do with us being on lockdown here?” She panted audibly. “And why do I feel there’s…some…hidden information about Iban’s conviction and imprisonment for murder?”

  My eyes burst wide.

  Shit…

  ∞22∞

  “One-Two-Three-Two!” he commanded and I shot four jabs.

  Rhythmically, he shouted the combo again “One-Two-Three-Two!”

  And again, with rapid succession, I jabbed his padded mitts twice with each fist. We moved circularly as I dripped with sweat and my feet felt like boulders and arms numb.

  Dimi’s thick tongue projected even louder. “Damnit, Bilan, jab-cross-hook-cross!”

  As if I didn’t understand, I continued with simple yet hard jabs. I’d decided my punch combinations minutes ago, and I’d stick with it until my arms fell off. I was in a beautiful zone where pain couldn’t disrupt my determination.

  “Stop!” I heard him yell, but didn’t process until he dropped his mitted hands and my next powerful jab sent me careening into the air. Dimi broke my flight with his arm at my chest. “The hell’s wrong with you?” His cool breath pushed over my head; he was such a tall man.

  And it happened. I stopped repetition and my muscles began to fatigue and lungs burned. My body swayed as I tried to regain my balance. Dimi helped steady me even with the impediment of the mitts.

  “Can you stand alone just…few seconds?” His language was broken, but I understood and nodded.

  He jogged over to t
he other side of the gym, tossing off the mitts, and grabbed a giant exercise ball. “On your ass and lay on your back!” He pointing toward the floor en route to me.

  Slowly, I obeyed, but boy was it a task of trying to go south while struggling to breathe. I was lightheaded, so I swayed and dropped a bit.

  “Can you lift your legs?” he asked.

  When I didn’t get them in the air fast enough, he bent over and swept my legs up, arranging my feet on the ball. Dimi organized them until my toes were pointed toward the ceiling. My chest heaved something mean as I squeezed my eyes.

  “We have to get blood back to your head for the dizziness to stop,” he explained. “Shit!” he swore again, and I realized I’d never heard Dimi curse as much as I had tonight. He was also more anxious this session than I’d ever seen of him. Then he began a string of words in his native tongue as he shuffled around me. I watched as his big, pink body swung back to me. “Is it better?”

  I nodded, heaving hard.

  He began slapping the back of his right hand into his left palm. “You didn’t follow directions and you pushed too hard. This is not like you, Bilan!”

  I closed my eyes again. “I’m sorry.” I panted. “Got a lot on my mind.”

  And boy, did I ever.

  Last night, when going to get the baby from Camille in the staff’s wing of the house, I overheard a few of the girls talking as I approached the room.

  “I can’t wait until Sadik or Mr. Ellis says this mess is over,” one groaned, causing me to stop in my tracks. Any mention of either of the Sadiks would catch my attention. They were the salt of my world. “I’m sick of this house restriction. I can’t move like I want.”

  “Yeah.” Another, more mature, tenor replied. “It’s been years since we’ve had this happen.”

  “Not really. Remember last summer? Mr. Ellis had a beef with those Italians—”

  “Yeah!” A new voice chimed in. “Remember, I found out it was with baby Liza’s family?”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “But I heard this one is more serious.” I recognized that voice as Camille’s. “When I took baby Sadik to see his grandfather a few weeks back, I overheard Mr. Ellis mention Russians.”

  “Russians?” the most mature tone of the group mocked. “What in the hell’s gotten to this family? Trump?”

  The women snickered.

  “I think we should take this seriously. Anytime Sadik addresses the house, it’s usually serious. Mr. Ellis is getting up there in age, and I see him talking more and more to Sadik. If the beef is with Russians, they probably have all of our information.”

  “Jesus!” one whispered hard as though in panic.

  “Yup. I’m good,” Camille spoke with confidence. “I don’t have classes this summer, so I hope it’s all cleared up by the fall.” There was a slight pause before she continued. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you still had the books for that Clinical Inquiry for Evidence-Based Practice class?”

  I tuned out after the subject changed to school then Stacy’s new schedule for them. To not make my timing awkward, I made a beeline to the kitchen and warmed up a bottle for Sadik, something I was going to do after I got him anyway.

  As my lungs began to slow, I peered over the ball at my feet and asked, “Dimi, what do the Russians have to do with the Ellis family?”

  Dimi froze, bending over while putting away dumbbells for the night. It was similar to Sadik’s reaction when I asked him last night after making love. My husband’s answer was the biggest blow-off known to a wife. I vaguely recalled a Russian being mentioned in The Commission Sadik told me Earl once belonged to, but not much beyond that. And because of that, I thought he’d be willing to provide an honest answer. I was wrong. Sadik kissed me sweetly on the forehead and told me to trust him to be my protector. It was bullshit. Maybe a better answer could be provided by someone with a distance from the madness.

  Slowly, he lifted and turned toward me. His jaw was collapsed and eyes wild with…fear?

  “Bilan…” he pronounced his usual Beelon. “If your husband doesn’t want you here, you shouldn’t come.”

  My head lifted from the floor. That annoyed me. “You know, I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve basically asked me to stop coming to your gym since I told you who the father of my child is.”

  “He’s not just a partner of passion anymore. He married you. He told you to stop coming.”

  I kicked the ball from beneath my legs and leaned to my side, sitting up. “And I’m a twenty-nine year old woman, wife, and mother who makes her own decisions, Dimi. If I want to come to a reputable trainer where I feel safe, I can and most certainly will!”

  Dimi’s eyes closed and neck gave out as he grunted. It was clear to me he was torn, but between what? What was bothering this man to the point of being so irritated by my presence?

  Then I knew it for sure.

  “You know my…Sadik and Earl Ellis.” My heart tripled its pace as I stared him directly in the eyes.

  “I know Double E Bags,” he made clear.

  I considered that for a minute. Suddenly, I was desperate, though I tried concealing my excitement.

  “Dimi, who are the Russians?” His face rotated away from me. “I swear, I won’t tell Sadik. I’m just tired of feeling like I’m living in a bubble. I have a child now to be concerned about.”

  “That is why you shouldn’t be out during times like this.” He was curt.

  “Times like what, Dimi?” He did that long pause thing again, looking away. I waited until I couldn’t anymore. “What?” I demanded.

  Dimi took two steps closer to me, his splayed hand leading him. “I’m going to say this, but before I do, I need you to know you can’t come back here unless Ellis says to my face you can. I have a family to protect and provide for, Bilan. I left that bad life so I can do this.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You don’t!” he shouted again, his deep cords vibrating across the empty room. Again, Dimi regained himself, shaking his head. “I’m in danger every time you come.”

  “By who?”

  “Your husband, his father, and Popov.” His tongue curled around that last name. “The last two are from my old world.”

  He kept referencing that. “What world is that, Dimi?”

  His voice was perceptively low when he shared, “I used to work for Feodor Popov, a Russian like me with the biggest arms trade in the state, and one of the biggest sex trafficking web on this side of the country. He has a very big organization…probably billion-dollar company by now. I was one of his guns…like…” He paused to think. “The little Black woman your husband keeps around.”

  I breathed, “Rory?”

  Dimi nodded. “Popov has got lots of guns. That was me. I saw deplorable things—women, girls…dead babies from abortions in a basement—that will give you nightmares. I was okay with it. I did my job well.”

  “But you left.”

  “When I met my Nadia at one of his receiving houses.” My eyes bulged wide. “She’s from my hometown, back home. I knew her family as a boy. When she showed up off the container from the big boat, it shook my soul. I did not know Popov was taking Russian girls. It was sickening.” He spat and uttered words from his native tongue. “Out of all the girls in the world, Popov started taking our own. Disgusting!” Severe anger creased his face as he shared.

  “So you left with her?”

  He snorted. “It’s not your American love story. I had to pay for her freedom and mine. It took years—taking years. I’m still paying each month. I’m almost paid off.”

  “You still owe?”

  “We had the baby before I was done with our payment. Then I owe again.”

  Guilt wrapped around my throat, squeezing me to a choke. “I’m sorry, Dimi.”

  “This is why I say you should not be here. Your husband knows me. I don’t want him to…”

  I swallowed. “You don’t want him to think you’re a threat to me because of your old
association with Popov.”

  He nodded, eyes sparkling with the need of mercy. “Popov is a very dangerous man. Your husband’s father is a dangerous man. Dimi need no trouble. I have a family to protect. The Ellis family are brutal savages.” He lifted his hand to demonstrate with his finger. “They devour anything…everything in their way, from the top of the state to the bottom.”

  I nodded, licked my lips, and swallowed hard as I stood to my feet. “Again, I’m sorry, Dimi.” I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I won’t bother you again.”

  Broken. My heart was shattered in several pieces over the rejection and implication of me putting him in danger. Dimi was a six-foot, five-inch tall man with biceps I couldn’t wrap both hands around. His chest and abs were one thick armor plate. He never showed much emotion, and never fear. If he was asking me to not return, perhaps I should be fearful, too.

  I ambled over to the wall and collected my bag and bottle of water. Crestfallen, I headed out with my head hung. When I made it to the door, a thought struck.

  “Who do you think will win?”

  I waited for Dimi to turn my way. When he did, his response was as delayed as expected.

  “I don’t know. The Ellis family has outsmarted the law…even have some on their payroll. But Popov…” His eyes fell and nostrils widened with emotion. “He doesn’t fear the government.”

  “He fears someone. We all do.” I bit my lip, suddenly feeling bad-ass.

  “The only one I’ve seen him back down to is a Polish man. Jankowski. But he disappeared from the U.S. over ten years ago.” I nodded my understanding and opened the door to leave. “Bilan,” he called out to me. “Popov doesn’t fear death. He fears losing power.” It was countless seconds later when he explained, “He has power over me, even now.”

  It was why he didn’t want me coming back to his gym. I understood it completely. I was a threat to Dimi’s welfare. That wasn’t what I wanted for him or me. This time, I passed through the door with tears pooling in my eyes.