Scarred: A Russian Mob Romance (Anosov Family Mafia) (Scars and Sins Collection Book 1)

by Vivian Gray

  “I have a meeting this morning,” she said after a few uncomfortable minutes of silence.

  “A meeting?”

  “Well, I guess it’s not a meeting. I am meeting someone.” She stuttered around the words. “A friend.”

  “Oh, okay.” I wanted to know who she was meeting, but I also didn’t want to come off as controlling. She was free to have her own life, and I didn’t need to know about every detail. “You can use the car if you’d like. The driver is on retainer, so…”

  “No, that’s all right. I can take an Uber.”

  “Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I already pay for the service.”

  She shook her head. “That’s all right. I may even decide to walk. It’s supposed to be a nice day.”

  I tried to convince myself that I was just paranoid for the rest of the day. Bailey wasn’t acting strange. It was only my perception. However, up until she left for her “meeting”, she tiptoed around me, barely made eye contact, and all of the witty banter I’d come to expect from our relationship had disappeared.

  So, when she left, the elevator doors closing behind her, I did something I’m not proud of.

  I had her followed.

  Like I told Bailey, I had a driver on retainer and I have bodyguards nearby at all hours of the day and night. It only took a few text messages to have someone tailing her as she climbed into her Uber and headed across town. I waited nervously next to my phone for updates, hoping I had overreacted, that everything was fine.

  However, twenty minutes after she left, I got the text I’d been dreading.

  She’s meeting with Brendan.

  I slammed my phone down and paced around the kitchen. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was a possibility. I knew there was a chance that Bailey still wanted him. That she was only with me because of my money and the job. But I’d hoped she would choose me. Even though I still wasn’t sure what that meant or what I could offer her, or where things would head. Finding out she was with Brendan felt like a knife in the back.

  I grabbed my phone and texted back.

  Thanks. That’s all. You can leave.

  I didn’t need to know anymore.

  I sat around all morning, waiting for her to come back, hoping it would be soon. The less time she spent with him, the better chance there was she had gone just to tell him to fuck off and get out of her life. However, as thirty minutes turned into an hour, I lost hope. Was she betraying me?

  My instinct always told me to expect the worst from people. But I didn’t want to do that with Bailey. I would give her a chance to explain. If she came home and told me where she’d been and who she’d been with, I would listen and be understanding. If she didn’t though… If she kept it a secret, I would know the truth, and I wouldn’t hesitate to throw her out on her ass.

  I don’t care how amazing the sex is, no one double-crosses me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bailey

  The car dropped me off outside of Brendan’s, and the sight of the dilapidated house where, until recently, I’d lived, made me feel sick. I couldn’t go back to this. To the life and the person I’d been before Anton. I was scared of everything then. Scared of being jobless and alone, living on the street. But now I knew better. I knew there were worse things than that.

  No matter what Brendan had to say to me, no matter what threats he made, I’d never go back to him. I’d tell Anton about my past, about the things I’d overcome and the decisions I’d made. I couldn’t live my life ashamed of the things that had made me who I am. I had to own every part of myself, and if I wanted to ever truly be with Anton, he needed to know everything.

  Brendan opened the front door before I could even knock. He stepped onto the porch, his blonde hair plastered to his head with oil and sweat. Based on that and his sweaty cut off, it looked like he’d been lifting weights in the basement before I’d arrived. He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug that I did not return. Where Anton smelled like the forest in springtime, Brendan smelled like the bottom of a gym locker. I held my breath until he let me go.

  “I knew you’d come home,” he said.

  I wanted to stay on the porch. Going inside felt dangerous. But Brendan didn’t give me a chance. He grabbed my arm and pulled me through the door before I could even react. Suddenly, the door had closed behind me, plunging us both into darkness.

  The house was dim, all of the curtains pulled closed, but I could still see the chaos that had descended upon the place. The laundry, which was usually hidden behind white accordion doors in the hallway, was spilling out onto the floor, dishes were stacked in the sink, and the trash can was full of Styrofoam bowls and plates. Mail had piled up on the coffee table, and takeout containers covered the end tables. Without me cleaning up after him, Brendan had let the place fall apart.

  “Looks nice,” I said, one eyebrow raised.

  Brendan looked around and shrugged. “This is what happens when you leave me.”

  “You forget how to vacuum?”

  “I’ve been too depressed to vacuum,” he said, reaching for me, his warm hand wrapping around my waist.

  I didn’t peel it off of me and fling it back at him like I wanted to. Instead, I simply stepped back and spun, going to inspect the opposite side of the room.

  “But you haven’t been too depressed to try and get Anton arrested,” I said, turning back to face him. “That was a shitty thing to do.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he asked, as if I was supposed to agree with him. “You left me.”

  “No, you bet me in a poker game and then lost. I didn’t leave. You gave me away,” I corrected.

  Brendan moved across the room towards me, his lower lip puckered out in a pout. “When are you going to let that go?”

  “Being treated like an object isn’t something I’ll soon forget.”

  He backed me into a corner and placed his hands flat on the wall around my head, caging me in. “It’s not as if you aren’t used to it.”

  I pushed on his chest, trying to give myself some space, but he didn’t budge. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  He leaned forward and pressed his sweaty face into my neck, nuzzling me. I turned away, clamping my mouth shut, trying to push down the bile rising in my throat. “You know what I mean.”

  I pushed on his chest again, harder this time. “No, I really don’t.”

  He turned and pressed his lips to my neck, his hand sliding down my side, cupping the small of my waist. “Sure you do. You’ve traded yourself for money before.”

  His words hit me like a slap, taking my breath away, but not for long. I inhaled sharply and elbowed him in the side. Finally, he backed up, looking shocked.

  “What?” he asked, feigning surprise. He knew what he’d said. Brendan had always liked to push my buttons and then act as though I was overreacting. He enjoyed it. Sick bastard.

  “You know what, Brendan. You’re an asshole. I’m not ever going to get over what you did. I’m going to remind myself of it every day to make sure I never ever find myself in such a bad position that you are my best option,” I said, my lips curled back in fury.

  He smiled at me, but I could see the rage in his eyes, the spark of anger quickly fanning into a flame. We stared at one another, a silent standoff. Then, he laughed. That son of a bitch laughed at me.

  He took a step back and wagged a finger at me as though I were a naughty child. “You’ll feel bad about that one day. When we are together again, and Anton is a distant memory, you’ll regret being so harsh towards me.”

  I stepped away from the wall, standing on my tiptoes to get in his face. I needed Brendan to see the truth of what I was saying in my eyes. I needed him to believe the words I was about to say.

  “There isn’t going to be a ‘one day’ for you and me,” I said, speaking slowly. “I would rather tell Anton about my past, about all the ugly mistakes I made, than spend another second with you. You can’t control me anymore, Bren. It i
s over.”

  No sooner had the words left my lips than I felt Brendan’s entire weight slam into me. He shoved me back hard enough that my head bounced off the wall, making my vision go black for a second. When I could finally see again, Brendan’s square face was directly in front of me, his skin flushed, the veins in his neck and forehead pulsing.

  “You don’t get to say when it’s over, Bailey,” he said, running his hand up my thigh.

  I kicked out at him, trying to push him off, but he pinned my hips to the wall with his own, using his knees to hold my legs down. His hand trailed up my side, following the curve of my breasts.

  “Haven’t you learned by now?” he asked, pressing his lips against my neck. “I can take whatever I want from you, whenever I want.”

  Memories of Brendan forcing me back on the bed and ripping my clothes off played through my mind, and I closed my eyes, pushing them away. I had to stay in the present. I had to stop this before things went any further.

  “But don’t you want me to want it?” I asked him, remembering what Anton had said to me the first night I was at his house. “Wouldn’t it be better if I chose you?”

  Brendan pressed himself harder against me until I thought my ribs would crack, until I could barely inflate my lungs. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I swallowed back my nausea.

  “It’s never bothered me before,” he whispered.

  His hands were on my back searching for my zipper. Things were spiraling. I had to fight him off, or I would lose the chance.

  For just a moment, I went pliant. I leaned against him, arching my back, letting him think I wanted it. It shouldn’t have worked so fast. He should have realized after what I’d just said that I wouldn’t want it, but Brendan was cocky. No matter what I or anyone else said about him, he would always believe himself to be superior. Smarter. Stronger. Sexier.

  I slid my hands down between us, feeling down his abdomen, my fingers reaching for his waistband. He groaned and pulled away from me, giving me room to pleasure him. It was just enough space. Enough for me to pull my arm back and slam it into his windpipe.

  He croaked, sounding like an airless bagpipe, and fell sideways, his hands grabbing at his throat. I didn’t hesitate. I jumped over his leg, careened around the stained recliner he had refused to get rid of for years, and sprinted through the front door.

  My Uber driver was waiting for me just like I’d asked, and his eyes widened as I ran towards him, my hand circling in the air, gesturing for him to get the car ready. It was like I’d just robbed a bank, and he was my getaway driver. He must have really wanted my five-star rating because he did as I asked. The moment I was in, he slammed on the gas, and we took off down the block.

  I turned around just in time to see Brendan run out the door and stand on the porch, staring after the car. He waited for a few seconds and then turned around and went back inside.

  I hoped it would be the last time I ever saw him.

  Anton was sitting on the sofa when I got back. I felt like a child coming home late, my parents sitting up waiting for me in a dark living room. I half-expected Anton to ask, “Do you know what time it is, young lady?”

  “Hello,” I said, hoping my voice sounded even.

  I’d secretly hoped he would be in his office or out when I got back so I would have time to go to my room, rearrange my clothes, adjust my makeup. Brendan’s hands on my body left me feeling dirty, and I wanted nothing more than to wash the memory of him away. However, I also didn’t know how much time I had. Brendan could decide to call Anton at any time. In fact, I realized as I stood there, he could have already called.

  Perhaps, that was why Anton looked so serious. Maybe Brendan had already called and told him about my stint as a prostitute. Maybe that’s why he was sitting on the couch waiting for me to get home. He wanted to confront me and then break up with me. If he could break up with me. Can you break up with someone you aren’t officially dating?

  “How are you?” I asked, already hating the formality of the question. It was a question I asked old acquaintances I could no longer remember the names of.

  He nodded, lips pursed. “Fine. How are you?”

  I loitered in front of the elevator, not sure whether to sit down in the living room with him or try to sneak off to my room. “Good… Fine.”

  Anton studied me, his eyes roving over my body, and I could practically feel him picking me apart. The rumpled fabric at the bottom of my dress where Brendan had grabbed it, my frazzled hair, the red marks across my neck from Brendan’s stubble.

  “How was your meeting?” he asked.

  Was I imagining it, or had he put a special emphasis on the word ‘meeting’? I should just tell him. That would be the easiest solution. Tell him what happened. Tell him about my past. Tell him how I’d changed and that I wanted my future to look much different from my past. He would understand. Right?

  I opened my mouth to say it all. I really did. I was going to do it, but then he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, highlighting the long angle of his jawbone. I saw the smooth, tan skin of his neck that stretched down into his collared shirt. And I thought about everything I could lose. If Brendan hadn’t called yet, he probably wouldn’t.

  Throughout our relationship, he had sworn over and over again that he would never hit me again, that he would kill me if I ever told anyone, that he was sorry. He never meant any of it. Ever. Why should I take his threats seriously now?

  “It was great,” I said, plastering on a smile. “Always good to see old friends.”

  He stared at me for a minute, and then his mouth pressed down into a hard line. He placed his hands on his knees and lifted himself up to standing. In a few moves, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of me, the scene of his body wash swirling around the air. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him in close, but something stopped me.

  He leaned forward, lips pursed as though he was thinking about kissing me in the same way I was thinking about kissing him. He leaned in until our mouths were only a few inches apart, until I could have tipped forward and caught myself in him.

  “Get out.”

  The whisper was harsh, like a hot kettle. It burned me.

  “What?” It felt like the air had been pressed out of my lungs. Nothing made any sense.

  “Leave,” he said, stepping away from me, pointing back towards the elevators I’d just come through.

  “What is going on?” I asked, hot tears pressing against the back of my eyes.

  “You lied to me. I gave you a chance to tell me the truth, and you lied.” He looked at me for a second before shifting his gaze over my shoulder. He couldn’t even look at me.

  “The truth about what?” I asked. I realized then how many secrets I’d been keeping from Anton. So many I couldn’t be sure which one he wanted me to confess.

  “You met with Brendan,” he said, his lips curled back. “After everything that asshole has done, you went to see him.”

  “It wasn’t like th—”

  Anton gave a wave of his hand. “I don’t care what happened. You lied about it. I can’t be with someone who lies to me or someone with so little self-respect that they would go back to scum like him.”

  I wanted to explain, fall down on my knees and beg him to listen, but then a question rose to the front of my mind. “How did you know where I was?”

  He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, he cleared his throat nervously. “I had a few of my guards follow you.”

  “You had me followed?”

  “You were acting strange. I knew something was wrong this morning and I wasn’t sure what, so I had you followed only to know who you were going to meet. As soon as I learned it was Brendan, my men left.”

  I bounced back and forth between frustration and anger. If only his men had stayed a few more minutes, they would have seen me tear out of the house like my life depended on it. They would have seen that I only stayed there a few minutes. They would have followed me to the
coffee shop where I stopped to get an espresso to try and clear my head. They would have seen me walk the mile and a half home. They would have known I wasn’t off shacking up with Brendan in secret.

  However, Anton shouldn’t have known anything. My life was my business. I wasn’t betraying him, and if he hadn’t sent anyone to follow me, he wouldn’t have had any suspicions at all.

  “I know we’ve only known one another a short time, but when have I ever given you a reason to doubt me? When have I ever given you cause to think I’m untrustworthy?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Today!” he shouted back. “I had you followed as a test, and you failed.”