Everything feels normal between us, like a new couple exploring each other. Most of the time, when he’s with me, I forget. Sometimes it comes back, though. Hatred and sadness. I glance down at the bandage around my wrist. Sometimes I remember the worst things, and the nightmare feels so real.
But not when I’m with Kane. He wards off all of my demons. I feel so safe with Kane, but I’m still terrified of him being upset with me. A dark voice whispers deep inside, it’s because you’re broken.
“We can--” I start to suggest, but he cuts me off.
“You’re tired, baby. You’re gonna pass out on me.” He yawns and puts one arm behind his head.
It has been a really long day. After we picked out the apartment we had to buy everything to fill it. Tomorrow’s going to be a long ass day, too. But at least the morning will be off to a good start. I cover my mouth as another yawn takes control and shows itself without my consent.
“Get some sleep, baby. Tomorrow night I gotta run out and do some things, but we’ll still celebrate and break in the new apartment together.” He rocks his dick into me and forces a small giggle from me. I’m excited to move in with him. My heart swells in my chest. It feels like a huge step forward for us. I lower my eyes and rest my head against the pillow as his arm wraps around me.
Confusion stirs in me as I start to think about us as a couple. He was my captor, and then my savior. And I’ve been nothing but a victim. At least to him. Broken, the dark voice whispers. I close my eyes and force the voice away. I’m not broken. I’m his. I can’t be broken.
Smash! The gun falls down and crashes against his skull. Smash! I hit the butt of the gun against his teeth, cracking them. They break off and the jagged edges scrape and cut the skin of my hand.
I pull my hand back and examine my wound. Small drops of blood fall from the cuts and I follow them as they land on Vadik’s broken and bloodied face.
As my eyes land on his, they open and stare back at me.
I scream out, “Help me!” Terror strikes my heart. My blood runs cold. I scream out for Kane. He’ll save me. But my voice is broken. I can’t speak his name. My hand grips my throat as I try again. Kane! I want to yell, but there’s only silence.
“He’ll never love you. You’re just playing a part. What do you think he’ll do to you when he finds out who you really are?” Vadik sneers, with a wicked smile.
I shake my head in denial. “Kane loves me,” I whisper, feeling as though the words are true.
“If loved you, he’d tell you that. He doesn’t even know you and your sick thoughts.”
I shake my head and back away as he rises from the ground, following me. Getting closer to me. I scoot back on my ass, shoving myself against the wall. Vadik cages me in, his face just an inch from mine.
“He’d never love a whore like you. A worthless little bitch who lied to him. He wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of you. You’re nothing!” he screams at me, and pulls his hand back to strike me. My hands fly up to cover my face.
Kane’s hovering over me as a scream is torn from my throat. He has a grip on both of my wrists as they fly through the air.
“It’s okay. Ava, I’m here. It’s okay.” He keeps repeating himself as my breathing comes in frantic, desperate gasps, and my heart threatens to leave my chest. I try to steady myself, but I can’t. It was so real. It was too real.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” His eyes search my face with worry. I can’t make him worry. I can’t lose him.
I shake my head and place a hand over my beating heart. I remember the dream. I remember Vadik’s words. I won’t let that happen. I won’t let Kane know how ruined I am.
“Just a bad dream,” I whisper. His shoulders stay tense and his mouth parts slightly. He doesn’t believe me. “Will you hold me?” I ask him. He likes it when I ask him to comfort me. And I like it, too. I need it. I feel so safe in his arms.
“Of course, baby.” He kisses my lips and pulls me closer to him. “I’ve got you, baby.”
I close my eyes, but I’m very much awake. He doesn’t have me. He hardly even knows me. And if he did, I’d be nothing to him.
Ava
“You look beautiful, baby,” Kane says, and then kisses the crook of my neck. “But I think you need a little something extra.” I turn in his arms, and stand on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. He grins at me as he reaches in his back pocket.
My heart sputters in my chest. Could it possibly be a ring? No. I shove down that hope even though it’s clawing its way up my chest. These last two weeks have been a dream come true. We have a cute little apartment I’m making into a home. I just got accepted into the university. All the little things on my wishlist are getting checked off.
And it’s all because of Kane. He’s my everything, and I feel like he loves me. I feel like we’re meant to be together. The doubt I had seems to dim each day. Most of the time I think we’re perfectly happy, perfectly fit for one another. I almost feel whole with him.
But a ring?
He’d be committing his life to me. To a liar. The dark voice that’s gone quiet for so long speaks up, and depression shatters the fantasy in my head.
“These.” He opens the box to reveal a pair of drop dangle sapphire earrings. “I think they’d really bring out your eyes.” My heart slows, and my world seems to stop. They’re beautiful. He gently pries one from the box and I quickly hold out my hand, waiting with bated breath.
I put them on one at a time and then face myself in the mirror. The silver boatneck dress I’m wearing clings to my curves. It sparkles in the mirror. My skin looks radiant. I’ve certainly gained weight. My hand rests on my lower tummy. Maybe a little too much weight. I clear my throat as Kane’s eyes catch mine in the mirror.
Déjà vu hits me. I remember what I looked like that day. My eyes drift to my neck, where the collar used to be. Where Kane’s collar was that day. I look to the small jewelry box on top of the dresser. He thinks I threw it away, but I didn’t. I don’t want to. It reminds me of that day and who I really am. I feel the blood drain from my face as the day plays fast-forward before my eyes.
“Do you like them?”
“I love them.” I force out a peppy voice and try to show him my sincerest gratitude.
I feel like a fraud. I don’t know what I’ve been doing all these days playing house with Kane. That’s what it feels like now that I’m reminded who I am. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.
I close my eyes and try to will away the feelings, but instead I see a flash of his face. My eyes open quickly and I instantly catch Kane’s questioning expression in the mirror.
“Are you alright, baby?”
“Yeah.” I force a casual smile onto my face and then look back in the mirror. My fingers touch the sapphires and I watch as they sparkle in the mirror. They’re beautiful.
But I don’t deserve them.
White tablecloths cover every table. Some have pale pink overlays, while others have a soft lavender. There are at least 20 tables in the hall, although most are empty now. Most guests are on the dance floor, leaving the tables empty. My ass has remained firmly in this chair ever since Kane sat me down. I don’t know anyone here. He at least knows a handful of the men.
It’s Vince’s uncle’s godson’s wedding. So, no one I fucking know. The only people I do recognize are the few from a time in my life I’m doing my best to forget. I loved how Kane put his arm around me during dinner. He made me feel more welcomed, and more comfortable. But I still couldn’t manage to contribute to the conversation.
Becca and Dom have a newborn, a son. I love babies, but I couldn’t speak up. Elle is pregnant now and she looks so beautiful, but I didn’t even compliment her.
This wedding is just like every other wedding. Only every wedding I’ve ever gone to in the past was for family.
I remember the last wedding I went to with my family. I went with my mother, father, and sister. We were the first table. Naturally. My father alway
s got the first and best of everything. Alec Ivanov, the Pakhan of the Russian mafia, the Bratva. My father was an immigrant in the States when he met my mother. He was there on family business, but elected to stay behind when she got pregnant with my sister.
When I was eight, my grandfather died. We were only supposed to go there for the funeral, but that’s when things changed. My father went on the warpath. He was out for blood. And he got it. He quickly became known as a threat, but instead of fighting him, they made him the Pakhan, the boss.
It didn’t take long for things to spiral out of control. I don’t know whether my mother and sister didn’t see, didn’t care, or just didn’t want to admit it was true. The men my father associated with in his line of business were strange, and touched my sister and I more than they should have. I know my parents saw, but they didn’t do anything to stop it. It’s like my father paraded us around, saying we were untouchables, but he never did anything to actually enforce that. I never felt safe with any of the men he'd bring around, but he’d leave us alone with them and practically dare them to disobey him.
He taunted them.
He started coming home late and drugged up or drunk most nights. One night I watched as he beat my mother until her head hit the wall so hard she went unconscious. I watched as he kicked her, thinking she was faking it. Once, then again. He looked genuinely sorry he’d hurt her when he realized she wasn’t faking. He got down on his knees and held her. And then he passed out.
I’d never wanted to hurt someone so much in my life. He was there, helpless. But I didn’t. Not then.
I never saw him try to hit her again, but I was ready. He did leave me alone with his men again, well he tried, anyway. I was only 16. And Marie, only 14. But I knew better, and I wasn’t going to stand for it again.
“You’re a sick fuck!” I yelled at him as he turned his back on me. Our own father. Marie grabbed my wrist to pull me back, but I wasn’t going to let him do this to us. Leaving us with men who could hurt me, men who wanted to hurt me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but they were from anger. I remember the faces of the men in the room.
“Excuse me?” he sneered, stomping toward me. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” His face was so red, and his eyes the darkest they’d ever been. His fists were clenched at his sides.
But I stood my ground.
“You know what you’re doing.” I looked to my right at the three men watching me with nervous glances. “How could you do this to us?”
His eyebrows raised, and a sick smile formed on his face. It was then that I realized I no longer truly knew him. He was a monster.
“Maybe I should just leave you here.” He nodded to the men in the room. “I’m sure they could teach you what this mouth is for.” He gripped my face and shook my head. My eyes burned, and my heart hurt.
When he let me go, the force made me stumble back. “You wouldn’t,” I said, looking up at him with daggers in my eyes. “It wouldn’t be as much fun to you.” I sneered at the ground, not bothering to look my father, the bastard he was, in the eyes. I grabbed my sister’s hand and dragged her out of the room with me. It was silent. I’d never been so scared in my life as we hid in my room. Waiting for him to come home.
I was too ashamed to tell my mother.
When he finally walked through the doors and my mother called us to dinner, it was as though nothing had happened.
As though we were the same family, not one of us broken.
I couldn’t swallow a single bite; I kept waiting. But nothing ever happened, and he never brought either of us around his businesses again.
That was my family.
And now they’re all dead.
I take a sip of water and try to calm myself. I need to stop with all these negative memories. I’m doing a miserable job of fitting in. The men took off a bit ago to let the women chat. I’m finding it hard to click with them, though. They seem like wonderful people; women I’d love to be friends with. But I’m holding myself back.
At least Kane doesn’t seem to notice. And everyone seems to think I’m just shy.
“Oh, she’s so shy,” they all say. And, “You’re so sweet.” I’ve heard it over and over today. I’m not sure why. I feel awkward and like I’m failing Kane. He just keeps kissing my cheek and running his hand up and down my back.
But now he’s gone.
Elle and Becca have been talking about kids and I know they don’t mean to, but I feel a little excluded. Even though every time they ask me a question, I give them a one-word answer. Maybe it’s better this way.
My heart sinks a little. I don’t want it to be this way. I take a deep breath and notice a pause in their conversation, so I cut in.
“Where did you two meet your husbands?” I keep my tone peppy and give them a bright smile. I lean forward to show them they have my full attention.
Becca answers first. “Work.” She looks to her right as if she’s searching Dom out in the crowd, and adjusts the napkin on her lap. But after a second she turns back to me with a small smile. “Sort of through my ex-husband.”
“Oh! I didn’t know you were divorced.”
“He passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I respond quickly, and with a lowered voice. Dead. Death follows me everywhere.
“Where did you two meet?” Elle asks.
I blink once, then twice at them. “I was sort of lost...” I start to say, and Becca raises her eyebrows, almost comically. “In the States, I mean. I’m from here originally, but we moved to Russia when I was young. I bumped into Kane and he helped me find my footing here.” I make up a bullshit answer.
“Oh! So that’s where that hint of an accent comes from!” Elle says.
“Accent?” Becca looks at Elle like she just said something truly perverted.
“I think I may have a tiny accent on some words. But I was older when we moved,” I answer.
Elle starts to ask the obvious question. And I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as her mouth slams shut. I wonder how much she knows. How quickly she’ll be able to put two and two together.
“I have to say, you two are an adorable couple. I’m so happy we finally got a chance to meet you,” Becca says, and Elle nods in agreement.
I feel a slight smile pull at my lips and say thank you, but my chest hurts.
How did they meet? At a bar and through work. Like normal people.
“I have to pee. Again,” Elle says, holding her swollen belly and it’s funny, but I don’t laugh.
“Do you have to go, too?” Becca asks.
I do. But I’d rather not right now.
“No, you two go ahead. I’ll wait right here for you.” I smile back at them.
“Are you sure?” Becca asks.
“Of course, I’ll keep an eye out for the dessert tray for us.” I force out a happy tone. But I’m feeling more insecure than ever.
“You’re so sweet,” Elle answers, and turns to her right as someone calls out her name. She leans closer to me with a smile and says, “We’ll be right back to talk more.” She squeals at the end and it forces a smile from me.
But it’s forced nonetheless.
Everyone keeps calling me a sweet girl. Kane thinks I’m a good girl, but I’m not. None of them know me. Not the real me.
I’m not like these women. They’re strong, and obviously in love with their men. But they’re also normal. They aren’t ruined and broken beyond repair. My eyes fall, and I reach for the tall glass of champagne in front of me and put it to my lips. I taste the smallest bit on my tongue, but nausea keeps me from taking more into my mouth.
And they may already know who I am. What I’ve been through. They could be talking about it in hushed whispers in the bathroom right now.
Everyone at the wedding may know. They’ve been sweet to my face, but behind my back, what are they saying?
I’m sick of who I am. I’m sick of hiding it. I’ll never be okay. I’ll never heal. My eyes search t
he room and I find Kane by the bar. Talking and laughing. It’s genuine, not forced like me.
He deserves so much more.
Shame and guilt consume me.
He’s done so much for me; how can I treat him like this? All I do is lie to him and pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t keep doing this. I set the glass down and lift the white linen napkin off my lap. As I place it on the table, I see the knife.
I casually slip the knife into my clutch and stand up.
No one will notice me leaving.
My heart clenches at the thought of Kane finding out. But it’ll be better this way. He deserves so much more than me. I’m so fucking selfish. I’ll keep lying to keep him. It’s wrong. I’m ruined and broken.
I’m not his good girl.
Kane
Where the hell is Ava going? I watch as a sliver of her dress vanishes behind the door. It closes slowly and I give it a moment before opening it as quietly as possible so she doesn’t hear me sneaking up on her.
I can’t imagine what she’s up to. She’s not from around here, so I don’t think she’d be doing anything but taking a look around. Still, it’s not wise. She should know that. You don’t go snooping around on mafia territory. It’s just not smart. I hear her heels clicking down the hall as I walk slowly to the corner. And then the noise is gone, replaced by the patter of her feet smacking against the tiled floor.
Maybe her feet are hurting her and she just needs some fresh air? My forehead wrinkles in confusion. She has to know I’d give them a little rubdown for her. I clench my jaw as I turn the corner. Something twists in my gut. This is off. Something’s just not right.
Ava’s my good girl. She never leaves to go anywhere without telling me. I clench my fists as I hear the large doors to the back entrance of the hall open with a soft creak. As my pace picks up, so does my heartbeat.
Adrenaline races through my blood. I catch the door just before it closes shut and open it as silently as I can. I peek out and see her walking into the edge of a line of trees to the left. I clench and unclench my hands. I want to pretend she’s going to be happy to see me when I get to her, but I’m not fucking stupid. That’s not going to happen.
Good Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 13
