“Everyone wants to see me,” he repeats. “The last thing anyone wants to do is look at me. Look at my fucking face, Bell!”
I look at him like I always have, the only thing I see is a friend who is struggling and full of hurt. My only goal is to take away his pain. I just want my friend back.
When you look at Slash, you’d see the jagged cuts across his face, how his left side doesn’t even slightly resemble a face anymore. To be honest, I’ve seen burn victims in the hospital who look better than he does. “You had something shitty happen to you. I get that. I understand that more than anyone, but never would I stand by and let that one shitty thing take control of my life. You need to make a decision, Slash. Are you going to sit here and hide forever, or are you going to live a life far better than the one you had before? It’s your decision.”
I stare at him for a moment, not waiting for a response as I walk out of his bedroom and firmly shut the door behind me.
I can only hope that he chooses the latter.
I’m praying to God that he does.
The End
Turn the page for a free chapter of Reckoning and some sneak peeks of Elizabeth’s upcoming releases!
Be sure to sign up for the Elizabeth Knox Reader Newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/cVNrzb
Free Chapter - Reckoning
(Skulls Renegade #5)
Chapter 1
Once upon a time there was a little girl…
Then she grew up and turned into a monster. -Anonymous
Katya
There are times throughout your life where no matter what you do, you will always be viewed as the monster. This is something that I know very well. For I have been a monster since I was nothing but a child. Most people wouldn’t accept such a word, they wouldn’t want to openly admit that this is what they are.
I know what I am and am not afraid of it.
Others, well you see – they will try to find ways for me to cope with what I am. They will search and search and try to say it was my mother or maybe even my father, that my experiences shaped me into what I am today. Fuck, they may even say that it was my husband and that I suffer from Stockholm’s Syndrome and that would give them reason enough to accept what I am.
I don’t give a fuck about anybody, so disappointing someone does not upset me.
The only person who molded me into the monster I am today is the one I must face in mirror every morning, like I am at this very moment.
I look into the crystal clean mirror before my eyes, picking up on every detail that is shown before me. The entire bathroom is on display, from the black tile floor with the bronze grout that my husband insisted we added, to our walk-in shower and separate tub that is lined with excavated rocks from the Carnallite mines back in our home country of Russia, to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking New York City, giving me a breathtaking view of Central Park and all around it. Every small detail of this bathroom has been a meticulous, calculating choice made by one person, my husband, Sergei Kolosov.
Sergei is an interesting man, and I use the word interesting lightly. He has a way of maintaining order and making sure that everyone around him knows exactly who he is. Those are some of the smallest reasons on why I love him, scars and all.
Sergei may indeed be a monstrosity, but he is the monster that I belong to.
When life happened and we ended up with Sergei I made sure that Ksenia and I would stay safe, doing anything that I had to do. I would have done anything for my little sister and still would to this very day. Above all, my family means everything to me, even if they don’t think that they do.
The story of how I came to be with Sergei is a long, dark tale, but nonetheless, it is my story. It is my life, and maybe one day, it will be my legacy.
Now, I can’t help but think of what he had done, and how the events of that night shaped my very future.
I’ve been here for a few weeks with Ksenia, they don’t speak to us very much and I suppose this is a good thing. We have been thrown around so much, sold to another and another. It makes me wonder if we are defective, why would we be sold this much? Is it because we are Petrov’s? Are we valuable, somehow? Or… will they end up killing us because they know who we are?
Every thought that can surge through my mind has come and gone, and yet I am still left with only one thing – the unknown.
“Sister…” I listen as Ksenia whispers next to me, finally, I take in a deep breath in and brace myself, turning towards her and seeing the fear that is obvious in her beady eyes. She reminds me of Bambi, of something so defenseless and weak. There are things that Ksenia does not understand, and if we were in any situation but the one we were – Well then, maybe I wouldn’t mind it if she were so weak, so fragile, so fucking innocent. But here we are, living a fucking nightmare. They make movies about the things we have to go through, and I say we, but what I really mean is I. What I have to go through, so these foul beasts don’t lay a hand on her. I have done horrible things, things that I shouldn’t have done. If we had a normal life, I would be called many names, I would even shame my family…I simply must remind myself that I have no ordinary life, and by doing what I have to I am assuring one thing, the most important thing – our survival.
“Girl!” I startle, jumping up at the sound of one of the guards, one who I have become very familiar with, in both good ways and bad. His name is Egor, and I do things for Egor that assures not only my safety, but Ksenia’s as well. I look into his eyes, trying to see what it is he wants. He either wants to fuck me, or I am in trouble – it could be both. I am bound to find out sooner or later. “Come.” His words lace with venom and hatred, he does normally speak to me in this way, however I know that something isn’t right.
I look down to Ksenia who is practically shaking at the sight of Egor. If she only knew what I did, then she would have reason to rest a bit easier. Fuck. What am I even saying? There is no reason for her nor I to rest easier. We are as safe in this place as we are anywhere else. Meaning, that we aren’t. We will never be safe.
We will never be safe ever again, our mother guaranteed that.
I take a few slow steps towards Egor, until he gives me one distinctive look that makes me stop dead in my tracks. He is giving me the very look that he gives the others when they are about to be branded, like a cow, or even a horse. Being sold has never been something that I thought would happen. I thought that if I would simply just…please the guards that they would keep us safe. I didn’t anticipate this, nor expect it. Fuck. What in the world have I been doing?
“Come. We don’t have all day!” He snarls at me, yanking me towards him as he latches his hand with a firm grip in my hair, he tugs and leads me out of our small cubby of a room and down the hall.
I take in slow, deep breaths, for I know what is coming. I have heard the others scream and I have seen how the metal burns their flesh. For a moment, I am afraid, and rightfully so. There is nothing that I can do to control what is about to happen to me, and my only concern is on my sister. If I have been sold…where will she go? What will happen to Ksenia? We have been together for far too long for us to be split apart now. Yet…that is the only thing that has happened to our family.
We have been torn apart.
My brother was sold as a young boy, ripped from our lives and somehow…someway, we stayed with our mother for a few years, and then it was our turn to be discarded. That’s what she did. She discarded us as if we were nothing. I still don’t understand why, but one day I will – if I live long enough to see that day.
Egor shoves me against the wall quickly, I feel everything as he pushes his body against my own, gliding his nose and mouth against my shoulder. “You. I don’t know why, but you always smell so good. You are different than the others, so very different. This makes you special to me, you see this, yes?”
“Yes,” I agree with him, my mind running in circles trying to understand what is going on.
“I know you are a smart girl, Katya. If you w
eren’t smart you would not be sucking my cock and fucking me at every beck and call. We both know this.” He flips me around harshly, my shoulder blades digging into the concrete behind me. “I will have you know that I do no favors, this is not in my nature. You are something, and you are nothing. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I tell him, lying straight through my teeth. I just want him to cut the bullshit and get to the point.
“You are something because you are different than all the rest who have come here, to this place.” He moves his hand around in a circle, “You, girl, are smart, and because of this I know you will accomplish much, even being a slave – I do not see you as one for long, especially with the man I have talked into purchasing you.”
I do not utter a word. I am simply breathing, processing what he just told me.
“My cousin, Sergei has been looking for someone like you, for a long, long time. He is older, and he will beat you until you turn black, he will violate and destroy you in every way you could ever imagine. He is a monster, sweet, sweet Katya. I think that you both will get along well, don’t you?” Those were the last words that were uttered to me before everything went black.
The last thing I remember is Egor telling me that my husband was as monstrous as I know him to be, yet, Egor didn’t tell me everything. No, and even Sergei didn’t. I had to find out things the hard way, and I always did.
Egor was right about one thing, though.
Sergei and I did get along, very well.
Maybe we got along too well.
Free Chapters 1 - 3 - Promised
(The Clans #1)
Chapter 1
Ion
I turned my green eyes towards the window of my penthouse apartment which overlooked the upper west side of Manhattan. I flicked my wrist to make the scotch in my glass slosh around impatiently as if I expected her to just show up on the street someday, looking up towards me as if she could see me. Yet, I spent eight years looking for both her and the bastards that took her, with no success. Most would not have waited so long, but I had my reasons. They were all selfish, and all valid.
The she in question was Mariana Vasile, the last remaining heir to the Romanian mob; a princess in her own right. She was the rightful next in line to run the clans, but she was a woman, and Romanians just did not see fit for a woman to be a leader. Maybe the Russians or the Irish did it, but the Romanians were all about tradition. So, the clans would pass on to her husband instead.
That would be where I come in.
She was promised to me when she was just days old.
Mariana was to be my queen, and I would be the king of the mob; the power of the infamous Vasile clan passing onto my shoulders as it had been planned since the day she was born. By now, I should have been married to her for at least six of the years she had been missing, but someone had seen fit to slaughter the Vasile line and take her, the last of the bloodline as the prize, probably believing that one day they would have the claim to the throne. The saddest part of it all is that she was she had only been 16 when they took her. I’d been working tirelessly, putting all of my resources into finding her. It had been years, and not one single trace of where she could be found had surfaced.
I’ll look, I’ll hunt, and one day I will bring my Ana home. She took my heart when she was just a child, at one of the few times we met. I knew from the time I was a small boy that she was mine, and that first meeting she took my heart with her.
Whoever it was who took her must not know me well. Ion Petran was the name I would shove down the throat of my enemy before I made him rue the day he tried to take that blood right from me. Nobody was going to take what was mine and get away with it – Ana – my promised throne, none of it. I didn’t care if my brown hair turned gray by the time I found her, I was going to get what I was promised and save her from whatever horrible fate she had been forced into all these years.
Just as it began to rain, water droplets pelting dramatically against the glass, I was pulled away by the incessant buzz of my cell phone. I was not in the mood to talk with anyone; obsessing over my next move to try and find the woman who was the key to everything I ever wanted, but I had to answer. The person on the other side could always have news of Mariana, and I was not going to miss that for the world.
"Buna," I said impatiently into the receiver, waiting to hear why one of my men had disturbed me.
"Domn, we have news that we thought you would like to hear," the thick voice of one of my associates came through the receiver. He was the leader of one of the several groups of men I had hired to hunt down those responsible for Mariana's disappearance and the murder of her parents. I’d spent millions on her search. It’s about time that they have something useful for me.
"Vorbi repede! Speak quickly! What do you know? What have you found?" I asked in a state of excitement. I waited with bated breath for the answer to my unworthy prayers over the last eight years, when I had shifted from a hopeful young man to an angry one with a vendetta.
"We believe we have a lead on the whereabouts of Miss Mariana Vasile." My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I wondered if I had misheard or maybe dreamed it. It had been years, and now they suddenly find a lead? What changed?
"Meet me at my office immediately. We have important matters to discuss," I ordered, recovering almost instantly. It was the best news I had heard in a long time, and I hung up, downing the rest of my scotch before I went to the closet. I pulled out my black Armani coat and pulled it over the button down I still had on from my investment meeting earlier. Even a man of the mob had to keep up appearances. The upper west side was full of men just like me, pretending to be something they weren’t while doing devious but lucrative things in the dark of night or the privacy of their lofts. So, as I climbed into the back of the black car with the tinted windows, I faded into the idea of the rich, mysterious, New York man, while I pondered on how much information my associates would be able to give me.
Eight years I had spent waiting for news of my Mariana, but her trail had gone dead far too soon. I had fallen into a routine of waiting; waiting for my life as head of the clans, beginning with, Mariana Valise by my side. No one could question me like the way they did now amidst the chaos that had become of the mob clans since the Valise king and queen had been brutally dethroned. If there was ever the perfect timing to find her, this was it.
I tried to relax in the back seat of the car, pouring myself a flute of champagne from the supply my driver kept well stocked for me, but not even the bubbles served to calm my nerves. Champagne is a custom, a common one for celebrations. Maybe today I will be celebrating the news I’ve been waiting years to hear. I was on some kind of high as I took the elevator up to the office space I rented out for the purpose of making it seem that I ran a legitimate business. Part of being a mob leader was mastering such deceptions. My father had taught me well.
As I sat on the only version of a throne I was afforded, for the time being, I looked expectantly at the man with the mustache and slicked back hair who was there representing his team of misfit investigators. They were the kind of men who were too dirty in their searching techniques for even the most crooked of police precincts.
The man’s gold-capped tooth glinted in the light as he smiled with a sinister gleam in his eye. “We know who has Mariana, domn,” the man offered happily.
I sat up in my seat, ready to leap into action at any moment. The name of my enemy was on the tip of this man’s tongue, and in knowing the name, I would have the power to bring my bride back to me. I could almost see her white blonde hair before me and smell her sweet scent that I remembered from when we were young children. She left that kind of impression on me, but maybe that was the powerful blood of hers and the smell of victory.
“Who was it?” I hissed impatiently.
“Jonas Masterson”
Chapter 2
Mariana
I screamed and fought, even though my body felt broken, and blood was everywhere. I
screamed and kicked at the hacks that had just pulled the baby out of my womb after 20 agonizing hours of labor. That child was the only thing I had that was mine anymore, and even half of it belonged to my captor. I didn’t even know if it had blond hair or dark hair, or if it was a boy or a girl. It had been swooped up and led away from me.
In any other world, it would be insane to think someone would kill a newborn baby, but these were special monsters. I thrashed, even knowing it could ruin my recovery. I could kill myself in the process, to make sure they understood four years as their prisoner did not mean all the fight was gone. I was a Vasile. The fight was in my blood even if I had not found a way to escape yet.
Finally, concerned looks crossed their faces as one tried to hold me down to no avail. I screamed until there was nothing left, for that child. The man who took me four years ago, the one that brought this child into being, stepped into the room looking like he was disgusted. He looked upon the crying bundle in one of his associate’s arms as if it had leprosy, or worse. For a moment, panic came over me. After everything my body had undergone while pregnant, I did not know if that baby could come out alright.
Jonas glanced at me with his evil gaze before nodding in my direction. The baby came closer and closer, and I calmed, reaching my arms out in relief and exhaustion. "Keep that thing away from me," Jonas spat in my face as I looked down at a healthy baby girl. I did not care what I had to do to protect her from that moment on; I would do it. My life had changed, it wasn’t just about me – it was about protecting her.
Relentless (Skulls Renegade Book 4) Page 17
