BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5)

by Kristina Weaver

  “Okay,” I mutter, drawing a harsh breath and swallowing. “I can’t have her up here, Tony. I just…she’s Misha’s ex.”

  It’s humiliating to admit that I’m not confident enough in my relationship with my husband to have an ex around, but it’s the truth.

  The last time I laid eyes her, she had her tongue in his mouth and her hand close enough to his dick to make me see red.

  I detest her. Part of me still hates Misha a little for putting me through that, and I hate myself almost as much for feeling this insecure about her. But I do. Add the fact that Misha is keeping a shitload of secrets from me and I feel red-hot rage.

  His family is obviously lying to me.

  How did my life become this freak show? How am I married to a man who’s turning out to be a big fat liar? How the hell am I this in love with a guy who has turned out to be a complete Neanderthal?

  He watches my every move, made worse since the stabbing I suffered in my bakery, one I barely survived. He makes me eat and gets sulky and moody when I refuse to be force-fed. He hates me wearing clothes that are revealing anywhere but the bedroom, and even then, he’s a total maniac about me wearing clothes when we’re alone.

  Even Leo and Vadi got their keys confiscated since the man likes me naked, and the last time we decided to play kitchen christenings, one of them walked in and almost saw my ass.

  That did not go down well.

  “I’m sorry, Ri. I won’t let her up here again, even if I have to kick her ass out myself,” he says, pulling me out of my head with the sympathy evident in his tone.

  The look on his face is worse and I scowl.

  “Don’t tell Misha.”

  “Ri—”

  “Please. We just got to a good place after everything we’ve been through, and I don’t want it messed up because of her. Please, Tony. I’ll tell him about it, I swear. I just need some time to process everything without him breathing down my neck twenty-four seven.”

  The sigh comes again before he nods and stalks for the door, stopping to turn back and give me a pointed look.

  “I’ll give you two weeks, but in exchange I want you to agree to take it easy in that time. No going back to work at the crack of dawn. And I’ve heard you arguing the poor guy to death about keeping your security detail when you’re cleared for work. Promise me you’ll agree to it and my lips are sealed, kid.”

  Blackmail?

  My lips twitch despite the blatant extortion tactics, and I narrow my eyes and shake my head.

  “All you need to qualify to be a pure-born Russian is the guilt trip, Tone. You sure both your parents are Italian?” I ask, my disgust warring with the look of horror on his face.

  “Jesus. Don’t say shit like that to an Italian, gumdrop. We take our heritage really seriously. Although, you wanna know what a real guilt trip is, go visit my ma. We, Catholics, have that shit encoded in our DNA. Just ask Ma. The woman made me sweat for two weeks when Lynn let it slip we don’t wanna buy a holiday home with her and Pop. Made my life a living hell for that shit.”

  My mouth quirks before I can stop it because I can relate. My own parents have that stuff down to an art and have even started harassing me about grandchildren.

  I want to laugh. I probably would have any other time when recalling her guilty drama till the thought of kids hits me. Misha had a daughter, and I know nothing about it.

  “I’ll keep the security, but you guys will have to learn to blend in when Shawshank lets me outta here. Deal?”

  “Deal. Now go splash some cold water on your face. Your guys are headed up and I’m not getting blamed for you crying. Your husband does mixed martial arts as a hobby. I have a wife I wanna live to see later.”

  When the door clicks shut I run for the bathroom and practically dive into the shower, my mind spinning with everything. I don’t know what’s going on, what to do…

  But I do know that with everything that’s happened, I can ill afford to be at odds with Misha right now, and that’s exactly what will happen if I allow Mina and her troublemaking to turn me into a nagging shrew.

  I won’t ask Misha a thing.

  But Mama Novac and that sister of his are definitely on my hit list. I need answers. I just hope I can get through whatever they tell me.

  Chapter Two

  Misha

  I’m half crazed by the time I burst through my door and start yelling for Irina, my heart beating so hard, it’s louder than the sound of our pounding footsteps.

  “Irina! Angel, where are you?”

  Since I carried her from the hospital and brought her home to my tower and the vicious men I pay to guard her, I have hardly had a moment’s sleep.

  I wake in a panic most nights, my nightmares filled with the sight of her pale face and the silence of her heart as I struggle to revive her. In those dreams, she doesn’t start breathing, her heart doesn’t start beating, and I howl in agony as I cradle her limp, bleeding body and beg her to come back to me.

  That’s what I live with whenever I’m away from her in any way and not physically touching her. Most nights I fall asleep inside her just to feel her warmth and life surrounding me, because it’s the only way I feel secure lately.

  She’s become an obsession for me, my reason for drawing breath, and it’s driving me insane. I swore years ago that I would never love another woman, and I will keep that damned promise. I will.

  If only those damn images would fade a little, I’d be rational enough to think, to push away emotions I neither want nor need.

  When I hear no reply and Vadim finally barrels into my back, followed closely by Leo, I feel cold dread hit me anew. If someone got up here and hurt her, I’ll track them down like dogs and skin them.

  After I kill an entire security team.

  “Irina!”

  “Geesh! What?”

  The sound of her voice and the sight of her hopping down the stairs, freshly showered and glowing with life makes my knees weak. I feel so relieved, I have no control when anger suddenly hits me. Hard.

  “Where the fuck were you?!”

  The roar has her starting in shock and I only realize I’ve stalked forward and grabbed her when that sweet sugary scent hits my nose and starts the inevitable hardening of my dick.

  It’s always like this with my woman. I see her, scent her, touch her, and I’m out of control with lust.

  I’m probably hurting her, I’m gripping her so tightly as I shake her, but I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s either yell some sense into her for scaring the shit out of me or throw her to the floor and get in there before I lose control completely.

  “Misha.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I told you—”

  “Misha. Nyet, brat! Release her, Misha!” Leo yells fiercely. I finally regain enough of my senses to look down at Irina.

  I’m shaking her like a fucking ragdoll. My hands release her instantly and I back away, terrified of myself in that moment as three sets of eyes stare at me in shock and fear.

  They should, I think, as I turn on my heel and stalk away, slamming my office door and going straight for the liquor. I’m out of control here, choked with fear and the dark emotions I felt so long ago when I couldn’t save one I loved.

  I almost went insane with grief. I think a part of me hoped I’d lose my mind because at that point, nothing mattered to me anymore but ending the ceaseless agony I felt.

  I feel that same agony now—that out-of-control defencelessness. That certainty that I will fail another person I…care about, and she’ll be taken away from me forever.

  I can’t have that. I just…

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? She was in the fucking shower, asshole. She didn’t hear her phone and Tony was in here just minutes ago to confirm it. What the fuck!”

  Leo keeps cursing and yelling at me as I down my drink and grab the bottle, falling into a chair at my desk as the adrenalin rush just stops, dumping me on my ass in an exhausted, disillusioned heap.
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  The happiness I felt not even hours ago is now gone, swept away completely by the magnitude of it all. I’m back in the family business now, completely immersed in this shit when recently I swore to my father that I would never go that way again.

  I have no choice, though, because I need answers, need to get close enough to the underbelly of our world to find the Chenkos and get near enough to them to take those fucks out.

  Keeping the fact that Irina is still alive a secret was an unreasonable dream, one that was screwed since the third day after she was released from hospital. I’ve intercepted two hits on her thus far, and poor Tony’s had to get rid of more meat than an ex-cop should ever have to dispose of.

  It’s all killing me and I can’t stand the feeling that no matter what I do, I’ll lose this fight. With Irina…she’s stubborn. She doesn’t like being cooped up at home and hates being away from her job.

  I tell her one thing and she yells another at me, I think just to prove that she can disagree. The last few weeks have been a constant struggle to keep her pinned down and I despise it.

  I want her to have freedom and enjoy our life together, not feel as if her tyrannical husband has lost his mind and is keeping her prisoner.

  I will, though. I will take her hatred and anger as long as it means keeping her safe from anything meant to do her harm.

  “Mish…”

  “Shut up, Leo. I don’t need to hear it.”

  “I think you do. You realize that you’re going to lose your mind if you do not stop comparing this to—”

  “I said shut up.”

  “Minkie,” he continues, completely ignoring the snarl of fury I can’t keep locked in my throat. “What happened was an accident, a terrible accident, Mish. We can’t change it and we will always grieve our little one, but you cannot do this to Ri. You cannot allow yourself to slip back into that place when she needs you now more than ever.”

  “I don’t want any of this, Leo! She was meant to be safe. A woman I could be secure with. Easy to be with.”

  “You mean easy to keep at a distance, brat. Don’t think I am foolish enough not to see your motivations with Irina. She’s a bubbly, happy, completely clueless woman when it comes to men. Stop snarling at me. I am in no way insulting my sister, Misha. I see how shy she is, how uncertain she is about your moods, and I see how completely open she is, too. That makes it easy for you to control her moods, Misha, and I know you well. You manipulate when you can’t just storm your way to victory.”

  I don’t bother to answer because he’s right, and I hate the feeling of guilt and shame at the way I’ve been with my woman. Irina is no man’s fool, but she’s vulnerable to emotions and I’ve been using hers against her like a pro.

  She wants me, so I use my body to control her. She needs reassurance and love, so I use my affection to keep her tied to me. The fear she feels, while also pissing me off, gives me another hold on her, because as distrustful as she is about our past, she trusts me with her life.

  I am very aware of her vulnerability when it comes to her feelings for me. It’s the biggest draw, as far as I am concerned.

  It’s more important than the sex, the closeness—anything else in our marriage—because it gives me an advantage, allowing me to keep some small amount of distance without risking her defection. Irina loves me, it’s plain as day to see, and that helps because it means she’ll want me no matter how emotionally fucked up I am.

  “I don’t want to manipulate Irina. I want her safe, Leo. You and I both know what is going to happen if she goes out there and one of the Chenkos or their hired rats gets their hands on her. If she’s Max’s, they need her dead before he gets word. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but—”

  “What if it isn’t them?” he cuts in. “You know she’s unstable enough to do this.”

  “Leo.”

  “After Min—”

  “I said enough!”

  “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

  I am. But right now I have enough shit to chew on without having to consider the fact that Mina may have lost her shit again.

  Chapter Three

  Irina

  “Come on and start!”

  I’m frantic and pretty sure I’m about to get my ass caught as I yell at Delilah in ways that I know will never get this car going.

  She’s ornery that way.

  “Come on, baby. Please? Just start for Mommy and I swear I’ll chew Tat out for throwing her takeout cartons all over the place. Come on, sweetheart. Do you want Mommy to take you for a nice massage? They’ll wax you so good you’ll shine, honey,” I purr through gritted teeth, pumping the gas once more as I stroke the wheel.

  As expected, the demon bitch coughs to life and splutters a little before choking to life with a ringing whine that has elation pouring through my veins.

  I knew she was alive!

  This shit is creepy as hell, but I’m pretty convinced Delilah can actually hear me.

  “Thank you, sweet pea. You’re a lifesaver,” I croon again as I shove her into reverse and back out of the dark corner Misha parked my baby in, my teeth grinding at the insult to one of mine.

  According to His Highness, Delilah is the ugliest thing he’s ever seen, and he’s not insulting his cars by parking her alongside one of his.

  I almost took a crowbar to his Bugatti when he let that slip, but decided against it when his eyes actually started tearing up when he stroked the damn thing.

  I honestly think he’d survive it a hell of a lot better if I kicked him in the penis, rather than assault one of his precious cars.

  Currently, though, I am limping my way slowly towards the exit boom, hoping I’ll get the heck out of here undetected when the guy from the third floor leaves for work.

  I could probably scrape under the boom with minimal damage, but Delilah may just take exception and throw a tantrum, so I’m planning to zip out behind Mr. Money and Muscles.

  Misha’s probably just hit the office after he rolled me out of bed at the crack of dawn to have shower sex and make breakfast for him and the terrible two.

  Not that I’m complaining since I set an alarm for the rescue of my beloved Sweetie this morning, but still…

  As I inch forward and squint at the boom, I get my lucky break and apply a shit ton of gas when Mr. Money’s Jag pulls up and the boom lifts. I make it out, barely, and thank God Almighty that Dee has no back end or she’d be kicking up a royal fuss right about now.

  My phone rings just as I’m turning onto my street and I groan.

  “Hello?”

  I suck at acting and my sleepy voice makes me sound like a drunken whore at a navy bar.

  “Who you trying to fool with that shit, sister? Whatcha doin’? Why you trying to pretend you’re sleepy when I just saw the pink demon whizz past my apartment? Are you and Misha fucking again? Does your vagina not have any feeling left, you lucky bitch? I swear, every time I call you he’s giving you a G-spot massage.”

  My eyes roll at Tat’s language, and I suppress a chuckle as I pull into my old parking space and Dee gasps a moan of homecoming before dying completely. Lazy skank.

  “I came to get Sweetie, you pervert.”

  “I thought you took that little bastard with you,” she mutters. I grin just imagining the sight of her wolfing down a microwave burrito, her newest craving lately.

  Poor Tatiana. She’s heartbroken after my bastard brother Luka got drunk at a party and she walked in on the asshole going down on one of her cousins.

  Turns out Tat got a little more of Luca than she deserved, though, because she’s pregnant and currently engaged in a cold war with him.

  “Misha threatened to skin him and cook me stew when the little darling tried to bite my butt again.” I giggle as I exit the car, pat Dee’s ass in appreciation, and jog toward the door. “I had to ask Mrs. D to watch him for a few days while I convinced Feliks to help me out and take him in till Misha gets over himself. You’d swear my fat ass is made of gold th
e way that man went after poor Sweets.”

  Tatiana’s own giggle turns into a curse, and I hear her spit before the sound of her shrieking assaults my eardrums.

  “I told you to fuck off! What part of that do you not understand?!”

  Uh-oh.

  “Just talk to me! Please.”

  “I said fuck the hell off. Go eat another chick out and leave me alone. I hope you get mouth crabs and lose your tongue. I hope your teeth go green from dirty coochie and fall out one by one. I hope your—oh, hell, now I’m gonna puke.”

  I’m hysterical by the time I hit Mrs. D’s door; the sounds of Luka having a meltdown as Tatiana vomits everywhere makes my belly roll with laughter.

  “Told…you…”

  The line goes dead and I give a little thought to calling one of the girls to go rescue poor Tat from Luka’s insanity but nix the idea immediately. That girl can throw a punch that would make a man weak in the knees.

  “Ri! Good Lord, honey, please tell me you’re here to get this thing or my Henry night actually be arrested for animal murder. We love animals but that…” she huffs, pointing at the sofa where Sweetie’s licking his paw with a smirk. “That is not natural. He hid on the fridge, must have been there all Goddamn night, and waited for Henry to go in for his morning coffee. Let’s just say my husband went to work sans his toupee this morning, and I got an earful.”

  Shit. I bet the little turd when full evil on poor Henry.

  “I am so sorry, Mrs. D. I’ll take him right now and have Mr. D’s toupee replaced. I am so sorry. Bad cat! Look at all the trouble you’re causing. Mama’s very upset with you, Sweetie,” I say, almost melting when he looks up and gives me his big green cat eyes.

  Aww, how’s a heart supposed to stay hard when the little furball is that adorable?

  By the time I make it out of there—in ten seconds since the woman practically threw the cat and his bowls at me—it’s just past six and the sun has started rising.

  “Start, baby. Please start,” I whisper, praying for a miracle.