Disbelief (Smirnov Bratva Book 2)

by T. L Smith

  We walk a few steps before she speaks, “He didn’t hit on you, did he?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Nope. He just complimented my breasts.”

  She stops walking. “He did not! Do you want me to smack some sense into him?”

  I shake my head and pull her forward to continue walking. “I can’t leave him alone too long, I don’t fully trust everyone here,” she says referring to Maso.

  “He loves you deeply, you know. He only wants to protect you.”

  “I know… trust me, I know. He just hasn’t realized I can do that myself.” She stops to talk to a few people, introducing me to some. I shake hands and smile, giving nothing else. Then she lets go of my hand, and I know she’s back in Kazier’s arms. I hear him whisper in her ear, and then I hear the soft giggle that follows.

  “Someone’s glaring at me right now. Don’t tell me you’re already taken and my chances are shot to shit,” Maso’s voice booms next to me.

  I turn his way. “Who?”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Pollie.”

  “No. But who is staring?”

  “I don’t know, one of Kazier’s men. Scary mother fucker if you ask me that’s for sure. He looks like he’s ready to walk over and rip my cock out, then hang it around his neck for good measure.”

  The laugh comes from nowhere, I can’t help it. The shit that comes out of his mouth can only be believed when you hear it. I bet his facial expressions are the same. He doesn’t seem to be a man who can hold much back.

  I may have a screw loose, I think. I may even be missing a key ingredient that’s needed as protection. Because I should not want to be anywhere near him. Except. I want to be.

  At first, Death intrigued me. Here was this man, who couldn’t remove my hand from his. Then another feeling started to stir within me. He became this man, who I felt better being around, someone who made me feel desired. Someone I wanted to be around, as much as he wanted to be around me.

  Then when the knife incident occurred, it threw me. But it didn’t deter me because I know he did it from fear. He wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Everything he does is calculated, he thinks everything through. So when that knife paused on my neck and didn’t slice, I knew he didn’t think it over properly. If he did, I wouldn’t be standing here, inches away from him right now. I would be in the ground, not even breathing.

  So I want to know. I want to know why he did it? Why he couldn’t do it? He doesn’t scare me— no, it’s the opposite—he intrigues me.

  “That’s Death,” I say instantly knowing who he’s talking about. Because as of right now, I can feel his penetrating stare.

  “Fucking suits him. Look, no disrespect, Pollie. But I’m kind of afraid if I don’t step away from you right now that my cock… I will be wearing it as a necklace sooner rather than later.”

  I hear his footsteps as he pushes away from me, and I feel Death as he makes his way to me. Trapping me with his presence.

  Chapter 5

  Death

  I don’t dream. I don’t ever remember dreaming. But I have been. I’ve been dreaming of her. I wake up covered in sweat every morning, because of her. I don’t want her to burden me the way she does, I want it all to go away. I figured months without seeing her would do just that, but it hasn’t.

  Now I can see her, standing there, in a dress that she should never wear in public.

  My dreams don’t do her justice.

  Not one bit.

  She laughs at that cockhead—I want to kill him for making her laugh. The way her eyes scrunch up and her nose crinkles in laughter, he shouldn’t be making her do that, it’s not his right.

  I was warned not to go within close distance of her, and if I saw her to walk away. Boss made that crystal clear. Elina even made it clearer that I should not provoke. So I have stayed in the one spot for most of the evening, not even realizing that I have, in fact, been creeping closer to her. I watch as her lips move, her fingers dance along on her cane. She wants to dance, she wants to move to the music. Music is her life. I wonder when was the last time she danced, then I want to shoot myself for even thinking of something so stupid.

  What the fuck do I care? But I seem too, that’s the problem.

  Elina’s brother’s eyes find mine, he holds his stare before he speaks to her, then his eyes drop away as he talks. As I edge my way slowly closer, he walks away leaving her standing there in the clutches of Elina, who’s currently shaking her head at me as I step up in front of her.

  “Pollie,” Elina says trying to guide her away. She doesn’t move and holds strong. Her eyes are on me, her body pointed toward mine. Even though I know she can’t see me, it’s like she can read me better than anyone else. Pollie shrugs her arm free, and her small hand reaches out for me. I look at it, and for the first time I’m afraid to take it. Because I could be so bad for her, I don’t want to taint her. She’s the only good in this world, and mixing it with me is a sure fire disaster.

  “Death…” Her lips move, sound comes out, but I can’t seem to take that step. I feel glued. I don’t want to inflict pain on her, I don’t want her to be tainted with my bad. She’s so far from it. She takes a step forward, and her hand connects with my chest. I take a deep breath as she traces it down my arm and comes in contact with my hand. Her small fingers wrap around mine, she squeezes, and my hand does the same to hers.

  We stand in the same spot, Elina’s eyes are trained on us. I don’t look at her, I’m not interested in what she thinks. Looking around, I notice the outdoor area is empty, so I move her with me. She almost falls over in her heels as I pull her along, but her hand lands on my back to keep herself upright. Opening the door, I observe someone standing there. I nod my head toward the door in a ‘get out now’ gesture, and they basically run past us shutting the door and leaving the area empty so now there’s just the two of us. I drop her hand and take a step back. She doesn’t move, standing still.

  “I can feel your eyes on me.” Her voice is so soft, so kind. “Do you hate me?” she asks, her hand comes up and touches her neck. It lingers for a second, her finger running along the small puckered scar that’s there, then she drops it to her side. “Are you going to answer me?”

  “No.”

  Her nose scrunches up in confusion. “No, you don’t hate me? Or no, you don’t want to answer me?” I hear her fast intake of breath as she becomes impatient with me. I like it.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  Her arms flail around then fall back down. She mutters, “Finally,” then takes a step toward me. “Why did you do it?”

  No roundabout talk. She wants an answer to a question, and I have no idea what to give her.

  “I don’t know,” is all I can manage to say.

  She shakes her head. “You do. Don’t lie to me. Tell me.”

  “Because I didn’t like the feelings.”

  “What feelings?”

  I shake my head. Why must she push? “That I was having for you.”

  “I want you to take me home.” Her free hand pushes outward in my direction.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I look to her hand like it’s poison. She can’t seriously be asking to be alone with me when no one else is around?

  “Yes. You won’t hurt me again.”

  “You don’t know that.” My hand runs through my hair, she’s growing some balls.

  “I do. Now take me home, please.” Her hand still stretched outward toward me.

  I look at her face, then back at her hand. Mine inches closer, and eventually I take hold of it. Her beautiful hand instantly calms me. All my worries disappear. And I know she’s right, if she has a hold of my hand, I won’t hurt her. Those bad thoughts won’t enter because somehow her presence stops them. Not all, just the ones where I could hurt her.

  I guide her to the car. No one stops us when we leave. That is until Elina walks out and her hand pulls Pollie backward catching her off guard. I grab Pollie before she falls. Her dress
is so soft.

  Contact, full body contact, I shouldn’t be having with her.

  It makes me want to glide my hands, all over her body. I resist the urge, pulling her upright. Her scent clogs my senses. I almost forget Elina is there until she speaks.

  “You can’t leave with him, Pollie. I won’t allow it.”

  Pollie straightens her spine. I don’t even look to Elina, it’s not her I’m worried about. Fuck. She could shoot me again and I would still come back. Can’t put this fucker in the ground until I’m ready.

  Pollie’s hand reaches up. I almost want to snatch it back, take a hold of it. Her hands are mine. No one else’s. I shake my head as I watch, trying to not think about her hands, the ones that calm me when there’s even no reason to. They just…do.

  Pollie’s hand squeezes Elina’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll text you if I need you,” Pollie speaks then turns and starts walking away. Leaving Elina standing there staring, but she doesn’t stop us knowing that I’m not forcing her. She climbs in the car, and I find it’s impossible to keep my eyes off her. Pollie’s body is so unlike any woman I’ve previously fucked. Most women I fuck have fake breasts and are covered in make-up.

  Pollie is just… Pollie.

  Herself.

  She doesn’t speak as we drive back to her house. She doesn’t even fidget. Instead, she just sits there, lost in her own thoughts. I don’t turn the engine off as we come to a stop in front of her house, afraid of getting out of the car and having to say goodbye.

  “Can you walk me in?” she asks, her hand on the handle of the car door. It takes a lot of willpower to cut the engine and climb out to go to her. She has the door open when I reach her, her right foot already out on the ground. I grab her arm to guide her, a smile touches her lips, and I close the door leading her to her apartment. I haven’t actually been inside before, all the other times I’ve been with her, I’ve taken her to my house. She touches the buttons, the door buzzes and she pushes it open. I stand there. Her half inside and me still outside when she tugs at me to follow her.

  “I want you to come inside,” she states, walking completely through her door.

  I don’t argue, I don’t pull away, just follow her instead. Pollie’s hand is still on me as she walks with me inside. My steps are slow, but my mind is racing. I don’t want to think too much, so I focus on everything and anything but my thoughts.

  Her place is extensive, and open space. Just one couch sits in the living room. A kitchen as soon as you enter, and a bedroom off the living room.

  I don’t think she realizes she shouldn’t be left alone with me. Where is her head at? I did cut her throat attempting to kill her.

  “Why am I here?”

  She doesn’t need her cane as she walks around, she moves like she knows exactly to the inch where everything is located. Everything perfectly positioned, so she can easily find her way.

  “I want to know why,” she simply says as she reaches her couch. She doesn’t sit, but her body is still positioned facing toward me. I take a few steps so I’m closer to her. To listen to her better I tell myself when really it’s just because I can’t stay away from her. “I don’t understand you. I understand a lot of people, it’s something I have to be good at… judging people. You… I don’t understand.” She sits down, and I walk closer, now standing in front of her, looking down at her small frame.

  “You’ll never understand me.”

  Her head pulls up, her eyebrows scrunch. “Why?”

  “Because… I don’t even understand me.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Death. And what’s with that name? That can’t be your birth name, surely. Tell me your real name?” Her voice is demanding, I’ve never heard her demand, ever.

  “You don’t want to know the meaning behind that name?”

  She shakes her head, and I watch as her blonde hair shakes over her face. I instantly reach out, brushing it back. It’s so soft, unlike anything I’ve touched. I run my fingers through it feeling the silky strands. She sits up straighter, and I drop down so I’m squatting, having no idea why. Her hand comes up. She reaches for my face, I pull away, but she insists. Her tiny hand touches my face—it’s rough, I haven’t shaved for days. Then before I know what I’m doing, my lips touch hers. I don’t move, afraid that she’ll scream or find something and stab me for touching something so good. Or possibly die on the spot for even thinking I could have someone so out of my league. Someone so…. pure.

  Her mouth opens, then her lips start to move. Shock radiates through me, she’s kissing me back. And before I know it, I have her by her neck and pushed back on the couch, her mouth on mine, and kissing the ever-loving shit out of her.

  She doesn’t push the monster away. I wonder if she’s my toy? A toy put in front of me to test my limits because she does, she tests every single one of them.

  Chapter 6

  Pollie

  His lips, oh my God, his lips. So full, so soft. I’ve never touched or kissed lips like his. It’s like a sex cushion on my lips, that invades you and makes you think of dirty things. It can’t be legal. His hand creeps up, it wraps around my throat and he pushes me backward, his large body encasing me.

  He’s large, I’m a third his size, and it should worry me because he could easily overpower me. Hell, he could easily kill me without a second thought. And he almost did, but he hesitated, he wanted them to stop him. He didn’t care about himself, he craved to be stopped. Because he held that knife to my neck, but he didn’t slice, and he could have so easily sliced me open.

  My hands skim down his face, going to his arms. He doesn’t stop kissing me, he also doesn’t move his hands from my throat either. I push up on him, he groans into my mouth, then in a second he’s gone. His body no longer on mine, his hands no longer touching me.

  “We can’t!”

  I hear his footsteps as he walks to the front door, my mind still lost on his lips. My finger runs over my lips, the tingles that are present are still prickling. How did he do that?

  “Stop touching your lips!” he barks at me.

  He hasn’t left.

  His voice isn’t close, but at least he’s still here.

  “You’re an incredible kisser,” I praise him.

  He doesn’t speak, and I worry that somehow while lost in my own thoughts that he’s left, then I hear his boot hit the tiled floor as he takes a step.

  “Do you want me to kill you? Is that what you’re asking for?” His voice still too far away to hear him properly, so I stand and walk over to him. I hear his breathing as soon as I’m close enough. My hand reaches out and makes contact. His breathing isn’t as harsh and labored as soon as I touch him.

  “I think your feelings toward me confuse you,” I tell him honestly. “Tell me why?”

  “Because I want to kill you.”

  I try not to gasp because I know he speaks the truth. I can hear it in the way his voice is rough, rigid and inflexible like it was a difficult thing to say, but he had to say it because it’s the truth.

  “Will you kiss me again?” I dare ask. I crave his warmth, his desire, my lips want him back on me.

  “No.”

  “Will you stay? Just sleep next to me and hold my hand?” I temp him with my words. Knowing he doesn’t want to go further, but I need to know more, I want to know more.

  “Do you want to wake up covered in your own blood?”

  I drop my hand from his, but as soon as I do he reaches for it and takes it again. Then his phone starts ringing and he curses when he answers it. I hear rushed talking, something about Kazier, then I feel him drop my hand and click off the phone button.

  “I have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my job is to clean up the mess… destroy the evidence.” He doesn’t walk, he’s waiting for my reaction.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Work it out, Pollie, then you’ll see who I really am. Work out what kind of mess I would have to clean up f
or someone like my family,” he expresses harshly then walks away. I hear the door close behind him then his voice booms from on the other side of the door. “Lock it! You don’t want me back after I’ve cleaned. Trust me.”

  I do as he says, my hands quickly on the door finding the lock and flicking it. Then I slide the extra lock across as a habit. Slowly I slide down, dropping to the floor. His words float around, and I try to figure out if it’s as bad as I think it is.

  It can’t be, can it?

  ****

  A knock wakes me from my sleep. I press my watch on my hand, and it reads out the time—two a.m. Who would be knocking this late? Then I remember his words, about not letting him in. I stay in bed and listen as the knocks come, a pause, then again another knock. I manage to stand next to my bed while the rapping continues. My feet are bare and the wooden flooring beneath my feet is cold. As I walk out toward the front door, his knocking is now becoming heavier, more vigorous, and soon it’ll wake everyone up, not just me.

  “Pollie…” His voice is dark, dangerous. My hand squeezes around the door knob, but that voice makes me stop from pulling it open.

  What state is he in?

  “I can hear you breathing, Pollie.” He stops banging, now he’s just there, standing outside my door. I know he hasn’t moved, I just know he’s waiting. “Open the door, Pollie.”

  “You told me not to.” My voice squeaks, letting him know I’m unsure, scared.

  “I know.” He stops talking. I take a deep breath thinking that’s it, then he continues, “But I want to touch you.”

  My head drops against the door. He didn’t want me to touch him before, why does he now? What’s changed?

  “Will you hurt me?” I ask my hand now back on the door, waiting for his answer.

  “I’ll try not to.” That’s all he says, and I’m pretty sure that’s the only answer I’m going to get. So I unlock the first lock, followed quickly by the second, then pull the door open slowly.

  He doesn’t move to me when the door is fully open, and he doesn’t touch me at all, let alone speak. I stand at the door, then take a step back, letting him decide for himself if he wants to come inside. Then the smell assaults my senses, he smells like blood. It’s a coppery, metallic smell and is hard to mistake.