Disbelief (Smirnov Bratva Book 2)

by T. L Smith

  “You know what you did,” he says. I don’t give him an answer. He sighs when nothing leaves my mouth. “Elina told me why. She even bargained with me to spare you.”

  Anton laughs from behind him. As soon as I look up at him, Anton shuts up, and his eyes become hard again.

  “It wasn’t an order from me, Death. I did not give you permission.”

  “You cracked my fucking head, you dick head,” Anton chimes in his hand lifting to the back of his skull.

  “You’re alive,” is all I give him. I didn’t kill them. That will count for something.

  “You put the woman in danger,” Viktor says finally speaking.

  I shake my head at the thought of those two idiots. “They put themselves in danger,” I retort back to him.

  He shakes his head at me. “There’s no easy way to say this,” Kazier states standing, he takes a step back, and Anton and Viktor step forward. Both their hands clenched and ready for a fight. I stand knowing what’s about to happen, Viktor walks behind me, Anton stops in front of me with a smile on his face.

  “This may hurt,” he says.

  Then I watch in slow motion as his fist comes up and connects with my face. I stumble backward into another blow which is delivered into the back of my ribs. I stand tall, Anton laughs in my face, then his fists start on my body, bruising and punishing it until I start to bend over. Viktor kicks my legs out from under me, dropping me to the floor, then kicks me in the ribs repeatedly.

  Kazier’s voice breaks through. “Enough.”

  “He knocked us out,” Anton complains.

  I don’t hear what’s said next. I don’t see it either. Next thing I know, everything goes black.

  ****

  I wake to an aching body, the sky dark. I groan and turn to my back feeling the sharp pains and bruising already crippling my body. I try to sit up and think better of it. I may lay here just a bit longer because they sure as shit made me tender as fuck. I was surprised they didn’t kill me. Elina’s talk must have worked.

  “You look like shit.” I turn my head to Anton sitting on my sofa with a bowl of ice cream in his lap. He takes a scoop and licks the spoon clean as he watches me. I sit up even through the agony trying not to wince and failing miserably. He laughs at me.

  “Why are you still fucking here?” I grumble.

  He shrugs his shoulders and turns the volume up on the television.

  “Seriously… leave.”

  His eyes move from the television then down to me. “Needed to make sure you were still breathing,” he scoffs taking another spoon of ice cream and then laughs at the television.

  “I’m breathing… leave now!”

  “Have you seen this shit? Women go crazy over it. Seriously, Magic Mike my ass. Try some magic Anton bitches.”

  My head drops down—is he actually watching this shit? Then the music comes on, and I know for sure that he’s seriously watching crap. He scoffs at the television again.

  “God, I’d lift that little bitch over my head. Where is the muscle, in his ass?”

  “Anton…”

  “Oh, come on, all he’s doing is rubbing his cock in your face. I got some co—”

  “Anton!” I yell louder, he looks down at me with his eyebrows raised.

  “Go home.”

  “Can’t, the sister is home. She drives me up the fucking wall. Kazier is fucking Elina, and Viktor is trying to not fall in love with Freya. You’re my best bet tonight. Now go back to sleep.” He waves his hand across effectively dismissing me. I stand and walk away from him, not being able to deal with his raggedy ass tonight.

  As soon as I step into my room, her smell assaults my senses. Everywhere. She’s everywhere. I groan and lay on my bed moving straight to the pillow she sleeps on. Just as I get comfortable, Anton flings my door open.

  “Boss called. That man has the Doe.” He nods his head out the door.

  I close my eyes and think about reaching for the gun next to my bed, maybe if I shot him in his neck he wouldn’t die but pass out. Nope, he would die. Fuck.

  I make it slowly to the front of the house. Anton is in his car and honking the horn for me to get in—he’s such an annoying prick. As soon as I climb in, he starts driving before I’ve even closed the damn door. I have to close my eyes at the break-neck speed he takes. Every bump in the road, we bounce high, every pot hole, we drop. And he doesn’t care—At. Fucking. All. He actually blasts the music through his car, taps his hands on the wheel and sings very badly. Finally, we come to a stop at the same house we were at last time, where Viktor placed a knife through the man’s eye.

  Chapter 27

  Pollie

  I wake in a sweat, then I hear it, the knocking. Hearing my name called, I know it’s him, I know he’s back. I didn’t think he’d give me much time or space, I just suspected it would be for at least one night. The knocking continues uninterrupted and constant. I walk out the cold floor beneath my feet. My hand goes to the door, his voice comes through, vibrating through my hand. I don’t say a word as he speaks my name again.

  “Pollie, I need… to touch you.”

  This wasn’t the plan. I live by my plans. I needed some consistency back in my life, it went out the window the minute I met him.

  “Time Dmitry,” I whisper knowing he’ll hear me.

  “I can’t do that. I just can’t.” He sounds so broken.

  I open the door, and he almost falls on top of me. I reach out to touch him to stop him falling, and he hisses when I come into contact with his side.

  “What happened?”

  His hand reaches out and runs down my face, skimming it with his fingers. “I saved you, so it’s my punishment.”

  Shock races through me. “What do you mean?” I grab his hand and pull him inside, he shuts the door with a quiet click as he follows me in.

  “I knocked out Anton and Viktor. I had to be punished. It’s part of who we are.”

  “Why?” I don’t understand what he’s talking about.

  “They had Sebastian, and I needed him to get to you.”

  I nod my head, then my heart starts beating wildly, I’ve been so thoughtless, so stupid. He puts me first, and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

  “Tell me about your work?”

  He doesn’t say much, so I rest my hand on his, squeezing it.

  “If any of this is work, I need to understand. Right now, I don’t understand it.”

  “You won’t want me when I tell you.” That voice is so much weaker. Not his strong, usually confident voice. It breaks me more.

  “Don’t you think I should decide that?”

  “I relish in what I do, it’s what I know. All that’s ever been a constant in my life. I can’t… won’t… give it up, Pollie.”

  “I’m not asking you, too. I just need to know.”

  “What did he tell you? Sebastian… my father?”

  My head drops and a shiver breaks through over my body. “I don’t want their memories, I want the ones you can, and will, give me.”

  I hear him huff a breath. “How did I ever find you?” he whispers.

  “You didn’t, I found you,” I whisper back.

  “When I have bodies… vessels… I relish in it. I absolutely crave it, Pollie. It’s my escape. It’s like my own beautiful dark art.”

  “Do you drain them?” I ask, remembering the hooks. The words are stuck in the back of my mind—very disturbing images still reside there.

  “Yes. Every cut I make on them has to be perfect. I can’t have blood messing it up. So draining is what I have to do to make sure they are perfect.”

  “Keep going…”

  “I work in red. It’s fitting really, the red. It’s significant in a way in that with each cut all the blood should be pouring out, but it isn’t. So red helps me relax. Then I start the cutting, the music takes over, and my hands have a mind of their own. Each cut is clean, perfect, and precise in its delivery. Straight down to the bone.”

&nb
sp; “How long have you been doing this for?”

  His hand clenches mine. “Too long. Sebastian introduced me. He was what I am to the family, but he preferred to burn them. I thought it was careless, it leaves ashes behind. What I do… it leaves nothing.”

  “Acid.” I cringe, an internal shiver taking over my body.

  “Why did you come here? Why did you warn me to not open the door when you come at night?”

  “I miss the blood. You have it.”

  My hand pulls from his. That didn’t sound good. Actually, that’s the one thing out of all his words that has scared me the most.

  “Blood play?” It leaves my lips quickly. Sebastian’s words are now playing over in my mind.

  “Yes, I wanted to do it to you.”

  “That’s why you left?” He doesn’t speak. “You can control yourself around me, Dmitry. Why?”

  He laughs dryly. “I don’t know. I don’t even think I want to know.”

  “I want you to take me there.”

  “Where?”

  “To your room. It’s in your basement, isn’t it?” I can feel his stare hitting me hard.

  “I don’t want you down there.”

  That kind of hurts. I get up and walk away, he doesn’t move. When I come back my violin is in my hands. I sit down and feel his stare penetrating me.

  “Don’t cut my throat,” I joke with him, but he doesn’t respond. I feel him tense near me. “Violin… the name comes from a Medieval Latin word Vitula, it means stringed instrument…” when he doesn’t speak I stroke the G-string, “…the hairs on mine are horse hair.” I place the bow to all the strings. “When the violin was invented, did you know it was made of sheep gut?” I press the bow to the strings playing a cord, then stopping. “Niccolo Paganini is the best violinist to ever live. They say he sold his soul to the devil to be able to play so well.” I start to play Stubborn Love by the Lumineers.

  He doesn’t move as I play, I didn’t expect him to, and soon I forget he’s even there. Soon the melody takes over, and the only thing that draws me from it is his hand touching my leg. It pulls me from the music, and I set the bow down, breathing heavily.

  “You just came into my world, I want to go to yours.”

  “Mine isn’t as beautiful as yours.”

  I press my hand to his face. “It is, you’re beautiful.”

  His lips press to mine, just a soft kiss. I feel him nod his head on mine. “Sleep now,” he says standing and picking me up under my legs. He carries me to my room, placing me on the bed and climbing in next to me. I turn, and he pulls me into him, wrapping me in his arms and holding my hand tightly.

  As if I would ever let it go.

  Chapter 28

  Death aka Dmitry

  Her sleeping form is so innocent, each time she moves in her sleep, it pains me. The bruises covering my body have only grown more sensitive. She lies near me, her hand still in mine, her ass stuck to my cock. I couldn’t even give her the time she wanted away from me. How will I be able to survive without her once she enters that room and realizes how fucked I am, and how perfect she is. Maybe I can lie to her. Take her somewhere else in the house, tell her that’s where I work, but I don’t want to lie to her. I don’t want to lie to her about anything.

  She rolls over, and when she does her elbow hits my ribs. I groan, and she sits up. Her hands pull up my shirt, and her soft fingers skim my chest. She runs over it slowly, gently touching the bruising that’s formed. Then she goes to my face, her thumb pads over my bottom lip.

  “Thank you for protecting me,” she whispers kissing my bottom lip then standing. She walks out and I hear her open and close the fridge. She comes back with an ice pack in her hand and places it on my smarting ribs. Holding it down with one hand as she lays back down. “I don’t have to work this weekend,” she says her leg coming up between mine.

  “So you’re mine all weekend?” I ask, and she nods her head, her long eyelashes fan across her cheek.

  “So, take me to yours,” she says standing. I sit up and watch her as she pulls up a pair of jeans over her ass. Then she throws the shirt that she sleeps in to the ground, pulling on another, with no bra.

  Off to mine we go, I guess.

  ****

  When the door closes behind us, she tucks her hands into the back of her pants. She stands there and waits for me to take her where she wants to go. I grab her hand, and walk to the door, pressing my hand to the reading device for it to open, then we walk down the stairs.

  One body remains. I haven’t had the chance to dispose of it yet. Her hand lingers on the wall as we reach the bottom.

  “The smell,” she says, not questioning just pointing it out.

  “I have exhaust fans,” I say, then flick them on. The exhaust fans have been fitted with special devices to remove the offensive smell before they expel the putrid odor into the air above my house.

  “Is there anywhere I can sit?” she asks not moving.

  I grab her hand and take her to my stool, pushing it away from the body and over near the stairs where she stands for her to sit on.

  “Okay, do what you do. Don’t mind me.”

  I almost want to laugh at that. I refrain and step back from her trying not to think about her being here as I start my routine. I turn the music on which is usually programmed to activate anyway, but this time I pre-empted and flicked the switch to off upon entering. The heavy metal blasts through the basement and she covers her ears at first, then slowly removes them. I always forget her other senses are more heightened. Then I pull the body from the hook, carrying it to the table. When I drop it on, she looks up, she heard the sound. I pick up the saw, looking at her. She doesn’t look afraid, she just sits there trying to hear everything I’m doing. I can only imagine what she’s thinking—crazed.

  I glance away, I can’t look at her when I start to cut. The saw slices beautifully through the skin, the first bone crunches under the edge of the saw, then deeper, and deeper, until sweat starts to form on my forehead. My ribs hurt, the pressure I need to use to cut through is extracted from all of my body. And when you saw, you feel every inch of it.

  Then the adrenaline takes over, and numbs the pain. Before I know it, I have two arms removed. I only stop briefly because a hand touches my hip.

  I turn to see Pollie there, she leans up and whispers in my ear, “Keep going.” I look back to the body, then to her. She’s now facing downward, her hands are on my pants. She undoes the first button, then pulls the zipper down and gets to her knees. Pulling my pants down as she does. Her hand wraps around my cock. She strokes it softly, then her mouth covers it, and she licks the tip, massaging my balls with her free hand. Then in one swift movement, almost all of me is in her mouth and down her throat. My hands clench the saw tight, it presses downward straight through the bones. With each thrust the saw moves as well. Each lick of her tongue, my hips and saw buck. I close my eyes as she swirls her tongue around. Letting go of the saw, and pulling her upward, she kicks her pants off, dropping them to the ground. I lift her and place her ass on the table.

  “Don’t move backward, don’t shift your hands,” I tell her, because if she does, all she will feel will be the coldness of the body, which is only inches from her bare ass. She moans as I pull her closer, my cock at the tip of her pussy. I pull her forward, her hands go backward to hold herself up, but I stop them just in time and pull them back to me.

  Then I slam into her, her head flies back, and she moans loudly in my ear. Screaming my name.

  “Tell me about it,” she moans in my ear. “Tell me about your blood play,” she says.

  I continue to push into her, wondering if I ever really liked it. Because with her, I don’t need it, all I need is her. “Just as my cock enters you…” I emphasize with a slam, and she screams, “…I cut you…” my finger runs along her back pretending to slice with my finger, “...not deep enough to need stitches, just enough so I can lick it.”

  She shivers and I know she�
��s close. I’m right there with her.

  “Do you want to cut me?” she asks leaning over and biting my shoulder, her teeth digging in and puncturing the skin. She licks it, then kisses me, giving me a taste myself on her.

  “Never. This skin…” I say slapping her ass, “…is never to be marked. It’s too perfect. If anyone mars your flawless skin, I’ll cut the skin from their bones.”

  She collapses into me when she finally comes. I fuck her harder, then she lays her head on my shoulder, breathing me in.

  “Well shit! Who needs to buy porn when you two are here?” Anton’s voice booms from the top of the stairs, he’s looking down at us smiling. I pull Pollie’s shirt down, covering her ass and grab the closest thing I can and throw it at him. He ducks the saw that was aimed at his head and turns and walks back up the stairs.

  “Did he just see us?” I brush her hair from her face. “With the body…” Her head turns to where the body is, but she doesn’t say anything else.

  “No, he just came down,” I say easing her when really I have no idea when he arrived. She relaxes and I pull her from the table, grabbing her jeans and dressing her. She smirks at me when I do it. Her lashes fluttering over her eyes. I grab her hand once we are both dressed and pull her up the stairs.

  When we reach the top it’s not just Anton, it’s all of them. In my fucking house. Like it’s some episode of Friends. Fucking hell. Whatever happened to leaving me alone? Freya and Viktor are close together as they stand near the door. Anton stands near Kazier and Elina, who are smirking at us.

  “They're all smiling at us aren’t they?” Pollie whispers to me. I don’t tell her only some are, I just tell her no.

  “Why the fuck are you all here?”

  Kazier steps forward. “The Italian scums have declared war,” Kazier says.

  Elina scoffs at him. “I’m Italian, you asshole.” She hits him in the chest, and he winces.

  “Yeah, but you have a Russian in you all the time,” he jokes with her. She immediately follows that with a kiss.

  “Pollie won’t be safe. No one will be safe. I’ve come into possession of a house, it’s large. Get your shit, you’re both coming with us.”