Defiance (Smirnov Bratva Book 3)

by T. L Smith

  “Fuck! She did that?” Anton questions piping up behind us.

  “Contractions,” is all he replies. “Pollie wanted me to apologize for ruining your wedding day. But I don’t give a fuck. You didn’t even want to be there.”

  I look behind him to see Freya at the door, she closes it softly with a click and disappears back in before I can say anything. I shake my head, it’s not like I can go in there and tell her he’s lying in some lame attempt to soften her feelings. I don’t even know what to do in this situation, I’m clueless. There’s no guide titled ‘Marriage for Dummies—to a woman you are forced to marry.’ Well, none that I’m aware of.

  “No there isn’t a book for it,” Anton says shaking his head watching me.

  Sometimes I wonder how that fucker can read me so well, but I guess I do the same for him as well.

  Chapter 4

  Freya

  She’s in so much pain. I had to pull my hand away from her and that was a huge mistake, she has claws. I don’t know what to do or how to help her. The nurse checks her again after the contraction has passed. I step out to tell Death and hear the end of a conversation that wasn’t meant for my ears about our wedding, so I shut the door quietly again.

  I wonder if I can convince my father that it won’t work.

  Would he let me leave him?

  I doubt it very much, but I will try.

  “You can start pushing,” the nurse tells Pollie.

  I freak out and open the door again.

  “Pushing,” I yell.

  Death shoves his way past me and straight back into the room. I don’t think I’m up to watch her push out a baby, so I walk out to where everyone is sitting. Anton looks busy with his phone and Viktor is watching me.

  “Sit,” he tells me indicating the free seat next to him. I take a step and stop, then decide there’s no harm in sitting because I have been standing for most of the day. “Do you plan to talk to me?” His voice is low and directed at me.

  I don’t turn to look at him when I answer, “No,” I say crossing my arms.

  “We are married,” he states to me emphasizing each word.

  “Hopefully not for too long,” I huff.

  “What does that mean, Freya? Tell me what that means?” He is now in my direct line of sight because he’s turned his body so I have to see him. His eyes are green, a very light green and they bore into me. His look is determined, he wants answers from me and will do anything to get them.

  “I’m going to try to speak with my father. This was wrong, very wrong. Everything about this is wrong.”

  “Why is it wrong, Freya?”

  “You didn’t even want to be married, let alone to me.”

  “You’re not asking him anything of the kind,” he says standing and walking off.

  Slouching back in my chair with a huff, I hear the chair creak next to mine, so I turn to see Anton sitting down and he’s smiling at me.

  “Oh God, what do you want?”

  “I can tell you like him… a lot.”

  My mouth attempts to open but he places his finger on my lips first.

  “I can also tell he feels the same. So maybe just don’t piss him off. Okay?”

  Was that a serious conversation I just had with Anton?

  He never speaks seriously, it’s always a joke.

  “Are you punking me?” I whisper to him.

  “No, but I think you need to give up that v card you’re holding onto so tightly and let your wild side fly.” He blatantly looks down between my legs then back up. I slap him across the face, my hand stings and he laughs.

  “You’re going to be a fun time in bed… I tried to tell him, you know,” he states standing and walking off before I can hit him again.

  I stay where I’m seated by myself and try to empty my mind of thoughts. Kazier and Elina went for a walk a while ago probably to find a closet to fuck in. They can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s a bit sickening sometimes watching them.

  It feels like ages that I sit here, and I have no phone to even play with when Death opens the door with a smile. My body freezes, he’s looking at me and smiling. I kind of feel like I need to run, far, far away. That man never smiles, ever. And right now, it’s directed at me.

  “It’s a boy,” he says then waves his hand for me to come in, in an excited fashion. I wait for him to walk away before I stand up and walk in, just in case he’s planning to kill me. When I open the door, I see Pollie with her son cradled to her chest, and she’s running her hand over her baby’s face. Her smile is just as big as Death’s.

  “He’s beautiful… describe him to me,” Pollie says to Death.

  He leans up and kisses her softly on the mouth, breathing her in, then pulling back. “He has your nose… that cute button nose. His eyes are blue… his hair is dark brown just like mine. He’s absolutely perfect, Polls, so fucking perfect.”

  I stay where I am at the door, listening to the side of a man that no one thought was possible to function with other people. He is, after all, Death—his job is death, he is death. Yet, here he sits looking at Pollie and their baby as if they’re the night sky, and the beauty of it is quietly stunning and not lost on me. I wait for them to stop speaking before I step closer to them, closer to Pollie so I can see the baby. He’s on her bare chest, wrapped in a swaddling blanket over the top of them.

  “Do you want to hold him?” Pollie asks turning to me.

  Looking to Death I expect him to tell me no, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s too fixated on watching both of them. “I can wait,” I reply.

  She lifts him up, wrapping the blanket around him a little more and hands him to me. I step closer so I can reach him easily. He’s so tiny, so little. He fits in my arms perfectly, and instantly I’m in love with him. I don’t understand why I’ve never been around babies before. I was the baby of the family. He just seems so perfect, so unbelievably pure, I find it hard to comprehend. I don’t know if that’s because he’s Pollie’s or there’s some other reason.

  I put my finger in his hand and giggle as he closes his tiny little hand around it and squeezes. When I look up I see Death staring—not at me at his son.

  “He is everything,” I say looking back down at him.

  The door opens and when I turn to see who it is, I notice it’s all of them stepping into the room. Anton has his phone out and is snapping pictures, not of the baby, though, which I find very odd.

  But then again, he is one peculiar individual.

  Instead, he’s shooting more photographs of Death. I turn to look at Viktor and his eyes are on me then the baby, he keeps on looking at us both like he’s trying to work something out. Kazier bumps him slightly, and Viktor turns to him and whispers in his ear. Kazier tries to reassure me with a small smile as he listens. Just as I turn back the baby is being lifted from my arms and into Death’s. He walks him back to Pollie, whose arms are open and eager to hold her son again.

  “You did so good, Pollie,” Elina says walking over and kissing her forehead.

  “She could rival all you fuckers,” Death says pinning Anton with a glare as he continues to take photos. “Why the fuck are you taking pictures of me?” he snaps at him.

  Before Anton can come back with a smart-ass comeback, Viktor knocks the phone from his hand smashing it to the ground. I hear the crack and wince because breaking your phone sucks.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “Watch your fucking language,” Death snaps.

  All our eyes widen and we smirk—I don’t think he realizes he’s swearing as well.

  “Do you need anything? I was going to go and change, so if you need anything I could bring something back,” I ask them, looking down at my beautiful gown I’m still wearing. It really is the prettiest dress, I had it custom made.

  “No, you go home, come back tomorrow. It’s your wedding night,” Pollie says.

  I go to answer her to tell her no when Viktor speaks.

  “Yes, we have plenty
of things to discuss.” He grabs my hand and holds it tight as he pulls me out the door. I don’t dare speak, today has been way too tiring for that. So, I just let him pull me along. He hails a cab, opens the door for me and lets me climb in. I drop my head back and know I’m about to pass out, my eyes won’t stay open any longer.

  ***

  Hands wrap around me as I am being lifted, the movement jolting me. When I open my eyes, I see Viktor trying to open a door. I attempt to wiggle out of his hold to put me down, but he doesn’t take any notice. Then I do it again, determined to get down.

  “You need to stop shaking your ass near my cock.”

  Straight away I freeze, he manages to unlock a door and flicks on a light switch when we enter.

  “Whose house is this?” I ask looking around still in his arms.

  “Ours.”

  “How?”

  “I bought it.”

  “Is that why it’s empty?” I ask looking around at the stained wooden floors that have not a lick of furniture touching them. He walks me to a door and pushes it open, a king size bed sits there by itself in the center. It’s covered in blue and has two pillows. Literally nothing else. “Whose room is this?”

  “Ours,” is all he says. He places me on the bed.

  “We aren’t sleeping in the same bed!”

  “Like fuck we aren’t, I am not sleeping on the floor in our house.” He pulls his jacket off leaving him in a white long sleeved button up shirt. Passing me a bag I didn’t see, I notice it’s mine, the one I’d packed for the hotel.

  How the hell did it get here?

  He starts to unbutton his shirt, his naked chest comes into view. Beautiful colored ink stands out on his chest like a stunning piece of artwork hanging on a wall. His tattoos are unlike his friends, theirs are all dark ink etched into their skin.

  He goes for his pants next and I look down, afraid to stare. Sneaking a small look, I see his ass as he walks over to a door in the room. And when he opens the door I notice it’s the bathroom. The shower starts and I hear the water tinkling on the surface of the floor. Quickly, I pull open my bag, grabbing fresh panties and a pair of pajamas to sleep in.

  While standing, I try to undo my dress, but I can’t. It’s laced up my back and you have to pull each eyelet free of the ribbon to be able to get it off.

  Shit! I think about pulling it hard hoping it will snap, then shake my head at my stupid thoughts. This dress cost me… well, my father, a shit load of money. Turning around, I notice a mirror hidden in the walk-in closet and try to face my back to it while turning my head to see if I can do it myself. After a few attempts, I manage to get one ribbon through the eyelets pulled free. Not being able to reach the rest, I sigh. A hand comes to rest on my shoulder, I squeak out loud and feel his fingers pulling on each ribbon. He’s undressing me.

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I tell him. As I look up to the mirror, I see his eyes trained on my back working each piece of ribbon perfectly.

  “You can have the floor then,” is all he says as he continues to work on it.

  “No, I didn’t mean…” My eyes shoot down, I shut up and stop that conversation dead in its tracks. When I look back up he’s now watching me. He removes his hands and the dress drops away from my body.

  I wouldn’t say my body is that of a woman. Sometimes I think I have a small body that’s underdeveloped. My frame is tiny, my breasts don’t seem to want to grow. Except, the way he’s staring at me makes me think it isn’t as bad as I think it is.

  “Turn around,” I manage to squeak out.

  He looks me over one more time before he turns and walks to the bed. Reaching across for my pajamas, I quickly rush putting them on. Because I’m not sleeping on the floor I walk closer to the bed, and I hear a slight snore coming from Viktor’s mouth.

  Shit, that was fast. He’s asleep already.

  Pulling the pillow over my face, I hug it turning away from him. I try to sleep, I really do, except he’s naked and positioned right next to me.

  What if that thing pokes me when I’m sleeping?

  Chapter 5

  Viktor

  Freya’s lying in the middle of the bed when I wake, literally in the middle. Somehow she’s scooted down and wedged herself on my legs and is asleep with no pillow. She’s just there with her mouth open and legs spread off the bed. She’s like a ninja, one I didn’t even feel move, and I’m a light sleeper.

  Standing beside the bed while looking down at her, she’s spread out like she instantly knows there’s more room. Her arms fan out on either side of her body and the shirt she’s wearing slides up, showing me a peek of her beautiful flawless skin. Immediately I look down and see my cock is standing tall—I could blame it on the morning woody, but it’s not, it’s purely from her sleeping right next to me. The smell of her, the feel of her. Shaking my head and sighing, I stride to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Freya walks in and while rubbing her eyes she’s pulling the clothes from her body, not noticing I’m standing right there watching her. Her shirt comes off then her pants, next is her white silk panties that drop to the floor, then she reaches in and turns on the shower.

  I cough loudly and she jumps, screams, and turns to look at me.

  “What the fuck!” She tries to reach for the shower curtain to cover her, but her fingers don’t grasp anything because there’s nothing there. She drops picking up her shirt and covering her chest with it, but still leaving me with a very good view. Then her angry eyes start to roam me, I’m still naked standing right in front of her. “Get dressed,” she squeaks.

  I look down, I’m hard again.

  She is naked after all, and in front of me.

  “Why don’t we shower together?” I take a step closer, making her back all the way up to the shower. She’s almost in the shower now, and I want to push her in, pull that shirt away from her body and hold her up against the shower wall, with my hands wrapped around her throat while she feels me inside her.

  Then her eyes look down again.

  I forgot, she isn’t ready for me.

  I would hurt her more than she could handle, so I take a step back giving her some space, and then turn and walk out of the room. A loud bang comes at the door. So I grab my pants, pulling them up at the same time I hear her start the shower and the door shut. I want to go back in there, but I know I can’t. So instead, I walk to the front door, through the house with no furniture. When I pull it open, Kazier and Anton are standing there waiting.

  “Where is she?” Kazier steps in and looks around. “Shower?” he guesses.

  I nod my head a single time in answer.

  “Good, we have to go.” He doesn’t say anymore as he walks back to the door.

  Anton moves from the doorway to let him pass and looks at me when he speaks, “You fuck her yet?”

  I slam the door in his face then head back to the bedroom to grab a shirt. She still hasn’t come out, so I don’t bother telling her where I’m going. Riffling through my bag, I grab my knife and leave.

  ***

  We come to a stop at an old house. The paint is in patches on the weatherboard, withered away from the years of exposure and the railings around the house are loose and broken. It looks like it’s abandoned until the door opens and Freya’s brother steps out. He looks straight at the car then at me.

  I turn to Kazier with a questioning glare and he’s looking at me. “He asked us to come,” he says stepping out.

  I look back to Anton, who’s carefully observing Freya’s brother.

  “I don’t like him, he’s too pretty,” he states with a look of disgust as he gets out of the car and I follow close behind him.

  Kazier is the first to greet him, then his eyes skip from Anton to me. “My sister?” he asks.

  “At home.”

  He nods his head then pulls open the old door, it squeaks like it needs a gallon of oil.

  That thing needs to be lubricated, or maybe it should be burned to the ground, I thi
nk.

  When we enter the smell hits me straight away—bodies… dead, decomposing bodies. I look around for Death, surely he’s needed here not us. But all I see is three men on the ground, their throats cut, and pools of blood all around them.

  “Why are we here?” I ask first. This is not how I expected today to go, anything is better than this.

  Patrick looks at me, his head slightly drops to the side. “You’re here because I want you to be.”

  “You aren’t the boss of me!” I take a step closer, but so does he.

  “I can be…” Another step closer and I do the same. I feel it before I see it, a knife right on a major artery in my leg. He thinks he’s smooth, quick. He isn’t, and I show him that with a smirk.

  “Oh shit,” I hear Anton mutter behind me. He sees it, he always does—he knows what I’m going to do before I do it sometimes. He attempts to jump back, I apply pressure and his eyes go wide. “I wouldn’t move again if you want to keep your ding-a-ling,” Anton says laughing. Patrick looks at him and sneers. The knife is right on his groin, even if he manages to cut me, I can guarantee I would at least cut something off before he finishes his slice.

  “Drop your knife,” he says looking me in the eyes.

  “Drop yours,” I say back to him. He looks down to where both our knives are and shakes his head. His knife falls first. “On the floor…” His fists unclench and it drops to the floor with a small thud. I don’t drop mine. Instead, I pocket it again while taking a step back.

  “You know these streets, right?” Patrick asks all of us, picking up his knife and placing it in his jacket. He’s dressed like he’s heading to another wedding.

  What the hell is with his weird-ass dress sense?

  “We do, we own these streets.”

  “Good, I need one of my men back.”

  “He was taken?” Kazier asks.

  “Yes.”

  Kazier’s fists close and open, he doesn’t believe him. “Who took him?”

  “Your smugglers,” he answers.

  I turn to look back at Anton to see his eyebrows raised as he watches Patrick. He doesn’t believe him either.