Defiance (Smirnov Bratva Book 3)

by T. L Smith

  He smiles as he presses call on his phone, I step over the bodies and go to the back room of the house. It’s locked, but I kick it in snapping the lock off. Inside is tarps, bleach, knives, guns—his own cleaning area. It’s always been here. I remember sneaking in this room when we were younger to play with everything. Anton walks in smiling, his hands go to the knives hanging up on the wall, and he runs his fingers over them.

  “You know you’re going to have to catch her before she goes after someone else, right?” he tells me as he picks up a bottle of bleach. I grab a tarp knowing Death will need it as he’s coming straight from Kazier’s.

  “He can’t kill her, he didn’t kill Elina.”

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Of course he can kill her, and he will if you don’t get to her first.”

  The door opens and shuts. Death is here. We walk out to see him smiling as he looks down at Kazier’s father on the ground. Blood surrounds the wound in his head.

  “I like her more now,” he says leaning down and turning the body to the side. He nods to me with the tarp in hand, and I place it under his body then he lets the body go rolling it onto the tarp. He does the same with the step-mother, rolling her up in a black tarp.

  We step toward the door as he grabs the bleach from Anton’s hands and spreads it all over the floor.

  “Do you think she has much control over him?” Anton asks. “Elina,” he clarifies.

  “To an extent, yes.”

  “Do you think her words can possibly save Freya from what he will do?”

  I shake my head. “No, let’s fucking hope we can.”

  “That isn’t their blood,” Death says pointing to patches of blood near the door.

  “How would you know that? You the fucking blood whisperer now?” Anton asks.

  Death shakes his head at him. “Look here, fuckhead, their bodies weren’t over there. They were shot where they are, not moved until we came. So their blood can’t magically jump to another spot, cocksucker. So whose fucking blood is this?”

  I look down at it and wish right then I was a fucking blood whisperer because I would really like to know whose blood it is and if it’s hers. Death lifts one body, I grab the other. Anton is still wounded, so he just follows us out with a slight limp in his leg from the bullet wound Freya inflicted on him.

  “Follow me,” Death says climbing into his car.

  “No fucking way. I hate your fucked-up dungeon… so not going there.”

  He shakes his head. “It ain’t gonna bite you.”

  “Yeah, but you might fucking bite.” Death shakes his head at Anton, I think they have a love-hate relationship, it’s quite funny watching them bickering back and forth.

  ***

  We’re in his basement, or as Anton likes to call it, Death’s dungeon. Anton is standing the furthest away, a mask on his face, his forehead scrunched as he watches Death. He hangs up the step-mother, then starts cutting into all her major arteries. A sheet is laid down with buckets under the body to catch all the blood that drops. He shakes his head at him as he does the same with Kazier’s father.

  “Who’d have thought the old man would be in your motherfucking basement,” Anton says under his mask.

  I press call on my phone again hoping she picks up. It rings and rings and goes straight to Freya’s voicemail.

  “This is me, leave a message if you need me, if not… text me.” Then it beeps. I hang up, not wanting to leave a message, I just need to know where she is. Kazier texts me the number that she called from earlier, so I ring that. It rings a few times before it’s picked up. But no one speaks, doesn’t say a word.

  “Freya,” I say in hopes she hears my voice and answers. I hear breathing but nothing else. I hang up and call the last person I wanted to, her brother.

  “Viktor,” he says into the phone. “Caught my man for me?”

  Shit, I forgot about that. I wonder if Kazier has as well.

  “Do you have her?” I ask him.

  Kazier said once in passing that their relationship was close.

  “I do have her. Was that a concern for you… husband?” he mocks as he says the last word.

  “She killed someone,” I say.

  I remember the first time she saw her cousins dead the night we were attacked, it shook her.

  “I know, she made me very proud.”

  I scoff at him and he goes silent on the phone. “Where is she?”

  “Now why would I tell you that? Do you care, Viktor? Do you suddenly care what happens to her? Or is it part of your ploy to give her to your boss? Because I know you would do anything he asks you to do. Don’t even deny it.”

  “He doesn’t want her.”

  He laughs into the phone. “She killed his father. You’re very mistaken if you think he doesn’t want her. He wants her all right, and not in a friendly way. He wants her ten feet under just the way she took his father.”

  “He doesn’t,” I argue with him. My argument is weak, though, because he could want her, then what?

  I wouldn’t stop him, would I?

  “Show me you’re telling me the truth. Come to me now. No one else, just you.”

  I’m pacing now, back and forth. “Send me the address.” I hang up the phone, both Death and Anton are watching me. I turn and run for the stairs. I can hear his footsteps coming after me, I know he’ll follow. Just as I take the last step, I turn fast before he can reach it. He looks at me and stops, he knows what I’m about to do.

  “You motherfucker…” he curses at me as I shut the door effectively locking him in there with Death. Death won’t care, he’s busy, he’ll be there for hours. I turn and stop my palms going against the banging door, Pollie is standing in front of me her hand on the wall.

  “You locked it?” she asks quietly. She knows what I’ve done. “I let him have this entrance back, and I hope I don’t regret that, so tell me why you locked it.”

  “I did.”

  “Tell me why?”

  “Because I must go after her and he will follow.”

  Her head drops. “Death will be down there for at least another hour. Will that give you enough time?” she asks.

  I smile at her even though she can’t see it, but I hope she can feel it. “Yes.”

  She nods her head and walks away letting me leave with Anton banging on the door. I hear the thump as Death turns up his music, sounding out Anton’s curses as he bangs on the door.

  I wonder if they are going to bond and smirk just thinking about that. He’ll get me back for this if she doesn’t kill me first.

  Chapter 16

  Freya

  I wake in Grekh’s arms, his body is moving and the moon is high. I feel his body move up and down and realize it’s stairs that he’s carrying me up. I turn my head, it stings when I do so. Hands touch my forehead, cold hands. I know those hands, they’re my brothers. He leans over so I can see him, then leans down and kisses my forehead. Grekh is moving me again, through the house and lays me on a bed. He doesn’t say anything, I didn’t expect he would. He walks out just as Patrick comes in. Patrick sits next to me, dressed in his usual attire.

  “Bit of shock for your body, baby sister.”

  I touch my neck and feel a bandage wrapped around it.

  “Sin isn’t that bad, he comes in handy when needed,” he says looking to the door then back to me. His eyes are the same color as mine and show concern, something I haven’t seen in a long time. “You killed him. That took some balls, little sis, to kill a man so powerful. What’s changed you so much? Is it that the man you were falling for broke your heart?”

  “Who said I was falling for him?”

  “I see it in your eyes, you care for him. But you also hate him. Which one will win, though?” He leans in so close as he looks at me like he can pull the answer from me. He can’t because I don’t even know the truth. “He’s almost here. How are you feeling now?”

  “Like shit,” I tell him the truth. “Where’s father?”

&nb
sp; His eyes don’t leave me as he answers. “Exactly where Kazier’s is,” he replies standing. He walks to the closet, pulls out clothes then places them next to the bed. “Shower, freshen up, we have company to attend to.” He walks out, Grekh’s shutting the door as he goes.

  Everyone calls Grekh, Sin. I don’t because that’s not his birth name. For as long as I have known him it’s been Grekh, and I couldn’t imagine calling him anything else.

  I feel better when I stand, not as dizzy as I was before. Quickly running the shower and ridding myself of the smells from today—mainly the man who wouldn’t stop hurting my leg—I look down and see my thigh is bruised with fingerprints all over it. I scrub at it, wanting the memory of him gone from me, so I rub so hard that my leg goes red. I quickly get changed and make my way out to the voices. Patrick’s speaking to a few of his underdogs as I like to call them—or his followers, whichever suits them best—when I make my way downstairs.

  “He’s here,” a man says.

  Grekh walks up to me, a bandage in hand. He pushes my blonde hair back from my neck, removes the one that’s wet—his fingers are light and soft when he does and it’s so unlike him. He replaces it quickly pushing it down around the area to make it stick. He takes a step back and my hair falls down around my neck. His eyes go to the door, and when I turn Viktor is standing there by himself, staring at me with his eyes hard. I turn to my left, a vase is there, my hands reach for it without thinking. I aim it straight for his head, he ducks just in time and it shatters behind him.

  “He’s our guest, Freya. Let’s talk, and after that you can do whatever it is you wish to do,” Patrick says nodding toward the sitting area. Viktor’s eyes look behind me to Grekh’s, then back to mine. He follows Patrick like the good little lackey bitch he is. I stand there not moving just watching as they disappear from sight, leaving me with Grekh.

  “Give me your gun,” I say turning to him, his lip twitches but he doesn’t smile. He walks to me, keeping his gun in his holster and grabs my hand, pulling me to the room where they’re talking. Viktor looks down to our hands, and his eyes don’t move.

  “Do you think he will agree?” Patrick asks.

  Viktor’s eyes move slowly back to him. “If she doesn’t kill anyone else.”

  Patrick looks to me now. “Do you plan to kill anyone else, little sister?”

  I remove my hand from Grekh and cross my arms over my chest. “Just two more.”

  Patrick looks back to Viktor, Viktor stands, walks to me and lifts me up.

  “Room?” he asks.

  I don’t see what Patrick does but he must point because Viktor starts moving with me over his shoulder up the stairs. The door slams shut when we enter. I hear him lock it then he places me on the bed. I look around wondering what I can use to hurt him, but I don’t see anything.

  “Who did that to you?” he asks hovering over me. He looks down at my legs, his hand barely touching my neck. I laugh at him, he can’t be concerned now, it’s too late for that.

  “You trying to play hero, are you?” I mock him.

  He steps forward, his legs press up against the bed, right next to me. He starts pulling off his shirt revealing his chest, then undoes his pants dropping them to the floor kicking off his shoes as he goes. He’s now completely naked in front of me. He uses his body as a weapon, and I seem to go speechless when he does this. Then his hand cups my breast through the thin shirt I’m wearing. I don’t tell him to stop, in fact I inch up so he can touch me more and he does. His other hand skims underneath my shirt until it reaches my bare breast, then he pulls my shirt up over my head.

  “I hate you,” I whisper as he leans down to my lips, his mouth inches from mine. His next words leave his mouth on my lips.

  “Love and hate are much the same. Let’s see if I can make you scream, little bird.” His mouth claims mine while his hands pull my pants off, skimming down my legs as his mouth owns and demand me as his. I want to pull back, I want to stab him in the eye, anything but let him claim me as his. I think that’s what he does when I give in to him, he takes pieces of me that aren’t his to take.

  “Fuck you!” I say seething at him, yet not stopping him either.

  “I plan to.” His mouth lifts and his hand cups my sex, massaging it with his fingers. He removes them then sucks two fingers into his mouth, watching me the whole time. Then replaces them back between my legs playing with my pussy, but more like playing with my fucking emotions. They seem to be the key for him to get me to obey—touch me and I’m yours they scream at him. Fucking traitors is what they are.

  I drop my back onto the bed, he kisses my breasts and I feel myself building slowly. Wanting more, needing more than his fingers can give me, more than his mouth can give me, even if I love what he’s doing. I want him to fuck me, and I don’t want him to be gentle with me either.

  “Hurry up,” I say between my teeth.

  He lifts up and gives me a smirk. Removing his fingers, he then pulls my legs apart as he steps between them, lifts them up to his waist, touches down between us and positions his cock. I can feel it poking at my entrance as he does. He stops just as it’s right there, when I look up to him he’s watching me.

  “How bad do you want it, little bird?”

  “Fuck me like I’m your hooker because it will be the last time,” I say tipping my chin up.

  He looks down at me with his eyebrows drawn in a serious stare, then his face masks over, the one he puts on for everyone. If you look closely enough though, sometimes you can see the cracks in it. Sometimes.

  He touches my clit, my back bends then he slams in me. It hurts, I scream, then he moves, rubbing circles on my clit, fucking me at the same time. He bends over, his hands leave me as they skate up my body then touch my neck.

  “A hooker?” he asks between pumps.

  I manage a nod because that’s the best I can do. He looks down at my neck, then both of his hands take hold around it. He wraps them right around, choking me as he fucks me. Using my neck as an anchor to pull me in and out, fucking me hard and fast. His hands are bruising me and very close to my cut and I sense it’s bleeding again. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, I’m not sure which. I start gasping as he chokes harder, fucking me harder, but the weird thing is I’m really fucking loving it. The thrill of it, the power of it, the pleasure of it all is taking over. I feel myself building up, my body feels like it’s about to explode and I don’t understand it or try to stop it. Then when I realize it, I come and blackout.

  Later I wake in his arms, he’s wrapped around me in the same fashion that a mother does to protect their child. I don’t want him on me though, I want him off of me. He’s naked and when I lift my head I notice that I’m bleeding again. The pillow I’m on is now soaked and stained red.

  I must have slept for quite some time, the sun is starting to rise and shine through the curtains. My sex feels sore, my body is weak but very pleasured. That’s weird, I should be crying, I should be scared. I don’t even remember going to sleep. How could I have let him do that to me? Not just the choking, but the fucking part. I guess a part of me wanted to see if it would hurt as much as it did the first time. It didn’t, but it wasn’t pleasant either at the beginning when he first stuck it in. Then the game changed, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

  I also wonder why he’s here, by himself. I thought for sure the first thing he would do after what I did, would have been to have killed me. Yet, here I am, in bed with my husband. If he is even still that, though I haven’t signed any papers to the contrary so I guess he still is.

  Managing to pull myself out from underneath him, I walk to the bathroom. There’s gauze on the sink. Did he replace mine while I slept? I remove the one that is on there now as it’s riddled with blood. There are stitches in the skin and I don’t even remember having that done. Grekh probably did it, I’ve seen him stitch a few of Patrick’s people up.

  Grabbing some clothes, I pull them on and hold a towel to my neck. Because,
despite the blood, there’s also visible hand prints just above my wound. Viktor stirs in his sleep and turns over, it makes me angry the sight of him. No, I’m beyond angry. I still want to kill them all for what they did, thinking they could sell me. I trusted them believing I was their friend, but I thought wrong.

  Power is their friend and they will do anything and everything to keep that power. Unless it’s the one they love. For example, Elina. Thinking of that situation makes me even angrier. They all accepted her and won’t harm her. So why did they think they could do that to me?

  I drop the towel from my neck into the sink. Looking around, I see a small plasma television on the stand, so I lift it up and walk over to a sleeping Viktor. He looks so peaceful as if he hadn’t just ruined my world, as if he hadn’t changed the course of my life with a few simple words. If he just would have stopped them, stuck up for me, none of this would have happened. Yet, he chose to do nothing but watch and participate in selling me, his own wife. Someone he agreed to protect with his life.

  Holding the television up high over his head, I say, “I’m sorry,” as I slam it down. I hear it crack on his head.

  Immediately after the door opens, Grekh and Patrick are both standing there. Grekh’s lips twitch and I think he may have just smiled, until Patrick talks.

  “What did you do, Freya? You can’t do that. I let you have your revenge, but no more.” He clicks his finger and Grekh walks in and picks me up removing me from the room. I don’t fight him because it would be pointless to do so, and I know he wouldn’t harm me anyway. I look up over his shoulder to see our pillows matching now, blood next to blood, and a lifeless Viktor covered in it.

  Grekh places me on the floor and I pace as I wait for Patrick to walk down the stairs to yell at me and tell me not to do that again. He isn’t as mean as our father nor as controlling as father was with me. Patrick is more level-headed, but only with me, definitely not with his business dealings.

  “Think he is going to be pissed?” I ask Grekh who’s sitting down flicking through the channels. He shrugs his shoulders and gets back to watching Teen Mom. “Seriously? Teen Mom, Grekh?”