Kaznachei’s Pain

by Mason, V. F.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Dominic muttered, separating us though we still glared at one another.

  Dust and sweat coated our skin, reminding us of the mess we had created, when finally Dom spoke. “We simply worry about you, Yuri. Either claim her or leave her. But this sneaking out will get you both in trouble.” With one last glance between us, he motioned for Vitya and they went to the car. Then Dom took my place, clearly aiming to fix it as soon as possible.

  Gleb stood up, dusted his knees, and then with an exaggerated sigh extended his hand to me. I took it and he helped me up. I followed suit and removed as much of the disgusting dirt from my jeans as I could in the circumstances.

  We were silent for several beats when finally he patted my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. It’s none of my business.” My brow rose at this, but then I almost smiled when he added, “But she will never truly accept this.”

  “And that’s what I love about her. She doesn’t want me to be Yuri of the Konstantinov Bratva.”

  He frowned, we shared a man hug, and relief washed over me, because fighting with my best friend always sucked.

  I was about to join guys, when his next words stopped me in my tracks. “But that’s exactly who you are.”

  I wouldn’t understand the importance of his statement for a long time.

  New York, New York

  August 2017

  Melissa

  Pressing the ice pack against my stomach, I winced, gritting my teeth. The fucker had to punch me in my sensitive spot, didn’t he?

  Pouring myself a cup of green mint tea, I walked to the couch, but the rapid ringing of my doorbell caught me off guard.

  Everyone and their mother had already checked on me, and I specifically told Connor not to show up at my place with medication, because it was nothing but a bruise. I took enough ibuprofen and I’d be fine soon.

  I went to the door, muttering, “Why these stubborn men can’t understand that women do actually know what they want.” Wrapping my hands around the doorknob, I opened it wide and said, “You know what, Connor, when a woman tells you not to come, you should….” I paused, blinking when I met icy blue eyes that drilled me while his gaze swept up and down, inspecting me from head to toe. They flared when he focused on my neck, probably seeing the red marks from the choke hold and then the ice pack.

  Without an invitation, he barged inside and kept on coming as I retreated farther and farther into the apartment, mesmerized by his intense stare. Finally, the back of my knees hit the edge of the couch and I dropped onto it, wincing, and he immediately kneeled in front of me, lifting my shirt. “Where does it hurt?”

  Too stunned with his behavior, I replied without thinking. “Everywhere.” The blazing fury intensified—if it were possible—so I quickly added, “I’m just sore from the fight, but that’s about it.”

  He examined my stomach, gently rubbing the bruises and then pressed the ice, and I groaned. “Careful.” He shook his head and took out his phone, and the minute someone answered, he said in Russian, “Mne nujna maz, jelatelno hranitel.” He waited a beat and then nodded. “Bystro prinesi tolkoo to chto ya skazal.” Satisfied, he threw the phone on the couch and addressed me. “What did they want?”

  Yuri probably wasn’t aware I spoke Russian fluently and my stomach fluttered at him wanting to bring me special ointment that would soothe my bruises. He was very adamant that his orders were to be followed exactly.

  I finally snapped back from shock and found my voice. “It’s classified.” What did he think? I wasn’t Connor who had some kind of loyalty to the pakhan of the Bratva for saving him all those years ago. I didn’t share information for the cases they found that fit their investigations. Granted, Connor only shared when he needed their help, but it didn’t change the outcome. The mafia had no business questioning me. “You can tell Dominic I won’t talk about my cases. Ever.”

  “Dominic has nothing to do with it, and my advice is to never say never.”

  My brows furrowed at this. “I said ever.”

  He shrugged, removing his jacket and rolling up his white shirtsleeves. “The meaning is still applicable.” Then he leaned forward, resting his hand on the back of the couch. “The people who targeted you. They left a message, didn’t they?”

  “How do you know?” Was he the he? But why would people want to kill me because of him? I was nothing but a one-night stand. Surely my death wouldn’t have been a message for him? Yeah, it had no logical basis. “I’m sure it wasn’t for you, so you can leave now with your conscience intact. Didn’t you have a flight to catch?” The man was supposed to be flying over the Atlantic right at that moment, so why exactly was he here?

  Yuri disturbed my sanity with his overpowering smell and presence that sent energy through my entire system, causing my skin to prickle just remembering his touches.

  His knuckles slid down my cheek gently, ending at my chin as he lifted it so our gazes clashed. My heart stilled, as he once again created a cocoon around us and the outside world ceased to exist. As his lips hovered above mine and my pulse beat rapidly against his index finger, I welcomed the sensations he had the power to awaken in my body.

  Why did I become a weak female around him? It was like my control didn’t exist as long as he was close. And it must be the same for him too, because didn’t he claim it was only a one-night stand?

  Then what was he doing here and back in the office? “Melissa,” he whispered, and as he was about to kiss me, and my eyes closed, the doorbell rang and shattered the magic.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back and going to the door, while I gulped as much breath as possible, trying to calm myself down.

  I shouldn’t create fantasies in my head or imagine something that was not there. I had been alone for so long that a simple gesture of kindness made me think the guy had some agenda.

  Maybe he simply wasn’t as coldhearted as he claimed.

  Wanting to check on the guest, I rose, but his order stopped me. “Sit your ass down, Melissa. This is my man.” They spoke quietly so I couldn’t hear a thing, and then he came back holding a paper bag. “This should help your neck.” He frowned at something on the table and then picked up my cup, smelling it. “Mint is good.” He gave it to me and I took it, sipping a little and welcoming how it soothed my throat.

  He kicked the small table closer, sat down on it, and then motioned for me to scoot to the edge of the couch. Exhaling heavily, as clearly dealing with this man only worked while complying with his orders, I did as he asked, more curious about the ointment that would help me.

  My neck hurt like a bitch, and if his magical stuff might help me face a new day at work in the morning, I would allow him to play nurse. Or a sexy doctor.

  I grinned at the thought and snorted, while he opened up the box with the Russian medication. Then he told me, dead serious, “You can leave your fantasies on the table. I’m no nurse.” I burst out laughing, just imagining him in that role, but then groaned. “Stop talking and laughing. Come here.” He put on plastic gloves, squeezed the thing on his finger, and then fisted my hair to get it out of the way as he applied it on my neck, gently rubbing it into the skin.

  My nose twitched. “The smell is disgusting.”

  “Tough,” he replied, applying more. “Don’t even think about washing it off. Keep it on overnight, and in the morning it should be all good. It’s never failed me.”

  This whole moment felt so freaking surreal to me. “Why are you doing this?”

  His movements paused at my question, but then he resumed, focusing his attention on my collarbone but giving me the answer nevertheless. “It happened because of me. I cannot leave without protecting you.”

  Nothing in his tone or demeanor implied he was joking, so before I could even think about it, I pushed him back. He raised his surprised eyes to me. “I’m not a damsel in distress that needs saving, Yuri.” Even though it might have looked like it during our encounters, I didn’t need saving.

  I could
take care of myself; he’d just caught me off guard on my birthday. A date that always had the power to destroy me.

  “I never said that. But this mess happened because of me. And until I fix it, I won’t go away,” he warned, finishing off his task as he rose, throwing the gloves into the bag. “Now, you need sleep. I will stay over.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he wiggled his index finger. “The minute I know who to catch and where, you will get them. But do not fight me on this. I know these kinds of people.”

  “So do I!” Did he really think I hadn’t met my fair share of assholes in this job?

  “They will deliver a revenge blow wherever they see fit. Today it was a secluded parking lot. What if tomorrow you go to your favorite park for a run and people are there? Are you willing to sacrifice someone else just because you want to act like a tough fucking agent?” he barked, clearly fed up with this argument.

  I gritted my teeth. I didn’t value my life much. I was ready to sacrifice it on the job if it meant saving someone. But I would never allow my pride or stubbornness to harm the innocent.

  And Yuri Radionov never would have come back if it wasn’t for how dangerous the enemies were. “Fine,” I finally agreed. “I’m going to go to bed, because I have to wake up early in the morning. Be my guest on the couch.” And without waiting for his reply, I quickly went to my room where I closed the door, resting my back against it.

  Placing my hand on my chest, I willed my heart to stop beating so furiously, because in our situation, it would be tragic.

  Especially for me, because the man in my living room might have come to save me, but he had nothing to give me.

  Nothing that mattered anyway.

  Yuri

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I walked to the couch and dropped onto it, running my hand through my hair as I wondered how the fuck I ended up in such a situation.

  Me, who never cared about anything in the last ten years, who everyone knew that nothing could snap my iron-willed control… I was sitting in the fucking middle of the living room of an FBI agent who got hurt because of me.

  But more importantly?

  The rage that consumed me and demanded punishment for every bruise inflicted on her delicate skin… I’d never experienced anything of this intensity, and my hands fisted as I imagined catching those who harmed her.

  None of them would get away from me alive.

  However, this emotion brought nothing but chaos to me, because I shouldn’t experience this strong a reaction for a woman I barely knew.

  To any woman, period.

  An image of a blonde-haired beauty flashed in my mind, her laughter echoing in my ears, and I squeezed the bottle harder, water spilling on the carpet while I fought an internal battle.

  Savannah.

  How could I even think about another woman when I lost her because of my mistakes?

  Then it dawned on me. The logical explanation for the situation was I didn’t want Melissa to pay for my past mistakes and end up dead. The guilt from the past still rode me hard, and that was why I wanted to help her.

  It had nothing to do with anything else or the desire to make her mine every time she passed.

  I slid down on the couch and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing and making sure I didn’t hear anything coming from Melissa’s room. I remembered my first choking lesson from Radmir; the fucker made sure we choked on our own spit but fought our way out of the hold. I couldn’t eat anything for hours but managed to win.

  The idea of her suffering like that didn’t help me calm down.

  Focusing back on sleep, I was planning in my head a few calls tomorrow when my ears caught a barely audible sound of the lock being turned on the front door.

  A sinister smile pulled at my lips; the old fuckers were so predictable it was a wonder they still had a brotherhood to uphold.

  I wrapped my hands around the gun resting on my stomach when the intruder entered, stepping soundlessly on the floor, only the light scratch of his socks sliding against the wood could be heard.

  The moonlight shone brightly in the living room, bathing the apartment in a mysterious light that would have been perfect if one wanted to fuck his woman on the kitchen counter and watch pleasure spread through her.

  I shook my head from the image of Melissa in this position and focused on the current situation.

  The light was also perfect for seeing the intruder clearly, and the minute he appeared in my vision, I removed the safety of the gun and pointed it straight at him. He paused, his eyes widening as he pointed his gun at me, but then he froze. He probably felt the cold metal pressed to his nape from behind.

  A silver-haired man stood behind him, flashing me a grin. “Miss me?”

  Leave it to Gleb to always make a show of his entrance.

  He knocked the gun from the intruder’s hand. Gleb quickly squeezed the man’s right finger and crushed it, making sure to break it as painfully as possible, per my request. The man cried out in pain, but it was muffled as Gleb covered his mouth with a cloth and he stuffed it inside.

  Two Bratva byki, enforcers in other words, showed up as well, and he ordered them quietly, “Pack him up and take him to the warehouse.” They nodded and got him out before Gleb focused his exotic green eyes on me, cocking his head to the side. “How do you want me to interrogate him? Knives? Fear? Ropes?” he asked excitedly, but I shook my head, which resulted in him frowning. “We’re not gonna inflict torture? I came all the way from Los Angeles just to catch that shit?” Distaste laced his voice, so I got up, going straight to him, hugging him with one arm and slapping his back while he returned the gesture. He showed up here on short notice as soon I asked, because I knew I needed Gleb’s help to handle this case.

  All my other best friends were otherwise occupied and had their own plate of problems; they didn’t need this trouble.

  Life has no value without friendship.

  “Glad you’re here,” I murmured, and he nodded, leaning back.

  “You and her…?”

  “No,” I replied, and he nodded again, not adding anything else, although I imagined he wanted to add plenty.

  “Okay. If you don’t need me to torture the fucker, why did you call for me?”

  “I will do that.”

  He blinked in shock, and no wonder. I never participated in such stuff, not finding it interesting… or good. Besides, a kaznachei had better things to do than beat the crap out of enemies on a daily basis. But this time, everything was different.

  They shouldn’t have harmed Melissa. “I need you to stay with her tonight while I get my answers.” I didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe, nor did I trust my enemies to stop at one failed attempt. I knew how things worked. The minute he failed to inform them on time that the job was done, they’d know the mission had failed and would try again.

  They wouldn’t rest until they accomplished their goal, because they hated no one more than me in this life, and unfortunately, they thought Melissa was important to me, when in fact, nothing but sex connected us.

  Or that was the excuse I decided to stick to.

  Gleb watched me for a few moments, different emotions flashing across his face. Finally, he spoke up. “As you wish. I hope you know what you’re doing, Yuri. It can go south very quickly, and then Dom will have both our asses.”

  Yeah, I was sure.

  After all, Kuzmin Bratva thought I owed them, and they weren’t wrong. Had they aimed at me, I would have forgiven them this… because they had every right to hate me.

  But they touched Melissa, and with that, they changed the rules of the game.

  No one harmed what I wanted.

  Even if this want was a fleeting desire.

  A man with no name

  Sipping my whiskey, I fisted the hair of the woman who sucked my dick and pushed her to the side, causing her to stumble and whimper in pain. “You don’t know how to do it right.” Pulling my zipper up, I motioned with my head to my guard who immedi
ately dragged her outside as she screamed, sending a pleading look my way.

  I laughed at it; as if I would give a flying fuck about her well-being. The bitch couldn’t give good head, so she was of no use to me. Hopefully, my guards would dispose of her body quickly.

  Finishing my glass, I grabbed the folders lying nearby to read about the agent, Melissa, but the files had little information on her. They only showed a plain woman who could barely be seen through the thick black glasses on her nose.

  Perfect agent. Skillful. Spoke five languages. Had the respect and love of her colleagues.

  And a nice bank account. Since when did agents earn this much?

  What did Yuri see in her? I could understand the allure of a beautiful body, but this… this was fucking disrespect to me.

  Savannah.

  She had been magnificent, and Yuri blew it, and it had to be a lesson to him.

  What made him think he could ever claim a woman without me interfering in the process?

  I loved to destroy people and their sanity, stripping their dignity and coating them in self-pity and fear that could feed me for hours. Their screams, their willingness to do anything just for a chance to escape, even if they were five-year-old kids, amused me to no end. The harder they fought, the more interesting it was to watch them die.

  In life, nothing brought me greater pleasure than this.

  Except destroying Yuri’s life piece by piece.

  Glancing once again at Melissa’s photo, I stilled, my fingers prickling as I anticipated the things I could do to her. Breaking her would be a work of art. She was an agent, after all; they were trained to withstand any kind of torture. “Melissa. What a weapon you are in my hands.” Even Yuri thought she was nothing important. I knew him very well.