Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “Do you enjoy fucking Anton as much as you enjoyed fucking me,” he asked, thinking he is being seductive when really, I just want to throw up at the memory of letting him have his way with me at any point.

  I think about my answer. It needs to be a good one, and I make sure it stings even though Anton and I are still on the outs right now. “I enjoy fucking Anton a lot more than I ever enjoyed it when I was with you. It really helps if I actually like the person I am fucking.”

  Rusev raises his hand to me and smacks me across the face, the loud slap ringing throughout the venue. I know everyone is looking at us now because they heard that. They know something is going on over here. I feel the sting, the burning sensation that follows where his hand has surely left an angry, swollen redness against my left cheek. My eyes sting with tears I did not give voluntarily. They were slapped out of me.

  Two years ago, I would be crying, I would be begging, apologizing, running, anything I could do to get out of being hurt worse by this man I was supposed to love. I would be blaming myself, finding where I was at fault, so I could fix it and never get hit again. The problem with that is Rusev has no logic. He doesn't hit because a woman does something wrong, he hits because it makes him feel powerful and keeps a woman around with the oppression of fear.

  Fear leaves a heavy stench behind, and I am not in the mood to smell it. Instead, I don't even grab my cheek to show my pain. I feel the need to strike back. He is waiting for me, he is waiting to see what I will do. He is so wrong about anything he thinks, I can guarantee it.

  He grabs my neck like he used to, squeezing it in his hand as he holds the power of my life now. He used to do this so often, I know how to breathe, I know how to live through this. I let him do it for a time, because I want him to have a false sense of security before I go after him. I want him to be shocked to silence, maybe to death.

  “You’re such a fucking whore. You never change, Tasha. And therefore, Sergei is not coming to save you from this, do you hear me? If he didn't come to save you when we were engaged, why would he come now?” As he talks, I see red. I am so fucking pissed right now. He is going to regret this encounter.

  Rusev releases my neck, and I cough once, not wanting to show any more weakness than what's already on display, though, if Anton gets a good look at this, he is likely to come save the day and possibly kill this man in cold blood right here. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but I think I deserve my revenge first. I deserve to get him where it hurts too, more than anyone on this planet does.

  “It's funny how you are true to what I always called you now. Do you see how much power I still have over you?” he snarls out at me, too close to my face for comfort. “You are not a woman of wealth anymore. Your last name means nothing because you have tainted it, letting anyone in who knocks hard enough. You are nothing but an entitled little slut and I’m sure your father will never respect that or save you from it. You’ve done this to yourself, you little bitch.”

  I down the last of my vodka, looking right at him. Now I do need the liquid courage as I feel the hatred for this man flare within me like a flame being fanned unnecessarily.

  I reach behind the bar and grab a bottle, breaking the glass on the bar behind me and swiftly jab it into Rusev’s side. I dig its jagged edges in, pushing it so hard and deep I can feel a cut from on my own hand from it as his shirt becomes stained in the blood that he is building for me. It’s funny that it’s red because I would have expected some other color. He can’t be human.

  I don’t care about the way I have injured myself. The point is that I need him to get it, to understand that I am not that weak girl that I was before, when I was with him.

  “Don’t you ever touch me again, and never, ever forget my name,” I tell him with an anger I don't even recognize from myself. I may have never accepted or taken to the darkness of my father’s business before, but I will never be walked on again. I know this, in this moment. I won't let it happen, even if it means being that dark.

  I am sick and tired of power plays and how men use women to fit their lifestyles just the way they want. So, when I do what I do, it’s not just about me, it’s about all the women caught up with mobsters, dealers, club members, criminals…. It is to make the men around me understand that I won't stand for it anymore. There will be no more forced submission and beatings. There will be no more lording money and power over us as long as I have a say. And I am making sure that Rusev doesn’t mess with me or anyone like me ever again. I am hoping the scar I gave him reminds him of that every day, reminds him of who he was fucking messing with.

  I am a Kolosov. Natasha Kolosov. Kolosov’s don't ask, we take what’s ours. I am taking back my dignity. I should never have let it be taken from me in the first place. I can't believe that I did.

  “I am not that dumb little girl anymore,” I tell Rusev, letting the bottle drop from my hand, finally. Not that I expect him not to get that as his hand covered the spot where I injured him. He blinks and doesn't give away much of anything other than pain right now. It doesn't really matter, because I know he will feel it later. “I am a Kolosov. It is time you understand what I am capable of. I am my father’s daughter, after all.”

  CHAPTER 12

  The true soldier fights, not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him. - G. K. Chesterton

  Anton

  I watch her walk away from me as she goes to the ladies’ room. I can think of more than one reason she is headed that way, like this sick motherfucker in front of me rattling on about how lucky I am to have a piece of ass that looks like that. Oh, I know how lucky I am, and I also know my luck could run out any day now. Her round ass and perfectly perky breasts are only two of the things that I love about her. I know I brought her here to look like exactly what this guy thinks, my little whore, a woman to breed with and take control of another Clan. I don't know any more if it’s her I am trying to convince of this or those around me. But it is all a game. I am not going to let this guy or any other touch her. I wonder if she knows that, or of that's why she went galivanting off away from me as soon as she heard this man speak about her.

  I turn back to the man, whose name I have forgotten. I meet so many men on a daily basis, men with money and power as well as peons of other men with power and money. I get the feeling this man is the second of those things, I don't really need to know his name. I know all the important ones.

  “I don't know about that, she’s quite the freak, if you know what I mean.” I wink at him and he laughs jovially before smacking me on the back as if we are best friends. I pull away quickly and act like I see someone else calling me over. This guy already smells like he has downed a whole bottle of wine, so there is a good chance he will migrate back on over to the bar and bother someone else.

  I walk up to a group of Ion’s men who are here. He is not here himself, but they have come to represent the Clan. I don't know whether they are here to watch me or just to blow off some steam. I plan on finding out as I make sure I am standing at a good vantage point to watch the bathrooms, so I know when Natasha is out. I am afraid if I don't keep my eyes on her, she will either be taken from me by some entitled asshole, or she will realize she has a chance to escape and take off running in her stilettos.

  I somehow get lost in the conversations, though, and only catch her with one eye, trailing across the room and straight to the bar. I don't like that she hasn't come straight back to me, but on the outside, it could just look like I told her to go get us both drinks. I don't need to make a scene by going over there and demanding she stay with me all night. Maybe a few moments of distance and a drink or two will help and close this emotional distance between us.

  So, I leave her alone and go back to my job of mingling and letting everyone tell me how jealous they are that I was the one who went and took out Jan, that I was the one to find Natasha and take her. They speculate about if she might already be impregnated with my child, what all the things she doe
s for me behind closed doors are, and how many of my men have had her at once. It seems there is a pretty sick rumor going around that she is the whore for the entirety of Clan Balan. Honestly, I don't think I helped at all on that front.

  I don't know how long it is before I hear it, the sound of a slap so hard it can be heard throughout the room. I look up just in time to follow the gazes of the rest of the guests, right over to the bar where a man has his hand around Natasha’s neck. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but no one touches what is mine. I charge over, not beyond physically pushing people out of the way to get to her, though, as I do, I watch as she defends herself in an unexpected way, gouging out the asshole’s side with a broken bottle of vodka. I watch in interest and horror as I hear her words to this complete stranger, making my heart skip a beat.

  She just said her last name, told this man to watch out by throwing it around. Kolosov. Her name is Kolosov. The Kolosov’s are the largest arms dealers in Russia. Hell, in most of the world. The Clans gets almost all of their arms from Sergei Kolosov. I knew the man had a daughter. It wasn't exactly a secret, but I had no idea that daughter was Natasha, was at all related to one of the Clans. The man had his secrets locked up tight, and it looks like I am now privy to one of them.

  This is quite the development, and it seems like we have a lot to talk about tonight, once I get her out of here. This could be a complete advantage, but I wonder with all of my traveling and my investigative skills how I had never realized I was sleeping with a Kolosov.

  Another question is why the fuck, obviously knowing who she was, would this fucker dare come up to her and try to hurt her? Doesn't he know that she could make a phone call and have him wiped off the face of the Earth? He must be sick, and I am going to make sure he knows he will never lay a hand on her again, in case her assault on him didn't send the clear message he needs to hear.

  I walk up to her and tug her into my side as a symbol. She is mine, that is what it says to this motherfucker who dared to lay his hands on her. I don't care if he is the fucking king of some country, I am going to fuck him up for this, especially now that I notice what her face looks like. That slap was so loud because he caused quite a bit of damage. It is red and swelling as we speak.

  I pull out my gun, knowing it will do a better job of this than my mouth will. I shoot straight for his kneecap, blowing one into his left side. “You never touch what doesn’t belong to you,” I spit, knowing everyone is watching. I hope they all get it too. Not a single one of them, will get away with touching Natasha Kolosov, not if I get a say in it. No one touches her but me.

  The sick bastard I just shot smiles. He is fucking smiling. How is that possible when I have just shot him in the knee and my girl has stabbed him with a jagged glass bottle in the side? He must be hyped up on some strong shit. That's all I can think.

  “Natasha has always been mine,” he tells me. He looks like some rabid animal, and I can tell I am turning purple and red with rage. No one disrespects me like that. No one disrespects Natasha like that. I was the last one to fuck her. She lives in my home. I don't know who this is or where he gets off on calling Natasha his property, but it’s not going to last long.

  I take my gun and aim it at his other knee, a sure shot. I watch him tumble onto the floor, unable to hold his weight with both his kneecaps blown out. “Natasha is mine now!” I scream, unable to control my anger as it takes me over. I see red, and he better believe this is not good news for him. He will be lucky to make it out of here alive. “She will be mine for the rest of her life,” I clarify. I am marking her as my territory right here and now. I don't care if this upsets her more, because right now this is about her, this is about us. This is about saving her from whatever shit she has been into in the past.

  I am not going to let this man take what is mine, or even get the chance to try.

  I mean every single word I say. I know it is the truth, that I want Natasha by my side forever. I do not understand these feelings that she gives me. I may have some friends, but I am a hardened man, living a professional criminal’s life. This is not like me. It is all new. I can’t get the words onto my tongue to say them to Natasha. I don't even think I understand the words that go through my head half the time when I am around her. This is why I can't let her leave. I can’t let her leave me without finding a way to let her know how I feel, whatever way it is that I feel.

  My gun is still out and pointed at this man, and I ask Natasha quietly for his name. I want to know the name of this man, so I can track his every move if I have to, so I know exactly who I am killing if I ever see him near her again.

  “Rusev,” she tells me with venom still in her voice. She hates him. I don't know why just yet, but if she hates him, then so do I. And maybe that in and of itself will endear me to her.

  She is not going to leave me. I don't know how I am going to do this and make this right, but she will belong to me.

  Natasha Kolosov will belong to me forever.

  “Stay the fuck away from my girl, Rusev,” I tell him before grabbing her hand. I immediately lead her out to the car without looking back. We don't need this sporty right now, and if I stay, someone will end up dead, and I know it. I am too angry.

  As we get in the car I try to breathe. I am furious at Rusev for trying to do that, humiliate me and Natasha in front of everyone. I feel a burning hatred for the fact that he has hurt her, and I wasn't there to stop it before he did. I also feel a little mad at Natasha for not telling me who she was even after she got so angry at me for the same thing. There is another secret that has been revealed between us.

  She could have shared this little tidbit with me at any point, before or after I killed her uncle. It may not be a conversation starter but being the daughter of Sergei Kolosov is pretty fucking important information, especially to a Clan leader like me. “So, you’re a Kolosov,” I say matter of factly, no ire or vitriol in my voice. I don't want to scare her away now that I am sorting all these things out in my head and heart when it comes to her. She nods, looking out the window and away from me. I can’t tell if this time it has to do with me directly, or for the man I shot with all the prying eyes watching. “You are Sergei Kolosov’s daughter. I don't think I ever would have guessed that,” I mumble to myself, though she probably hears me.

  “Take us back home,” I tell the driver, and he nods before I slide the privacy screen up so that it is like it’s just Natasha and me. I need these few minutes alone with her, near, before we go back inside my house and things go back to the way they were before we left.

  I wrap my arm around her lower back, making sure she stays close to me and knows I am here for her if she decides to say anything, if she needs to talk about what happened or who that man was. I begin to stroke her upper thigh gently with my fingertips. I get back to the gentleness we had with each other before. Maybe I have been part of the problem.

  I want Natasha to know that I care, that I didn't just shoot Rusev to prove something to the crowd or for my own selfish wants. I did it for her. I can’t seem to verbalize it. I need a lot of work in that department, it seems.

  I know I don't want her to live in fear of me, or to be afraid right now, whether it be of me or the fact that this sick Rusev guy might come back around at some point because of what both of us did to him. I will always protect her, even when she doesn't like what I have to do to keep her safe.

  I don’t say a word to her during the car ride, though. I need to get in my thoughts and analyze our situation. A different approach needs to be taken if I am not going to lose her. It seems there is so little I know about her than I previously thought. I need to get back to that, back to getting to know Natasha, the spitfire redhead who has more connections than I imagined.

  There are so many advantages to getting on her good side. I would win two prizes in one; her body and heart forever, as well as the alliance of her father, which is not a bad man to have on my side. He is ruthless and does sick and scary business, don’t ge
t me wrong, but he will also kill for his allies. He will come running. The Clans could use that right now, especially when there is still a slight chance that Jan was not our guy and a war could come to us. The pieces aren’t adding up, both Ion and I are seeing that.

  I look over at Natasha as we get close to the house, and I see she is more relaxed, looking thoughtful like I am. I hope that I am a good part of those thoughts, that maybe what has happened between us tonight and the comfort I am trying to give her might change her mind and open her back up to me in one way or another.

  My palm splays out onto her thigh, and I just hold it there, pretending that it means she is already mine, that she has already pledged herself to me in every way.

  CHAPTER 13

  She hid her heart behind a wall in which only a real man could climb. - R. H. Sin

  Natasha

  Anton has not spoken to me since the car started rolling its way towards his house. His hand is wrapped around my back, and he is stroking my thigh. I am not sure whether I should be taking comfort in this or not. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy watching Rusev in pain as he fell to the floor with a shot in each knee, but it didn't leave me any less confused than I was before we got to the party. I liked the kiss we shared. It was impossible not to, and I liked the way he protected me and the way he held me in this car, but I don't know what it means.

  I don't know what I want it to mean, if I want it to mean anything.

  We pull up into the parking garage which houses the high rise I have been captive in for several days, weeks, how long has it been? I have honestly lost the exact count. All these rooms and money, and there is no calendar.