Scarred Souls: Raze & Reap

by Tillie Cole

  Footsteps sounded behind us and Grandmama pushed us back. Papa was waiting at the door and called us over.

  We ran to Papa and he smiled wide. “Come with me, boys.” Papa led us into the house and through to his office.

  A tapping on the wooden floor seemed to follow us. When I looked around I saw that Zoya was running our way, dressed in a pink dress and clutching her white stuffed toy rabbit.

  “Sykhaara!” she shouted with a giggle, and jumped into my arms. Anri reached over and ruffled her hair. “Where are you going?” she asked. Papa leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

  “I have something for your brothers,” Papa said proudly.

  Zoya’s face lit up. “For me, too?” she shouted in excitement.

  Papa shook his head. “Leave me with your brothers. And if you’re good, I’ll take you to town tomorrow and buy you anything you want.”

  She nodded her head. I placed her on the floor. She ran back to Mama who was watching us with proud eyes as she fed our baby brother and sister.

  “Anri, Zaal, in my office.”

  We sat in Papa’s large office, on the sofa opposite his chair. Papa sat down in his black chair, smoothing out his expensive suit as he did so.

  “Anri, Zaal. When I was your age, my papa controlled our clan. The Kostavas have always been strong. We’ve always been feared and we always will be.

  “But years ago I made a decision for our clan that took us from Moscow and brought us back to Georgia. I issued a command that many took offense to and it cost us our standing in Russia, and with the rest of the Vor V Zakone.

  “I still stand by my decision, but it’s no secret it has damaged this family’s reputation. This is our home. Georgian blood runs through our veins. But in order to rule strong, we need to be back in Moscow. And we need to claim our slice of New York, too.”

  We both nodded, listening to every word our papa said. He spoke of our clan all the time. He spoke about regaining our place in Moscow after the murder of our rival’s boss. Mr. Jakhua, another Georgian boss, and my papa were always in meetings. They always planned to overthrow the Volkov Russians. My papa hated the Volkov Russians. He said they were greedy and needed taking out.

  Anri and I hated the Russians. Papa taught us how to hate them.

  Papa leaned forward. “When I was eight, I began listening in on business meetings of the family. You are both eight, and there’s no better time to start than now. You’ll learn the family business, then when you’re older and I’m gone, you’ll both rule our clan.” Papa smiled and sat back proudly. “Two male heirs. I have two strong young men to carry the Kostavas back to greatness.”

  Anri elbowed me in the side. I smiled as he nodded in pride.

  Papa stood and opened up his safe. He pulled out two black boxes and gave one to each of us. Papa sat back down and pointed at the boxes. “All the men in our family get one at your age. It’s tradition.” He waved his hand. “Open.”

  I carefully opened the box at the same time as Anri. A gold necklace sat on a bed of velvet. I ran my hand over the emblem and Papa leaned forward. I looked up and he pulled his necklace out of his shirt collar.

  “It’s the same as mine. My father had one, too.” A smile spread on his lips. “Be proud to wear them. You’re the future of this family. You’ll fix my mistakes.”

  Anri stood and clutched his necklace to his chest. “We will get revenge for you, Papa. When we’re older we’ll take back Moscow for you. We’ll take New York.”

  I stood beside Anri and did the same. “We swear it, Papa. We’ll make them all pay.”

  Papa stood, and with a hand on each shoulder, asked, “Who will you destroy?”

  We took a deep breath, and recited three names we knew by heart, “The Volkovs, Tolstois, and Durovs.”

  Papa smiled and threw his arms around our shoulders. He led us out of the door. Mama and Grandmama rushed over to help us put our necklaces on. They beamed with pride. My mama stepped back and put her hands to her mouth. “My sons,” she beamed, and ran her hand over the necklaces on our necks.

  “Dinner. We celebrate!” she said, and scooted us all out into the yard.

  Anri pulled on my arm and we snuck into a doorway. He laid his hand on my shoulder and said, “We are strong. We must remain strong to be the heirs Papa wants us to be.”

  “I will,” I replied, “we will,” and Anri put his hands on my cheeks.

  “We’re brothers, Zaal. Until the end. We’ll always be together. We’re stronger together.”

  He gripped my hand and we walked toward the table. The whole family was there. Two seats were free at the top of the table beside Papa.

  Zoya saw us coming and ran toward us. She jumped into my arms. “Zaal! Can you sit beside me?”

  I nodded my head. As the eldest brother, Anri sat beside Papa with me next to him.

  “Come,” I said to Zoya, and sat her down on her seat. I slid in next to Anri. Papa made a toast. The servants brought the food.

  Suddenly a loud crash sounded in the house. Papa clicked his fingers to the guards. “Go see what it is.”

  But the guards didn’t move.

  My papa dropped his fork and rose from his seat. He glared at the guards. “Go and see what that was. Now!”

  All of us were still around the table. The guards rolled their necks. They smirked at my papa, then they raised their rifles.

  A crash sounded again. Suddenly, Mr. Jakhua, my papa’s friend, entered the yard, with lots of guards following him.

  A hand suddenly grabbed mine. When I looked down, I saw it was Anri’s. I was shaking. Shaking so bad. Anri squeezed my hand and mouthed, “Dzlier. Be strong. Keep strong.”

  I nodded as my heart began to race.

  Then Zoya crawled into my arms, tucking her face against my neck. She whimpered. My papa stepped toward Jakhua. A guard suddenly jumped in front and pointed a rifle to his chest.

  My mama cried out, my baby brother and sister beside her started screaming, too.

  “Levan! What the fuck is going on!” my papa shouted. But Levan flicked his finger to his guards.

  The guards rushed toward our table, and I froze. Zoya started crying against my neck. I held her close with one arm as Anri kept tight hold of my other hand.

  The guards rushed to my mama and my grandmama and hauled them to their feet. Two guards took my baby brother and sister. They were screaming for Mama as they were dragged behind.

  Anri jumped to his feet, as did I. I held Zoya in my arms. We tried to back away. Guards came for us. I gripped Zoya tighter, her arms locked around my neck. I fought for air as fear stole my breath. Then, out of nowhere, a guard rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Zoya.

  Zoya screamed against my neck. Everyone was screaming, the sound deafening my ears. Dropping Anri’s hand, I reached for my little sister. But the guard was stronger.

  Her terrified dark eyes met mine and tears fell down her face. “Zaal!” she screamed. Her hand reached out for me to save her.

  “Zoya!” I screamed back, but a guard grabbed me from behind.

  The place was in chaos, my family screaming, guards shouting, and my papa fighting to get free. My head whipped around searching for my brother as my feet left the floor, the guard holding me in the air.

  He was beside me, fighting to get free. “Anri!” I called. His brown eyes found mine.

  “Zaal!” he called back, gripping on to his necklace. “Dzlier. Be strong. Keep strong.” Tears fell down my cheeks, but I forced myself to keep strong.

  “Zaal!” Zoya called, her little arms trying to reach me from across the yard.

  Jakhua stepped forward, stared at me and Anri, then clicked his hand to the wall against our house.

  The guards holding my grandmama, Papa, Mama, Zoya, Dmitry, and Lena, dragged them to the long wall that stretched around the back of the house.

  Anri and I were kept back. Jakhua walked toward us. I watched my papa’s face pale. “No!” he shouted. “Get off my boys!
”

  Jakhua stood beside us and gripped our faces in his hands. He forced us to look forward and he hissed, “Watch, boys. Don’t you dare move your eyes.”

  Mama and Grandmama held our brothers and sisters against their legs, trying to protect them. But Zoya, kept her head facing us, all the time watching me.

  Her pretty face was scrunched up and she called out, “Zaal!”

  I roared and fought to get free. I wanted to be with my family. I could hear Anri doing the same. Trying to get to our family.

  “You fucked us all when you murdered the Tolstoi, Iakob. And I don’t plan on being stuck here in Georgia forever. The Volkovs have banned us from every good trade route, and it’s all your fault. I should never have backed you in killing Matvei. I’ve made new connections with the Arzianis. They have enterprises in the U.S. and in Moscow. You, the Kostavas … you’re done.”

  My papa shook his head. My eyes focused on my family’s terrified faces, my gaze lingering on Zoya’s crying eyes. Then Jakhua lifted his arm, and a second later, dropped it. The guns began to fire.

  The sound of my family screaming hit my ears first. Anri and my screams added to the chaos. Then the blood started to pour. Red liquid pooled on the pavement and ran down the back wall of the house.

  My heart pumped too fast. My whole body shook as my family, one by one, slumped to the ground. Dead. All dead.

  When the gunfire stopped, silence reigned. I could hear Anri breathing heavily. I was panting, too. I stared straight ahead. When the guards moved aside, my knees grew weak and I fell to the ground.

  Blood. My family dead, drowned in their own blood.

  My hands shook. A rage built up my throat. Then, with tears in my eyes, I screamed. My heart broke as I looked at my family on the ground … my little brother and sisters … Zoya’s body trapped underneath my grandmama’s, her hand reaching for me, now still and lifeless.

  Anri screamed beside me as I vomited on the floor.

  Blood. All I could see was blood.

  Jakhua then moved before me and Anri. He spoke to the guards. “Knock them out. Get them in the van. We’re done here. Leave the bodies. They can rot in the sun.”

  I held my stare at my dead family. Then I felt a hand grip on to mine. I looked to the side, my eyes blurred with tears. Anri’s devastated face stared back at me.

  I wanted to speak, I tried, but no words came. I was racked with pain, so much I didn’t think I would breathe ever again.

  I was staring into Anri’s eyes when everything went black.

  I woke strapped to a bed, my brother beside me, and the pain started again …

  My eyes snapped open; darkness prevailed. I was panting. My heart beat too fast. With crystal clarity, the images from my dream played over and over in my mind.… Blood, guns, Jakhua, my brother, Anri, my sister, Zoya, crying, her hand reaching for me to save her … but I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save any of them.

  My stomach lurched and I fought back vomit. I wanted to move. I wanted to dive off the bed and scream. I wanted to rip someone apart. Rip Jakhua apart like he ripped apart my family. I squeezed my eyes shut as my numb body refused to move. My mind held me prisoner as it replayed their deaths in my head. I could see it so clearly. I could smell the tinny smell of fresh blood, the smoke from the rapid gunfire. And I could see the lifeless open eyes of my parents, and Grandmama. I could see the tiny lapsed bodies of my baby brother and sister strewn on the bloodied floor. And I could see Zoya’s tiny hand peeking out from below my grandmama. But I couldn’t see her face.

  And Anri. I could see every part of his face, identical to mine.

  My stomach knotted so hard I thought I’d never breathe again, the crack in my soul so great I thought it would never heal. Before I had no feeling, no memories of my past. But now? Now I was feeling everything, every loss, every horror in my mind. Every memory was a dagger in my body, one I couldn’t remove.

  Tears were pouring from my eyes. An ache, so painful it stole my breath, ripped through my body. More memories poured into my mind—the necklace, my brother, Anri. Fuck! Anri, him holding my hand.

  I looked down at my hand. It still felt so real. I could still feel Anri’s fingers squeezing, telling me, “Dzlieri. Be strong. Keep strong.”

  More tears fell. When I saw the horror I felt reflected in his eyes, his dark eyes, dark eyes like Zoya’s, Zoya who had died, my little Zoya, crying my name and reaching for my hand until the very end.

  I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t take this wave after wave of agony that crushed my soul. I wanted the images to stop. I wanted my family’s pain to stop.

  I wanted it all to fucking stop!

  My body tensing and pain convulsing my chest, I turned toward Talia. I knew she was beside me, her hand lay on my stomach.

  I focused on that hand. I focused on the warmth seeping into my skin.

  I wasn’t alone. No longer alone. I had Talia. I had Talia in my heart.

  Hearing her soft breathing, I rolled onto my side, my eyes blurring through a mist of tears. I lay on my arm, just watching her sleep. I could see her sleeping form lit by the dull light from her bedside table lamp. She knew I hated the dark. She knew it without me having to tell her it. I blinked away my tears and focused on her long golden hair, on her pink mouth parted by sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut as another stab of pain sliced my heart.

  I reached out and laid my hand on hers. I wanted her to wake. I needed her hand on my face. I needed her mouth on mine, I needed her to wrap her arms around my waist.

  I gripped her hand, but still she slept on. My eyes wandered over her body. My chest clenched with how much I wanted her. She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

  My gaze drifted down her neck to her chest and her tits. Then I stilled, my eyes wide as my gaze met the gold necklace around her neck. I gasped for air as I recalled my papa handing similar ones to Anri and I. He wanted us to restore the clan’s reputation, to make the Kostavas great once more.…

  Papa stood, and with a hand on each shoulder, asked, “Who will you destroy?”

  We took a deep breath, and recited the three names we knew by heart; “The Volkovs, Tolstois, and Durovs.” My blood rushed like fire through my veins. The necklaces we were given were gold, the pendent showing our family crest.

  I stared at Talia’s necklace, it looked exactly the same. Breath held, I leaned forward and studied the pendent. There was a crest. My pulse pounded as I made out the emblem—a wolf, a shield, and then I stopped dead when my eyes read the family name engraved along the top.

  Breathe, breathe, I told myself, but I couldn’t breathe. Releasing Talia’s hand, my fists clenched at my sides.

  It couldn’t be. She can’t be. No!

  I remembered waking in the basement. I was trapped in darkness, I was held in chains. Captured. Left to die.

  I shook my head as pain and rage filled my muscles. The name on Talia’s pendent pierced my mind. With each and every stab, the fire burned and burned. They’d exiled my family. They were the reason Jakhua turned on my father, the reason my family had died.

  Papa’s voice sounded in my head, “Who will you destroy?”

  “The Volkovs, Tolstois, and Durovs.”

  Tolstoi.

  No longer able to rein in my fury, a roar ripped from my throat. I lurched my body over Talia. She’d lied. She’d deceived me. I wasn’t free.… I was a fucking captive of the Tolstois!

  Talia’s brown eyes snapped open in shock. I gripped both of her wrists, lifting them above her head. She gasped as she tried to move, the blood rushing from her face. But she wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t move.

  Her frightened brown eyes met mine. “Zaal, what? What’s wrong?”

  She pulled on her arms, trying to break free, but I snarled and hissed, “Tolstoi…” Venom and hatred fueled my anger.

  Talia’s face turned even whiter and her eyes grew impossibly wide. Her bottom lip began to tremble and her hands began to shake. “Zaal … please,”
she begged. Her plea, for a moment, made me flinch. I hated when she was sad.

  Tolstoi! My mind pushed. Anger regained its hold.

  “Tolstoi,” I growled threateningly.

  She shook her head. “Zaal.”

  “Fucking Tolstois!” I roared. “The enemy!” Talia flinched and cowered underneath my body. “You’re the fucking enemy!” I thundered, but Talia only cried more.

  “No!” she whispered brokenly. “Don’t.”

  Klavs, klavs, klavs, sasaklao, I heard in my mind.

  I should have killed her. I was a Kostava. Tolstois should die under my hand. But I couldn’t. It was Talia.

  Wrenching back, I pushed off the bed. My hands gripped the side of my skull. The pain was too much, grief consuming my heart.

  “Zaal!” Talia cried and scurried to the end of the bed. I whipped my head to face her. Her face was red and blotted from crying. She stared at me, and my heart ached. It was Talia. My Talia.

  But she was a fucking Tolstoi!

  With shaking arms, she held out her hand. “Please,” she begged, “take it … trust me … let me explain.”

  I stared at her hand. But all I could see was Papa giving me and Anri our necklaces, telling us to avenge the family. The guards pointing rifles, gunshots, blood … Zoya … Zoya’s dark eyes begging me to help. But I couldn’t … I couldn’t save her.…

  New images invaded my brain. A narrow cold bed, Jakhua’s cold smirk, his laughter, needles, pain from being sliced open. Anri screaming beside me. Chains, beatings. More needles, more pain. Then darkness, anger, nothing but red-hot anger, and the constant craving to kill.

  Body shaking, my neck corded and bulged with tension. My teeth gritted. I clenched my fists so hard my nails drew blood on my palm. I screamed to the sky and ran out of Talia Tolstaia’s room.

  I thundered toward the stairs. Tolstoi guards were running to meet me, guns held high. Roaring at the memory of guards firing on my family, I charged. They were nothing to me. I plowed my fist into a guard’s face. Lifting him in my hands, I raised my knee, thrust him down, and snapped his back.

  Another guard fired at me; the bullet hit the wall. But the sound of that bullet incensed me, ripping me straight back into the past. Reaching out over the narrow staircase, I gripped the guard’s neck, and slammed my head against his. The guard faltered, collapsing on impact. I placed my hands around his neck and twisted. It snapped, and I threw his lifeless body on the floor.