Mine (Ties that Bind Book 1)

by A. Zavarelli

  “Your hair’s pretty. Why do you color it?”

  I touch my hair, disappointed that he doesn’t like it, and suddenly feel incredibly sad.

  “Ah, shit. Don’t cry.”

  I didn’t realize I was.

  “You’re very beautiful,” he says. “I’m just saying your natural red is very pretty already.”

  I smile, taste the salt of a tear, and lean my cheek against the couch again. I watch him as he takes a photo of something in my bag.

  He thinks I’m beautiful. And I think he’s beautiful.

  I feel a grin stretch across my face, and I do something I would normally be too shy to do. I reach for his face with both hands, press my mouth to his, and I kiss him.

  He’s surprised, I can tell, but he kisses me back a moment later. His mouth tastes good, like whiskey but not stale, just nice. And the scruff on his jaw tickles my cheek, and I want him. I want him so badly, there’s an ache between my legs and an emptiness inside me that I’ve never felt before.

  But when I try to slide my tongue between his lips, he draws back.

  “Hey, hey.” He looks at me, and his eyes have gone dark. “You’re high.”

  I’m confused, but then I look down, and I see he does want me too, so I smile at him. “I want this,” I tell him and kiss him again.

  This time, when he breaks our kiss, he groans. “Katerina,” he says, his voice low and deep and like he doesn’t want to stop. “Be good.”

  Be good.

  Instantly, I’m transported in time, and that feeling is gone; that warm, achy wanting has vanished.

  Be good.

  “I’m sorry.” I drop my head and pull my hands into my lap, then slide one up under my fingerless glove to press my nails into my forearm until it hurts. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Hey.” He taps my face. “It’s all right. You with me?”

  I blink, rubbing my eyes.

  “I don’t know what you took, but you’re tripping. Just try to relax.”

  He wipes his thumbs across my cheeks, and I see smears of black on his fingers. I turn my hands over and see how the backs are smeared with black. Smokey eye gone wrong. Nina had spent half an hour doing that. I wonder what I must look like now. A raccoon probably.

  But then he takes my hands and draws them apart, and we both look down at once.

  Shit. My glove.

  I try to draw my arm away, to cover it, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he peels the glove off and turns my arm so he can see all of it. Every ugly, bumpy inch of it.

  I look too, and sometimes when I see it, I can still feel how much it hurt.

  But that’s not important right now.

  I put my hand over it, although it barely covers half the scar.

  “I’m cold,” I tell him.

  He looks at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to ask me how it happened, but then, without a word, he’s on his feet, and a moment later, I’m lying down on the couch and he’s laying a thick wool throw over me. He lifts my head to slide a pillow beneath it. It’s scratchy, but I don’t mind.

  There’s a ding, and I think it’s the elevator again. I try to sit up, but he tells me once again to relax, so I lie back down.

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. Must have been a text, not the elevator.

  I watch him type something, then repocket it. He looks down at me. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a little bit? I have to go take care of some business, but I’ll be back, okay? You just stay here and get some sleep.”

  I nod. I am tired. Really tired.

  He says something else, but I’m already drifting off, and I feel like I’m floating, like I’m lying on a soft cloud and just floating. I hear him talking again, but I can’t hold on to the words.

  Can’t hold on to anything.

  2

  Lev

  “Levka.”

  My eyes snap open to find Andrei loitering above me. I must have drifted off. Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I sit upright, my gaze drifting to the girl still sleeping on the sofa. Andrei is watching me watch her, and he is curious. This is never a good thing.

  “Who is she?”

  “Nobody,” I answer sharply. Too sharply. The corner of Andrei’s lip tips up, and he allows his gaze to roam the full length of her body as if it’s a challenge. He can’t really see anything beneath the blanket I draped over her, but he’s irritating the fuck out of me, and he knows it. This is what Andrei wants. Everything is a challenge to him. From the day my uncle took me under his wing, my cousin has been a thorn in my side. He is jealous and petty, and everything becomes a competition with him.

  “What do you need?” I stand and obstruct his view of Katerina.

  “My father is on his way,” he says. “He requested a meeting with both of us this afternoon.”

  A bitter taste coats my tongue as I offer him a stiff nod. There is no use arguing the matter. Whatever my uncle says is law. But I still suspect that Andrei didn’t drag himself away from the bar just to tell me this news. He is curious about Katerina, as are all the other guys around the club. It is not common practice for me to bring a woman up here. Unlike Andrei, I don’t make a habit out of fishing the easy pool of drunk women who frequent Delirium. I keep a low profile around here for a reason. As far as the rest of the Vory are concerned, I have no attachments. Because attachments become vulnerabilities.

  I cross my arms and wait for Andrei to leave. He hesitates, considering some alternatives that might delay his departure. I can’t be fucked dealing with him today, so I speed things along by reaching for my leather jacket and slipping it over my shoulders.

  “I’m taking her home,” I tell him. “What time does Vasily want to meet?”

  “Noon,” he grumbles.

  “Then I will see you at noon.”

  With a grunt, he disappears into the elevator, and I am left alone with Katerina. I’m surprised when she peeks up at me from beneath the curtain of wild hair, and I wonder how much of the conversation she actually heard before she opened her eyes.

  “Good morning,” she offers in a raspy voice.

  “Good morning.” My eyes roam over her makeup-stained face. It looks as though she’s had the night from hell, but somehow, she’s still beautiful. Someone as young and pretty and vulnerable as her shouldn’t be in a place like this. But she’s only nineteen, I remind myself. Too young to know better. I wonder if she even remembers anything from last night. If she even realizes how badly her night could have ended if it had been someone else in my place. Tension floods my body as I allow myself to observe her; this tragic, wild creature who had the unfortunate luck of stumbling into my path. I can’t decide what’s worse, the monsters who tried to corner her last night, or the monster in me demanding that I allow myself just one taste. One kiss. One touch. One fuck.

  Christ. She’s staring up at me with those pale green eyes, and I’m becoming all too aware of the escalating temperature in the room. I need to look away. I need to be the one to grasp onto logical thought. Because right now, all I can think about is the way her body felt against mine when she was trying to climb me like a tree last night. If she remembers that, I can’t tell, but when she clears her throat, I realize I need to fucking say something.

  “There’s a bottle of water.” I gesture to the table. “And some Ibuprofen. I figured you might have a headache this morning.”

  I wait for her reaction, half expecting her to start demanding answers about what happened between us. But instead, she simply sits up and scrubs the sleep from her eyes before she reaches for the water. “Thank you for this. My throat is so dry.”

  “That’s what happens when you party too hard,” I observe, my tone harsher than I intend.

  She winces and shakes her head, almost as if she’s disappointed in herself. “I know. That was a really stupid thing to do.”

  “I won’t disagree.”

  She glances up at me and frowns. I’m being an asshole, and I know it. Last night, she
was practically begging me to fuck her. Pawing at me like I was her life raft. Now the illusion is shattered, and she’s already looking for the nearest exit. I don’t want to let her leave, but I need more than anything for her to go. For reasons I can’t really comprehend in my current state of mind, I feel like a hunter staring at his prey. I’m drawn to this girl in a way I haven’t been drawn to anyone else… ever. And that’s exactly why I need to let her run, as fast and as far as she can.

  “I’m sorry I took up so much of your time,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pass out. God, this is so embarrassing.”

  Words fail me when she glances at me nervously as she finger-combs her hair back into place and knots it at the nape of her neck with a hair tie. This entire encounter isn’t something I’m particularly used to. I don’t make a habit of small talk, and usually, if she was one of my hookups, I’d be long gone by now. But she isn’t a hookup. Even though I can still feel her lips on mine, and I can still smell her arousal as she offered herself to me like a human sacrifice. My cock throbs at the memory, anxious to squeeze inside her and forget all the reasons this can’t ever happen. I’m trying not to think about that when I point to her left.

  “There’s a bathroom if you need to use it.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she murmurs as if I read her mind. She tosses the blanket aside and stretches, arching her back and displaying every curve in her body without being aware of it. In the light of day, her tight black pants and corset aren’t doing anything to dull my senses.

  She pads to the bathroom with bare feet, and I check my phone for any messages while I try to devise a plan. I need to take her home, drop her off, and tell her to have a nice life. That’s the smart thing to do. But even as I tell myself that, I’m considering what I really want to do.

  Katerina reappears from the bathroom, fresh-faced and slightly sheepish. She’s scrubbed off her makeup, and now all that’s left is her vulnerability. It shows when she slips back into the lace-clad gloves that cover the scar on the inside her forearm. The one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I saw it.

  Who hurt you?

  I want to ask, but that’s not a path I’m willing to go down. This girl, whoever she is, isn’t for me. I don’t do attachments. I don’t rescue broken women. She needs a nice, sweet guy to set her straight and take her to dinner and the movies. That won’t ever be me, and I already want to murder the motherfucker who gets to have those things with her.

  “I’ll take you home.” I force the words out as she slips into her coat and boots.

  “There’s no need.” She offers me a shy smile. “I already called Nina. She’s coming to get me.”

  “Nina?” I repeat the name with obvious contempt, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “Do you know her?” Katerina asks.

  It isn’t something I want to get into, so I deflect. “It’s not a problem for me to drop you off.”

  Before she can reply, the elevator doors open, and Andrei appears again with a shit-eating grin on his face when he sees Katerina is awake. Motherfucker.

  “My apologies, Levka. I didn’t realize your friend was still here.”

  Sure, you didn’t, asshole. “Did you need something else?”

  “Yeah, I need to talk to you about those contracts.”

  “Right now?” I stare at him incredulously. He’s getting on my last nerve this morning. He’s like a fucking hound, sniffing out my every move. If he had his way, he’d be pissing circles around Kat right now too.

  “We only have a short time before my father arrives,” he answers. “I figured it’s best to be prepared.”

  As much as I want to deny that he’s right, the big oaf does have a point. The business we have to discuss isn’t about any contracts, but it is time sensitive. When Vasily arrives today, I need to have my head in the game. But even knowing this, I’m still not ready to let Katerina run off just yet. It feels like we have unfinished business, but I don’t yet know what it is. When I glance at her, she’s already moving toward the elevator, slipping out of my grasp.

  “I don’t want to keep you,” she says quietly. “I’ll just let myself out. Nina’s downstairs waiting for me.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but Andrei is watching me intently, and there is nothing I can say in his presence that he won’t misread. So instead, I simply nod, and she offers me one last sad smile before the elevator doors close her in and sweep her away.

  After discussing the von Brandt family at length with Vasily, Andrei and I receive our marching orders. This job is not something I’m at all comfortable with, given my new association with Katerina. Though I don’t particularly care for Nina, Kat considers her a friend. I can’t help wondering how this might affect her if it goes south. But regardless, it’s out of my hands.

  William von Brandt brought this on himself, and whatever ill fate befalls him is his responsibility alone. Still, it does not sit easy with me as I consider the position he’s put us in. Vasily does not give more than one warning. In many cases, he doesn’t bother to give any. William is a father and a husband, and he’s playing a dangerous game testing a Vor’s patience this way.

  I shake off those feelings and splash some cold water onto my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Sometimes, on days like today, I don’t recognize the man staring back at me. What would my mother think if she could see me now? I close my eyes as a sharp pain lances through my chest. It’s a pain that never goes away. No length of time or distance from her memory can spare me from this ache. She would certainly disapprove of my choices, but she isn’t here to tell me so. She isn’t here because someone took her from this world, and now the only recourse I have left is to find out who. At any cost. This is what keeps me going as I continue to show up and fall in line. Nothing can come between me and my revenge. Her death cannot go unpunished.

  I shut the bathroom door behind me and consider heading down to the bar to dilute the blood in my veins with some good quality vodka. But before I get the opportunity, something on the sofa catches my eye. A piece of fabric peeks out from between the cushions, and I recognize it as the scarf Katerina was wearing last night. Sure enough, when I retrieve it and bring it to my nose, I can still smell her.

  The beautiful, tragic woman continues to haunt me long after her absence. As I thread the fabric between my fingers, I wonder what it is about her that draws me in. She is exactly what I don’t need in my life right now. Or ever, for that matter. Women are a vulnerability. But even as I consider it, I’m already making plans to return the scarf to her. Because now I’m curious about where she lives, and I need to see it for myself. I need to know that she made it home safely.

  I stuff the scarf into my jacket and retrieve my phone as I head for the elevator. Pulling up the image of her license from last night, I type the address into my navigation app. It looks like she lives in an apartment complex about twenty minutes away. It’s in the low-rent area of Philadelphia, which means it’s also the highest crime district. Naturally, I have become well acquainted with these streets, but I can’t imagine her living there.

  Tightness lingers in my chest as some of the Vory brothers try to intercept me on my way out the door. The meeting has not been finished for more than thirty minutes, and already Andrei is displaying his drunken stupidity.

  “Where are you off to so fast?” he demands.

  “Good night, Andrei,” I answer him dismissively.

  He slips off his barstool in his attempt to stand and falls flat on his ass. Laughter erupts from the men around the bar, and I seize the moment of distraction to make a swift exit. Out on the street, I slip into my Audi and start the ignition, aiming the car for Katerina’s apartment.

  At least ten times during the drive, I consider turning around. Or dropping the scarf in a mailbox. Perhaps leaving it in front of her door. I could handle this at least a dozen other ways without actually seeing her because I know if I see her, I won’t be satisfied with simply giving her back the scarf
. I’ll ask her questions, and she’ll become human to me. And then I will be royally fucked.

  Regardless, the decision is made for me when I pull into the parking lot of the Shady Grove apartments. It’s even more of a dump than I anticipated, and I think I must have entered the address incorrectly somehow. But one glance at the picture confirms that I’m in the right place. The decrepit brick building squatting on fractured concrete looks more suited to a prison than a residence. Several scrawny children kick a sun-bleached ball around the front courtyard, eyeing me curiously as I get out and shut the door behind me. They look at my car, and then my clothing before they skitter off into one of the complexes. I can’t say that I blame them. If I saw me, I would run too.

  I walk around the front and get a feel for the layout before I figure out Kat is in Building Two. Her apartment isn’t difficult to find. It’s on the ground level, and there’s a sad-looking lawn chair and a wilted plant just outside the front door. At least she tried to decorate the place, I guess.

  I hesitate at the door, considering whether I should cross that threshold. I’ve already come this far, but it wouldn’t be hard to dump the scarf in the chair and leave, never to look back. I know that’s what I should do, but before I can force myself into action, a feminine voice startles me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Turning, I find Katerina dressed in what appears to be a waitress uniform. She looks tired and nervous as her eyes drift to the scarf in my hands.

  “Oh, thank God. I was looking everywhere for that.”

  She holds out her palm to retrieve it, but I hesitate, my eyes drifting down the length of her body. She notices, and a flush creeps over the delicate skin of her throat. I swallow, and tension swells between us like a bomb ready to detonate at any moment. Christ, what is it about this girl that makes me forget what the fuck I’m even doing here?

  “Did you just get home from work?” I ask to break the silence.

  She nods. “Yeah, I wait tables over at the diner on Fifth. It’s nothing to write home about, but it pays the bills.”