by J. L. Beck
“What kind of shit did you get yourself into anyway? Why didn’t you just go to one of your people to get sewed up?”
Roman is clearly unhappy we are here but I don’t care how unhappy he is so long as he keeps Ivan alive.
“They’re not my people; they’re Rossi’s people… and they’re the ones trying to kill me.”
“Well, that’s fucking great. What the hell did you do to piss him off?” Roman moves to the foot of the bed and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s huge, just like Ivan. They share the same dark brooding features and olive colored skin. Roman’s body is more muscular than Ivan’s, more defined, like an athlete. In a fight, I’m sure they would be evenly matched.
“I took something of his,” Ivan hisses, pain filling his features.
“Well, here’s an idea… give it the fuck back.” Roman stops talking and takes a step back, turning to his side. His line of vision following Ivan’s.
I can tell the moment he pieces the puzzle together inside his head. Through clenched teeth, Roman speaks again, and his anger is damn near terrifying. “You took her, didn’t you? You took one of his fucking whores? God, why am I so surprised? I should expect this shit from you by now.”
“Shut the fuck up, Roman,” Ivan growls, trying to sit up. His attempt is futile, since within a second, he’s pushed back down on the table. “She isn’t one of his whores. I took her before he could get his hands on her. I gave up everything for her. I brought her into hiding with me. I want more for us, more for her.”
Roman rolls his eyes. “You must be fucking her then because no man I know is going to risk his life for a woman he ain’t getting any pussy from.” His remark makes my cheeks heat, he’s crude, unapologetic, and completely different than Ivan in every single way other than physically.
“It doesn't matter what I'm doing. I don't owe you an explanation. Just leave her the fuck out of it.” Ivan sounds annoyed, clearly not wanting to talk to his brother about our complicated relationship.
Roman laughs but it’s humorless and makes his already dark features darker. “Then I guess I didn't need to save your fucking life, now did I?” Without another word, he storms from the room, slamming his fist into the drywall on the way out. The noise vibrates through me, but I don't even startle. I bite my tongue and tell myself it’s not worth it to stick up for Ivan against his brother, but it is to me. I don’t want him thinking that all of this is his brother’s fault, not when almost all of it is mine. I release Ivan’s warm hand from mine and start toward the door.
“What are you doing, Violet?” Ivan’s voice is deeper than usual and stops me in my tracks. For a moment, I rethink talking to him. He’s obviously angry, but I’m not scared of him. I’ve seen worse and had worse done to me by now.
“I’ll be back,” I throw over my shoulder, walking out of the room.
“Violet…” Ivan growls after me. “Fuck, Violet,” he calls once more, frustration coating his words. I continue forward, ignoring him, and head down the hall and into the open gym. I notice instantly that almost all of the men who were here a short time earlier are gone now.
A grunt and the sound of something being hit draws my attention to the right corner of the room, where I see Roman landing some hard hits against heavy sandbags. Yet another difference between Ivan and him. Ivan isn’t nearly as violent and angry as his brother is, and I wonder why? Why is this man is so angry at everything?
I walk over to him, stopping once I’m only a few feet away. I know he can see me, there’s no way he can’t, but that doesn’t mean he has to pay me any attention and weirdly, that seems to make me angrier.
“I don’t know what happened between you and your brother, but if you don’t help us, he is as good as dead. They already found us once. They going to kill him and then…” I scowl, trailing off, as he lands another hard punch against the bag. With every hit, he grunts. Sweat drips down his face, soaking his thin cut-off cotton t-shirt.
“I don’t owe you or him anything. He got himself into this mess, and it’s not really any of your fucking business what happened between us. My anger with my brother is mine alone, and just because you’re riding his dick doesn’t mean I have to tell you a fucking thing,” he snarls, not even looking up from the sandbag.
I blink, taken aback by his rudeness. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, not after hearing him talk just a short time ago, but I am. He’s so cruel, violent, and uncaring. It oozes from every pore of his body.
“Well, I don’t care to know what happened between you two. I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t your brother’s fault. I begged him to help me get out of there, so if you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me.”
I cross my arms over my chest as he lands another punch on the sandbag before stepping away from it and looking up at me. His eyes are a blue-gray that pierce straight through me, holding me in place. In a flash, he’s in front of me, anger marring his features. He might be handsome if it weren’t for the permanent scowl on his face.
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I was mad at my brother long before you came the fuck along, so while it’s heartwarming that you give a shit about that bastard, don’t try and fix something that was broken a long fucking time ago. This ain’t about you, or what he did for you. This is about him.” He turns, giving me his back, but I’m not done. Now that I know Ivan is going to be okay, I want to make sure everything else is, too. And that includes whatever is going on between the two of them.
“Is it about what happened to Mira?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret speaking them.
Roman stops dead in his tracks and turns to look at me. Fury flickers in his eyes, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“What did you say?” He closes the distance between us with one large stride and before I have the chance to backpedal away from him, his hands are on me, his fingers biting into the flesh of my arms, holding me in place.
“Don’t say her fucking name,” he growls in my face so closely I can feel his hot breath on my skin. He’s terrifying now, his body looming over mine, sucking the air straight from my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, and he releases me with a shove that sends me stumbling backward and away from him.
“Don’t bring up shit you know nothing about. Now get the fuck out of my face before I do something my brother won’t forgive me for.”
I turn around and run back into the medical room with tears glistening in my eyes. I try and hold them back, but I can’t. I can’t believe this man is Ivan’s brother. This cold-hearted bastard. Ivan is alone in the room when I enter, the other two guys having vanished. I walk over to the side of the bed and clutch onto his hand, needing his closeness. I never should’ve gone out there and tried to talk to Roman.
“What did Roman say to you?”
“Basically, he isn’t going to help us. What are we going to do now? Where are we going to go? We don’t even have a car anymore.” Tears start to spill over my lids and run down my cheeks.
“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry, Kitten. Just let me rest for a few more hours, and we’ll go somewhere.” His eyes drift closed, and I know he needs to sleep. There is no way he can get up and walk around right now, not after having a bullet taken out of him. I stand aimlessly beside the bed and hold onto his hand until my legs hurt, then I move and sit down on the floor next to the bed. I can only assume it’s late outside. Ivan hasn’t woken up again, thankfully, because god knows he needs to rest. I wring my hands together, thinking of what is going to happen next. We’ve survived all of this, which is better than being dead. My thoughts are interrupted, and my head snaps up when a large figure suddenly appears in the doorway. My heart races impossibly fast in my chest. What is he doing here? Did he come back to argue? To hurt me?
“Time to go,” Roman barks. “I’m closing up the gym, and I need you out of here like five minutes ago.”
Ivan stirs beside me, and I get to my feet quickly.
His eyes blink open slowly and a small smile tugs at his lips when he sees me. I want to return the smile but can’t manage to even make one with Roman in the room.
“I don’t have all night.” Roman sounds inpatient and unsympathetic.
Ivan sits up with a pained grunt, holding his stomach. I try to help him up as much as I can, but he is just too fucking heavy. He’s like moving a brick building. It takes him a minute, but he finally gets on his feet, steadier than I expected him to be. He starts walking out the door, pulling me into his side. Roman follows behind us and once we are out the front door, he closes it and takes out a pair of keys, locking the doors.
“Well, now that I’ve saved your life yet-a-fucking-again, you can be on your merry way. I don’t really give a fuck what you plan to do. Just don’t die in front of my gym. It’s bad for business,” Roman says without a trace of emotion. He starts to walk away from us. He’s just walking away. I can’t believe him.
How can you be so cold toward your own family?
The way he’s acting toward Ivan right now really makes me miss my sister. We’d never treat each other this way, no matter how angry we were at each other.
“There is a little motel not far from here, let’s just go there,” Ivan whispers down at me and starts walking. I wrap an arm around him and attempt to hold some of his weight but he’s heavy, too heavy for my weak body. We only take about three more steps before he starts to sway, his body leaning into mine more. I’m trying my best to hold him up, but his strength is withering away with each step.
He leans off of me and against the building. His chest heaves, and his eyes drift closed for a second. I wish I could help him more, I wish I was stronger, and that we were back at our little house, and that he never got shot.
A car passes us and then suddenly stops a little way down the road. Ivan’s leaning against the wall, with his eyes closed, so he probably doesn’t see it, but panic pulses in my veins when the car makes a full U-turn in the middle of the road and starts heading back our way again. It’s a blacked-out SUV, and I can’t see who is inside because of the heavily tinted windows.
Oh, god, more of Rossi’s men.
I’m damn near hyperventilating when the car pulls up right next to us on the curb. I put Ivan’s arm around my shoulder and try to get him to walk away with me, but he just grunts. His eyes are still closed, and he’s not moving. Oh, god... we’re going to die. Ivan’s going to die, and all of this is going to have been for nothing. Air fills my lungs, but I forget to exhale…
The driver’s side door opens a moment later, and Roman’s brooding face appears in front of us.
“Fucking Christ, get in the damn car,” he grumbles, pulling me away from Ivan by the arm. Then he starts to half carry his brother to the back seat, leaving me standing there, still recovering from the panic attack he just gave me.
“Get in or I’ll leave your ass here,” Roman yells, and my heart jumpstarts, pounding furiously against my ribcage. Not wanting to test him, and knowing he most likely will leave me here, I run around the car and get into the back seat on the driver’s side. Ivan is already laying across the bench, and I lift his head, slipping into the seat, resting it against my thigh.
Roman slips into the front seat and turns around in his seat. “Don’t do anything stupid, keep your mouth shut, and don’t ask any questions. You do those things and we won’t have any problems.”
I gulp and nod, running my fingers through Ivan’s thick unruly locks to calm myself. I’ve met a lot of scary men in the last month or so, but Roman is probably the scariest in my book, and all because I don’t know what he will do next. He’s hot and cold. He says one thing and does another. At least with the other bad men, I knew they were mad and always would be.
He’s Ivan’s opposite in every way possible, and I wonder how that happened? Is Ivan really this dark and moody? Or is there something deeper going on inside Roman? When the SUV starts moving, Ivan groans, holding a hand to the wound on his stomach.
I barely look out the window to see where we are driving. Instead, I keep my eyes on Ivan, making sure he is okay. Only when we come to a stop do I look up and realize we are in front of a house. No, not a house, a fucking mansion. Even in the dark, I can see how huge the place is.
“Is this your…” I get out before Roman twists around in his seat, his glare stopping the rest of the words from escaping my lips. I’m reminded of the no question rule then and I squeeze my lips together tightly. I don’t want to find out what he will do if I don’t listen to him. With Ivan injured and barely clinging to life, all I have is Roman and the help he’s offering me.
We get out of the car in silence. Roman helps Ivan out of the car and up the walkway, into the house. I follow behind them like a lost puppy. I can’t stop my eyes taking in the house. It’s simple, but unlike anything I’ve seen before. Sleek and manly.
He takes us down a long hall with numerous doors and stops at one at the very end of the hall. He opens the door with the flick of his wrist and deposits Ivan on the king-sized bed.
Then he turns around to face me. “You can stay here until he is healed up enough to move around on his own but then I want you two out of my house and out of my fucking life. Got it?” The look in Roman’s eyes tells me not to test him. He’s like a feral dog, ready to bite at any given second.
I just respond with a nod, too scared that talking may set him off. A thank you sits on the tip of my tongue, but I keep it there. There isn’t any point in thanking him, not when it’s obvious he doesn’t want us here. He leaves the room a moment later, slamming the door closed behind him.
I slip out of my shoes and then pull Ivan’s boots off of him. Exhausted from everything that has happened today, I lay down on the bed next to him and let my eyes drift closed. I take one of Ivan’s hands into mine and cuddle into his side. I don’t know what we are going to do next but at least we are safe, and at least we have each other.
That’s all that matters now.
Chapter Eighteen
Ivan
I blink my eyes open slowly. It’s hard, really fucking hard, but I do it. My lungs burn and my body aches like I got hit with a goddamn truck as I try and sit up. Fuck, Luca really got a good shot on me. At least the fucker is dead now. All I need is this fucking bullet wound to heal, and I’ll be back to my normal self and out of my brother’s hair.
A thought slams into my gut and instantly, I’m on high alert.
Violet. Where is my Violet?
Blood pounds in my ears as I sit up faster than necessary. I feel the wound in my side throbbing, but I don’t care. The only thing that matters is my Violet. As my gaze sweeps around the room, I notice the tiny sleeping body next to me, and the even tinier hand in mine. Sleeping. Beside me. She’s sleeping, and she’s safe.
Thank fuck. I stare down at her sleeping form, her beautiful face painted in peace, her soft blond hair half covering her face, hiding her angelic features. She’s so fucking perfect, too perfect even. My cock hardens as I stare at her. Shit, the last thing I need to be doing right now is screwing her.
I sigh, leaning back against the headboard, moving my eyes to anything else in the room to distract myself. This was the last fucking place I wanted to bring her. I shake my head, thinking of the way Roman treated her last night. I can’t imagine what he said to her when I was in and out of consciousness. He’s an asshole, an epic one. His anger and hate for me radiates over into everything in his life.
He’s just never faced the anger, found someone to push him over the edge. Someday, he’ll fall in love and find someone to make all that pain go away. I know it. He’s still worthy of something good in life.
I release Violet’s hand and scoot toward the edge of the bed, hissing through my teeth as pain radiates throughout my body. I’m at the very edge of the bed when the bedroom door bursts open, slamming against the wall behind it.
Roman’s eyes are filled to the brim with fury. Does he eat fucking fire for breakfast or som
ething? Why the hell is he so angry all the time?
You, I remind myself. I am the reason he is angry all the time.
“One fucking time. One fucking time I help you and you pull me into this shit storm of your life.” He clenches his fists at his sides, standing just inside the bedroom. My own anger starts to take root hearing how loud and uncaring he is to Violet, who is still sleeping.
“Can you be quiet? She’s still sleeping.”
Roman’s eyes move to Violet’s sleeping form behind me, a snarl pulling at his lips, his voice still loud and ringing throughout the room.
“You think saving her made up for what you did?”
I roll my eyes, attempting to get out of the bed. This is the last thing I want to be discussing with him right now. When I don’t say anything else, that seems to egg him on more.
He huffs out a laugh, looking as if he’s ready to slug me in the face, “Saving her didn’t fucking bring our sister back. It didn’t make me forget what a piece of shit you were for leaving me behind while you went and did some illegal shit. Not that it matters anyway.” He smiles. “I’ve got my own illegal business going on, all without you. I’ve made a name for myself all on my own.”
I sigh, the sting of pain in my side subsiding when I finally land both feet on the floor. I remind myself that I need to go slow. I need this bastard of a wound to heal so I can protect Violet and get us out of here.
“Good, I’m happy for you. As soon as I’m healed up, I’ll be out of your hair, and you can go back to hating me.”
Roman doesn’t like my response and crowds me, his chest pushing against mine. He wants to fight me, he wants to show me every single ounce of anger inside of him, but he won’t, because that’d be showing me emotion. If I know anything about my brother, it’s that he doesn’t want anyone to know what’s going on inside of his fucked-up head.
“Looks like you are well enough to stand, so why don’t you take your bitch and leave now?”
Forgetting the bullet wound that’s throbbing in my side, I shove Roman backward and out of the room until we are in the hallway. Pain shoots through me with every move I make but instead of trying to tolerate it, trying to push it down, I let it fuel me. Fuel the anger vibrating deep inside of me.
