The Syndicates: A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Raven Scott

  Navigating my way through the swirling lights and waves of music rippling through the air, I held my breath against the reeking stench of booze. That was the one thing that never got better depending on how busy the place was— the very concrete foundation of this club was saturated in alcohol.

  Peeling back the curtain of the private booth, I slapped an automatic smile on my face before setting eyes on the guy sitting on the bench. Prickles ripped up my spine, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my wide pupils met familiar, narrowed ones.

  Theo propped his head against the wall on his forearm, and I blinked hard as he scanned my body leisurely. Sucking in a sharp breath, my heart thundered hard as apprehension flooded my bloodstream, and my legs ached even as I forced them to bend.

  This time, I wasn’t going to say anything— not a single peep. Not one verbal acknowledgment.

  Repeating the mantra over and over again in my head, I walked over to Theo to stand between his spread knees with reluctance clawing at my throat. I’d just do the dance, get my tip, and when the two minutes was over, I’d leave. No doubt, it’d be the longest two minutes of my life.

  “Illya.” Grabbing my hips, Theo sat me on his lap with a harsh tug, and I tensed as shooting pain rippled up my chest from where he’d stretched my skin. Holding my breath in fiery lungs, I closed my eyes briefly as I fought a wince, but if he noticed, he didn’t react in any way. “You have something of mine.”

  Don’t say anything. Just don’t say anything. Grinding my teeth as I reached to pry his fingers from my waist, I couldn’t hear the music over the blood drumming my ears. Theo tightened his grip, and my face grew hot as pin needles stabbed up my ribs.

  “You’re not getting away so easy this time.” Even through the bandages, the thick fabric of my leotard, I could feel Theo’s nails trying to dig. Did he even realize how hard he was holding me? A choke of a sob escaped me when the pain became unbearable, and I covered my mouth with my free hand as shallow, quick breaths dried my throat. “I think it’s about time we had a ch— ”

  “That hurts!” My voice cracked harshly when I couldn’t keep my high-pitched squeal behind the lump in my throat, and Theo’s grip on my side suddenly eased. Standing up, I pushed open the curtain and ran for the front doors, shoving my way through the crowd, but the jostling only intensified the burning pain.

  “Oh, my God . . . oh, God . . . ” I was on fire all over again, and I burst through the heavy, metal barriers to lean on the brick wall. Gasping, shallow breaths barely eased the screaming need of my lungs, and I held a clammy, trembling palm to my side. “Ow . . . oh . . . ”

  My whole torso was tight, straining, sending bristling needle-like pain through me as my ruined skin spasmed and twitched. I couldn’t breathe enough, and black spots dotted my vision as I leaned heavily against the cooling bricks. The lights of the parking lot stretched up my legs and seeped through my shuttered lids, and a hard sob clogged my throat.

  But, if I cried, the pain would get worse. I was an ugly, none-too-gentle crier.

  Tiny, strangled whimpers slithered past the dense lump in my throat, and I hiccupped a ragged breath as I tried not to move. Goosebumps washed my arms and legs under my stockings and bodysuit, and a pained gasp escaped me when a mangled hand pressed against my shoulder blade. My eyes flickered over my shoulder, and Theo’s form was blurred by tears and my contacts as they misaligned with my actual pupil.

  Clenching my jaw hard, a sharp hiss burst from my throat when my breasts tightened, a powerful ripple shoot down my front. Even at my face and neck, my skin pulled taut, and I braced my forearm against the wall to bury my face in my elbow.

  “You shouldn’t have skipped PT, Illya.” Hot tears leaked down my face, and a bark of some sort of noise rattled my ribs at Theo’s solemn declaration. Tensing and releasing my entire body, I took ragged breaths through my nose, and he sort of stood behind me awkwardly holding my shoulder. “Is it a bullet hole? Those suck.”

  “Oh, my God, will you just . . . just . . . just not say anything.” Sputtering harshly, a whimper cut me off when my voice scratched my throat, and I dug my forehead into my arm. “Why . . . why are you ev-even here?”

  “I wanted to make sure you got home, but you weren’t there after I finished dropping off the drugged-out bitch.” Yeah, because I didn’t get home until almost seven, when I was supposed to already be at work. Bitterness soured my tongue, and I sucked in a shallow breath through flared nostrils as Theo’s eyes dug holes into the back of my head. “I guess you got me back for that can of corn.”

  “It’s not a bullet hole. What do you want? I have your phone in the back.”

  “I already have a new one. Keep it. Pawn it. I don’t really give a fuck.” Cutting me off, Theo gingerly nudged my shoulder, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my stinging eyes. “You have a really low pain tolerance, don’t you, Illya?”

  My eyelid twitched in agitation, and I hoovered up a breath before turning around. Theo looked concerned enough, a scowl on his face, and I held out my palm as my own scowl started to form. I was so damn done with this day.

  “Give me all the money in your pockets.” The scar on his face played in surprise, and Theo’s brows rose even as he reached into his jeans. Holding out my hand, unabashed, I clenched and released my jaw as fire engulfed my chest. My breasts ached fiercely, and I started tapping my foot as I watched him through narrowed pupils. He slapped at least a grand in fifty-dollar bills into my palm, and I pursed my lips and shot him a nasty glare.

  “Fuck . . . fine.” Theo’s tone was snippy, but he easily reached into his other front pocket with his mangled hand. Pulling out a roll of cash, he sneered at me, and I clutched the money in my fists. “What?”

  “Congratulations, Theo, you get what you wanted. You’re gonna drive me home. I hope you’re happy.” I couldn’t ride my bike like this, and, for the first time, I snarled at him with all the venom I’d been holding in. The shadows on his face darkened, and I pointed at my bike chained to the railing stiffly. “Put my bike in your car while I go get my stuff.”

  Turning on my heel, I wobbled a little as my inertia swiveled my brain, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet. The door swung open, and I shivered in relief because I probably couldn’t open it out by myself. Slipping past two, totally sloshed dudes, I shook my head viciously on my way to Roge’s office.

  11

  Theo

  I fucked up. I realized that. I accepted that responsibility. I should’ve heeded the signs and not touched the strippers. I probably should’ve just not gone to the club in the first place.

  “I’m— ”

  “Don’t. Don’t say a fucking word.” Out of the corner of my eye, Illya’s hand flexed against the center console, and I clenched my jaw hard. I didn’t think I’d grabbed her that hard. Maybe I just touched a bad spot? Blowing out a haggard breath, she held herself up off the seat, on her arms, and guilt clawed at my throat. “Just drive.”

  Illya was drenched in sweat that seeped through her leotard and shimmered on her face with each passing street lamp. The tables had turned, and I imagined that this ugly feeling in my chest was a more intense version of what she’d felt when my hand decided to try to twist off my wrist. Frowning as I gripped the wheel tightly with my good hand, I curled my right in my lap, and the silence rang shrilly in the confines of my car.

  “I can’t believe you. Why can’t you just leave me alone already? You got Sylvie.” She grumbled more to herself than me, but Illya’s complaining was overly loud in such a quiet space. A scowl fixed on my face at the mention of that bitch. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since we picked her up, but she was already going fucking crazy. “And you called me a pain.”

  “Do you want me to take you to the hospital or something?” I didn’t know what else to offer, or what to say, and Illya shook her head viciously as she sucked in a shallow breath. “I already said I wanted to make sure you got home safe, but you weren’t there, so I
came here.”

  “I was an hour late and now I had to leave early because of you, Theo.” She spit the reply like a viper, and I ground my teeth as irritation swept through me. “I don’t have the— the luxury of missing all those tips. You’re not doing me a favor.”

  “Then why are you making me drive you home if you don’t want me around?” I drove under fifteen miles per hour, barely walking pace, and she shot me the nastiest glare. Scowling darkly, my eyelid twitched in agitation, and I glanced in the rearview mirror at her bike in my back seat. “You have your bike.”

  “I can’t fucking ride it right now.” She hissed when she twisted her head too far, and guilt started to leak into my lungs. “You need to leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with Sylvie or Mateo or anything about that. I don’t care. I don’t want updates. I want to move on with my shitty life without worrying about being dragged into this shit again.”

  “Illya.” Her arms shook from her effort, and I propped the wheel with my knee to rub my face in frustration. “Mateo doesn’t know you’re Sylvie's roommate. I didn’t tell him.”

  My grumble earned me surprised silence, and I ran my fingers through my hair absently as my mind whirred furiously. How the fuck was I supposed to make this better? I was doing all I could to keep Illya out of Mateo’s sights, and it wasn’t all that difficult because he only cared about his baby, but . . .

  “Why didn’t you?” Licking my teeth as I gripped the wheel again, I slowly eased into a wide turn, and Illya’s question bounced around in my skull. Why hadn’t I? After all, I would’ve made my work easier if I’d told Mateo what I knew. Glancing at her, with her pained, pale features and the muscles straining in her neck and shoulders, I pursed my lips thinly.

  “If I told him, he’d probably nab you and hold you hostage with Sylvie. I don’t want that. Mateo’s my boss, but I wouldn’t spend time with him if he didn’t pay me a huge chunk of change.” She winced at my confession, and I reached with my mangled hand to cover her palm on the center console. Her fingers were ice cold and trembling, and I rubbed the top of her hand with my thumb. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Illya.”

  “I bet you didn’t, but it still happened.” Graveness dragged down the corners of my mouth, and she sniffed hard from the passenger seat. “Listen, okay, I really, really don’t need this right now, okay? I’m dealing with my own shit, and I’m not particularly keen on looking over my shoulder forever, so just . . . just ignore me, and I’m going to forget this ever fucking happened.”

  For what was probably a good reason, I just kept my mouth shut. I had a feeling Illya didn’t care what I said in this moment. She just wanted to get home and not be in such horrible pain. I understood that, at least. Not to mention that I kept fucking up every time I saw her, and our past encounters weren’t exactly in my favor right now.

  Illya was beautiful with her long face and slender form and nice, tight ass and her perky tits, but the more I learned about her, however begrudging, the stronger she seemed, too. She was the girl that beat the odds, and I thought that was sexier than her body. Casting her a sidelong look, I scanned her haggard face and the thick bead of sweat trickling down her jawline.

  “Do you want to stop and— ”

  “No, damnit! I want to go home!” Screeching at me, Illya slammed her fist into the dashboard, and her palm slipped out from under mine. Sitting in the seat fully, tears rolled down her cheeks in frustration and pain, and I trained my gaze on the road. “Take me home! Take me home now!”

  My face heated as she cried quietly in the passenger seat, and my knee bounced wildly from the tension gorging my muscles. I couldn’t get a read on her. Was she headstrong or a little weak-minded? Would she stab me in a fight or run away? An ugly, black blotch spread across my chest as her sniffles echoed against the windows, and I flexed my fingers against the wheel.

  The minutes ticked by into arduous infinity before I pulled up in front of her disgusting apartment building, but Illya didn’t get out of the car. She looked kind of green when I turned on the overhead light, like she was in so much pain she was going to throw up. Her face was ghostly pale, her glazed eyes unfocused under heavy lids, and I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

  Leaving my car running, I climbed out of the driver’s side and pulled open the back door. Hoisting Illya’s bike out of my car, I left the busted lock and chain on the seat before heading for the building. My chest tightened with regret. I should’ve left her alone like she wanted.

  What was I even doing? The thought had no answer I carried her bike up the stairs to her apartment door. I couldn’t remember the last woman I’d been with. It must’ve been when I was in Italy, and that was over ten years ago. With my deployments and my hand and all my drama, I’d just . . . No one wants to deal with a disabled veteran.

  Illya was the first person in a long, long time that hadn’t stared at my hand like it belonged in a grotesque museum. Maybe that was why I was so fixated on her.

  Propping her bike against her door, I took the stairs again, and Illya was struggling to get out of the passenger seat. My heart jumped into my throat at the tortured shadows playing on her face, and I fast-walked to pick her up. Her gasp sucked the heat from my neck and face, but some of the tension in her eased as I hooked my arm under her knees.

  “Don’t scare me like that. What if you fell?” My growl didn’t provoke a response, and I scanned Illya before realization slammed into my gut. “Where’s your stupid fanny pack thing?”

  “Huh?” She slurred heavily, and a single glance at Illya’s face told me she was on the verge of passing out. Her head flopped back only to jerk up with a pained gasp breaching her lips, and she tensed in my arms. Kicking the door shut, I ignored my own question for now as I carried her into the building and up the stairs. For once, I was glad my fingers got shredded and not my leg.

  I wasn’t a dumbass. Every single important thing Illya owned could fit into that stupid fanny pack, which probably included her keys. Reaching the top of the stairs, I strode down the hallway towards her door, and I paused in front of it as my mind whirled. The first time I’d been here, I’d picked the locks, but I didn’t exactly have that option.

  “Fuck it.” Tightening my grip on Illya’s firm body, I grabbed the knob with my bad hand and shoved my shoulder into the door. Jerking the knob to jar the door up, a grunt escaped me as the door gave way with a sharp splinter from the frame. “Fuck.”

  Nothing had changed about Illya’s apartment since I’d last been here except for the fact that one of the cots was folded up on the floor. Somehow, she was still away, and I sat her down on the open cot before she lifted her hand up to push my face weakly.

  “Go away. I ne-never want to see . . . see you again.” Her slow sputtering stung, but she laid down very carefully to turn away from me. Tears and sweat soaked her hair, and streams of green dripped down her neck and stained her shirt. Standing up straight, I clenched and released my good hand by my side as I debated what to do.

  Not that any of my attempts to not fuck up have succeeded. Rubbing the back of my head and neck, I inhaled a deep, calming breath and took a step back. Gazing at her as she writhed on her cot, her neck craned hard, eyes squeezed in pain, I covered my mouth to hide my scowl. She’s got every right not to want to see me again.

  “Damn.”

  12

  Illya

  My eyelids popped open, and the fine hairs on my face bristled with the sensation of being watched. Grogginess slowed my mind, and I flung my arm over my eyes to block out the weak sunlight that streamed through where the curtains didn’t cover. Lead enveloped my muscles, and my lungs struggled to fill as I took a deep breath.

  “I told you to go away, Theo.” I was so damn tired of this guy, and I tossed my head to the side to frown. Theo sat on the other cot, shoulders hunched, like a tiger ready to pounce, and he matched my expression with furrowed brows. “Why won’t you just go away? I had to leave work because you hurt me, and you did
that creepy thing when you washed my hands after we found Sylvie. Are you just not making the connection? I want you to leave me alone.”

  “We found your friend in a heroin den, and I could tell how skeeved out you were.” His gruff reply sent a spasm of irritation through my cheek, and I braced my hands on the metal support bars of the cot to gingerly sit up. Sucking in a sharp breath when my bandages rubbed my skin raw, I glanced down to find myself stilly fully clothed. Surprise bubbled up in my chest, and I pursed my lips thinly as my gaze flickered to Theo. “I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

  Scowling darkly, I opened my mouth to tell Theo to fuck off, but my words dried at the sharp glare he shot me. Clamping my mouth shut to grind my teeth, my stomach grumbled with need, and I exhaled slowly before forcing myself to nod a jerk of my chin. He stood up, and on my cot, it almost looked like his head would bash into the ceiling, he was so tall and broad.

  “Let’s go.” Throwing my legs over the side of the cot, I winced as I stood up myself, the tender skin on my chest pulling taut. Holding up my hand to stop Theo, I struggled not to run my fingers through my hair.

  “Hold on. I have to wash my hair. I’m not supposed to have the dye in for more than six hours. What time is it?” Curiosity mingled with annoyance and impatience on Theo’s face as he pulled a brand-spankin’-new phone out of his jean pocket.

  “Nine-twenty-two in the morning.” My eyes widened, and an almost amused smirk played on his hard, jagged features. “Not used to being up so early?”

  “Um . . . no.” I tore my eyes off him to grab my blanket in an attempt to fold it, but the whole top half of the cot was covered in green dye. Blinking hard, I scrunched up my face at the fact that I’d have to spend money unnecessarily. “Damn.”