The Collector: A Dark Russian Mafia Romance (The Cells of Kalashov Book 1)

by Vi Carter

  I don’t look at The Collector as he cuffs me to the radiator. I don’t make a sound and neither does he, but when the cuffs are back on my wrist, he still doesn’t move. I dare take a peek at him. Dark eyes send my stomach fluttering. His hand reaches out and gently touches my bruised face. His jaw tightens and he stands, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

  I expect my mind to go to the mill, it’s what’s haunted me for the last six years. My mind doesn’t go further back. Strobe lights from the club bounce off Eric as he dances. He sticks his tongue out at me and I’m running through the crowd. He follows me as I knew he would. We break through and end up outside, rain pelts down but we don’t care. There are no boundaries when I’m with Eric. I’m free to do what I want. He is the air that my family refused to give me. His laughter is poured into the night sky before he looks around him. His blue eyes twinkle and I know we are about to do something crazy. His large hand wraps around my small one and we are running down the small street. Eric looks at me again and his smile is infectious.

  “What are we doing?” I ask through my smile. I don’t care. I’d follow him off a cliff. He knew that. He stops at a Porsche and his elbow smashes into the glass. The alarm sounds and deep down I know this isn’t right. We could get into serious trouble. He pulls the door open and jumps in, but I’m staring at his blond head.

  “Get in, Mila.” His voice is alarmed, I can hear the sirens in the distance. I jump in and he gets the car started. The rush as we tear through the small streets has me screaming in joy. Eric blares the music and both of us are lost in the thrill of the moment. Both of us are high on adrenaline.

  “Oh fuck.”

  I glance out the back window to see four squad cars following us. I’m laughing. I’m dead if they catch us. My laughter has Eric laughing too and we are moving faster, everything is blurring around me and I want to hang out the window and let the wind whip past me. I want to fly. I want to be free.

  My heart roars as I wake up from the memory. The room is dark and I’m searching the space for Eric’s blue eyes. They were so alive, so vibrant. I squeeze my eyes and his face dissolves. Tears burn my throat and I curl closer to the radiator. The vodka still burns through my veins and sends me into another sleep that’s quiet this time.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NICHOLAI

  I wake up to a noise in the house. I can’t figure out exactly what it is, but I know it doesn’t belong. I had slept above the covers. Oleg’s words that he would see us again, had kept me vigilant. I’m mentally checking myself. I have my gun strapped to my ankle. The throwing knives on my wrists are there. Opening the top drawer of my bedside table, I remove another gun and click off the safety.

  The house is dark and I pause in the hall and take out my phone. Mila is still in the sitting room. Her dot is unmoving. That gives me some ease. I move to the edge of the wall and peek out across the stairs. The hall is silent. I close my eyes and listen again.

  Someone is in the house. They are downstairs. The sound comes from the back of the house. I move down the stairs soundlessly. Opening the door, I need to confirm what my phone told me, Mila is still tied to the radiator. She’s asleep. Her chest rises and falls. I pull the door closed and release a knife as a shadow skitters across the hall.

  The scream is instant and I withdraw my gun as I zigzag down the hall. I reach the man who’s coated in black. He’s trying to pull the knife from his shoulder. I cock the gun at his head and he freezes.

  “Are you alone?” I’m looking all around me.

  “Yes.” The lie has me moving quickly, as the attack comes from behind me. A second man, also dressed in black. I remove the second knife and swipe quickly. He freezes, but I felt the contact. He gargles as his hands reach for his open throat. It only takes three more seconds until he hits the ground.

  “Are you alone?” I ask again.

  “I am now.”

  He was telling the truth. “Who sent you?”

  He’s wearing a balaclava. I want to see the man’s face who broke into my home and tried to kill me. He moves quicker than expected. The gun appears and I kick it out of his hand. It hits the floor with a thud but doesn’t fire. I spin him, wrapping my arm around his neck. His fists swing back but I tighten my hold on him, he keeps fighting, but it dwindles. I release him and his dead body hits the floor.

  Moving quickly back to the sitting-room door, I open it. Mila is still asleep. I didn’t want the bugs to pick up on the noise. My first thought was that Oleg sent them. I wasn’t sure if it was to kill me or Mila, but either way, both men now lay dead in my hallway.

  I search the remainder of the house. It’s clear. The backdoor is open. It was a simple job. They picked the locks. I check the camera outside for the gates that are still closed. They scaled the walls. I never had a security system installed. I never had to. No one was stupid enough to come to my home—that was, until now.

  I check both bodies for IDs but they aren’t carrying anything. After that, I examine their bodies for markings. They both have tattoos, but none that are significant. Blood pools in the hall. I pull my knife from the shoulder of the man I strangled, before getting plastic and wrapping both bodies. Once I have them tied, I drag them into the garage and heave both of them into the trunk of my car.

  This time when I check on Mila, she’s awake. The sun has started to rise, casting shadows on her face. I nod at her and she nods back. I hate closing the door, but I can’t go near her until tonight. It takes a few attempts to get the blood off my floor, but I finally do.

  I don’t want to leave Mila, but I can’t imagine whoever sent these men would send more so soon. Leaving now would be wiser than later.

  I drive out as far as the can. It’s barren out here. Placing both bodies on the ground, I douse them in petrol before dropping a match. They go up in flames straight away. Would Oleg have sent them? I had no idea why he would want me dead. Killing off Mila might make sense since she knew something. She was hiding something. Tonight, I needed her to trust me. I needed to find out what secret this girl carried.

  I return to the house and shower before eating. I replace the locks and go back upstairs to sleep the day away. I lie on the covers again. My guns are ready. Checking my phone before I fall asleep, I make sure Mila is where she should be. She is.

  ***

  She eats all the spaghetti on her plate and when she finally looks up at me, her cheeks grow red. “I’m hungry.” She tries to explain away her empty plate.

  “You want more?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I could use some of that vodka.”

  I didn't want her to get drunk but I could understand the appeal, especially if she had never drank before. It numbed a lot of the pain this world threw at us. I get two shot glasses and fill both of them as I return to the table.

  The glass touches the table when she reaches out and knocks it back. Her face scrunches up as she swallows the liquid.

  “I’ll have another.”

  I hesitate but fill the glass. I didn't want her drunk.

  “Two men broke into the house last night,” I told her and drank the shot. I’m watching her more carefully than I ever have.

  “What? Did they steal anything?” She blinks several times.

  “They came to kill me, or maybe you.”

  Her nostrils flare as she scrambles for air while shaking her head. “Me? But!” She stutters and looks away.

  “I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m up against.”

  Her gaze springs to me. “Help me?” She shakes her head again, but hope blossoms in her blue eyes. “I don’t know anyone who would want me dead.”

  The lie has me refilling my glass. I was getting nowhere with her. I’m staring at her, wondering when she will crack, but she stares right back.

  “Let’s go for a drive.”

  Her eyes widen and she stands up at the idea of getting out. I give her the shoes she arrived in and a pair of my socks. Handing her one of my jack
ets that she drowns in, we leave the house. I keep taking peeks at her as she watches the world move past. It’s pitch black, but she’s staring up at the sky, it's dotted with stars.

  I drive into the city and the light pours from windows and flashing neon signs. I drive past Gail’s and keep moving through the city.

  “Where are we going?” It’s the first time she asked the question.

  “I want to show you something.” I hoped it would help her open up a bit more. I leave the city behind and keep driving as the landscape grows barren until we pull up at the can. The ground is scorched from burning the bodies. It’s a pile of ashes.

  “Stay in the car,” I tell her as I get out and take a shovel from the boot. I dig a large hole to the left of the scorched ground and scoop in all the ashes and remains of the bodies. Digging up the burnt soil, I turn it. When I feel satisfied, I return the shovel to the car before moving to the passenger door. Mila swallows when I open it.

  “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Her fingers tighten around the belt. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “No. I want to show you where I drop people off.” I reach in and relish the smell of her. It’s my shower gel, but underneath it is something sweet, like vanilla. I unclip her belt and I don’t want to lean out. I inhale before I do.

  She gets out hesitantly and follows me over to the can. I open the door and she doesn’t step closer.

  “Look in, Mila.” The pulse in her neck pounds, but she steps up to the door and peeks in before quickly moving back, like I might push her in.

  “I drop the people off here. They wait until they are collected. It could be hours or even days. Can you imagine waiting in that small cell?”

  “Why are you showing me this?” Her voice wavers.

  “Because this is your fate.” She shakes her head like she might be able to change it.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this. Let me help you.”

  She laughs. “You want to help me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  It was a good question. Why did I feel this need to save her? “If you want to end up in the can, then that’s fine, Mila.”

  I’m ready to walk away, but she doesn’t follow.

  “Even if I told you, you can’t protect me.” She sounds so defeated and I pause before turning back to her.

  “Try me.” I start to walk back to her, but I see in her eyes she’s not ready to talk.

  “Oleg…” She swallows and looks away. “Just take me back to the house.”

  Disappointment and frustration course through me and I laugh at her.

  “You were right,” I say with a smirk.

  “What?” She’s shaking as she wraps her arms across her chest.

  “I wish you were stronger too.” She is strong, but if I poked she might crack. She doesn’t, as she walks back to the car, keeping her secrets firmly against her chest.

  MILA

  I glance at the freshly turned soil and wonder exactly what he was covering up. There is a smell in the air that makes my stomach turn. I’ve smelt it before. Burnt flesh.

  I get into the car and The Collector gets in and starts the engine. Telling him about Oleg wouldn’t do me any good. The more The Collector knows, the further he would run from me. I could lie, tell him I was a mill girl who escaped, but he could see through my lies. I thought of telling him about what I saw Oleg do, but that wouldn’t solve this problem. He couldn’t stop this. No one could. I try to take in the city as we move past it. There is something beautiful about the night time. It always made me believe that anything was possible. Eric made me feel that way. Like we could jump from a cliff and land on our feet. I glance at The Collector. His hands are tight around the steering wheel. I have no idea if he was really trying to help me, or maybe Oleg was testing me to see if I would tell The Collector. They could be working together. That seemed far more likely than the fantasy that he was trying to save me from the bad man.

  “Can we walk around the city?” I ask, not expecting it to happen. The car slows down under us and The Collector pulls up along some run-down buildings. His Audi looks out of place here, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  We get out and walk towards the more lit up part of the city.

  “Do you have siblings?” I ask him.

  He stuffs his hands in his trouser pockets. “Why do you always wear a suit?” I fire. He looks handsome, but I’ve only ever once seen him in formal clothes.

  “I’m always on the clock so I’m ready for work and no, I don’t have any siblings.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. Always on the clock. Had he no personal life? The Collector was a mystery to most people. I always saw him as someone ruthless and uncaring. The sad reality was, that it wasn't the man who was walking beside me.

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?” I ask.

  His smirk has my face growing warm. “No.” He’s looking at me from the corner of his eye and heat races down my chest.

  I don't like the idea of any other woman touching him, and the jealousy that courses through me makes me stumble.

  He pauses. “Are you okay?”

  He seems so sincere. What if he really wanted to help me? I hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. A part of me is saying take a leap of faith. I might land on my feet. Or you could land on your ass, Mila.

  “Mila,” he says my name and it brings me back to him.

  “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Nicholai.” He offers it up.

  My stomach squirms. “Nicholai,” I repeat, and he smiles, but I don’t. I’m going to say something that I can’t take back. “I witnessed something.” His smile vanishes and his body grows tense.

  “I saw Oleg kill someone.” I’m leaning in while whispering. Fear has my heart pounding. I hope I haven’t made a mistake in sharing this with him.

  “Who?” He frowns.

  “Liddi.” Her name is painful to say. “She was a kid.” I look away from Nicholai. “I was there.”

  Nicholai’s hand touches my arm. “Was she someone important?” He asks. She was to someone, I suppose. But I knew what he was asking me. I shake my head. “No.”

  Nicholai nods and we continue to walk again. I don’t know if he can see it in my eyes, that I’m not giving up anymore. Even telling him that is dangerous. It wasn’t because Liddi was important, it was because I was.

  I glance at Nicholai.

  “Nicholai.” I try out his name again and he gives me a sidelong glance.

  “It suits you,” I finish.

  His lip tugs up and my heart races a little faster. I reach for his arm and link mine with his. He doesn’t stop me, but I’m a little unsteady right now.

  “Don’t say anything.”

  I look up at Nicholai, but he’s staring at a woman who approaches us. Her brown eyes flicker to me and I want to disappear.

  “Nicholai, how are you?” She squeezes his arm with a hand clad in red leather. I release Nicholai and I want to step away.

  “Who is this?” She’s asking while looking at me. I know how I must appear in Nicholai’s overgrown jacket. My face was bruised and swollen. “You poor child! What happened to you?”

  “What can I do for you?” Nicholai’s voice has the woman’s spine straightening and her smile slips. Perfectly arched eyebrows rise high into the air as she stares at him with a hate I’m accustomed to seeing.

  “Can’t an old friend greet another?” Her sweet voice has me tightening my fists that are hidden under the sleeves of Nicholai’s jacket.

  “I’m busy, Gail.” He turns to me and I follow him, but not before I meet Gail’s assessing eyes. She’s curious. I shiver as I pass her and follow Nicholai.

  “Who was she?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at her as she continues her walk down the street. Her red heels click along the sidewalk. She’s a very well put together woman.

  “No one.”

  Now he has my attention. “She said she wa
s a friend.” I don’t know why I’m getting jealous.

  “She lied.” He glances at me now, and I don’t like how he’s lying to me.

  “I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend,” I say offhandedly.

  Nicholai stops walking and he’s in front of me. He’s angry and I have no idea why. He looks like he has hundreds of words strung together before he dismantles them.

  “We better get back.” He jogs across the road, and I have a fleeting thought when I look down the street of running. If I ran, how far would I get?

  Not far—my brain tells me—as I follow him to the car.

  When we arrive back at the house, Nicholai tells me to wait in the car until he checks the house. He takes the keys out of the ignition, but I feel itchy sitting in a car alone. All I want to do is drive away.

  His garage is in perfect order. A shelf to the left holds three tins of paint, all front facing. Below them is a roll of plastic and to the left, a red tool box. Below it are boxes that are sealed up. That's it, the space is clear of everything else. Even his car is spotless. I glance at the door before I pop the glove compartment. I have no idea what I am looking for.

  A scream falls from my lips. Nicholai taps on the window, he’s staring straight at me. I close the glove compartment and climb out of the car. When I meet his eye, I’m tempted to apologize but I don’t. We enter the kitchen and music plays. I want to know how much time I have before I have to go back to the room.

  I want more vodka. I want to slip into that numb state where I dream, but it doesn’t tear at me. I’m about to ask when Nicholai pours out two shots. I can’t stop the smile as I shrug out of his jacket. He watches me as I walk across the space and pick up the shot. I’m ready to knock it back, but something in his eyes stops me.

  “What?” I ask. Is it poisoned?

  He takes the shot out of my hand and reaches around me, placing it on the table. He’s so close, and my body responds to his closeness. His large hand grips the back of my neck and I can’t breathe as he presses his lips to mine. His lips are warm and I open my mouth, allowing his tongue access. His hand tightens on my neck, pulling me closer. My breasts smash against his hard chest and for the first time I want to see every inch of this man. His jacket hits the floor and I easily push off his waistcoat too. He breaks the kiss and I think he’s going to stop this.