Raze & Reap (14 page)

“You will show me some fucking respect or you will force me to lift my hand and drill it into your skull.” The Pakhan didn't raise his voice, keeping cool and calm.

I'd always found the silent ones to be the most dangerous opponents.

“Do. You. Understand? This is my cage, my business, and you will fucking learn to obey me.”

Alik nodded and the Pakhan stepped back. He adjusted his coat as if nothing had happened, his blue eyes fixed on me.

“Get down here,” he demanded.

I pushed open the cage's steel door and walked over to him. His eyes assessed my every step until I stood before him, head dropped low. The Pakhan circled me, his hands testing my muscles like I was a slab of meat, and he nodded his approval.

“I liked what I saw in the cage. You'll headline, and you'll make me a lot of money.” He turned to three huge men who surrounded him, but not before he bent down to kiss Kisa. “We'll speak later.”

“Yes, Papa,” she said obediently. He then shot a dark look at Durov, who had yet to move from his position by the cage.

Within seconds, the Pakhan swept out of the gym, and Yiv shouted for everyone to get back to training. But I could smell Kisa again, her sweet scent filling my nose and hardening my dick. She hadn't moved either, her blue eyes watching mine. I could feel their heat. Her heat. Her pull on me. I flickered my eyes to her for just a second.

“Don't you fucking look at her again or I'll carve out your eyes from your skull!” Durov threatened as he brushed past me.

Durov stopped at Kisa's side and gripped her neck, Kisa crying out at his move. Every cord of muscle stiffened as he wrenched her to his chest, twisting her hair and jerking her head back as he took her mouth in his, tears of fear dropping from her eyes.

An image of a young girl being held down, crying, wandered through my mind, and a boy throwing a punch at another, protecting her, followed, but it evaporated when Alik pulled back from Kisa's mouth and he dragged her to the office by her hair, Kisa apologizing to him every step of the way until the office door shut.

My stomach clenched as a jealous rage took hold. I had to use all of my willpower not to storm into the office and rip Durov off Kisa's lips. Unable to take my stare off the office door, I heard Kisa shout out as she was slammed against the glass window, the blinds parting enough to see Durov ripping down his shorts, him licking the palm of his hand, cupping between her legs. As Durov's eyes met mine, a crazed possession shone, and he rammed his cock into Kisa, gripping her cheeks, just like the Pakhan had done to him.

I handled the venomous hate, which infused my body, but only just. Something within me snapped. The image of the young kid punching another began to feel all too real. I stepped forward, intending to rip off Durov's fucking head, when a hand landed on my arm and stopped me in my tracks.

Looking up from the stubby fingers wrapped around my wrist, I saw Viktor's scared face looking at me.

Wrenching his hand from my skin, I shoved him back until he stumbled. I towered over him and ordered, “Don't ever fucking touch me again!”

Viktor held out his palms in submission and, shifting from foot to foot, nervously signaled for me to follow him into our private training room. Without casting a glance back at the office, I followed Viktor, pacing the space of the training room as he closed the door.

“I'm going to tell you something important before you get yourself killed. Alik Durov is the heir to the Bratva, and Kisa Volkova is his fiancée, the only daughter of the Pakhan.”

Viktor's words only stoked my rage. Durov owned Kisa. She was
his
. I didn't like hearing that. Fuck, I felt murdering crazy on hearing that fact.

I wanted her. I had no reason to, had no idea who the woman was, why I was drawn to her … why she was fucking up my training, but I wanted her.

I wanted Durov's cock out of her with a fierce intensity. I was fucking beyond insane at the thought, the brief glimpse, of that cunt fucking her. Her ass belonged to me; there could be no other explanation. Her sweet scent, her beautiful face … her blue eyes called for me to protect her.

A searing, white-hot pain sliced through my head, causing my eyes to slam shut. As I tried to breathe through the pounding headache, its intensity forced me to one knee.

You have to keep away from Alik. He's obsessed with you and he's dangerous.

Sand.

Sun.

One boy.

One girl.

Feelings.

Strange feelings gripped my gut, making me feel, piercing the numbness.

Memories…?

“Raze! RAZE! Can you fucking hear me?”

Blinking hard, my vision slowly returned and I gasped. Viktor had dropped to one knee in front of me. “You okay, son?”

Breathing steadily through the now diminishing ache, I sucked in a deep breath and hissed, “I'm not your fucking son!”

“Look,” Viktor, whispered in exasperation, “stay away from Kisa. Stay away from Durov until you meet him in the cage. You don't fuck with the Volkov Bratva. All that surrounds them is death.”

Exhaling slowly, I stated, “I
am
death.”

I looked to Viktor from the corner of my eye and he paled. Then his gaze dropped to the number on my chest. My pecs tightened as if the ink were burning my skin. My head tilted to the side as I watched Viktor swallow.

“What?” I snapped and grabbed Viktor's shirt.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, a nervy edge to his voice.

“Far away,” I said, remembering the place the guard had told me the Gulag was based.

Beads of sweat ran down Viktor's head and he lowered his eyes. My lip curled at this pathetic weak man who I'd been saddled with, and I got to my feet. In minutes, I was in front of the mirror, power pressing, as Viktor cracked open a bottle of vodka behind me, slumped into a chair, and drank himself to sleep. With every press of the two hundred fifty pound weight, I heard Kisa crying as Durov fucked her, saw Durov smirk as he ploughed into her, licking his palm for me to see.

Hours later, when everyone had left the gym and the lights were turned off, I crept from where I had hidden in the bathroom and hunkered down on a training mat in my private training room. This gym would now be my home, until Durov was dead.

As I shut my eyes, Kisa's face came into view, and a young boy's voice started to echo through my mind …

You have to keep away from Alik, Kisa. He's obsessed with you and he's dangerous …

My eyes snapped open and a fractured image fixed itself in place.

Kisa? The boy in the memory had said
Kisa.

 

11

KISA

The Dungeon was full. Men, thirsty to gamble for high stakes, leaked into the tunnel leading to the dank underground warehouse on the docks of Brooklyn. This place was well hidden from the public, normal everyday people who like to think that nothing sinister was happening under their noses. People who believed organized fights to the death were fiction, fantasy played out on TV. They were happy in their ignorance of my reality.

But the people here, now, they were criminals, the dregs of society. I came here every day of every week, but the next three nights were what The Dungeon was about—the prime fighters, the men who put on a show and died. They gave their all, they spilled blood, and they drew their very last breath in this place.

The Dungeon was what we Bratva were best known for. This was the biggest gambling ring on the East Coast.

As the Byki lined the outskirts of the basement, keeping control, the cage was center stage. I stayed in the back rooms, hearing the thudding of feet on the ancient stone floor. The excitement for spilled blood, for death, charged the air.

The Red kings, my father and Ivan, were in their private booth at the back, hidden from view but able to oversee their enterprise and watch their money rolling in. Abram would be with Alik. He always hovered close, pushing him, goading him, then watched his puppet from beside the cage.

There were eight fights tonight, the latter ones involving Raze, then Alik. They were both fighting strong, headline fighters. I fully expected both of them to win, but here in The Dungeon, nothing was a safe bet. Alik was experienced and full of confidence, and Raze? Well, Raze was a complete unknown, but the place was buzzing with the anticipation of seeing him fight. Papa had told Ivan of his skill in the cage, and Ivan had built up the hype.

Raze had trained all week, my father becoming a fixture at the gym to watch him. He was fast becoming Papa's favorite. That fact only served to made Alik even more furious, more unstable, more possessive, and Abram wasn't happy about his son's newly arrived competition either.

And me? I had become completely obsessed with Raze. I watched him train through the blinds of my office window when Alik wasn't in the gym to catch me. My body set on fire simply at the sight of his bare torso bending and flexing as he lifted weights or sparred in the cage or ran on the treadmill. My heart pounded and I often became lightheaded, such was the draw I had toward this man.

My every thought was overcome by him. Raze was always the first one in the gym and the very last to leave at night. It was as if he
didn't
even leave. He had one focus: becoming the best fighter we had. And making things worse still, he stared at me when no one was looking. The men talked about Raze. About how he never looked anyone in the eye. About how fiercely he trained. But when I passed by, when I had to speak to the coaches, he watched me with those brown-smudged-blue eyes, tracking my every move, like he only
saw
me. His muscles tensed solid when I was near. His nostrils would flare as he inhaled my scent. But he never spoke. Never communicated. Just watched …

Always watched me, prompting goose bumps to spread like wildfire on my skin, evoking familiar nervous/excited stirrings in my stomach that I hadn't felt since I was in my early teens.

“Five minutes,” I abruptly called as I rapped on the first fighter's door. The coach yelled back that he heard me, and I walked down the hallway toward Alik's room. He needed me there before every fight. Said if he didn't have me close, he would lose his mind, couldn't focus and couldn't win. Said he needed to know where I was so he could keep me safe. Truth was, he couldn't stand seeing me around other men and the Dungeon was full of them. It was just easier to give in and do as he said rather than have him stressed, which might affect his upcoming fight.

He needed me. It was that simple.

As I neared Alik's door, a flash of movement caught my eye. I spotted Viktor leaving Raze's room up ahead, and I ground to a sudden halt. Raze would be in there, alone. It was his first fight, and I wanted him to be okay. A heart-wrenching twist of my gut almost brought me to my knees when I thought of him losing tonight. A pain so severe it left me breathless.

Why was I so attracted to him? I didn't know him. Nothing about him made any sense to me. He was wild and untamed, severe and animalistic. I knew he wasn't Luka, couldn't be
my
Luka, but a feeling deep inside told me to keep pushing to find out.

Of course it was irrational. Of course it was stupid. Of course it was impossible. But when your heart's so deeply involved, logic flies straight out the window.

I glanced at my watch and noted I was early; Alik wouldn't be expecting me for five more minutes.

Five minutes.

I could have five minutes with Raze.

Making sure he was prepared for tonight. At least this was the lie I told myself to excuse my erratic and dangerous behavior.

I hadn't seen Raze yet today and my chest ached because of it. Viktor brought him here to the gym. Alik had me jailed in his bedroom all day, fucking me over and over and over. One time he fucked me so hard my thighs were bruised and my throat was sore from crying.

Alik made me bleed. He rammed into me so hard that he made me
bleed
 …

“You want to fuck him, Kisa? You think he's better than me, just like your papa does? You want to fuck that cunt Raze?”
Alik had asked, pushing inside me so roughly that tears of pain splashed down my cheeks.

“No,”
I'd cried
. “Baby, no. You're seeing things. Imaging things that aren't true.”

Alik's mouth dropped to my ear and his fingers dug into my cheeks, forcing me to meet his rage-filled eyes.

“He watches you, did you know that? Doesn't meet anyone else's eyes like the fucking coward he is, but he watches you. Do you watch him too? Do you think you can fuck him and leave me?”
he roared. He bit into my shoulder as I shook my head, trying to say no.

Alik thrust inside me in a frenzy, and I let more silent tears fall.

“You won't ever be free of me, Kisa. I own you. Every inch of you! You're with me until the end.”

Shuddering at the memory, still feeling the soreness between my legs, I acted on instinct and followed my heart instead of my head. I marched forward to Raze's door. A nervous hand reached out to grip the doorknob, and sneaking one more glance at the empty hallway, I opened the door and bolted inside, shutting the door as I did so.

Closing my eyes, back pressed against the wood, I exhaled in relief that Alik hadn't caught me. Then I sensed a dark, dominant presence …

Raze.

My eyelids fluttered open to find myself faced with that now familiar broad, tattooed scarred chest and torso of ragged tattooed tallies. A musky smell assaulted my nostrils, prompting my pussy to contract in need.

I followed the tanned, scarred skin north, over thick pecs, impossibly high traps, up over a square jaw, and up to a pair of burning brown eyes.

He was wired for the fight.

Pumped with adrenaline.

“Raze…” I whispered, but my words stuck in my throat as he leaned in close, his nose almost touching the delicate skin between my shoulder and neck. Raze raised his arms above my head. Then he inhaled, long and slow. My eyes shuddered closed and my palms met with Raze's hot skin, my fingers drawing lazy circles around his nipples, feeling a hot bolt zing all the way down to the apex of my thighs.