Reap (Scarred Souls, #2)(50)

Bringing my hand to my chest, I said, “I could lead our men on the streets, attack our enemies until they crawl back into the holes they slid from.” I leaned forward, my blood pumping faster just imagining it. “I could make the Volkov Bratva unrivaled, Kisa. I could make us stronger than ever. I just need that chance. I need our fathers to trust in me, in the man I am now. Violence included.”

Blood drained from Kisa’s face. She lost all color. Moving backward, she slumped back on her seat. I watched her in confusion.

“Kisa?”

“You want back in the Dungeon?” she whispered brokenly. “You want to fight like Alik did in the cage, on the streets? Even now you want that? Even now you have your life back? Now you have me. Do you still want to kill like him, too?”

I bent down, my knees hitting the floor. By the look on Kisa’s face, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. “No, baby,” I assured. I pushed her brown hair back from her face. “I f*cking hated Durov. There’s not a single day that goes by that I don’t remember killing him and feeling f*cking fine with it. But”—I took a deep breath and confessed—“at least he got to be who he really was.”

Kisa was motionless waiting for me to continue.

I tried to think of a way to explain myself better. Taking her hand, I said, “I don’t want to fight in the cage anymore. But I don’t know who I am without the fight, if that makes sense. I am the fight. I am death. It’s who I am. It’s who I was molded to be.”

My eyes dropped to stare at the floor when Kisa didn’t say anything in response. Why the f*ck she was with me was a mystery to me. I was f*cked in the head. I was irredeemable. She deserved better than me. She’d been forced to be with Alik Durov for years in my absence. And she’d hated it. He’d hurt her, made her life hell with his need for blood and violence.

I sucked in a painful breath. I wasn’t much of an improvement on that cunt. I needed those things, too. Probably just as much.

Suddenly Kisa crouched to the floor. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and I immediately sagged into her chest.

“I love you, lyubov moya. Since birth and until the end,” she whispered, pushing any self-hatred I had to the side.

I sighed as she said exactly what I needed to hear and held her tight. “I love you, too, solnyshko. Always.”

Kisa leaned back, searching my face, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her again. I broke from her mouth and pressed my forehead against hers.

We stayed there awhile in silence until Kisa pulled back. I reached out and took hold of her wrist, suddenly remembering she’d been to the doctor this morning. I’d noticed she’d been sick and off color lately. It was worrying the hell out of me.

“How was your doctor’s appointment?” I asked.

Kisa stared at me, her blue eyes seeming to lose focus. With an abrupt squeeze of my hand in hers, she quickly smiled and said, “Just a stomach flu, baby. Nothing to worry about.”

I sighed in relief, and got to my feet. I offered her my hand, too. Sliding her palm over mine, Kisa got to her feet. I wrapped her in my arms. “I’m glad it’s nothing serious. I love you,” I whispered. “More than I know how to express.”

Kisa tensed for a brief moment, her breath hitching. Then she held me right back.





Chapter Thirteen

Zaal

They started off as images. Pictures of people and places I didn’t recognize. They began invading my dreams at night. I watched them as if I was standing on the side. People; men, women, children, both boys and girls. They were happy. They made me feel warm. There were two boys. They looked the same; same hair, same build, same face, but one had brown eyes and the other green.

I couldn’t erase their faces from my mind. But every time I thought about them really hard, red-hot pain would slice through my brain … then came other images … images of blood, of guns, of screams that tore my stomach apart. I couldn’t stand them. The screams ignited the fire in my veins, causing me to lose control. But a little girl’s screams were the worst.… She would scream and I would see two little arms reaching for me to help but something was holding me back … then the screams would stop and a pit would form in my stomach.

I wouldn’t be able to breathe, and my heart would break, impossible anger tearing me to shreds.

I lay in bed with Talia, my eyes wide open and my arms wrapped around her small waist. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t want to rest and have the dreams come back. I didn’t want them in my head. I had no idea what they meant but knew they made Talia cry.

She would always cry. When I didn’t understand what she wanted me to do, her eyes would fill with tears. She would look at me with her big brown eyes and go quiet.

I didn’t like her crying. My stomach would tighten and my chest would burn. I liked her smiling and when her lips would show her teeth. I liked the mole on her lower left cheek and when her long blond hair would lay over one shoulder. When she would stare at me, her cheeks flushing red. When she would put her hand on my face and cool my scolding blood. I liked it when she stroked my long hair, and when she kissed my lips, her tongue pushing inside my mouth.

I liked being with her, and not being with Master. I liked being free with Talia, in this protected house.

But my favorite was how she made me feel. How fast my heart would beat when she lay with me. How I could breathe when she held my hand, her thumb stroking the back of my hand.