Give Me More (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

Several days later

Let me take you out tonight.

Let me show you how special you are to me.

Let me show you off, Myshka.

Zoey played those words in her head over and over again. She’d been thinking about them since she’d gotten the phone call from Sergei yesterday evening. It had been several days since he’d been at her house … since he’d been inside of her.

A shiver wracked her body at that thought, and all she could think about, all she could feel, was how it had felt to be touched, claimed by him.

And as corny as it sounded, even when she thought about it, those few days felt like a lifetime. Zoey didn’t know why she felt so close to him, or why she felt so safe with Sergei even though she knew he was far from it.

But not to me. I just know he’d never hurt me, that he’d go to any lengths to protect me.

The emotions consumed her, and she embraced it. She wouldn’t let her past dictate what she should or shouldn’t feel, and certainly wouldn’t allow Rick to intrude on her life anymore.

No, she was pushing Rick and his poison to the side. Zoey was not letting her fear of him possibly coming after her, and finding where she was, strangle her. She’d already wasted too much time on it, and she was done.

Zoey was done with it all.

She was going to start living her life the way she wanted to, and that meant embracing what she felt for Sergei, even if he was in the mafia.

Bratva. Russian Mafia.

Yeah, he was dangerous all right, but she got this little tingle at the knowledge he wielded so much power.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she smoothed her hands down her dress. Yeah, she’d gone all out in the primping department. Her hair was up in a classy, but doable chignon, and the dress she wore was black with a low-cut neck. Hell, Sergei had been the one to pick out the dress. She’d gotten home and found the box at her doorstep, a small white note attached to it. He wanted her to wear it for him, and that sent all kinds of tingles through her body.

He’d also put in a pair of silk panties, which she had on. Knowing he might have picked them up, imagining her in them, had a flush stealing over her.

“I am in so over my head,” she whispered to her reflection, but then this goofy little smile played across her mouth. It felt good to just let herself go, to just let her emotions for Sergei claim her.

She felt like her old self, where she didn’t have to worry about anything, and just lived life.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Sergei would be here in about twenty minutes to pick her up, and she felt like a schoolgirl for how many butterflies flapped around in her belly. Looking down the length of her body, she idly wondered if she could actually walk properly in the heels Sergei had also sent her. Heck, she didn’t care to be honest. They were gorgeous stilettos, feet killers for sure, but they made her ankles look slender and her legs long as hell.

Lifted her head back up, the smile on her face instantly vanished at what she saw in the reflection behind her. A dark shape moved out from the kitchen, the setting sun casting all kinds of shadows and making everything seem even more dangerous.

Zoey might not be able to see who was coming closer, but in her gut the reality was there.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Rick’s voice was like a slap to her face. Her heart stopped, her palms instantly became sweaty, and she tried to swallow.

Moving backward, away from him, she quickly looked at how far she was from the front door. But Rick started moving toward that. “Let me lock this so we have some privacy,” he said and grinned.

She could see a red, raised scar that started at the top of his hairline and disappeared beneath the dark strands.

“Admiring your handiwork?” he said just as the lock on the front door clicked into place. He then went for the chain, slid that into place, and grinned wider.

Telling him Sergei was coming was on the tip of her tongue, but if Rick didn’t know already, telling him could have him leaving. She didn’t want that. She wanted Sergei to find them, to end this.

God, do I really want that? Sergei will kill him.

Yes, she knew that, should have felt sick for even thinking that … knowing what Sergei would do, but no, she wanted Rick out of her life for good. Permanently.

Zoey moved away from him, but he kept advancing. There was the back door that she could try to make a run for, because at least if she was outside she wouldn’t be trapped in here with Rick. He’d chase her. She knew that.

“It took me a while to find you, seeing as you never told me your sister’s name.” He was still grinning, still slowly coming closer. “But I have my ways, Zoey, and I wasn’t about to let you go.” He lifted his hand and touched the scar. “And I get to look at this reminder every day. It helped me keep focused on the end game.”

Before she knew where she was headed she found herself further away from the backdoor, and more toward the back bedroom. That was not where she wanted to be. She shivered at the thought of how long he’d been in the house, and of how long he’d been watching her. Rick stared at her, looked his fill of her body, and she felt disgust. She’d dressed up for Sergei, wanted to look beautiful for him, but here Rick was, tarnishing all of that, making her feel like she was covered in oil.

His smirk turned more sexual, more disgusting.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dressed up.” He tilted his head, and she felt as though he could see right through the material. She wanted to cover herself. “You never dressed like that for me.” The way he said the last part had a hint of anger in it.

All that strength she’d felt grow in her, that happiness she felt after meeting and being with Sergei, all seemed to vanish. In its place were hopelessness, sickness, and this trapped feeling that settled right over her chest. In this moment all she could think about was the past, and the horrible things Rick had done and said to her.

Taking several more steps back, she hit the wall by her bedroom door.

“He’s made you
his
whore, Zoey,” Rick said, his smile gone, his anger more pronounced.

Her heart pounded so hard, she felt as though it would burst right through her ribcage. She felt her eyes widen when she realized Rick held something … a pair of her underwear.

Oh God.

He was sick, disgusting, and all she could do was watch as he brought those panties up and smelled them as he stared right at her.

How long had he been in her house? How much had he seen? It was clear he’d gone through her things. Chills raced up her spine.

“I miss the smell of you.” He dropped his hand to his side, his hand tightening on the fabric. “I miss everything about you. Even if you did hit me hard enough to crack open my skull, I still want you.” He moved closer, and she slid to the side, away from him. “I woke up after you hit me with enough blood around my body that I was surprised I survived.”

She didn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe.

“I found my way to the hospital, told them I’d been mugged, and I healed, my only thoughts on finding you.” He moved closer. “But you’ve been a bad girl these last three months, defiling yourself with some
thug
.” He all but spit out the word. “Once I’ve shown you who you really belong to, that you can’t get rid of me, I’m going after your little boyfriend.” He tossed the panties aside and snarled out like some kind of feral animal.

He clearly didn’t know who and what Sergei was, but that would work to her advantage. If Rick had been smart he’d realize he was no match for Sergei, or the “thug” organization he was affiliated with. Zoey might not know much about the Bratva, but she knew enough to understand it wasn’t some back alley gang.

“You won’t survive this, Rick,” she finally found her voice and said. She glanced at the bedside clock.

Ten minutes until Sergei is here.

He let out a horrendous laugh. “You’re mine, Zoey, and that’s all I care about. Anyone or anything that gets in my way of possessing you will be a casualty.” He moved even closer, but she was trapped in the corner, her own fear clouding her mind. “I’ve been watching you for a while now. I know your routine, where you work.” He moved closer. “I know the life you’ve been living.” He curled his lip. “You gave yourself to that fucker, but I still want you.” He moved a step closer.

And then he stopped, just stared at her for a few long moments. It felt like the calm before a deadly storm.

In one giant lunge, he went after her, his arms outstretched, this crazed look on his face. She could use things in the room as a weapon, but she needed to get to them first. She turned and went for the lamp on the bedside table, but Rick grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her back. Zoey yelped in pain, reached back and grabbed at his hands.

He yanked her back hard enough she fell on her ass, the pain radiating right up her spine. Zoey called upon the few self-defense classes she’d gone to with Alexa when she’d first moved to town. Her sister had insisted they go, and Zoey was glad. But taking some classes and actually being in the thick of violence were different things. She was terrified, and that had her body tight, frozen.

But she pushed past it and twisted. His hold loosened as he went to grab at her again, but it wasn’t as secure as before. He pulled her up, and she kicked out, hitting his shin hard enough he grunted out. Dark satisfaction filled her that she’d caused him pain. His hold loosened for just a second after the kick, and she didn’t waste time to move away from him. But he was fast and slammed his body into hers, taking her down on the bed.

“I didn’t want things to be like this when we reunited, Zoey,” he said, his breath coming out in harsh pants, his hand around her neck.

He acted like they were lovers seeing each other again after so long, like this was a happy reunion.

He took both of her wrists and thrust them above her head, holding her in place, making her immobile. He added pressure to her throat, and she struggled, trying to buck him off, trying to kick at him again. They were hanging perilously close to the edge of the bed, and the more she struggled, the closer they got to the edge.

And then they were falling off the bed. Her skull cracked back on the floor, and Rick made a deep sound as their positions shifted. He grabbed a chunk of her hair, jerked her head back, and bared his teeth. He lifted his other hand, and she watched as he curled his hand into a fist. Slapping at him and trying to push him off did nothing but have him curse at her. She waited for the hit, but before she felt pain the weight of him was suddenly off of her.

She opened her eyes only long enough to see Sergei towering over Rick. He had his hand around Rick’s neck, and started to slowly lift him off the ground. She felt her eyes widen at the clear strength in Sergei. With one powerful move, Sergei head-butted Rick hard enough she heard the sound of their skulls slamming against each other echo around the room. Her ex’s body went limp, and blood started to drip down from his hairline. Sergei let Rick fall to the floor, the other man’s head slamming back on the ground with a sickening sound.

Zoey started to shake as she stared at where Rick lay unmoving.

“
Myshka
,” Sergei said in a gentle tone.

Slowly she turned her head and looked at the man that had come at the perfect time. She stared at the person she was falling for. Then the tears came without her being strong enough to stop them.

“Shhh, baby, let me just hold you,” he said and pulled her close. He sat on the floor with her on his lap, holding her, stroking her back, and whispering words in Russian. She didn’t know what he said, but she could tell they were sweet, endearments. “You’re in shock, baby,” he whispered softly, and she knew she was.

“I hate that he’s done this to me, that he still has this much control on my life.” She glanced at Rick from around Sergei’s big shoulder. Rick was still alive, and she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he lay there unconscious. Zoey wished he was dead, the life just snuffed right out of him.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sergei said with this darkness in his voice. “I’ll take care of the motherfucker.”

Maybe Zoey should have said no, to tell Sergei to let Rick live, but she just rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and kept her mouth shut.

Chapter Twelve

Sergei had called Yvgeny to pick Zoey up and take her some place safe. He’d also told his associate to let her sister know what was going on. Sergei trusted the other man, and knew he’d watch over the woman he was already in love with. Yeah, he fucking loved her, and as swift as it all had been, it felt like the most right thing that had ever happened in his life.

He lit a cigarette, knowing he should quit them, but for what he was about to do he needed that nicotine kick.

His men stood behind him, all waiting for his orders, or hell, just to watch the carnage that was about to take place. The sound of the warehouse door opening and closing told him Yvgeny was here.

“Glad you didn’t start without me,” he said to Sergei in Russian.

Sergei nodded, staring at Rick, whom they had strung up like a pig about to get its belly cut open.

Rick had a gag in his mouth, mainly because he’d been screaming like a little bitch. He struggled against his bonds. Sergei wanted to prolong this, but he also knew he wanted to get this the fuck over with so he could go back to Zoey.

“She’s doing okay, all things considered?”

“
Da
,” Yvgeny replied. “Alexa’s with her at my place.”

Good, that was really good.

“What’s your plan for the fucker?” Yvgeny asked, coming to stand right beside Sergei.

“I want to make this quick, but he also needs to suffer.”

“Agreed.”

It wasn’t a surprise Yvgeny wanted to be so involved. He’d known Zoey the entire time she’d been here, had protected her, and wanted to take care of her. He had just as much right to dish out the revenge as Sergei did.

Sergei removed his suit jacket, took off his tie, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He then undid the first few buttons of his collar. This was going to be back alley fighting, dirty, raw, and there would be a lot of blood involved. But in the end there was no doubt the motherfucker would be dead.

Sergei took one more hit off the cigarette, but instead of putting it out on the ground, he walked up to Rick and stubbed the butt out in the center of the prick’s forehead. Rick screamed out, and Sergei grinned.

“I grabbed these,” Yvgeny said and handed over a pair of brass knuckles. Sergei looked down at them, memories of his life on the streets back in Russia slamming into him.

He grabbed the metal, slipped it on his fingers, and curled his hand into a fist. He was back home with these on.

“Get ready to feel some major pain, fucker,” he said right before he stepped up to Rick and started beating the fucking shit out of him.

A left hook.

An undercut.

A round of punches to his kidneys.

“Let me have a few goes at him,” Yvgeny said, and Sergei stepped aside. He watched the other man land blow after blow into the fucker’s face, and after about five minutes Yvgeny stepped away.

Sergei didn’t waste any time going back to town on the asshole’s body. He heard the grunts and the cries of pain come from the prick, and he loved every fucking minute of it.

Sergei had to give the bastard credit. He didn’t beg for his life.

“How’s it feel to be the one getting the beat down?” Sergei gritted out and slammed the brass into the side of Rick’s head. His skull cracked to the side. Blood was everywhere, even covering Sergei’s knuckles and shirt.

“You can fuck her, but she’ll always be mine. I had her first, and there’s nothing you can ever do about it.” Rick spit out a mouthful of blood, and Sergei felt his rage grow even more. Rearing his arm back he slammed the metal so hard into the side of the bastard’s jaw he heard the bone crunch under the onslaught.

No one said anything as they watched Rick take his beating. They got just as much pleasure watching a woman beater get taken out as Sergei did delivering the hits.

After ten minutes of hard-core hitting, Sergei took a step back and looked at his handiwork. Rick looked like he was a piece of meat that had just gone through the grinder. Blood pooled on the ground, and pieces of flesh had torn off from Rick’s face, skin and meat barely attached anymore.

“Not that I give a fuck, but he’s about to check out from blood loss. You better finish it so you get the satisfaction of delivering that final blow, and this asshole feeling it.” Yvgeny was the one to speak.

Sergei turned his head and spit, his focus still on Rick. Someone handed him a bottle of vodka, and he took a long pull from it. Sergei could have gone all night, but Rick couldn’t.

He walked back to the bastard, grabbed his chin in a brutal hold, and bared his teeth. “She never was yours and will never be yours. You were a stain on her life, a parasite.” Rick was half passed out as it was, and Sergei wanted to give that final blow while the fucker was still conscious.

“Gun or blade?” Yvgeny asked, producing both. Sergei grabbed the ten-inch hunting knife, one that had no doubt been used to kill plenty in its time. Without anything else being said, Sergei started to go to work on Rick’s face, opening it up, giving him a nice Hollywood smile. Then he plunged the blade into his gut, and brought the metal up to his breastbone.

“Zoey’s mine,” Sergei growled out as he made sure Rick was staring right in his eyes when the bastard took that final wet, gurgling breath.

And then the fucker was out.

Sergei took a step back and stared at Rick hanging there lifeless. “Get rid of the body,” he said to one of the men watching. “Cut him up and bury the pieces in different part of the city.”

He handed the blade off, wanting to get back to Zoey, but needing to be cleaned up first. He’d seen so much death and blood in his day that it didn’t affect him, but Zoey—fuck, Zoey had to be traumatized.

If she didn’t know already, he’d make her see she was his.

He’d go to any lengths to ensure that.

****

It felt like hours since she’d been taken to Yvgeny’s home, and although the place was magnificent, all she could think about was where Sergei was, and what he was doing to Rick.

But the truth was for as much as she thought about it, wondered, she felt no sorrow for the man that had tormented her for far too long.

She hoped he was dead, because then she could fully move on with her life and be happy …
with Sergei.

“You want anything else to drink?” Alexa asked, heading over to the bar.

Zoey nodded. She got up and handed her sister the now empty scotch glass. She’d never been much of a drinker, but after tonight it had helped relax her.

“What do you think is going on?” Zoey asked, her voice low.

Alexa glanced at her, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her expression said enough.

“Yeah, I think things are pretty heavy, too.”

Alexa poured their drinks and gestured for them to go back to the couch. After they sat down and Zoey took a drink, she glanced at her sister.

“You know he’s dead, right?” Alexa asked.

Zoey nodded, not feeling anything one way or another.

“That doesn’t … worry you at all?”

Zoey thought about the question, but she didn’t need to. “Honestly?” Alexa nodded. “No.”

A moment of passed between them.

“I hope they made him suffer.”

Another moment of silence passed.

“I hope so, too,” Alexa responded.

They sat there finishing off their drink, the sound of a clock ticking down the minutes resounding in the room.

“I think I love him,” Zoey finally whispered.

Alexa looked at her, the surprise clear on her face.

“It’s damn crazy, I know.”

“It’s not,” Alexa responded.

And then they heard the front door opening and closing, and they both stood when they saw Sergei and Yvgeny stepping into the living room. Sergei’s hair was wet, and he’d changed out of his shirt.

She didn’t have to wonder why for long.

Without thinking about anything else but the fact she wanted Sergei to hold her, Zoey set her glass down and went to him. He pulled her into the hardness of his body right away, and she inhaled the clean scent of him.

“He won’t bother you again,” he said in a low, deep voice.

She didn’t speak for long seconds, and then she pulled back and looked into his face.

“Good.”

He cupped her face and smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. “I’ll always live this life, Zoey.”

She nodded, knowing what he meant without him having to break it down for her.

“I want you just as you are,” she said. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. “I think I love you, Sergei,” she whispered, knowing it sounded stupid, but wanting him to know. They hadn’t known each other long at all, but she knew what she felt, and what she felt as all-consuming.

His big body shuddered, as if her words had cut him deep.

And then he pulled her against him and just held her. He started whispering against her hair in Russian.

“What does that mean?” she asked after a few seconds had passed.

“I said you’re mine, the same as I’m yours.”

She couldn’t help but smile, because yeah, that was exactly how she felt.