Текст книги "Reap"

Автор книги: Tillie Cole

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Zaal’s teeth gritted as he pushed forward, inch by long thick inch. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and a pained moan fell from my lips as he filled me to the hilt.

I gasped at the full feeling, my skin damp as Zaal’s hard body rubbed against mine. He was all consuming. Taking me. Owning me. Completely possessing me in every possible way.

“Talia,” he groaned as his hips built up speed. But he never looked away. Our eyes stayed fixed as I met him thrust for thrust, my hips rolling to feel him more and more.

Zaal leaned down, his arms encasing my head. I bathed in his warm breath as my hands lay flat against his back. Zaal increased his speed, my pussy gripping tightly to his cock. I breathed in his scent—musk and sweat and Zaal. All Zaal.

My skin felt on fire, every part of me glowing with life.

Grunts and groans spilled from Zaal’s mouth. And I drank them all in. His face tensed and his mouth parted, breathing in and out in short sharp pants.

Then Zaal’s hips hit harder. I wouldn’t last. It was too much. This intensity. The look in his beautiful green eyes. The look of pure need, of pure love in his face.

I didn’t think it could be like this.

I never knew. I never knew it was possible to feel this strongly.

Shivers ghosted down my back as tingles shot up my spine. My clit pulsed and Zaal’s cock within me brushed over my G-spot deep inside. My pussy clenched and my nipples hardened, my back arching off the bed.

Zaal’s nostrils flared and his lips tightened. His thrusts pumped faster still, and I knew this was it, knew he was about to fall … fall over the edge with me.

On a cry, and a final hard thrust by Zaal, my pussy clamped down on his dick and I burst apart at the seams. Stars glittered behind my eyes as I came, the force of my orgasm causing Zaal to bellow out a roar.

Zaal’s chest was damp with sweat, and he dropped his head to the crook of my neck. My eyes fluttered closed, Zaal’s length still jerking, grunts escaping his mouth. His breathing evened out and I placed my hand on the back of his head; I had to hold him close. I needed to anchor myself. My heart felt full to the brim with love, so full I felt I needed his touch to keep in control.

And I wanted him to know.

I wanted him to know how he’d changed me.

“Baby,” I whispered. Zaal’s head turned slightly to the side, his heavy breathing still labored. I guided his head higher, until his bright jade eyes were looking right into mine. My heart stuttered at the wild and primal sight of loose strands of long hair falling over his face. They had freed themselves from his knot and I had to slowly inhale at the sight.

Taking a deep breath, knowing I had Zaal’s full attention, I placed my palm on his cheek, and confessed, “I love you, Zaal. I completely and wholeheartedly adore you.”

Zaal’s full lips parted.

His eyebrows pulled together. “Love?” he asked. His green eyes searched mine as if he could find the answer in their depths.

His short breaths warmed my face, and I explained, “It’s a feeling. It’s that fullness you feel in your heart, your soul. The tightness and breathlessness you feel in your chest. It’s passion.” I moved a hand to lay over his chest, directly over his racing heart. “It’s the need, the absolute need to be with another, like this, joined, unwilling to be separated for anything.” I blinked away the mist from my eyes, and added, “It’s you and I, Zaal.

“Love,” he whispered, rolling his tongue around the word.

“Most males and females with full hearts, hearts full for each other, say, ‘I love you,’ and ‘I love you, too.’”

“Mmm…,” he replied, his head slightly shaking as if he disapproved. And my heart sank. A raw surge of pain making me breathless. He didn’t love me back.

Zaal’s skin had flushed as he watched me, a kaleidoscope of emotions flitting across his face. Lifting his hand, he pressed it over his heart, and then over mine. “You are … for me,” he stated, those familiar words, so simple yet so powerful, sounding like heaven to my soul.

Tears fell, and I realized this was him telling me he loved me, too. “You like to say that better?” I asked, my voice breaking in happiness.

He nodded firmly, his harsh face straightening in conviction. “You are … for me. No other male. Just me. And me … for you. This is my, ‘I love you.’ These are my words from my scarred soul. They are not borrowed words, but words from my full heart, and my heart only.”

Those four simple words, “You are … for me,” were the most meaningful words that could ever be spoken.

Zaal leaned down and peppered soft kisses over my face, murmuring, “You are for me, you are for me,” repeatedly, until I thought my body would burst with light.

With my hands on his face, I lifted his face to meet mine. Gazing into those green eyes that had taken me captive all those weeks ago, I replied, “I am for you, Zaal, eternally. I am forever for you.”

The expression that set on Zaal’s face, one of disbelief and pure adoration, stole my breath. He swallowed the heavy emotion built between us, and took my mouth in the most gentle and sweetest of kisses. I wrapped my hands around his wide body, his warmth keeping me safe, making me feel so incredibly safe.

This was perfection.

This was my paradise—

Suddenly a loud crash sounded downstairs. Zaal’s mouth ripped from mine. Gunshots sounded. Loud pain-filled shouts echoed into our room.

I recognized those voices—Savin, Ilya.

“No,” I whispered, terror washing through my body.

Zaal froze when a rush of feet pounded up the stairs. His hand found mine, and just as he was about to pull me from the bed, the door burst open, the wood cracking off the wall. I screamed as men flooded into the room; men with rifles all aimed at our heads.

Zaal shook with rage. Releasing my hands, he ran at the guards. But just as he was about to fight, a man pushed through the door. A dark man with inky black hair and soulless eyes. He was dressed impeccably, and as soon as he laid eyes on Zaal, Zaal ground to a halt.

The blood drained from my face—Jakhua, his master.

Zaal’s face tore apart with agony as he stood before Jakhua. I could see how conditioned he was to obey this man.

Jakhua, with a heady confidence, glanced over to me and his lip curled in disgust.

“221,” he said in cold greeting. Zaal’s body stiffened. I could see his eyes squeezing shut repeatedly at Jakhua’s voice. My heart lurched. He was trying to fight the hold, fight the twenty-year-long leash Jakhua had on him.

Jakhua walked forward and, clicking his fingers at his guards, ordered, “Take the Russian whore.”

White-hot fear spiked through my body as two of his guards walked forward. I shuffled back along to the headboard of the bed, trying to get away.

Zaal had begun to pace, holding on to the sides of his head. But Jakhua’s eyes never left mine. I could feel the repulsion. My stomach rolled in response.

A guard reached out for me, but I kicked out, landing a strike to his stomach. He grunted at the hit, but a second guard was suddenly behind me, and he rammed his fist straight against my cheek. Dazed from the blow, I was unable to fight the guard from wrapping his hand in my hair, using the painful purchase to drag me from the bed.

And then I heard a blood-curdling roar tear from Zaal. Managing to glance up, my vision blurred by the pain, I saw Zaal run at the surrounding guards. He was lethal in his execution.

My desperate gaze sought out Jakhua, and I smiled at the pure look of fear on his face. His personal guards pushed him back, as Zaal knocked Jakhua’s enforcers to the ground.

Jakhua looked my way, and with a smug grin, signaled something to the guards. The guard holding my hair dragged me to my feet. In a rush, my naked body was pushed through the melee and down the stairs. I could hear Zaal snarling, and crashes against the wall, but I couldn’t get free.

The guards pulled me down until I hit the hallway, where they then wrenched open the basement door and pushed me inside.

My blood coursed through my body when I was pulled down the stairs. Footsteps followed behind.

I fought my screams. I needed to be strong. I thought of my father and mother, of Luka and Kisa, and what they’d endured. I wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction of hearing or seeing my fear.

I was pushed against the wall, the wall where only weeks before I’d watched Zaal slump against. The guards held out my hands and made quick work of shackling me. The chains were heavy on my limbs and they tightened them until my arms hung above my head.

I almost passed out from the pain, but I gritted my teeth forcing myself to fight.

Suddenly I saw feet and when I looked up Jakhua was standing in front of me, his face betraying his rage. Unprovoked, he struck me across the face with the back of his hand. I closed my eyes at the blast of pain slicing through my head. I felt a wetness drip down my chin.

I tasted the iron taste of blood as it hit my tongue. My lip throbbed. My shoulders ached as the chains kept me suspended, the pain too much to bear.

Jakhua moved back, and he gripped my cheeks. His furious dark eyes met mine. “You’re the Tolstoi bitch who’s sunk her claws into my dog, huh?”

I felt anger, white-hot anger. The feeling was new but not unwelcomed. Gathering the blood in my mouth, I spat the contents in his face. Jakhua froze for a beat then struck me again, my cheek pulsing with the impact of the blow.

Suddenly the door to the basement smashed open. I saw Zaal run down the stairs, his huge body tense, his muscles rippling. His hair fell from the topknot and his green eyes burned with rage.

As he hit the bottom stair, he turned to face us. His flushed face instantly paled when he saw me chained to the wall. “Talia…,” he murmured, and raced my way.

The guards raised their rifles, but Zaal kept coming. Looking like a savage animal unleashed, Zaal stormed toward Jakhua. But in a split second, Jakhua had pulled out a long sharp knife from his jacket. Ripping my head back by the hair, he held the knife right against my exposed throat.

Zaal skidded to a halt. Suddenly losing all his anger, his fear was evident in his expression.

“Come any closer, I’ll slit the fucking Russian whore’s throat,” Jakhua taunted through gritted teeth. I met Zaal’s eyes. He had no idea what to do.

“Don’t fucking hurt her!” he hissed. The knife pressed further against my skin. I could feel the sharp cold metal draw blood. A muffled cry slipped from my throat.

The sound prompted Zaal to step back. He repeated, “Don’t hurt her.”

Jakhua laughed a humorless laugh. “The animal fucking talks!” I shivered at the disdain in his voice. Zaal’s jaw clenched.

“The Volkovs have cost me a fucking lot of money. That cunt, the new knyaz, taking you from me has lost me tens of millions in Type A sales.”

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe calmly. But when the knife pressed against my throat even closer, I gasped for breath. When I opened my eyes, Zaal was pacing, hands fisting at his sides.

Jakhua pulled on my hair, my head snapping back until the pain shot down my spine. “And this bitch, this fucking whore is going to die. I’m going to kill them all.”

“No!” Zaal thundered. When his green eyes met mine, my body went limp. His expression had changed, but his eyes, they told me something new. They were telling me “good-bye.”

“No!” I said desperately.

Jakhua ripped at my hair. “Shut up, bitch.”

Zaal tensed, then dropping to his knees, quietly said, “Take me.”

My heart stopped. I felt like it frosted over inside my chest. “Zaal! No!”

But Zaal wasn’t looking at me, he was looking straight at Jakhua. “Let her live, and I’ll come with you, willingly.”

I could hear Jakhua’s heavy breathing in my ear, a heavy breathing that turned to relief as Zaal spoke those words.

“I have to make my money back,” Jakhua said. “I need one hundred percent obedience. You are to go back on the drug. I need you back for demonstrations of its effectiveness.”

I held my breath as he spoke those words. No! I tried to tell Zaal with my eyes, but his eyes were firmly focused on Jakhua.

Several seconds passed in silence. Zaal then got to his feet. He took a step closer. Then his eyes met mine. I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks as I read the resignation in his face.

Without taking his eyes from me, Zaal agreed, “I’ll come with you. I’ll go back on your drug. And I won’t resist, just let Talia live.”

My face contorted with the same amount of pain I felt crash through my body. Jakhua abruptly stepped back, the knife removed from my throat. “Your papa would be ashamed of you, 221. Fucking a Tolstoi. Like some fucked-up Romeo and Juliet shit.”

Zaal stepped forward, ignoring Jakhua, and I shook my head. “No!” I cried, my throat rasping with the rawness of my cries. “Please! You can’t go back. You can’t let him do that to you again!”

Zaal’s nostrils flared. His face paled with sadness. He stepped closer. I pushed his warm palm against my cheek. “I will gladly go, to save you. To let you live.”

I shook my head again, but I could see the deep resolve in his eyes. “No, Zaal. They’ll take away your thoughts. They’ll steal your memories again. They’ll make you kill again. You’ll be back living in darkness! I can’t, you can’t, please…”

“But you will live,” he whispered. My heart tore as I heard the break in his deep rasp. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be free, he deserved to be free.

“Zaal—”

“I will happily give up my life for yours.” His eyebrows pulled down in devastation. “I cannot imagine a world without you in it, you brought me the sun. I can live in darkness again knowing that you are shining here on the outside.”

Racking sobs tumbled from my mouth, their severity bruising my empty lungs. Zaal closed in, and with the gentlest of touches, he pressed his lips against mine. The pain from my split lip hit my face, but I didn’t care. I never ever wanted to break from this kiss.

Zaal pulled back, pressing his forehead to mine, as if he was committing this touch to memory, a memory he would lose as soon as he was injected with that fucking serum again. I couldn’t stand the thought.

“You deserve to live,” I whispered.

Zaal’s lips spread into a sad smile. “I have lived, Talia. In the short time I have known you, I have lived more than I could ever have dreamed.” His eyes stared at mine. “I have lived only because of you. I have … I have gained a full heart, a full heart for you.”

I closed my eyes at the pain of this moment, of his acceptance of this fate. Suddenly he was ripped away. Snapping my eyes back open, I watched in horror as the guards dragged him away toward the stairs.

I thrashed in my chains, trying to get free. Zaal shook his head, telling me to stop. Stilling, and unable to breathe, I stopped. I watched as they approached the stairs.

Mustering the last of my raspy voice, I shouted, “Zaal!”

He turned his face as he reached the bottom step and, with his hand on his heart and tears in his eyes, he said, “You are … for me.”

With those words the final dagger pierced my heart. I knew I’d be ruined for life. As Zaal began his ascent, I met his eyes, and declared in a hoarse voice, “I am … for you.”

Zaal swallowed, closed his eyes, and as the guards forced him up the stairs he disappeared from view.

All energy drained, a crippling grief sweeping through my body, I sagged in the tight chains, sagged and cried, cried until darkness claimed me, and I could cry no more.

Chapter Eighteen

Talia

“Down here!”

I stirred from sleep on hearing a male voice shout upstairs. I heard the rush of feet. Footsteps stormed down the steps to the basement.

I was aching, in pain, and my head throbbed.

“Shit! Talia!” I heard. Cracking my bruised eyes open, Luka ran my way. Luka and Mikhail, and byki, lots of byki.

“Luka.” My mouth formed the word, but my throat felt like it was filled with razors.

“Get her down!” Luka ordered. I smiled in my head, my lips too weak to make the gesture. He sounded like a leader, finally like the man he was born to be.

A sudden pain shot through my body as I was freed from my chains. Every muscle in my body screamed as the blood began to fill them, forcing them back to life.

Strong arms held me and lifted me off the floor. Something was put to my lips. Cool water immediately filled my mouth. I struggled to swallow through a raw throat, but I forced myself. I had to tell Luka about Jakhua, about Zaal. I had to save him. Luka had to save him.

“Get her robe!” Luka called. I heard footsteps on the stairs as someone obeyed his order.

Luka poured the water over my face. A towel followed as he cleaned my face, the soft material feeling like stabbing needles.

Luka’s hand pushed my bloodied hair back from my face, and he asked, “Talia? Are you okay?”

My eyes widened and filled with water. My body jerked. I tried to move. I needed to move. We needed to save Zaal.

“No,” Luka said as my body arched with pain. “You need to wait. Your body needs time to adjust.”

Looking into Luka’s brown eyes, I cried, and rasped, “He took him. He came and took him from me.”

Luka’s face darkened. He pulled me to his chest. “I’ll get him, Talia. This I promise you.”

“But he is going to drug him again. Zaal agreed to be the prototype again, to save my life.” Luka lowered me until I could see his face, his face torn with pain. “He saved me, Luka. Traded my life for his.”

Just then, a byki came with my robe. Luka ordered them all out of the basement. My eyes widened, and I asked, “Savin and Ilya?”

Luka’s eyes narrowed. “Shot.”

My stomach fell. “Are they … dead?”

Luka shook his head. “No. They’re not in good shape, but they’re on their way to the hospital. They should be okay.”

Luka helped me to stand, my legs aching as I tried to balance on my own. But Luka never let me fall. Instead he helped me dress, then lifted me in his arms.

As we made for the stairs, I asked, “You’re going to save him, right? I don’t, I don’t think I could live without him.”

Luka stopped. Looking me straight in the eyes, he said, “I already have men, trustworthy men, finding out where Jakhua’s taking Zaal. We have men on the inside, rats in his crew. It shouldn’t be long. He left himself too open risking this visit to retrieve Zaal. His tracks are already being traced. And as soon as we know where the fucker’s crawled off to, I’m gonna fucking storm the place and kill every last piz’da there.”

I swallowed at seeing my brother so violent. But right now, for the first time, I welcomed it. I wanted it.

Only Luka, Luka who used be known as Raze, could free Zaal.

*   *   *

As we approached my parents’ house a few hours later, I opened the door and ran into the hallway. Everyone was in the living room; Mama, Kisa, Papa, and the Pakhan. As I hurried into the living room on still-shaky feet, my mama jumped up and her face turned white.

“Talia … my girl,” she cried, and ran toward me taking me in her arms. She gripped me so tightly I flinched. Hearing my quick inhale of breath, Mama pulled back. Her hand lifted and skirted over my face. “Talia, what did that man do to you?”

“I’m fine, Mama.” I rubbed the top of her arms, and walked around her to face my father and Kirill. “Jakhua came to the house.” I swallowed, my throat still sore. I said, “They took Zaal. He took Zaal again. He’s going to use him for the drugs again.”

Someone entered the room, and when Kisa jumped from the sofa, I knew it was Luka. But my eyes stayed on my father. “Papa, we have to go and get him.”

My father stood, as did Kirill. My father walked forward and took me in his arms. “We’ll kill, Jakhua, Talia. He’ll pay. He’s fucked with the Bratva for the last time. Touching my daughter was the last thing he will ever do.”

I pulled back, my body sagging in relief. “And Zaal?” I asked. My father’s face clouded over. My relief soon turned into dread.

“The Kostava is not our business. With Jakhua gone he’ll find his own way.”

Blood rushed so fast through my body, I could hear nothing but its pulse in my ears. As I looked up to my father, he had turned to Kirill. They were speaking in hushed whispers.

Anger seeped into my bones, and shaking, I shouted, “No!”

My father and Kirill turned to face me. My father looked at me in surprise. “No!” I repeated. “You have to save Zaal.”

My father’s face remained unmoved. I knew that silent expression. It was still a no. “Papa,” I argued, “he saved me! Jakhua had a knife to my fucking throat. He was going to kill me, out of hatred for you. But Zaal gave his life for me, he didn’t even hesitate. He was willing to give up his freedom for me!” My father shook his head, and before he could speak, I confessed, “I love him.”

The room hushed to a tense silence. My shocking confession hung in the air. My eyes were to the ground, but I forced them up to look into my father’s face, his face that was filled with disappointment and shock. “I love him,” I said again, pride filling my bones. I stepped forward. “And he loves me, too.”

“You fell for the Kostava?” my father said in disbelief.

I lifted my head and said, “He’s not just a Kostava. His name is Zaal. Zaal who, along with his brother, was taken by Levan Jakhua, and forced to watch the massacre of his family as a child. A child who was forced to be a slave for Jakhua for over twenty years. Zaal is not just a Kostava. He’s the perceived enemy who just sacrificed himself to save your only daughter!”

I panted from exertion. I heard my mama sniffing behind me. I turned to face her. “I love him, Mama,” I said with a trembling voice. “We have to save him. There’s no other choice for me.”

My mother looked over my shoulder at my father. I followed her gaze. He was livid. “No daughter of mine will be with a Kostava! I won’t accept it.” His voice lowered. “And I won’t risk my men rescuing a man from that family!”

Pain shattered my heart. I stumbled back. “Then you’ll lose a daughter,” I said, and meant every word. I watched as my papa’s angry expression faded into shock.

“Talia…,” he whispered. I shook my head, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

“No, he’s my everything. I won’t let him trade his life for mine, and do nothing to help. Don’t you think that a man who would sacrifice his own life in place of another’s deserves to be saved?”

Kirill stepped from behind my father and confirmed, “We will kill Jakhua, Talia, but we won’t send our men in for this man. Ivan’s right. We’ve already lost too many men in this fucking street war. I won’t risk more.” I stared at the Pakhan. And I knew that was that. His word was final.

I didn’t know what else to do.

But then Luka stepped further into the room and stopped beside me.

“Then risk me,” Luka stated. My head snapped up to see my brother’s hard face meeting that of our father and Kirill’s.

Kirill’s eyes narrowed. Father stepped forward. “Luka, we spoke about this—”

“I’m not Alik Durov,” he said coldly, cutting off our father’s words.

Father tensed, and Luka added, “And I’m not the Luka you knew. I’m someone new. Someone the gulag created. I can’t and won’t leave Zaal to suffer at that man’s hands again. His brother saved me. Nothing you say will stop me from feeling a kinship toward him.” Luka’s face hardened, and he emphasized, “I don’t give a fuck that he’s a Kostava. I don’t give a fuck if you won’t risk any of our men for him. Because I’m going in, and I’m stronger and more effective in the kill than twenty of our men put together.

“Zaal knew nothing of his family. He isn’t his father. He didn’t kill dedushka. But his brother saved my life, and he saved Talia’s.” He laughed sardonically. “So that family you hate so much, the Kostavas, the great ‘Tolstoi enemy’ have saved both of your children. And without Anri and Zaal, we would both be dead. You’d have no heirs to your fucking throne.”

My father blanched, and Luka, looking every inch a Bratva pakhan, added, “I was locked in a cage, mind fucked, incessantly raped, and made to fucking kill. There is no way that I’m leaving Zaal to that same fate. He was taken as a child and forced in every way like me. And just like me, he won’t ever be that boy who was captured. That boy was made into someone else, just like me. He’ll forever be Zaal Kostava and 221, just like I will always be Luka Tolstoi, and 818. A part of me will always be Raze. And nothing will ever fucking change that.”

Luka looked down at me. “I’ll get him out, Tal. I swear it to you, as your brother, and as your knayz.”

Luka turned to leave, when my father stepped forward. Luka stilled.

“Luka,” our father said, and cleared his throat. “I am proud of you in this moment. I am so very proud.”

The Pakhan nodded in agreement, and lifted his chin. “You sound like a true knayz, Luka. I’ve been waiting to see this rise in you. Who knew it would have been a Kostava that inspired this change.”

Luka swallowed, and reaching for Kisa’s hand, silently led her out of the door, to their house three doors down.

The room was stifled and tense, and I could feel a shift in atmosphere. Getting to my feet, I walked into my mother’s waiting arms, when my father came forward. I braced for his wrath, for his judgment and disappointment. Instead, he took me in his arms and pressed a kiss to my head.

With glossy eyes, he stepped back. “I couldn’t have lost you, too, Talia,” he said gruffly, causing my resolve to crack. I pulled back, but my father turned away, and dismissed my mother and I with a wave of his hand.

My mother took me from the living room and into my bedroom. As the door shut, she sat beside me on my bed. Reaching out, I took her hand and asked, “What now?”

Mother sighed, and with the experienced strength of a true Bratva wife, she said, “We wait, Talia. We sit calmly, and we wait.”