Disbelief (Smirnov Bratva Book 2) Read online

  “It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I should’ve kept you away. I should have insisted.”

  “You can’t control me, I wouldn’t have listened no matter what you said.”

  “I’m going to call Maso. I just want him to come and check on you. Okay?”

  I start to shake my head. “You’ll just make things worse. You already have issues with your family.”

  “This may turn into a war, just because of the person I love. Yes, true, but he’s my brother, and he loves me. So he will do it.”

  I knew there’d be issues. Major issues. She’s with her family’s sworn enemy and a dangerous one at that. No good will come out from it. She should be worried about herself, not me.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say effectively ending the conversation as I leave the car, shutting the door and walking to my apartment building.

  Chapter 3

  Death

  I lie here awake, but my eyes are closed. There’s blackness all around me, darkness all around me—gloom, shadows, death. Then there’s my family, who’s considered dark, scary, the most likely to kill. I knew this from an early age—a very early age. At the age of ten, I saw my first body.

  Yes, at the age of ten—you did hear that right.

  That was the age I touched my first body. My brother worked in the family crematorium much to my father’s disappointment. He’s always been close to Kazier’s family. My father did all the dirty work for Kazier’s father, all the things that most didn’t want to do. He was their hitman. My brother didn’t like that part, so he turned to death. Destroying the bodies, defacing them so they could never be recognized.

  The day my father was shot to death, I was twelve. A role was expected of us—my brother and I—we were to take over from my father, to become the next hitmen of the family. We didn’t want it. Neither of us desired that assignment. Sebastian took the role because I was too young. He’s five years older than Kazier and I. So he was expected to lead our generation, the next generation.

  I became intrigued with what he’d do at night after his kills. How he would creep to the basement of our family home, dragging a body wrapped in black plastic.

  He’d see me standing at the top of the stairs every night waiting and watching for him to enter, then he’d wink at me as he hauled that body inside. I would wait until I heard the thump, thump, thump, down the stairs. Then I’d creep down them just a few steps and sit watching, as he either cremated or dismembered the body.

  “It intrigues you,” he said one night. I never spoke much, so all I gave him was a nod. He scratched his chin with his hand that was still gloved, then he looked up at me. “It’s very lonely.” He stopped when he said that last part, then smirked up at me. “It would suit you,” he said thinking about it, then waved his hand for me to come down and watch.

  Every night I’d follow him down and observe what he was doing, eventually taking over when I was sixteen. It was tiring to him—all the death and destruction and then came the after part—I could see it on his face. I don’t think it was so much the death that tired him, but who and how often he was doing it. He wasn’t a fan of Kazier’s father, he actually despised the man. So when I turned eighteen years old, I knew everything was about to change. I knew it the moment he came home one night without a body and just a gun tucked into his pants.

  I had started inking my skin, so far I’d only had half of my body covered. You couldn’t see a clean piece of skin on my left side.

  “I’m leaving.” His voice sounded like it penetrated through the walls at that time. Like it was an echo, and it wasn’t real. Both my parents dead, the only person I had left was Sebastian. Even if he didn’t show me affection, even if we hardly talked, he was it. “I’m going to Russia. Pakhan can’t say no. Not to this. I can’t stay in the hopes that one day I won’t have to do the parts I don’t want to do. I prefer the aftermath, just like you. Pakhan won’t give me that, he wants me as his hired hand. So I am going to work for Alexander. He’s struck a deal with Pakhan, that when Kazier comes of age, he will marry his daughter. Pakhan can’t say no to Alexander.” My head dropped. Sebastian didn’t try to soothe my feelings, he didn’t know how to. Hell, I didn’t even know how to. All either of us knew was death.

  I stayed clear of Kazier’s father for as long as I could after that night and hardly left my house. Knowing he’d requested I take over my brother’s work, I tried to avoid him. It was something, just like my brother, that I never wanted to do.

  Then just before I turned nineteen, Kazier and his father walked into my house. They asked me what I wanted to do, and I informed them I wanted death, nothing more.

  So death is what I got, and death is how I live.

  ****

  The years ended up blurring together, night after night I’d get a call to clean up. I now had a team that helped me carry out my tasks. They cleaned the mess at the scene, while I destroyed the bodies. It’s been like this for years. I ended up becoming more and more reclusive, talking to hardly anyone. Scarcely uttering a word unless it was needed.

  My brother’s calls became less and less the older I got. He would phone to see how I was doing, that was the extent of the calls. I’d even spoken to Freya’s father, he had offered me some work. He didn’t seem anything like Kazier’s father. He appeared more respected, and he gave respect. He spoke of my brother as if he was a godsend, and he wanted me. In the end, I refused. I’d become accustomed to my work, I loved my work. It didn’t involve speaking to people unless I had to. My work was just me and the dead body on the table.

  I stopped cremating bodies when I was twenty when I moved from my family mansion and left it vacant. I didn’t want to live in that house anymore. It was too big and contained too many reminders. So I bought a small apartment under the condition it had a basement. I didn’t want to travel back to that house every night to cremate, so I improvised. I dabbled in learning new techniques. I even bought a pet shark, but that didn’t work out as well as I had planned. My apartment was far too small. Therefore the tank was too small. So I killed it, watched as it suffocated and died. Death, what a fascinating thing it is.

  Then when I was in the hardware store one day I discovered acid. And what a beauty that turned out to be. I loved it, more than I adored fire.

  Music would be on—loud—my body covered. I would get lost in the sizzle, the breakdown. And before long it became me. The death.

  I wasn’t born with that name. Death. I actually picked the name up along the way. Kazier joked one day and called me Death. I nodded my head, and he was surprised. And now it’s the only name everyone knows me by. Only Sebastian calls me by my given name.

  Sebastian found out about me leaving the house, and about not using the cremator. He was intrigued to see what I do now, how I get rid of the bodies. I told him what I was doing, and he rang back the next night to tell me he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t stand the smell. I didn’t understand, it had never affected me. Then I could hear his emotions seep through the phone line, he was worried about me.

  Worried about how dark I’d become—was there anything left inside me. He said the killing part he couldn’t handle. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill, he just didn’t want to take part in doing that anymore. That was why he chose death because it was easier. It is. I don’t disagree, at all. The person can’t speak back, they don’t whinge and whine for their life. They just lie there, their soul already left. So it’s just a vessel, one I relish in destroying.

  He wanted me to come to him. I refused. I didn’t want to go anywhere. He pled with me to ask for a change of job. I also refused. So when he found out I was now under Kazier, he was pleased. He knew I’d isolated myself at home, he knew I hardly spoke to anyone but him. His voice sounded like optimism. I didn’t tell him I was made to do this job and that I had no choice. I just didn’t want to. You don’t say no, you never say no to your Pakhan. If you did, there was only one way to go. And it wasn’t in a body bag, it w
as in multiple body bags.

  Working with Kazier hasn’t been that bad. I’ve always held respect for him. He’s nothing like his father who will walk over anybody to get where he needs to be. No, Kazier is ruthless, don’t get me wrong. His fascination with blood is what mine is with death. He loves the kill as much as I love the aftermath. Though, he’s creating drama, very unwanted drama for the sake of love.

  Love, I still don’t understand it.

  He fell for the wrong woman, a woman who’s part of a family that’s our sworn enemy. Has been for as long as I remember, and more than likely will continue to be so until after I’m dead. It doesn’t matter that she hates her family, it doesn’t matter that they refuse to not be together. I will fight for him. I will kill for him. His choice in love won’t stop me from protecting him. My loyalty doesn’t lie with that, it lies with him solely as a person.

  Kazier was the reason I’ve kept to my job for as long as I have. He’s the reason I have a team, the reason I have money. He gets me what I want, what I need. He pushed his father, I know this, he’s told me so. He warned me one day that he would call on me, I just didn’t expect it to be so permanent. The only plus side is, he still lets me do what I want.

  A part of me wants to kill Elina, just for the simple reason of bringing Pollie into my life. I don’t need these emotions, or whatever they are that course through me every time that woman is near. I don’t even understand it, let alone want them.

  I think she did understand it. Pollie was always calm around me, which made me intrigued by her. Was it because she couldn’t see me? She couldn’t see what a monster I was, inside as well as out. I have ink on my face, tear drops from a child I had to get rid of. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, and as soon as I carried out my task, the tear drops were etched onto my face to signify and never forget them. To cry for someone that could cry no more, and to cry for me because I’ve not shed a single tear for as long as I can remember.

  The child was caught up in something that he shouldn’t have been involved with. His mother was a drug user who owed money to multiple dealers. When our team went there to procure the cash, gunfire was shot into her home and a child was inside.

  Evil, everyone is evil.

  A mother is evil, choosing drugs over the health and well-being of her child.

  Women are evil, using what’s between their legs to get what they want.

  Men are evil for using their power and fortitude to get exactly as they pleased.

  The world is full of it—except Pollie.

  I don’t understand her.

  I’m afraid I never will.

  I’m afraid I will kill her before I figure it all out.

  ****

  I can feel Kazier’s hands on me, closing the wound. My mind drifts in and out. I wake to his face hovering over me, then close my eyes and watch my past play in my mind. When I wake again, I’m in my bed. My shoulder’s bandaged, the past has stopped visiting. Now it’s just dreams, dreams of her.

  Kazier walks in as I sit up, the strain from my shoulder pulling like a bitch from where his woman shot me. He shakes his head as he stands at the door, looking to my wound then back to me.

  “You’re lucky she’s a good shot, she could have killed you. She should have killed you for being that fucking stupid.” He turns to leave, then looks back at me. “Try to stay away from her.” HHe closes the door quietly as he leaves.

  It wasn’t a threat, just advice. A caution I will try to heed.

  Chapter 4

  Pollie

  Elina tells me he survived. That he’s going to be fine with some time. She’s said I’m not to go to him. That I shouldn’t make contact with him again. He is dark, dangerous. I asked her to describe his appearance to me as I want to know how he looks on the outside. I’ve peeked into the inside, but he’s very closed off, and I want to know more. Curiosity is getting the better of me.

  It’s been almost a month since that night, and a month since Elina and I have seen each other. She calls, but doesn’t offer to meet with me. I don’t want this incident to affect our friendship, she’s my closest friend. I don’t have many, mostly only those who I work with.

  I currently play in musicals, very highly paid musicals. I’ve worked my way up. Practice and talent have earned me the concertmaster position of the orchestra’s first violin section. I’ve never turned down any offer, no matter where it was including traveling all over the world, and I’ve made some very high-profile friends. But I always come back home, because I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. This is where I still feel my family, and sometimes I need that reminder that I was once unconditionally loved.

  “How’s the engagement coming along?” I ask Elina. Noticing my hands are sore—I’ve been practicing too long—I rub them together trying to ease the pain.

  “He wants a party.” I hear the whine in her voice.

  “You don’t?” I ask confused.

  She laughs through the phone. “No. That’s like bringing the war to my door. I don’t want that. Someone will get shot, possibly even killed. Can you imagine? Congrats… then boom,” she says the last part loudly with a small nervous giggle.

  She told me a while ago that the night she drove me home she was sending her brother over. I won, and he didn’t come, so I wonder if he’ll even be invited. If any of her family will, in fact, be invited.

  “Do you celebrate engagements?” I remember vaguely her saying that Kazier’s family didn’t.

  “My family does, he knows this. His family… no. Not unless it’s for a publicity event.”

  “I want to come.”

  “Pollie…” she stops then whispers into the phone, “…Death is coming. He’s a part of Kazier’s family.”

  “I know, I wouldn’t ask for him to not to come. I’m fine with seeing him, Elina.”

  I actually think I am okay with it. Well, I’m hoping I am anyway.

  He wouldn’t do it again. Not with everybody around, would he?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is your brother going?”

  “He is. He isn’t by any means on friendly terms with Kazier and his people, but he respects it.”

  “Good. Get him to come get me. I can go with him.” I don’t want to, but I think that’s the only way she’ll say yes. No matter how her relationship is with him, she loves him, and he protects her.

  “Okay, it’s tomorrow night, I’ll call him now. Just promise me if you feel uncomfortable, you’ll tell me instantly.”

  I tell her, “Okay,” and wonder if it’s the right thing to do. To be near him again.

  ****

  My dress clings to my body, I can feel how it wraps around and grips to all the parts I usually keep well hidden. My usual attire is plain—simple jeans, shirt, and a scarf. Tonight, I wanted to dress up, knowing that everyone will be clothed smartly. I don’t want to be looked down on anymore. It’s not all about my disability, I hear it in their voices when people compliment me that they are not telling the truth. Like, I can’t read how their voice hitches up a notch while telling their lies.

  A knock comes on my door, and I know it’s Maso. My last encounter with him didn’t go well, I could sense his stare. It wasn’t a curious stare, it was more a come-hither feeling. I know that feeling anywhere, I’ve felt it for most of my life. Men love to watch, love to ogle. My senses are hyper aware, and they don’t realize that their stares feel just like a grope or a fondle. I can feel it inside me, inside my core, but they’re oblivious to my awareness.

  “Pollie,” he greets when I open the door. His hand comes to rest on my hip, then he draws me in and kisses my cheek. I hear his minute intake of breath as he breathes me in. It makes me uncomfortable, and I pull away.

  “Thanks for this, Maso,” I say, reaching around and grabbing my bag and my cane. Maso hooks his arm through mine as we walk out of the building, and he opens the door of his car. I sit quickly and listen as he climbs in, starts the ignition and pulls out into the traf
fic. “Are you nervous?” I ask him out of curiosity. He is, after all, going to a gathering that’s contradictory to his beliefs—these are supposedly his sworn adversaries. People have died for less from what Elina tells me.

  “No. Though I would be if my father knew I was going.”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “No. If he knew, you can guarantee bullets would be fired. This won’t be easy for them, our families despise each other. We’ve killed each other for less. This, my father’s daughter marrying the enemy, I can guarantee blood will be spilled. I’m just here to make sure it’s not hers.”

  His honesty takes me aback, I didn’t expect that kind of answer or the devotion in his voice. He clearly loves his father, though his protection of his sister out rules that all.

  “You don’t think Kazier can protect her?”

  He laughs dryly. “Yes, without a doubt. If anything, he’d kill everyone to protect her… even his own family. That’s what I’m worried about. If that happened, it would be a bigger clash than what’s already started.”

  The car comes to a stop and I open the door, but before I have a chance to get out, his hand is on my arm, guiding me.

  “Your tits look great,” he tells me.

  I shake my head, knowing full well he has a massive smirk on his face. “For a second there I thought you were a decent human being. Then you had to go and say that.”

  “Just stating the facts!” I feel him shrug as he guides me up the stairs.

  Hearing music and laughter when we enter, Maso keeps a firm grip on me as we make our way through the crowd of people. He halts, and I know he’s stopped in front of Elina. Her aroma is truly unique. She layers her scents, and I can smell the jasmine emanating from the shampoo she uses combined with the body perfume she’s wearing. With my heightened senses it’s a beautiful combination, I can always tell when she’s around.

  “I’m glad to have you here, Pollie,” Kazier expresses. I smile, and Elina leans in and kisses my cheek then takes my hand from Maso guiding me away.