Madness (Revenge Series Book 3) (3 page)

I clench my jaw in agitation, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

I swallow down the newly formed feelings and reply, “Cubby is the only man I know who’s been freed from the Vory V Zakone and lived. We worked very closely together. If I had to be sent on a job with anyone, I preferred Cubby.”

I hold the smile back when I think of my old acquaintance. Cubby has a past similar to mine. A single mother raised him. She had died when he was a child after she plunged a heroin-filled needle into her arm. She spent her days whoring herself out for drugs while Cubby lay in his bed, crying from starvation. Cubby was very young. No one was there to help him, and there was nowhere for him to go. He was sent to the same orphanage as I was, but I was long gone by then.

We actually met during my first stint in the juvenile detention center. He was angry and looking for an outlet. Stravinsky picked up on that, as he did with me, and Cubby and I were taken under his wing. I didn’t spend too much time with him when we were first involved because of my brother and Stravinsky’s fascination with having identical twins working under him. But, soon after I helped my brother escape, Cubby became a household face amongst Stravinsky’s group of
thieves
.

“How did he manage to get out?” Josslyn unfastens her hair from the twist and begins running her fingers through the strands. She shakes it out, the smell of her lavender shampoo filtering through the air. It makes me stir with excitement. “I mean, I thought once you’re in, that’s it. Blood in, blood out—”

“That’s exactly right, my dear. If you want to earn the stars on your shoulders and knees, you have to be willing to do what your leader asks, which usually means you’re taking a life. Stravinsky was different, though. Of course, you need to kill, but you need to do it in the manner he demanded.”

“I don’t know why Cubby officially wanted out. Rumors swarmed that it was because he fell in love with the whore he frequented, but that was never shared beyond Stravinsky and him. He was presented with an impossible task. He had to take out an entire Ukrainian crew. It was much like Stravinsky’s at the time. The task would be impossible for some of the best assassins this world has seen, but not for Cubby. He was responsible for killing over twenty men. I had to kill five to be awarded my stars.” My skin twinges above my shoulders where my stars are located. Before I made it to Blythe Harbor, I ran my knife over the ink, Xing across them, denouncing my affiliation with the Vory V Zakone.

“I’m assuming he was successful considering we’re on our way to see him.”

“Yes, and he did it all with one loaded clip.”

Josslyn’s blue eyes widen in shock, her mouth frozen in a stunned line.

“He’s a master assassin. Many of his skills are just as good as or better than mine. He is extremely intelligent, which makes him deadly. He’s a dangerous man, Josslyn. If he doesn’t want to see me, he will kill me—kill both of us.” I look at her with a cold, hard stare.

She has to know this will not be an easy task. Cubby has gone off the map, living in one of the most dangerous places in the world—Chechnya. The situation in the country is unstable. Around every corner, violent crime lurks in the shadows. Between the government and the Chechen guerillas in constant battle, going there undetected will be nearly impossible. However, having a young, beautiful American woman beside me may be worse. I might as well cover our bodies in neon paint because Josslyn will be worth millions on the black market.

“So, why would Victor send you to speak to him if he’s been out for so long? I mean, is this Cubby guy still connected to Stravinsky?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. We have to go there to find out.”

.*.*.*.

August 14, 2015 3:36 a.m.

Our conversation made the last hour pass quickly. One moment, I was staring at a blank road, and when I blink again, the bright lights of Vegas reflect in the distance.

I ease off the highway, preparing to find a quiet, locally owned motel on the outskirts of the city to crash for the night before the long flight to Zurich. I need to assess the wound in my shoulder and possibly put new stiches in it as well.

By the time I pull into a motel parking lot, my arms ache, and my legs itch to stretch. I shut the car off and roll my head around, popping my neck, which helps my aching muscles.

“You know …” Josslyn singsongs as I start exiting the car. Her eyes are locked on the bright lights off in the distance. I turn then tuck my leg back into the car, shutting the door behind me. “It would be nice to do something fun for a change.”

I smirk. “You’re telling me you haven’t had fun the last couple of days?”

“Well, let me give you a recap. Let’s see … I’ve been abducted, beaten, interrogated, and shot at. I’ve become a liar, thief, murderer, and a con artist. All and all, it’s hardly been fun.”

“On the contrary, my dear. You’ve also sought after and executed to fruition a fifteen-year revenge, fended off a man who was trying to kill you, worn fine clothing, and … had sex with yours truly.” I wink at her and smugly flash my smile again.

She is trying to hold her mouth in a firm line, but it’s hard for her to deny, and the corners of her mouth start to rise.

“See? You’ve been having a good time.”

“Speaking of that”—she places her hands in her lap and knots her fingers together—“what was with that, anyway?”

I break my gaze and look out the windshield. The scene around me fades away when I remember the sight of Josslyn’s body bent over the hood of my auto. Her breasts were pushed into the black steel, her curves blending with the curves of the car. Her naked, supple ass posed perfectly as her legs were splayed wide.

My dick twitches and presses against my zipper when the memory of the heat of her body encasing mine consumes it. She had me clenched tightly inside of her. The sensation was unbelievably perfect and scarring. Nevertheless, I need to rid myself of the disconcerting, unknown feelings that seem to always be present when Josslyn and I are alone.

I turn back to her. “It was exactly what it was, my dear—sheer and utter need. A release of tension; that’s all.”

Her eyes flash disappointment for a stark moment then switch back. She puts up the wall to her unabashed inner thoughts. She doesn’t allow too many, if any, men to see what she’s holding on the inside. For a moment, I find that funny. Normally, it would be me who is withdrawn emotionally, not the woman. Yet here we are.

“Fine, but I still want to have some fun. If my demise is right around the corner, then why the hell would I want to stay in another shitty motel and shower with the cockroaches when you are loaded with cash and we are a few miles from luxury hotels on the Vegas strip?”

“Are you considering the Ritz Carlton a shitty hotel?”

“No, that was nice, but I never got to enjoy it. We dressed, slept, and killed our way out of that place. I want to soak in a large bathtub or get a massage. Actually, I really want to get dressed up, blow your money at the tables, and get drunk.” She smiles large, and it’s nearly impossible for me to tell her no.

“As you wish, my dear.” I pull the car away from the motel and head in the direction of the Las Vegas strip, thinking the entire time that this could possibly be a huge mistake.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Josslyn

August 14, 2015 7:15 p.m.

I
can’t believe I’m living in this moment right now. I’m standing in front of the window in our beautiful suite at the Bellagio Hotel, looking at a breathtaking sight. The fountains out front are illuminated as they dance in time to the music. The Eiffel tower of the Paris Hotel glows a bright yellow light, and the backdrop of the hotel gives a small slice of Las Vegas elegance. Pictures or postcards cannot even encapsulate the majesty of light and color. The mountains in the distance glow with hues of purple and amber as the sun begins to tuck itself away for the night. The entire sight is spectacular, and for the briefest of moments I can forget why I am really here.

Nikolai spared no expense when getting us the best room the Bellagio had available for the night. When I rode the elevator up and opened the door to the penthouse suite, my jaw fell to the floor. The presidential suite at the Ritz was beautiful, but I really don’t remember what it looked like. I was too involved with our plan, and my new identity was too fresh in my blood. However, now, I have had some time to get connected with my new self and adjust to Nikolai’s lifestyle, and I have to say, in this moment, I am glad I did.

When we walked through the door, my shoes connected with the light marble tile, a floor so pristine my reflection smiled back at me. The space is vast, much bigger than my crappy one-bedroom apartment at home. There is a small half-bathroom off to the left of the main door and a mini bar to the right. You walk straight ahead to the sitting room area with elegant furniture, an excellent view of the strip, and a large flat screen television mounted on the wall.

Aside from the marvelous view, it’s the bathroom that had me smiling. There is a huge soaking bathtub tucked in the corner of the room with an array of fine soaps, lotions, and oils placed on the edge. There is muted lighting surrounding the tub, and it took me all of five minutes to get the water filled and start soaking my body inside.

Nikolai showered while I was submerged in the bubbly heaven. It momentarily felt strange because it seems we have started to become more comfortable with one another. I can’t allow myself to get too relaxed around him, though. I have a mission to complete, and he’s the person who is going to help me get there. But, when it’s all said and done, he will be my prisoner, going to jail for the rest of his life. That detail cannot be forgotten.

Although I was naked, he couldn’t see me hidden under the bubbles. He, on the other hand, had no problem stripping down and getting into the shower. In fact, he’s never had an issue, which I find alarming. I don’t know if he does it because he’s brainwashing me or if he’s really comfortable in his own skin.

Nikolai simply showered, brushed his teeth, and passed out in bed. He did drive almost ten hours while I slept most of the way, so I could see why he wasn’t willing to wait for me to get out of the tub in order for him to shower. This was fine by me. I intend to enjoy this tub for hours.

Now, as I stand at the window, looking down at the shiny lights below, Nikolai is suddenly standing behind me. I turn, breaking my gaze from the dancing fountains. He’s holding two Martini glasses, one close to his chest, the other being proffered to me. He looks dapper, dressed in all black: suit, shirt, tie, and even his cufflinks are shiny black diamonds. His hair is neatly combed to the side, a day’s worth of stubble removed and exposing his sharp jawline.

As we lock eyes, my insides swirl with excitement when I see the same expression reflecting in his light blue gaze.

His eyes break away from mine as he scans down the length of my body. The Macy’s personal shopper insisted I get a little black dress when I made my purchases a few days ago. According to her, a woman always needs a black cocktail dress in her wardrobe.

The satin dress is very classy yet hugs my curves the way Nikolai’s leather gloves fit over his hands. It clings to my waist and hips, landing just above my knees. The one strap crosses over my chest and left shoulder, exposing my clavicle and keeping my breasts covered but looking perfectly poised.

My favorite has to be the four-inch Jimmy Choo black pumps. While Nikolai was sleeping, I may have snuck out of the room and taken advantage of what was left over from my shopping excursion at Macy’s to purchase some designer shoes. They were relatively the cheapest, going for a mere two hundred and twenty-five dollars. They are very elegant, made of fine leather and sheer netting, and surprisingly comfortable.

I dried my brownish-blonde hair straight and smoothed it out with the straightener. As I was applying my makeup, I was glad the stylist had left me samples after they primped me for my dinner with Vlad. I covered my eyes with a smoky gray shadow and finished the look with bright red lips.

“You look stunning, Josslyn.” Nikolai strides toward me, setting the drinks on the dresser before lifting my hand to his lips. His kiss is warm, and it charges me with an aching, delicious heat.

“Thank you. You look nice, as well,” I say in return, stepping away from his aura that always seems to pull me closer.

He hands me my drink, and I look at the olive floating in the glass.

I tip the crystal to his and toast, “To a night of fun.”

“To our
last
night of fun,” Nikolai says, killing the positive vibes I was trying for.

“You do know how to set the mood, don’t you?” I roll my eyes and expel an exasperated breath. I just wanted to live in my bubble of happiness for one night, and he goes and says something to bring it all crashing down. “I need to eat,” I say, feeling my stomach groan in agony.

“Let’s go down to the bar and get a drink while we decide where we want to eat.” Nikolai finishes his martini while I take another sip, choking down the bitter drink.

He ushers me out of the room, holding his elbow out like a gentleman. I thread my arm through his, grasping his hard bicep.

We make our way through the crowd of people on the casino floor and down a longer, quiet pathway. The smooth sounds of jazz start to become more apparent the farther we walk.

We stroll through the entrance to the Baccarat Bar, and I am immediately swept away by the ambiance. The amber lighting is muted and dances off the plush leather furniture scattered throughout the room. There is a man playing a grand piano with a small quartet of men playing stringed instruments behind him. The melody is exotic and sensual, sending shivers down my arms.

Nikolai finds a quiet place for us to sit, tucked away in the corner of the room but in plain view of the rest of the establishment. He holds his hand in mine and guides me down to the white, plush couch then unfastens the button on his suit coat and sits beside me. His clean scent infiltrates the air, sending more electrifying shivers throughout my body. I do my best to put a little space between us, but there isn’t much room on the small sofa.