Raze & Reap (65 page)

Minutes later, I pulled back. Something felt like it had changed between us. A peace
had
settled in my body. I looked at my wife, my beautiful, perfect wife, and I exhaled.

I lifted my hand and pressed it against her cheek, my stomach rolling at what I was about to confess. “
Solnyshko,
” I whispered almost apologetically, “tonight, I will kill again.”

Kisa closed her eyes and breathed sharply through her nose. “I know.” Kisa opened her eyes and tried to smile, saying, “because that's part of who you are, inside. A part of you needs to kill those you feel do wrong against those you love.
Raze
needs to kill to protect his family. And Zaal, he's your family.”

My eyebrows pulled down as I wondered if all this was a dream. But by the understanding look on Kisa's face, I knew it was real. She got me. She'd understood my biggest fear, and in only the way Kisa could, she made it better.

I could breathe.

I relaxed and I could breathe.

Kisa's expression changed and a blush coated her cheeks. Suddenly, she gripped my hand. “Luka,” she said as I brought her hand to my mouth.

“Yes?” I replied.

She turned around and reached into her purse. She then pulled something out, and clutched it in her palm.

With the picture hidden in her grip, she looked to me nervously. Squeezing my hand, she said, “I have something to tell you.”

I nodded, my stomach tensing at whatever she had to say. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand, and a picture was placed in her palm. Pushing it into my hand, I looked down at the small paper square and turned it over.

At first I wasn't sure what I was looking at, then I focused on the grainy black-and-white picture and all the air in my body left my lungs. I froze, unable to move as my hands began to shake.

My eyes snapped up and met with my wife's. “Kisa…,” I whispered. A tear ran over my cheek. “Are you … Is this…?”

My eyes fell to Kisa's stomach, and suddenly all the sickness, the paleness and tiredness she'd experienced of late, made sense. Taking my hand, Kisa laid it flat over her stomach. I watched her face as she smiled and nodded.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Yes,
lyubov moya,”
she whispered, “we're having a baby.”

Overcome with emotion and pure fucking happiness, I dived forward, lowering myself to the floor, between Kisa's legs. My hands splayed on Kisa's thighs, then drifted up to land on her waist. I lifted her shirt and pressed my lips to her soft skin. Kisa's hands threaded through my hair, and I closed my eyes and just breathed. It was what we'd always wanted. A baby. A little person made by the both of us.

A family. The start of our own little family.

Pulling back from pressing kisses on Kisa's stomach, my eyes met my wife's. “I love you,
solnyshko,
” I whispered, unable to express all I felt inside. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me so much. For understanding me like no one else.”

A cry broke from Kisa's throat, and she held me so close. We seemed to stay that way for a lifetime; I never wanted to move. Then I heard movement near the front door and I knew the
byki
were here.

With a final kiss to my hair, Kisa guided me backward and cupped my face. “You need to go and get Zaal, Luka. You need to give Talia and him the chance to love as deeply as we do.”

My eyes closed and I nodded. My hand lightly pressed over Kisa's stomach, and I rose to my feet. I stood looking at the back room, the room that held my weapons. I'd never gone into a fight without them before. But I also didn't want Kisa seeing that side of me. I wasn't sure she wanted to see me battle-ready. I didn't want her upset. Especially now.

Kisa stood and kissed me on my cheek. “Go, baby. Go be the man you need to be.”

I had no idea how she did that, how she could so perfectly read my mind.

Kisa urged me to move with her hand, and I stepped forward.

*   *   *

My heart thudded as I walked to the back room. My head was spinning with the news.

I was going to be a father. Kisa was carrying our child.

A feeling of deep peace washed through me at the thought of seeing my love full with our baby. And my heart felt free. Free now that Kisa had accepted the man I was. She'd accepted all of me.

Completely.

Without judgment.

I was free.

Walking into the back room, I began undressing. Throwing my stifling shirt and dress pants to the floor, I moved to the closet and opened the wide doors. Only three things were waiting behind this wood—my black sweatpants, my dark gray hooded sweatshirt, and my bladed knuckle-dusters. The three things that defined the man I'd fought so hard to hide. The man I'd been since I was fourteen, and the man I could no longer deny.

Reaching for the hangers, I removed the pants and slid them on my legs. I removed the hooded sweatshirt and slipped it over my arms, zipping up the front.

My head looked up at the final items left in the empty closet. My fingers tensed and my blood pumped with excitement. Adrenaline merged with the anticipation of the fight, with anticipation of the kill, of bringing death to Jakhua.

Lifting my clenching hands, I pulled out the cold pieces of steel and ran my fingers over the sharp pointed blades. With breath held, I slowly slid the knuckledusters over my fingers and breathed. My eyes closed as my fingers curled into fists and the sense of being home coursed through my veins.

I walked back toward the living room when I caught sight of me in the mirror hanging on the wall. I stopped dead and stared at the man looking back at me.

This was the man I knew—
Raze.

This was the man I held in my heart. This was me, the fighter, the one who maims. Slaughters. Kills.

Opening the door, I walked down the hallway and into the living room. Kisa was sitting on the couch. When I entered the room, her lips parted.

I stood still and watched her with wary eyes. Kisa got to her feet, looking beautiful in her black shirt and tight jeans. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her blue eyes captured me.

She stood before me, her sweet scent washing over me. A smile pulled on her pink lips. Her hands reached out and smoothed down over my gray sweater. Her hands moved down to my hands and over the spikes of my knuckledusters.

She huffed a laugh. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Solnyshko?”
I whispered, not wanting to see her cry.

She flicked her eyes up to mine, and said, “I didn't realize until this very moment how much I've missed you looking like this.”

My chest tightened. Kisa stepped closer again until she was flush to my chest. Her hands lifted and ran through my hair. “The man that with just one look I knew was my soul mate brought back to life … miraculously brought back to me.”

I lifted my hands to wrap around her waist, and her head tilted to the side. Her fingers ran under my eyes. “All you're missing are the smudges of eye black.”

I shook my head. “I'm not trying to hide who I am anymore. I know I'm Luka Tolstoi.”

Kisa nodded, fighting her tears, but her hands lifted to my neck and she placed my dark hood over my head. “No,” she whispered, and ran her finger softly down my cheek. “Like
this,
you're Raze.”

“Kisa,” I rasped, my throat now tight.

“Shh,” she soothed. “Go. Go and stop Jakhua. Go and bring Zaal back to Talia, back to us all. He belongs here. With us.” I stared at Kisa, unmoving. Then her hand took mine and she pressed it against her stomach. “And fight for us. Stop Jakhua for the safety of our child. For our little family, you have a reason to come back to us now,
lyubov moya
.”

I leaned forward and kissed Kisa's mouth, whispering against her lips, “I always had a reason, Kisa. You're the reason. You've always been the reason. You will always
be
the reason.”

I tasted Kisa's salty tears as they dropped to my lips. With one final kiss, I pulled away and walked to the front door.

Just as I was about to leave, Kisa's voice called from behind, stopping me in my tracks. “Luka.” I turned my head to see her standing in the middle of the room watching me leave. Then just as I was about to return and take her in my arms, she smiled affectionately and said, “
Raze hell,
baby.”

Expelling a sharp exhale, my chest filled with fire at those familiar words. I pounded out of the door and straight into Mikhail's waiting blacked-out van.

The
byki
in the back were all sitting calmly, waiting for my orders. As the passenger door shut, Mikhail pushed a rifle into my hands. I looked up to him, and he said, “As much as you scare the fuck out of me with those bladed 'dusters in the cage, I hope you know how to work one of these. The warehouse cellar where the Jakhua cunt hides out is gonna be filled with guards with rifles. You ain't gonna get much of a chance to fight these fuckers up close.”

I wrapped my hands around the rifle and said, “Don't worry about me. Worry about getting yourselves out alive.”

Murmurs sounded from the
byki
in the back of the van. As Mikhail started the engine, he turned and said, “I've worked for your papa now for fifteen years.” I looked at him and he was looking right back at me.

“Never, not once, in all the jobs we've been sent on, has the
knayz
or a pakhan fought beside us. Alik Durov fought in the Dungeon. He murdered on these streets for nothing more than he was a sick fuck. He treated our men like dogs, disposable soldiers for his amusement. But you, sir,
you
fight alongside us with pride, as a brother in arms. You give us pride for the Volkov family, and for our position in New York.” He glanced back to the watching now-silent
byki,
and said, “You've led us in every way since you came back. And every one of our brothers here, and the rest of the Bratva soldiers, would follow you straight into hell.” Mikhail shifted in his seat and added, “You'll be the best pakhan we've ever had someday, sir. And I'll be proudly standing by your side.
We all will
.”

Emotion clogged my throat at the brothers' faith in me, and I shared their pride. As I felt the steel of my 'dusters on my hands and the rifle sitting in my lap, I finally knew. I
knew
this was the life I was made for. The battle, the violence, the years of killing in the gulag, and brother to my thieves in law.

I
was
the motherfucking
knayz
of the Volkov Bratva.

And I wouldn't fail tonight.

I wouldn't fail until I wore the name pakhan in my heart. I wouldn't stop until I made us the strongest, most feared Mafia in all of New York.

I took a long deep breath.

I was finally fucking
home
.

 

20

ZAAL

Darkness.

Back in darkness.

I hated the fucking darkness.

The chains hung tight and heavy around my wrists and ankles. And the cell was freezing cold.

I didn't know how long I'd been back here in this hell, but it was long enough to miss the sun. It was enough to miss the light.

My stomach churned in pain. I had to close my eyes and breathe through my nose when I thought of what I missed most.

Talia. My Talia.

Anger filled my chest when I thought of her hanging off the chains, bloodied and beaten, with Jakhua holding a knife to her throat.

She was so strong. Begging with her eyes not to exchange my life for hers. But that was never a possibility. My heart, my heart would never survive losing her. It was full for her. I would take the drugs to keep her safe.

Talia would be safe.

The sound of a guard entering the cell pierced through the dark. Footsteps approached me. A bright light suddenly flared. I flinched away from the flash of white.

“Get up,” the usual guard hissed, speaking in my native Georgian tongue. “Master wants to see you.”

“He's not my fucking master,” I snarled. The guard stepped back as I got to my feet and approached the door. I could see the fear on his face.

He was weak.

I held out my hands, but the guard didn't move. “I will not move,” I said. “Do what you came to do.”

The guard hung back. I could hear the rattle of the keys in his shaking hands. Fury took hold, and slamming my hand against the metal bars, I roared,
“Do it!”

The guard jumped into action and unlocked the door. I held out my hands. Gripping the chain he led me down the dank hallway and to a dark room at the end. My skin pricked as flashbacks rushed into my brain.
Needles, pain, screams … Anri … Anri …

The guard pulled on the chain. He threw open a door to a room. Suddenly, everything was familiar—the narrow bed, the straps that tied me down, the single light hanging from the roof, and the smell. The smell of chemicals, of the drug, the drug they pumped into my veins, the drug that made me forget.

I didn't want to forget.

I didn't want to forget long golden hair, a pair of brown eyes and that smile. Talia's smile.

Someone entered the door behind me. I knew it was Jakhua. I could sense him. I could see his face in my mind as he ordered the death of my family. I could clearly hear his voice as he ordered his guards to shoot, and I could see that look of satisfaction on his face, as he told the guards to leave my family in a heap against the wall, slaughtered and piled up like culled pigs. And I remembered his face as he strapped my brother and me down, and pumped us full of liquid rage.

“Get him chained to the wall,” he said from behind me. The guard pulled me by my chains, doing as instructed.

I hung from the wall. Jakhua ordered, “Tighter.”

The guard pulled on the chains. I gritted my teeth as my arms stretched so wide that my arm muscles burned.