Where the Wind Whispers (Seasons of Betrayal Book 3) (24 page)

They were still alive.

That counted for something.

“I love you,” she whispered against his back. “I’m here, okay? Whatever you want or need, I’m here, Kaz. I’m sorry.”

“Think, breathe,” he repeated gruffly.

That was what he wanted.

She got what he was saying well enough.

“Don’t I do that for you?” she asked.

“Of course, but right now, I’m not—” Kaz’s words cut off, and he blew out a hard breath.

She understood without him finishing his explanation. His body was so tense that even her hands running over the ridges of his abdominal muscles had him shaking and jumping. His muscles flexed hard under her light touches, like he wanted to get out of her hands and stay there at the same time.

Whenever she needed him to listen or to hear her, all she had to do was touch him, and all of his attention would be on her in an instant.

It was their strange connection—always had been.

They always communicated far better in bed, or even just when they were alone or touching. It didn’t matter, but it was
true
.

Strange, but true.

But this was not the same because she knew he was so angry, and he was always so careful to never give more than she could take when they were together, even if their fucking or loving was its own sort of rough.

He didn’t want to take from her, she thought, because he didn’t know what she could take.

Violet knew.

She wanted to let him think—let him breathe.

Or if he needed, he could feel nothing for a while.

“Kaz,” she said against his back, soothing and calm, “let me help you.”

He shook his head again, but his refusal quickly melted into a low, thick groan when Violet’s hand slid down from his stomach and found his cock. Already semi-hard, she only had to stroke him once, twice, then three times in a tight grip. She felt his length pulse under her hand, and she knew it wouldn’t take much more to get him where he would react.

“Violet,” Kaz started to say.

Her teeth found a muscle in his back and bit down hard enough to quiet him and likely hurt.

Kaz hissed, but he didn’t move away.

Her free hand dragged down his stomach and over his hip, her nails scoring into his skin and tattoos with just enough force to make him
feel
.

“Let me help,” she repeated.

Kaz let out a shaky breath. “I feel like I want to fucking kill something, Violet. And
this
is what you’re doing? You’re playing with fire.”

She could handle him.

Whatever he threw at her, she’d take it and fucking smile.

She knew why he was hesitant, of course. This was the first time they had been able to be together since the baby was born—life was too busy, her two-week wait had passed quickly, and neither of them had even noticed it going by.

Between the things her father was doing, and then Ruslan being attacked, plus Kaz being gone almost more than he was home … and when he was home, he was not himself.

Fucking was the very last thing on his mind and even hers. And maybe that was part of the problem because there was no talking, no quiet time, and certainly no
them
.

They were important.

So yeah, she understood why he’d be hesitant.

But none of that mattered.

“How about you fuck me instead, huh?” Violet kissed the back of his shoulder blade. “Use me a bit, focus on that, fucking me like you do, and start new tomorrow. You can do that, can’t you?”

Kaz didn’t reply, and Violet knew she’d have to push him a little further.

Her fingernails dug into his lower back deep enough to leave crescent marks, and she squeezed his erection hard enough to make his breath catch. “You treated me like a piece of shit—the least you could do is fuck me and make me feel like it, too, Kaz.”

Violet lost all of her breath for a second as she was suddenly spun around, her back hitting the tiled wall with enough force to make her spine protest. Her husband’s hand found her throat, his thumb digging into to the soft flesh with a bit more force than the rest of his fingers.

When she swallowed, she felt his thumb sweep against her skin.

Kaz met her gaze, dark and sneering. “That’s what you want to use on me, sweetheart?”

She knew she probably looked like quite a sight to him drenched in water and in nothing but her lace bra and panties, but she didn’t care.

As long as he focused on her.

The more he did, the less angry he would be.

He could work it out with her.

She didn’t
care
.

“Come on,” she urged, the tips of her fingers dancing across the length of his erection.

Kaz held her firmly to the wall. “Stop.”

“Do you want me on my knees so you can fuck my mouth and then you don’t have to bother with making sure I get anything?”

His jaw clenched, eyes flashing with an unspoken warning.

Violet pressed on. “Don’t you want to just fucking feel for a while?”

His fingers tightened on her throat, his other hand came to lay flat on her stomach. She watched him watching her for those few seconds, knowing what he would choose and being silently happy for it.

She needed him back.

“I’m letting you use me—do it,” she said. “Or can’t you?”

That did the trick.

Kaz’s sneer was replaced by a flash of his earlier anger a second before he shoved her roughly to her knees. The smack of the hot tile against her bone was enough to make her wince, but she couldn’t even think about the pain for long because his hand was tangled in her hair and tugging firmly. Violet opened her mouth the second the tip of his hard cock touched her lips.

There was no question there, just him demanding silently.

And once her mouth was open, he was fucking relentless, shoving his cock in until her throat muscles constricted and she thought she might gag. But his hand only tightened around her throat, keeping her still and forcing her muscles to relax as he pulled away, and then his hips flexed forward even harder.

Violet let her lips tighten around his length, and she could taste him on her tongue—the saltiness of his pre-cum and the silkiness of his shaft. The pulse of his heartbeat throbbed in the vein on the underside of his cock, beating hard against her tongue as she flattened it along his length with every thrust.

“Fuck,” Kaz growled, his gaze narrowed and his hand shaking. “Was this what you fucking wanted from me, Violet? You wanted it like this, yes?”

Her scalp stung from the force he was using to keep her in place. His pace was brutal; he barely gave her time to breathe, and it felt like he went a little deeper with each thrust.

And even with that bite of pain, she still found herself enjoying it all.

Especially the way he looked above her, on his own edge of control, shaking, gritted teeth, and clenched muscles.

She couldn’t help the moan that bubbled its way out of her chest and spilled from her lips, reverberating against his cock as he fucked her mouth.

Harder
, she wanted to tell him.

She didn’t care if he made it hurt—as long as it felt good to him.

Violet let her fingernails dig into his thighs, giving back just enough of that same sting and ache to him. It didn’t faze Kaz in the slightest; he just fucking
laughed
at her like he wanted more because it felt good.

So she did it again, harder the second time.

It was only when she felt that telltale tremor in his thighs did he pull back, his cock dragging against her teeth as he came free of her mouth.

“Get the fuck up,” he demanded, his hand tugging on her hair to get her to her feet.

Violet managed not to slip on the tile but barely.

And when she did get to her feet, he was shoving her around, forcing her back to his and then pushing her up on the small ledge in the shower.

Anticipation and the slightest bit of hesitation filled Violet.

He’d had that ledge put in for a reason. With their height difference, if he wanted to fuck her from behind while they were standing up, then she needed to be on something that gave her a few inches.

That ledge was it.

The ledge was a foot wide and about six inches high. It went around the whole shower like a step.

She barely got the chance to steady herself on the ledge before his hand was at the back of her throat, squeezing tight and pushing her head against the tile wall. She only had the chance to peek over her shoulder before he was pushing her face back against the wall, and a sting radiated over her thighs and between her legs. He’d
ripped
the lace panties right off, and all she could do was
sigh.
Violet’s hands splayed out on the cold, wet wall only a breath before Kaz’s cock was pressing between her thighs and pushing inside her pussy.

He didn’t give her any time to breathe—no chance to accommodate him or to make sure her body was ready for him. He just fucking pushed in, pulled out, and then slammed his hips into her ass hard enough to make her whimper.

“Jesus,” Violet mumbled.

“You wanted it,
krasivaya
.”

She did.

“Give it to me—make it fucking
good
.”

She was a little angry with him.

Pissed that he’d let himself get so entirely out of control that this was where they were left. Fucking against the shower wall because he was so angry that he didn’t even want her to look at him and she just needed to feel something from him for one goddamn second.

And she could feel everything.

He pulled her hair, making her whine.

His hand cracked down against her ass, making the pain bloom into something beautiful and raw.

She let her fingernails drag down his arms, leaving reddened marks behind as his teeth buried into her shoulder.

Fucking asshole
, she told him.

Fucking take it
, he said right back.

Violet’s muscles protested, even as she felt the telltale tremors of her orgasm beating through her bloodstream. Her throat was raw from crying out, and she was pretty fucking sure she’d broken a nail or two on Kaz and the damn wall.

But she still couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Every drag of his cock against her walls brought her closer—every harsh word in her ear made her ask for more, harder … anything.

And he gave it all.

It was only when she was spent against the wall, the bliss of an orgasm still racing through her body, did she feel him finally let go.

His come painted her back, leaving warm streaks against her skin.

But she heard him, through her own haziness and the water still beating down on them.

“Fuck, I love you, Violet.”

And that, she knew, was why they’d be just fine.

He loved her too much to fail.

“I’ve never liked you.”

Those weren’t the first words Kaz had ever expected to say to his mother-in-law, but as he stared at the face of a woman who hated his guts, they felt appropriate. She had finally regained consciousness some time along the ride, and thankfully, the gag was still in her mouth because she’d immediately started shouting the second she realized that he sat across from her.

“Violet told me all about you,” he said sitting back in his seat, gazing out the window. “I never understood why a mother would treat their daughter the way you treated Violet. What excuse could you have possibly used to rationalize the jealousy you feel for your daughter?”

Whatever she said was muffled behind the gag, but Kaz could take one look at her face and knew what she couldn’t say. But even if he couldn’t read her, he knew the real reason.

The one she was probably too ashamed to say.

Kaz knew women like her—had even slept with a few—the kind who based their worth on the approval of a man. She was jealous of her daughter simply because she thought Alberto loved Violet more.

That would almost be understandable coming from Carmine—even Kaz had been privy to the way Alberto had treated his only son. But Andrea? She was Violet’s fucking
mother
—she had no excuse.

“Don’t worry, though,” Kaz said as he patted her head. “We’ll have an answer soon enough.”

Nine minutes later, they arrived at Kaz’s favorite place—the remote warehouse he liked to conduct business in. Even with both hands, he couldn’t count the number of Italians he had brought to this place and strung up.

Climbing out of the back of the van, Kaz rolled his shoulder, stretching his arms as he walked to the doors. Before he even made it halfway across the lot, he heard the voice of the other guest of honor.

But even knowing Carmine was in there wasn’t enough to bring a smile to Kaz’s face.

He was dead inside.

The room fell silent as Kaz entered, and even Carmine stopped struggling long enough to glare at him a moment before his gaze cut to who they were dragging in behind him.

Colorful curses spat out of his mouth as he threatened Kaz in both Italian and English as his struggled renewed, scoring his skin with the force of his movement.

Kaz came to stand just before him, watching his mouth moving, even seeing the rage reflected in the man’s eyes, but he remained detached from it all. Like it was
happening
, but his mind refused to process what he was doing.

Only once they had Andrea tied up next to her son did Kaz finally deign to speak. “We all know why we’re here, yes?” To make sure he got an answer, he ripped the rag from Andrea’s mouth.

The second she could speak, Andrea did just that. “Wait until my husband gets—”

Kaz slapped her, the sound of his palm hitting her face echoing in the cavernous space. Grabbing her face, he turned her back around so that she was facing him. “I’m not in the mood for threats. Answer my question or keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Though she jerked away from him, stumbling on the tips of her toes, she didn’t speak again.

“Weeks ago, your husband, and your father,” he said with a nod to Carmine, “wanted me to choose between the people I love—I thought it only fair I return the favor.”

Ijor walked over to him, handing him the iPad Kaz requested he bring. A few taps and swipes of his finger and he was on the screen he needed.

“But I’m not a bad man. I’ll even offer you something he didn’t offer my family.” His lips curled of their own volition, and in the reflection of the tablet he carried, he saw what had Carmine trying to take a step back.

Mania.

“Who wants to play a game? It’s simple, you understand. Who do you think Alberto Gallucci loves the most between you two? Who would he want to save?”

Carmine was the first to speak. “He would never
choose
.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Kaz asked.

He had no answer that time.

“Let’s call and see, yes?”

Glancing at the time, he made the call. It rang three times, and then the picture showed up. Alberto appeared in the center of the video looking confused a moment before he smiled, as though pleased to see Kaz.

“It’s good to see you, boy, though I don’t know why you’re calling tonight. Have you decided to concede?”

“You gave me something—I’m simply returning the favor. Question for you,” Kaz said before he held the device up so the man had a clear view of Carmine and Andrea behind him. “Who do you love the most? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Kazimir, what do you hope to accomplish by doing this?” Alberto asked, and though he tried to temper his reaction, Kaz could see that he had caught the man off guard.

And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Kaz had gotten one up on him.

“Simple question, but if you don’t want to answer, I understand.” Kaz stepped away from them, though not very far. “Here’s the deal. Either you die, or I’ll take everything you hold dear.”

Alberto was silent a moment before his laugh cut through the speaker. “And do you expect me to shoot myself in the head, too, then?”

Sighing, Kaz retrieved the gun from his belt, aimed and fired a round into Andrea’s arm.

Over her agonized wail and Carmine’s shouts, Kaz said, “There goes the drawing arm. What’s next, Gallucci? Would you like her to be a paraplegic too? I can start at her knees and work my way up.”

Alberto was no longer smiling. “What do you
want
?”

“Pick one—choose and I’ll let one of them live.”

Carmine shouted something at his father, his voice desperate and pleading. Kaz knew the choice he would have made, and he knew what he would be shouting at his father.

He would gladly die for his mother.

Was Carmine ready to make the same sacrifice?

Except, whatever he was saying only seemed to annoy Alberto more. “Shut up! Enough of your whining.” But as quickly as his attention was on his son, it was now back on Kaz. “You think to make me weak, Kazimir, but it won’t work. I will put a bullet in each of them myself before I let you use them against me—that’s my promise to you.”

Kaz wasn’t sure who looked more shocked, Carmine or Andrea who immediately started to cry and wail louder than before.

“There has to be something that means the world to you, Alberto.
Something
you would give your life for.”

Alberto had met his gaze before his hand lifted and he said, “Not anymore.”

He ended the call.

As soon as the screen went dark once more, Andrea’s sobs grew louder, to the point that they were all Kaz could hear.

Neither, Alberto had said …

So be it.

Raising his arm, he fired two more shots, silencing Andrea’s cries once and for all. She hung like a limp doll, blood starting to pool at her feet.

“You’re a dead man, Markovic. You hear me? You’re
dead
.”

Kaz shook his head in the face of Carmine’s rage and anguish. “You should think very carefully about how you respond to me—especially when I hold your life in my hands. You knew someone would have to answer for everything Alberto has done.
You
knew this.
I
knew this. So if we both know, why did he leave you to be found? While he remains hidden away, it only took an hour to drag your ass from bed and get you here. Have you asked yourself
why
?”

He waited for a response but didn’t get one.

“Alberto doesn’t give a fuck about you, or me, or anyone else—except Violet. So as long as I’m in the picture, he’s going to destroy the city just because he’s a child who’s lost his favorite toy. So tell me, are you ready to die for your father’s obsession?”

Carmine ground his teeth, his gaze cutting over to his mother a moment before turning back to Kaz. “What do you want, Markovic?”

Music to his ears. “Hand him over and swear to no retribution, and I’ll let you leave this room alive.”

Carmine cursed, jerking his head. “You’re asking me to—”

“Take the same deal our fathers made before us,” Kaz cut in before he could finish. “You heard the man. He doesn’t care whether you live or die—do you? Besides, who will your organization fall to with him in the ground?”

“And my mother?” Carmine asked a question of his own.

“I won’t cut off her fingers and toes,” Kaz offered obligingly.

The Italian didn’t look like he contemplated the offer very long. “Fine.”

“Good man.” Kaz waved for one of his men to hit the lever and drop Carmine back onto his feet. “When I finish with him, dump them both out in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“What the fuck, Markovic?” Carmine demanded. “We had a deal!”

“And we do, but you wouldn’t think it would look suspicious if you just walked out of here.” Kaz shook his head, even as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “No, you have to look like you earned it.”

By the time Kaz stopped laying into the man, Carmine was barely breathing.

Alive when he made it out of those doors, Kaz had promised him.

He never said he would stay that way.

Violet moved around the kitchen with ease, making sure to peek around the island occasionally to make sure Anastasya was still enjoying her rocking cradle. The flat screen droned on in the background with some news program she had turned on, though she was more interested in getting breakfast cooked rather than watching television.

She didn’t notice Kaz slipping into the room until he was leaning against the far wall, watching her.

Violet hesitated in her work but continued to stir the scrambled egg mixture as she took in her husband. He’d been … strange for a while, progressively going further inside his head and trying to fix the hell that was all around them. She thought—maybe—she had helped that night in the shower, if only for a short while, but she couldn’t be sure.

And now, looking at him wearing the same clothes he had the day before, and knowing damn well he hadn’t spent the night in bed with her like he usually would, she thought perhaps she hadn’t helped him at all.

“You hungry?” she asked.

Kaz didn’t reply.

Violet sighed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer that time, either. She peered over her shoulder at him, only to find he was watching the television. That distance in his gaze never really left, though it killed her to see it staring back at her every day.

They needed their
normal
back.

She hated her father for taking it from them for even one second.

“Kaz.”

Silence echoed.

It was only then that Violet noticed a row of scratches across the side of his cheek now that his head was turned to watch the television. And his shirt … a reddish, ruddy brown stained the sky-blue silk.

She knew what those stains were—blood.

He’d not come home the night before, and in his frantic state, she’d worried about that but knew there wasn’t much she could do.