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Revenge Page 11


  “What do you mean, again?” Enzo snarls across the room at me.

  Shit.

  I’d hoped that my words would have been overlooked, but I should have known better. Enzo snaps and Dmitri squeezes my shoulder at the same time. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that they’re both pissed.

  “Huh?” I hope by feigning dumb, he’ll just drop it, but I know he won’t.

  “You said, ‘I was almost raped again’. What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not having someone follow me around every second of the day,” I huff.

  “It won’t be every second, only when you’re not on club property,” Reed snaps. He is furious, even more angry than before.

  “Fine, then I’ll take Elena or Michelle.” He glares back at me. We both maintain eye contact, knowing that he’ll have to choose his words wisely, especially since his wife is in the room with us.

  “You’ll take a male member of Skulls Renegade with you, that is final.”

  “And the fuck it doesn’t matter, Jen, tell me what happened.” Enzo’s my best friend, of course he would push me for answers. I just can’t believe that I slipped up like this. I really fucked up by giving them any information. I’ve always been so, so careful. Constantly thinking about my words, making sure that they were the right ones, not giving anyone any inch inside of my real life.

  “It’s in the past, it doesn’t matter,” I mumble, shooting off the couch. I start to wobble again, and Dmitri quickly rises from the couch and wraps his arm around me, stabilizing me from falling over.

  “The FUCK it doesn’t matter! You were raped, and you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me about that? I could’ve fucking done something!” Enzo doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand that he couldn’t have done anything. There wasn’t anything that could’ve been done to change my fate, no matter how much I tried. It took me a long time to realize that, and even to accept it.

  Just as I am about to speak, Dmitri cuts me off “Drop it, Enzo. She doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fuck you, Dmitri. I’ve been here for her for fucking years. You have been here, for what? Two fucking minutes? I can talk to her any damn way I want to.” I watch as the man holding me tightens his jaw, and the one standing across the room glares.

  “You her Ol’Man Enzo?” Enzo doesn’t say anything, just keeps glaring. “That’s what I thought. She’s my woman. You can’t talk to her like that, she isn’t your property, she is your equal, show some damn respect.”

  I don’t know how I should feel. I should be mad, mad at Dmitri for blatantly claiming me as his like I’m a goat, or dog. But I’m not. I’m grateful for the man who is protecting me from whatever he can.

  Chapter 16

  I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. - Neruda

  Dmitri

  Jenna has been furious the past couple days. She’s barely spoken a word to me and won’t even look in Reed’s direction. She doesn’t understand that this is for her protection. It’s not like we’re just doing this to her – it’s every woman in the club. None of them are leaving alone. We protect what’s ours. Our women. Our families. Our brothers. It makes no difference.

  I know deep down that it is because of her secrets. Something tells me there is so much more she is hiding, but after what she has been through, I know better than to press it immediately. But eventually, she is going to have to come completely clean with me, especially if I am going to be able to protect her. I get the feeling that she might need some protecting from her own damn self.

  Jenna has come to Bubba’s to be with some of the girls we have taken in. I take it upon myself to come into Bubba’s with her, getting an eye roll as I sit down at a table. I have more than one reason in mind for being here, though. I want to spend time with my sister and work back into being a family. I have had a lot of emotions tortured out of me, always thinking after surviving it all with Jimmy that I could never love or feel again, but Ksenia being here in the club makes me not only nervous for what might come next from my family, but also has me feeling that pull to them again. That sensation that those I belong with are nearby.

  I see Ksenia, and she spots me also. Hesitantly, I see her make her way over to me. Part of me feels bad for the way I am trying to get to know her, maybe selfish. She does not remember me. The only sibling she knows is Katya, and Katya is not someone she can trust. Katya has hurt her, drugged her, used her. But why? I am not sure of that, but I am hoping my little dove can tell me. Maybe I can be someone she can put her trust in.

  “Brat,” she greets me with a nod of her head as she slips into the seat across from me. Each day I see her she looks a little better; cheeks a little redder and plumper, skin a little brighter. Only, the confidence in the way she holds herself, that has not recovered as much.

  She still looks frightened and like the servant to someone waiting on her next order, or perhaps her next beating. It hurts to know what she has been through without me there. One day I will know how my sisters ended up where they did when I was supposed to be sold to save their lives.

  “Hello, malen'kiy golub'.” I smile at her and get a hint of one back. She always responds to that nickname, little dove. I think it reminds us both of a happier time. “How are you?” I ask her. Her English is another thing that is improving bit by bit, being around all the club members, but I think I should probably do more to help with that, with what little I can.

  “Khorosho,” she answers, telling me she is okay. I guess that is as good of an answer as I can get from a woman who has been through what she must have. “Like Jenna and the dogs. They make me better,” she offers. I nod, knowing all too well the power of those two big boys of hers. They easily saved Jenna’s life. It makes perfect sense to me that they can save Ksenia’s, just in a separate way.

  “Spart and Max,” I tell her slowly, and she nods, repeating their names as if she is learning how to speak for the first time. I have heard learning a new language is easier the younger you are. I had it easy in comparison. “Can we continue our conversation from before?” I ask her, trying not to sound too pressing. I don’t want to scare her away, but I am burning on the inside to know why Katya had acted this way, teasing me by sending Ksenia to us and becoming Mistress to all these young women.

  Ksenia shrugs, and I can tell she is uncomfortable, but I press anyway. “You say Katya has married Sergei of her own free will?” I ask, being very specific. I still find it hard to believe that any woman, especially my sister, would choose to be with that despicable man without threat or catch.

  Ksenia simply just nods.

  “Why would Katya want to marry him? Why would she hurt you and drug you? I want to understand,” I plead with her, trying to show her how important it is and how she will be safe if she tells me.

  “I not like her. I fight sometimes until Master and Mistress teach me not to fight. They teach what happens when I fight.” At this, my fists clench in rage, trying to control what I feel inside. I want to crush Kolosov, but also Katya and my mother for allowing this to be Ksenia’s life thus far.

  “And what about Katya marrying…”

  She cuts me off, putting her hand up and shaking her head. “Don’t want to talk about Katya,” she tells me more firmly than I have heard her say anything since she has been here. A couple of those in the bar even turn their head to look at us. I look at her, meeting her eyes, but she looks away unchanged in her stance. She is not going to tell me right now. I reach out for her hands, wanting to place mine on hers, to touch her, but she looks even more uncomfortable then, so I pull away.

  “I am sorry. We will take this slower,” I tell her with a reassuring smile before I see Elena walking into the room. I leave Ksenia to her own thoughts and go over to the other woman in the place that felt like a sister.

  “How are you handling all of this?” she asks as I walk up to her with a sigh. I can tell by her features she is st
ressed by something too, but she must be wanting to get her mind off it, talk about my issues instead.

  “You mean the fact that my little sister is in the club, that she has been in the hands of a monster? Well, considering, but I want to understand, and I do not think she is ready to help me do that.”

  We both look in the direction of the girls, and I can see the sorrow on Elena’s face. She feels others pain as if it is her own. It is both a downfall and an amazing thing about her. It is why I always knew she would do something good with her freedom if I got it for her. And I had.

  “This group of girls is having such a tough time adjusting. This fiend, Kolosov, has done a number on them, and I can’t imagine what awful things will happen to the other girls he has if we don’t hurry and buy more. I get that we are in a bind and have little room, but there must be something we can do,” she says, looking defeated.

  An idea had come to me in passing, but I have been so busy with Jenna and my sister that I have not spoken to Reed about it yet. I need to find out more about what Sergei and Katya are up to anyway, so why not find a way to take in more women?

  “I think I have a way we might be able to take in a few more. The fix is temporary, but that is better than not helping at all,” I offer her, and her face lights up.

  “Oh, would you talk with Reed about it? Maybe he will listen to you.”

  I nod, knowing that he is probably in his office. So, I make the trip back to the club, knowing that with the full bar, Jenna will be fine for now. I will be there as soon as she is meant to get off her shift, though. She will probably act like she hates me for it when I do, but she will still be in my bed tonight. I can almost guarantee it, and the thought brings a smirk to my face.

  I knock on the door to Reed’s office, and it opens almost immediately. Reed is in there alone, and I see the same stress on his face that I did on Elena’s. I hope they are not on the rocks because I think they are so good for each other and for the club.

  “I can come back if this is an inconvenient time,” I tell him, but he ushers me in anyway, motioning for me to have a seat.

  “No, it’s fine, I could use a distraction.” There seems to be a lot of that going around lately. “You know how it is sometimes with the Ol’Lady, I mean, now that you have something going with Jenna,” he mentions with a wink, and I try not to react. But my insides jump at the mention of her.

  I don't consider her my Ol’Lady. She has no tat for cut yet, but maybe that is where we can be headed one day, after everything that is going on with her gets figured out. “Oh, c’mon, everyone has seen you two together. Both of you like to be so mysterious about it, but it is obvious you have feelings for each other. You treat her good. That one is more special than she knows.” Reed and I agree on that one. I know she still thinks she is just some club whore but just because she dresses that way does not mean that’s where her heart is. All of us see her as family.

  “Now, what can I help you with?” Reed asks, leaning back in his chair.

  “I was thinking of a way we could take on more girls. I know that we do not have room here and that we have a lot to worry about with Kyle and all, but it is also important we keep our appearances up for Kolosov. Otherwise, things could turn sour with him.” I pause, waiting to see if Reed is interested. He is nodding along.

  “Go on, what’s the magical solution?”

  “It would likely be temporary, but doesn’t Fist have tons of properties everywhere just sitting vacant? He is our ally, so maybe we could make use of that relationship, get Fist to put some girls there and have some of the old Vipers guard them until the cabins are done or we can rehabilitate some of them back out there,” I say, hoping he respects what I have to say. I know I have popped off to him before, and lately, but I really need this connection to continue, for the sake of unraveling my secrets and my sister’s secrets.

  “Fist is dealing with some trouble of his own, but it is not a terrible idea. If the Reapers can get the Bears off their backs, then I will see what we can do. Thanks for the suggestion, Dmitri.”

  Chapter 17

  When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside. - Rumi

  Jenna

  A week has passed since Dmitri’s been glued to my fucking hip. Reed let me have off at the bar for the week, which was damn frustrating. I had to stay at the clubhouse, and Dmitri was free to do whatever the hell he wanted since I was on lockdown. I had to call Wyatt and Sherry in my room, in complete privacy – which wasn’t out of the norm. It just wasn’t normal for me to not see them both for this long. I fuckin’ missed the kid, and I missed Sherry too. He was the one thing that I did right in this entire world, and not seeing him is killing me. I miss him so much.

  In the last week my wounds have healed well. Dmitri came into my room this morning and removed the stitches, and he rewrapped my legs with gauze and said I needed to keep putting the ointment on and covering them up. He made sure to tell me that I needed to take it easy – but let’s be honest, there is no taking it easy, and even if there was, I wouldn’t know jack shit about doing it.

  Michelle had texted me earlier and told me she wasn’t feeling too good and needed me to cover her shift at the bar. I was beyond excited to get out of the clubhouse, so I jumped at the opportunity. It’s my home, but I hated being cooped up there like a caged animal. The bar was packed, and the Nomads were in town, which was great for me. It meant a shit ton of more tip money. Dais’ taught me this little trick to water down their drunks when they got a little too tipsy. It worked well for the both of us, giving us terrific tips.

  I’ve been here for four hours now. It’s a little past eleven, and my feet are killing me from the heels, but I’m back to normal. My cuts are still a problem, though, so I dressed more conservative than usual with black destruction leggings, a gray V-neck tee, and a matching leather jacket.

  Dmitri sits at the end of the bar, his eyes glued to his phone. I grab a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, walking down to where he is. I pour us both a double, and he glances up from his phone, looking at me and the vodka. “I’ve never really asked you but I’m thinking you’re a vodka man.” I knock my shot back, the clear liquid making me feel warm and tingly.

  “You’re thinking right.” Dmitri winks at me, knocking the vodka back. He coughed for a second. “This isn’t the American pussy shit. What do you have, kotenok?”

  I yank the bottle of Poliakov from behind the bar, and Dmitri laughs. “Definitely not Smirnoff.”

  “Definitely not,” I agree, pouring us both another serving.

  I knock mine back again, and Dmitri does the same. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this shit? I’ve been suffering for almost a year.”

  “So, I kind of order it for myself and don’t give it to anyone else,” I admit to him.

  “Didn’t your momma teach you to share?” He didn’t know he hit a nerve with me, but he did. My mother surely wasn’t perfect; she had her demons as do I. She was a good mom, though, when she was around. My relationship with her was always complicated. I suppose that’s always true when your mother is an alcoholic. Right when she’d finally told me and my Dad she was sobering up and turning a new leaf, she was taken away from us too soon. My Dad found her murdered in our home. For years we didn’t know why, and Will made sure to tell me that he was the one who did that to my mother. Who carved her up bit by bit until she slowly bled out over the tiles in our kitchen. He ended my mother’s life years before he physically hurt me and my father. I never got the answers that I wanted about that and maybe I never will. I will surely try, though.

  “My father taught me to appreciate valuable things, oh, and do I ever.” I smirk at him, trying to hide the hurt in my heart at remembering what I could of my mother. I loved her, even with all her flaws she was still my mother, and I swear on her and my father’s graves that I will avenge them. Without any regrets.

  Without warning, the front door bursts open, and Elena comes running through with a box in her hand. Re
ed spots her, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. I catch Dmitri giving me the same look. It’s the determined expression of a man who wants his woman. I smile softly, knowing how I have this brooding Texas raised Russian who claims me like I’m his and doesn’t even ask. He’s quiet, mysterious, and dark. He’s all mine, and boy that makes me so happy.

  “Jen!!!” Elena yells. I turn my face to her, then realize what it is. She whips around the bar, handing me a knife to cut the box open. At that second Ashley by Escape the Fate comes blasting over the speakers.

  “Ashley baby, you make me feel so alive, bababa,” I sing along, ripping the packaging from the box.

  “There a million dollars in there or something?” Enzo asks, sitting a couple stools away from Dmitri.

  “No!” Elena laughs. “It’s Jen’s photos!!!”

  Enzo looked like he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, so she elaborates “It’s a couple Inked Bitches mags, and the photographer gave her copies of the stuff they didn’t use in the magazine!!” Elena is clapping her hands together overexcitedly as I pull a magazine out of the box.

  I am on the fucking cover.

  I’m not a model by any means, but when you have a friend of a friend who knows the photographer for the magazine, and he personally asks you to model, you don’t really decline.

  I cover my hand over my mouth to stifle the smile at my lips. Shit, it looks so good. Elena comes right up next to me, peering over my shoulder at the front of the magazine.

  “YOU’RE ON THE FUCKING COVER!” She screams it, and heads turned around the bar. I had on a lace thong, my hair was pushed to the front of my body, leaving my lion back piece completely exposed. They shot it from a lower angle, making it look extremely intimate, and I had on such a coy smile.

  “You look so fucking hot! Oh my god, and your ass, I’d kill someone for an ass like that” Elena says.