Shattered (The Clans Book 7) Page 3
"You don’t understand. Just come back home, and we will work this out. I'll go to counseling."
"No," I say firmly so he knows I mean business. "You have ruined any trust I had within me to begin with. On top of that, this marriage has suffocated my independence. I am glad it’s finally over so I can be free." And I damn well mean what I am saying as I stare him down.
He slides back up to a full standing position, his arm now dangling high from the doorframe as he leans towards me into the room. "I don’t know why you always think I am the one at fault. You are not perfect Bethany. You have issues too." His tone is condescending rather than the charm that is usually dripping from it, and I can’t believe I haven’t seen his manipulation all this time.
"I never said I was perfect, and I am done trying to be. Now, please go back to Pittsburgh, Noah. We are done here."
I go to shut the door on him and instead of letting me, he reaches out and stops it from shutting, stronger than I would expect he could be on so much alcohol. My eyes go wide as he enters the room, pressing his hardness through his clothes against my stomach. This is the kind of thing I would have liked before, but it makes me sick. He is now going from begging to being an aggressor.
"No one is ever going to make you feel the way I do. You know that, Bethany. Only I can give your body what it needs. You'll be begging for this." His hands are all over me as he takes me over to the bed, his body firm against me. I have had enough.
I scream and shove him off of me, hoping it will sober him up and make him notice how crazy he is right now. Only, what I see in his eyes is something I have never seen, and now I have reason to be afraid.
He comes at me, his fists wrapping around my arms as he pins me down. He is squeezing bruises into my wrists as he shakes me, screaming incoherent words at me as he spits in my face.
Then, his fist comes down on my face, and I slide down the bed, crumpling to the floor.
Like a hurricane, he leaves, the door wide open, and I don’t care. I sob as blood comes out of my nose which is now probably broken.
I don’t know how much time passes before security shows up at my door to find out what happened. I can barely raise my volume above whisper as I relay it to them, and they look at me with pity. I hate it.
"You should call the police and report this, and you are welcome to stay here still. But if I were you I would see if there was somewhere else you can stay. He could easily just come back."
I nod my head, knowing now that they are probably right. "I have a friend I can stay with. Thank you so much."
As I speak I barely understand myself. He has gotten more than my nose, and I am just now feeling it as I swell. I am a mess, and I am so embarrassed. But there is only one place to go. "Can you get me a cab?" I squeak out to them, and they agree, one of them making a call and the other coming in to help me pack my bag.
Chapter 4
Leon
I sit down in front of the coffee table and place my drink on the coaster. I will be scolded by the woman of the house if I don't make sure my whiskey doesn't mark the designer wood. Not that I can blame her because it is a nice piece. I admire most of the decor in this house now that Anton has settled down and let his woman have her way with the place.
I know the question is coming, because there is no way I can be summoned to New York to talk to the queen and king of the mafia and not garner some attention from one of the other Clan leaders, and best friend, Anton. I knew that it would come up when I decided to stop here before going back to Romania, but I also did not expect to be bombarded with the questions that I had been while I was meeting with Ion and Mariana.
“So, I would love to think that you just came to visit on a whim, but rumor has it that you've just come from New York,” Anton says, swishing his own drink in his mouth as if it's mouthwash and not a strong, aged scotch just the way he likes. Of course, he always could hold his alcohol and then some, so maybe it is nothing more than a mouthwash to him.
“Then, you heard right.” I take a swig of my own drink, needing more liquid courage to deal with the laughter that is probably about to ensue when I tell him what the king and queen of the mafia had assumed about me.
“They rarely summon one of us by ourselves. So, are you going to leave me hanging or you going to tell me what went down?” he presses, leaning over as if we are conspirators. There's really no need considering Natasha is downstairs putting the kids to bed.
“They basically gave me an ultimatum.” I know I am tiptoeing around the subject, but I'm also doing it to give him a little bit of shit. Anton is the kind of guy with a dark sense of humor, and he is always giving it to me, so maybe it's time I feed it back to him. “They basically want to know why I am not married and having babies yet. Something about continuing my Clan line and all that blah blah blah.”
I throw my drink back and pour myself another, which is not exactly like myself. But I also don't like being told what I can and cannot do. I may be a good man for someone who's in the mafia, and a quiet man, but I like my control. I prefer full control over my life and who is in it, which is why I never accepted an arranged marriage like so many others in this business. I always thought the right girl would just come to me one day and that would be that.
“Well, you know so many of us are married off now, they're probably trying to just finish it off here. Really, though, haven't you thought about it at all?” I'm surprised by the seriousness of his question, and I realize, not for the first time how much being a father and a husband has changed him. I know enough about the details to know that he and Natasha were off to a rocky start because of a big mistake that he and some of the other Clan leaders made in going after the wrong person for trying to assassinate Mariana, and that person happened to be a family member to Natasha. But once they came back from that, they were as strong as ever, and they were both glowing the moment they found tout hat they were going to be parents. I never really saw it before, but it fits now.
“Of course, I have. But it's complicated. But apparently that complication has Mariana and Ion worrying about the fact that I might be gay.” I just sit there and let what I said sizzle inside the tension in the room for a moment until it sinks in. For all the years that Anton and I have been friends, we haven't really talked about girls that much, to be honest. For all I know I know, maybe he believes that I could be gay too and just has never said anything as not to offend me.
“Well, I can see where they're coming from. So, I have to ask you, are you gay?” He looks at me with complete seriousness in his dark eyes, and I grin, starting to laugh.
“No, I am 100% straight.”
“Then, why haven't you settled down yet, or at least started dating?”
“I think I have an old-fashioned point of view about all of it; love, women, marriage. I've just been waiting for the right one to come along and sweep me off my feet.” I bat my eyelashes at Anton, and he knocks me hard in the shoulder with his fist. “Seriously, though - I am looking for a very specific woman, and I will know her when I see her. A lot of the women that come around me and want to date me - they're all so fake. They have those lip injections, fake tits, and they want all my money and to look good on my arm. That is not what I'm looking for. I want the real deal, and as rare as it is in our line of business, you clearly see that it's not impossible.” I point down the stairwell in the direction of where his wife has disappeared to get their two children, Nina and Simion, to sleep. I don't know how this asshole got someone to love him like that, but it's clear in the way they look at each other that that's exactly what this is - true love.
Neither of us gets to say anything else as an earth-shattering scream rips through the house and interrupts the calmness that was there just moments before. Both Anton and I jump up and look down the landing to see that Natasha it is holding on to a woman that is falling on the floor. I don't know why we didn't hear the door or anyone coming in, but I can see now why this person is screaming. It is a brunette woman, but I can't make out many other features to tell if I know the person. All I know is that there are some blood stains on her face and obviously blood on her clothes as well. I can even see quite a bit of bruising from up here.
“Jesus, is that Bethany?” Anton calls down to his wife. I can see that she's struggling with her, and I begin to descend the stairs to see how I can help.
“Yes, it is. Can you guys help me get her onto the couch. She needs to calm down so I can find out exactly what happened.”
I get down there and turn around to see that Anton is at my heels. We both cradle her and take her into the formal living room that is downstairs, setting her on the leather couch. She is crying hysterically, which I guess anyone in that physical state would be. Natasha is now rubbing her back and shushing her like a baby, trying to get her to calm down. The tears don't seem to be stopping, until suddenly, they do.
“Anton, can you please go get me a warm, wet washcloth?” Natasha asks in a low, calm, voice, and he goes to do what she asks without hesitation.
“She looks like she can use some tea,” I say heading towards the kitchen so that I can brew some lavender chamomile. I know that it always soothes me when I him in a bad mindset. It is the least I could do considering she's clearly been through an ordeal. I don't know much about her other than the fact that she is Natasha's best friend, though I haven't exactly seen her around. I remember meeting her briefly at their wedding, but that was it. And I don't know if there's was something that happened to lead up to this considering I just arrived on a plane only few hours ago.
I take my time bringing the tea, figuring that she doesn't need a stranger in there right now while she is trying to compose yourself and get her bearings. I am hoping that the time alone with Natasha as Natasha cleans her u
p will give her a chance to tell her story so that we can find out exactly how she got hurt and found herself on their doorstep. Something in my gut tells me that it has to do with a guy, but doesn't it always? But I'm not going to jump to any conclusions here until I know the full story. I'm just going to ride the wave and help my friends as they try to care for her for now.
Finally, it is quiet as I come back into the room to see that she's a little bit more cleaned up. Anton is on the phone when I set the cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her. This time I don't bother looking around for a coaster because I don't think that that is a priority right now for anyone in this house.
“Lavender and chamomile,” I tell her as we make eye contact for a second. I can immediately tell a few things about her, but I'm not going to judge her for any of the right now considering she's probably had about the worst day of her life so far. She clearly has some injections maybe some fake boobs going on, but something genuine shines in her eyes and makes me feel like she's not the typical woman to get or want these things. There is some real pain in there. Her eyes are still watery from crying, but no more tears fall.
“Thank you,” she croaks out, clearing her throat which is thick from the sobbing. Who knows how long she was doing it?
“I'm Leon,” I tell her, reaching out and giving her my hand to shake. I figure treating her as normally as possible might make her feel a little bit more comfortable about this awkward situation.
“Bethany,” she says, grabbing my hand and shaking it.
“I believe you are Natasha's best friend; I am Anton’s friend. Sorry we had to meet like this, but it is nice to meet you.” I try to charm her with a wink, and I get a weak smile back. It's better than nothing.
I hear a miring coming from the children's bedrooms down the hall, and then little feet patter down the hallway and into the living room. There's Nina, in her pajamas and carrying her teddy bear. “Mommy? What wrong?” the little girl asks, rubbing at her eyes. Natasha taps Bethany on the shoulder before she goes to see if the now crying baby needs soothing, and Anton hangs up the phone and takes Nina to settle her back down. I nod to him to let him know that I'll stay here with Bethany and try and keep her company until she feels comfortable going to sleep. It's not like I don't have all the time in the world right now. Well, technically. I am supposed to be back in Romania in two days, but I am the boss, so who cares?
I slide down across from her on the matching loveseat and casually sit back. When she looks over at me, I allow myself to look at her, and I notice that her nose is just a little bit off set. “You should probably see someone about that as soon as possible to get it reset.” The point to my own so she knows what I mean.
She nods her head at me, clasping her hands nervously between her knees. “That's what Anthony was just calling about, to see if he could get a doctor over here sometime tomorrow to take care of it.” Her voice is quiet. I wonder if she's always quiet or if this has something to do with what's happened to her. “I'm sorry for intruding on your visit like this. I just didn't know where else to go.” Now that I am hearing an apology I know for a fact that this has something to do with abuse. Abused women have a bad habit of apologizing for everything, especially those things that are under control that might inconvenience people because that's how the man they’re with makes them feel. Like everything they do is a burden, turning around every bad moment on to them so that the fault will be off of the narcissist. Being a quiet observer like I am gets me a lot of places.
She begins to pick up and sip the tea I gave her, and I wonder if it would get me anywhere to ask her any questions or if it would be too much. But she seems to be better now, so I take one chance. “Do you mind if I ask what happened? And there's nothing to be sorry for. I'm sure whatever happened to you, you certainly didn't plan.”
She finishes the tea I gave her before finally deciding to speak as I wait patiently. I don’t think she needs to be pushed right now, but my blood is boiling right under the surface as I think about the kind of person that would do this.
“It's my ex-husband, or rather, I guess he is technically still my husband. I haven't figured out all the details yet considering I just left him a couple of days ago. He showed up drunk at my hotel room. I guess you found me because our credit cards are linked. Everything is linked.” She gives a dark chuckle before continuing. “He was trying to get me back, and he didn't take no for an answer very well. Hotel security suggested that I make a police report and then find somewhere else to stay so I would be safer.”
She's awfully calm about this confession, and I wonder if this is the first time that he's been violent.
“There is never an excuse to hit a woman, but certainly not when she's already left you. I hope you understand that it wasn't your fault.” I meet her eyes again and there is something there, passing between us, so I look away quickly. This is not necessarily the time for a hookup or anything more than that either. “Of course, I know that. He’s just an ass. I just never expected him to take it this far.” I am a little surprised at her words and am taken aback before I smile at the brashness of her words. I should have known any friend of Natasha’s would be like that. “I am just feeling so many things right now, sorry,” she says with a shrug, but I get the feeling it is a knee jerk reaction and she meant exactly what she said.
“So, I am guessing it is over, then?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes like I should know the answer. “What are you going to do?”
“Ugh, I guess get a divorce, though I don’t see how easy that will be with the way he is acting.” She sighs, her head off in some cloud. “Right now, though, I want to just think about minute by minute, day by day. That’s all I can handle.”
I nod. “Seems fair enough. So, what is it you want to do right this minute?”
“I don’t know. Something crazy. Like dye my hair blue or pink or purple,” she says before laughing. “Is that stupid? I know it’s so cliché.”
I shake my head. “Clichés are generally that way for a reason.”
I can't help but be kind to her. So, I wait until she falls asleep before I leave the room.
Chapter 5
Leon
The next morning, I find myself the first one awake as I make myself some coffee in the kitchen. We all have our vices, and one of my big ones is coffee in the morning. I find that I'm pretty useless without it, but once I have it I'm a pretty cool guy to be around. At least, I think so. Though, I may be biased.
I'm just mixing in my creamer when Anton comes into the room already in an Armani suit for the day. This is so like him. I have almost never seen him in casual clothes. I am more of a polo and jeans kind of guy myself, though I do like to dress up when the occasion calls for it. I just also like to be comfortable. Anton has always been kind of a showy guy.
“Sorry we kind of left you alone to deal with that last night, man, but the kids were really disturbed by the screaming and what went on, and it took the both of us to get them calmed and put back down. And then Nina ended up in my bed anyway. You know I can never say no to that pretty little face of hers.”
Those words surprise me coming out of Anton's mouth, but I know what he means. I'm certain if I ever had a little girl I would probably spoil her too, though I haven't really thought that much about having one other than what the Clans force me to think about. I think it's something that requires the right timing and right headspace to really go for. But I'm certain if I ever do become a dad that, yeah, my kids will be more than spoiled.
“That's all right. It wasn't a big deal. We had some good conversation, and I was glad that I got to be there for her. It sounds like she's been through some really tough shit.”
“Yeah?” Anton asks, getting his own cup of coffee and putting a little bit of whiskey into it. I smile but make no comment, so he doesn’t know I noticed. Coffee and tea may be my main vices with the occasional whiskey, but he likes anything with a bite all the time. I can’t really blame him for it considering the guy can be damn right scary without permanently self-medicating. The only time he lets himself be completely sober is either when he is in the mood to be romantic with the woman he loves or when it’s time for heads to roll. He has no chill, but it’s one of the things I love about him as my best friend. I have a little too much chill sometimes, especially for a mafia leader until it all just builds up and explodes.