Reckless: A Bad Boyz Anthology Read online

  My dress falls to the floor and step out of the pooling heap, now only in my lacy bra and panties. I can feel the weight of Lucan’s gaze on me and my hands begin to tremble, my arms suddenly feel heavy as lead.

  Steeling myself, I bring them above my head, revealing what should be the smooth skin of my underarms, but is now a deeply deformed bunched of bumps and folded skin due to two surgeries and many years of recurring cysts.

  With my eyes still firmly on the floor, I drop my hands from my head slowly, and turn around. My hands coming to gather my hair over to the left side, I reveal the scar that expands the complete backside of my neck and the new cyst that has recently appeared.

  My heart thunders violently as I hook my fingers on either side of my panties, sliding the thin material over my hips and allowing them to fall, leaving me bare to him.

  I part my legs, wanting to get this part over with, knowing that he can see the parts of me I am most ashamed of. Completely exposed, for the first time in my adult life, I fight the urge to throw my arms around my body to shield myself. No one has ever seen me completely bare. Even with my ex, in our most intimate times together, I always made sure to keep the lights off.

  “So you see. I am broken,” I whisper finally.

  Lucan

  Her words plunge a knife in my heart, the pain more than the sight of her scars and tender lumps scattered over her body. To think that this beautiful woman thinks herself broken because of a condition she has no control of, makes anger boil within me.

  How can she think so little of herself?

  Have the people in her life not assured her that she is far from a broken woman? Even after seeing the angry looking lumps on her body, she still stirs my desires for her.

  Lifting from the couch, I move to stand in front of this stunning devastated woman. My hands come up to caress her cheek, brushing away the tears that had fallen from her eyes. Feeling her body tremble, I draw her into me, hugging her tightly.

  “Thamar, Moy slomannyy. Angel. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” I whisper into her ear. I hold her close, wanting to make her see herself the way I see her.

  Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, she shudders under my lips. Her nipples pucker to harden points against me. Continuing to trail feather like kisses across her shoulder, she whimpers as I move up the side of her neck and then down her collarbone, hearing her breathing change to short shallow pants.

  “Please do not ever feel ashamed of this body,” I whisper against her soft smooth skin. “You are beautiful.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” she says in a half moan.

  Pulling away from her, I look into her sad crystal grey eyes. I cannot say that I understand her condition, or why she feels that she is less than a woman because of it, but what I do know is that she makes me feel more like myself. More like the person I was before the Bratva. Before the brutality of the brotherhood tainted me. With the dual parts of her personality, both feisty and shy, the burning urge to make her smile is all that surges through me now.

  Bending down slightly, I scoop her again in my arms slowly and ignore her quizzical glare. With my heart thundering madly against my chest, I advance to the hallway on my right in search of her bedroom.

  “No, Lucan. Please put me down. I can’t—”

  “Shh. No talking,” I say as I push open her bedroom door and step inside. Stopping at the foot of the bed, I gently place her down on the edge before taking a step back to look at her.

  God, she is beautiful.

  SEVEN

  Thamar

  LUCAN STANDS IN front of me, in between my legs with his eyes roaming over my body. I want nothing more than to cover myself up, but there is something in his eyes that keeps me still, despite the anxiety of being completely exposed before him. Appreciation? Lust? I can’t be sure. All that I know is that no one has ever looked at me this way before.

  “Do you know what it is I see when I look at you?” he asks, his voice smooth yet strained with emotion.

  I shake my head, unable to form words to respond.

  “I see someone that is very beautiful. From the moment you ran into me, you have drawn me to you. You are strong and sweet, feisty and tender. I do not know much about you or what in your life has caused you not to see how amazing you are, but I want to get to know you, Thamar. I want to show you how precious you are.”

  He lends down, touching his lips with mine and the electricity that I have now come to expect from him, run through my body in waves. The kiss is soft at first, tender and sweet, but soon he deepens it. His velvet soft tongue parts my lips and slides against my own.

  He groans into my mouth, his hands skimming down my throat in a very possessive way.

  Possessed…that is how he makes me feel. In his arms, I feel claimed, owned and cherished in a way I have never felt before.

  His hand tangles in my hair, fisting it. I could feel his hunger for me, his need, and though I have the same burning need coursing through me, I force myself to pull away from our embrace.

  This can’t happen.

  “Wait…um…I can’t,” I try to say as I try to catch my breath.

  He nods and stands straighter. “I know.”

  Closing my eyes tightly, I remember how many times Jason’s had gotten upset with me when I’d had to stop before we’d make love. He didn’t understand, though there were times where he claimed he did.

  “Open your eyes, Thamar,” Lucan says, and I take a long, deep breath before doing as he says.

  He bends over me, and puts his right arm around me to scoot me back further into the bed, stopping when I am at the center. He drags the folded blanket from the foot of the bed up and drapes it over me.

  He turns away from me and walks out of the room and for a moment I feel my heart sink. When I hear him turn the faucet on in my bathroom, I am relieved.

  Coming back into the bedroom, he has four washcloths in his hands, each steaming, from the hot water.

  “Lift your arms,” he orders and I once again do what he says. There is an authoritativeness about him that makes me act automatically, obeying him without question.

  With my arms lifted, I watch as this sexy, beautiful man, places the heap of cloths down on the table beside the bed. He lifts one of them into his hands and brings it to my underarm. The warmth of the towel soothing on my cyst.

  I bring my arm down over it, securing the washcloth in place. We do this for each of my cyst, even the one in between my legs before he orders me to stay still and let the heat of the towels do their work.

  By the time he tucks me in securely, my eyes are moist with tears, my throat burning with emotion. No one has ever taken the time to take care of me like this before and I don’t know what to say to him other than, “Thank you.”

  He smiles at me, gives me a chaste kiss on my forehead, “Good night, Moy slomannyy. Angel.”

  Lucan

  I have one thought as I leave Thamar’s bedroom and sit on the couch. I need to get out of the Bratva, and soon. Whatever indecisiveness I felt towards the brotherhood before tonight, is gone.

  Watching Thamar as she shared something so personal and painful for her tonight shifts something inside of me and I realize that she has stolen my heart. It no longer belongs to me. It is hers. I know that it does not make sense that I feel so strongly about a woman I had only just met, but she does something to me. Just the way she looks at me, calls to a part of me that wants to move heaven and earth to make her happy.

  I’m not sure why she does not see how special she is and how perfect she is despite the disease she has, but I want nothing more than to spend my life showing her just how much she amazes me. To do that, I will need to be free of Petrov.

  I pull out my phone; bring up the browser so that I can do a bit of research into her condition. The lumps she showed me looked painful.

  Finding a website dedicated to the subject, I read the causes and the treatment options afforded to the suffers of the conditi
on.

  My cell phone rings and the browser disappear as Petrov’s name flashes on my screen.

  “DA?” I answer, making sure to keep my voice even.

  “Privét.”

  “Privét, Pankan” I respond, as I stand to my feet.

  “I hear that all went well with the shipment last night. Very good, Lucan. With my brother no longer available to handle that side of the business, I am in need of a man trustworthy to take over with the dealings between my men in Moscow,” he says and my brow furrows at his words.

  “Vladimir seems to believe you are the man for the job. So I am sending you tomorrow to begin the work of procuring the men who will handle the girls there. Will that be a problem?”

  Moscow?

  It does not make sense. Alexander handled the majority of his dealing from the states, only traveling to the homeland once or twice a year.

  “No, Petrov. Not a problem at all.”

  “I'll send Vladimir to collect you. You will spend the night in my home and we will discuss what it is that is expected of you once you reach Moscow. He should be there within ten minutes.”

  When he hangs up, again without regard to what I might want to say, I know that I am not meant to live through the night. Of this, I am certain. However, this is not what causes me to bolt from the living room and rush into Thamar's bedroom. No, what has me shaking her awake with urgency is the fact that Petrov is a man of predictability and the fact that he did not ask where I was tells me that he already knows.

  “Thamar, wake up. Now!” My voice is stern, letting her know that there is no room for questions.

  She looks up at me, her eyes squinting and her brows furrowed, but she does not argue. Instead, she slides out of the bed and sits up.

  “We need to leave. Get dressed,” I order, before turning away from her.

  I hope that I am wrong. That since receiving the note from Roberto, I have been made to feel paranoid, but the knots churning in the pit of my stomach tells me that I am right.

  Thamar steps out in sweatpants and T-shirt and opens her mouth to speak, but I do not let her, as we have not much time. Grabbing her hand, I make quick work of leaving her apartment and getting into the car.

  Pulling out of my parking space with a screeching speed, I take a glance around to ensure that we are not being followed.

  “Lucan, what is going on?” Thamar finally asks once we are on the road and I am surprised that she waited this long to ask.

  I do not respond, not knowing what I can safely tell her and what I cannot. Just her being with me puts her in danger and I mentally chastise myself for not staying away from her. That was the original plan.

  When it is clear that I do not plan to answer her, Thamar turns to face me, her eyes imploring me, but I keep my eyes trained on the road ahead.

  I spot a grey vehicle in my rear-view mirror a few cars down. I remember seeing it parked when I arrived at Thamar’s home, but did not think anything of it at the time.

  I do not recognize the car, but after my conversation with Petrov, I am almost certain that Vladimir is the driver. Nonetheless, I need to lose him without alerting Thamar to the dark sedan following us. The last thing I want is to scare her, but if I’m right then whether we planned on actually having a second date or not, this may be the last she’s seen of me.

  Fuck!

  Thamar

  Something’s wrong.

  Tension rolled off Lucan, thick and heavy as he swivels in and out of traffic. His eyes dart to the rear-view mirror continuously and his grip on the steering wheel was tightens, his knuckles white.

  “What’s going on, Lucas?” I ask, when he heads for the Brooklyn Bridge, away from my house.

  He doesn’t respond as he checks the rearview mirror again, looking for something behind us.

  “Seriously Lucas? What the fuck? You’re freaking me out.”

  Lucas jaw clenches, and his eyes never leave the road as he finally answers me. “We’re being followed.”

  He doesn’t explain and I can only stare at him in disbelief, trying to register what he’s said.

  “What the heck are you talking about?” I demand, my eyes moving to the side mirror. There is a row of cars behind us and another row of vehicles flanking us on the right side, but nothing that would indicate that we were being directly followed.

  What the fuck?

  “Look, Thamar. I cannot explain everything right now. Just let me get us out of this shit.” He jerks the car to the right, cutting off an unsuspecting white Nissan Altima, who blows the horn and precedes to yell out curse words.

  That’s New Yorkers for ya.

  He accelerates as he rights the car, putting distance between us and those behind. I chance a glance at the speedometer. Gulping, I nearly lose my shit when I see that he’s doing close to eighty on a fifty-five.

  He continues on, barreling pass the other cars, triggering their road rage.

  I grip the handle bar on the door, my breathing increasing, my heart pounding violently against my chest. “Are you fucking crazy? That shit isn’t funny, Lucas. Take me home right now!”

  Just as the words leave my mouth, I notice a blur in the side mirror out. Shifting to get a better look, I spot a car speed up to catch us and I yelp as it looks like it’s going to run straight into us.

  No, fucking way.

  Lucas spots the car and change lanes again just before it’s close enough to hit us and instead it slams into the red Impala that was I front of us.

  “Fuck!” Lucas curses and I can’t find a voice to fucking respond. My heart is beating in my chest at a rapid speed.

  Lucas gets off at the next exit and quickly he turns down the first corner, Waters Street. He makes sure to change streets every few blocks as he checks for the grey car. The lights of the city are bright as I turn to catch my breath, a million questions are running through my head. We don’t see the grey car again as we turn on the Manhattan Bridge. Lucan visually relaxes, but I am far from relaxed at the moment.

  “What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”

  EIGHT

  Lucan

  THE ANGER THAMAR displays as I drive us back toward Brooklyn is just. This is exactly the reason why I have avoided dating all this time. I am not sure what I should tell her. I cannot tell her about the Bratva or about my assignment with the FBI.

  “Shit.”

  Thamar fixes me a stare fit to kill and I know I have to tell her something…anything at this point that will keep her from being upset with me.

  My phone rings. With one hand on the wheel, I push my free hand into my front pocket and pull out the phone.

  Vladimir.

  “Don’t you even think—” I don’t let her finish as I drop the phone in my lap and place my hand over her mouth, giving her a look that indicates that she is not to speak.

  When she sighs in agreement, I answer the call, putting it on speaker. I had not planned on Thamar finding out about me this way, but it looks like I do not have a choice.

  “Brother,” I answer with a snarl, the venom in my voice evident. It had not taken me long to confirm who was behind the wheel of the tinted grey car. The style of driving was uniquely Vlad’s. I have seen him pull those moves, plenty of times. Particularly the one where he nearly rammed into us. Had I allowed him to hit us, he would ensure that the two cars stayed connected to each other, with my car dragging his behind me. It is a stupid move in my opinion, but I have watched him do it without fail. Once the cars locked together, he would kick out the windshield out after shooting a few rounds into it. He would then position himself to open fire on the poor bastard he was after.

  Only this time, I am the poor bastard.

  Tonight is the only time where he had not been successful. If I know Vladimir as well as I think I do, it would not be long before he would find me.

  “Ah, Lucan. I must say that I’d never pictured you on the other side of the Bratva,” he chuckles and it grates my nerves.

  “What the hell
do you want Vladimir? What is this about?” Protocol is to remain under cover for as long as possible. I will not admit to anything until absolutely necessary.

  Thamar’s eyes are wide as we get off the bridge and reach a red light at Tillary Street. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, once we reached a safe location. I cannot just very well expect her to forget all that has happened tonight.

  “You know very well what this is about. Come in, Lucan. You wouldn’t want us to find that pretty little thing of yours, yeah? Better yet, ask her if she’s missing something,” Vlad snickers. My brows furrow together, confused.

  Thamar gasps, but does not say a word. The light changes and I pull up in front of the Marriott Hotel, and turn the car off, wanting to get this fucker to talk.

  “Enough with the theatrics, eh? Tell me what the fuck you want.”

  He tsks into the phone and there is a short pause before a man’s voice fills the car. “Thamar?” the person squeaks out in pain.

  Her hands fly to her mouth, while I close my eyes tightly recognizing the gasping voice of the man on the other line.

  Fuck!

  Vladimir’s voice returns and it is filled with amusement. “I expect that you’ll turn yourself in then, brother?” he asks.

  Thamar and her friend have nothing to do with this. Her only fault in all this is that she had met a man who was nothing but trouble. I feel like shit and I know that I have to fix this. Somehow, I need to get her friend back without turning myself in.

  “When and where?” I grit out through clenched teeth. I cannot wait to get my hands on him.

  “Tomorrow night. Meet me in Red Hook. I have a feeling we’ll be needing those shipment containers. Oh, and bring the girl. It’ll be fun for her to see what we do to traitors of Bratva” Vladimir chuckles into the phone.

  He hangs up and for the first time in a very long time, I do not know what to do.