Twisted Cravings by Cora Reilly
Ipractically bounced on the bar stool as I waited for Dinara to talk to Remo. It didn’t sit well with me that she had to deal with him alone.
“Remo wants to help her. There’s no reason for you to be tense,” Nino drawled. He sat on the bar stool beside me, regarding me with his usual analytical calm expression.
“Would you have been relaxed to have Kiara in a room with Remo in the beginning?”
“Kiara needed to feel protected and she only trusted me. Dinara seems like a woman who can handle herself. She won’t let Remo intimidate her. You don’t have to worry.” He narrowed his eyes in consideration. “But your comparison proves that your relation to Dinara goes beyond the physical aspect. You care for her on an emotional level.”
I tore my eyes away from his. “It’s complicated.”
“Indeed.”
Steps sounded and the door to the back corridor swung open. Dinara was awfully pale when she stepped into the bar. That was a look many people displayed after some alone time with Remo.
I jumped off the stool and hurried over to her. I touched her shoulder, drawing her gaze to mine. “Are you all right?”
Dinara nodded distractedly. “Yeah.” She laughed hoarsely. “Or maybe not.”
“What did Remo say?”
Dinara held up a piece of paper with a handwritten note. “He gave me the address of the bar where my mother works.”
“Dinara,” I said slowly. Remo had always wanted to kill our mother for what she’d done to him and my brothers. Revenge had been his driving force. For him it was impossible to comprehend that not everyone followed the same logic as him.
“Take me there,” Dinara said, not allowing me to voice my worries. I could feel Nino’s gaze on us, probably analyzing our body language to assess our level of emotional connection.
I sighed and resisted the urge to walk into Remo’s office to confront him. It would have been hypocritical anyway because avenging Dinara had been on my mind since I’d found out about her past. But I wanted to protect her from it. Nino gave us a curt nod as we walked past him and to my car. Dinara was tense beside me as I headed toward the address. I’d been to the bar only once before. It was one of our shabbier whorehouses, not a place I enjoyed spending time in.
“What will you do when you see your mother?” I asked. I remembered seeing my mother for the first time in years when I was a teen. She was in an asylum, a seemingly broken woman who wanted peace. Back then I’d wanted to move beyond my brothers’ constant need for blood and death. I wanted to be better. Instead my desperate attempt to change fate had only thrust me deeper into my predetermined path.
Dinara turned to me, her teal eyes wide. “I don’t know.”
“I assume Remo gave you permission to kill her.”
“He did. He gave me permission to do to her whatever I want. He called it my privilege.”
That sounded like my brother. “You don’t have to do it. You have options.”
“What options?” Dinara whispered harshly. “It’s not that I haven’t considered killing her. Every night since I found out that she’s alive, I’ve been dreaming about how I’d see her die. Your brother didn’t put the idea in my head. It’s been there all along.” She tipped against her temple.
I took her hand, linking our fingers.
“Did you imagine killing your mother before the day you stabbed her?” she asked.
“For a long time, I believed killing my mother wouldn’t change anything. Part of me even hoped we could make peace with her, and become at least a dysfunctional family. I wasn’t born when she hurt my brothers. I’d always only heard the stories, and even those were sparse. Remo tried to keep the horrors of the day that my mother tried to kill them away from me. But I needed to realize the horrible impact she had on our family for myself.” Nino had once recounted how our mother had cut his wrists, drugged baby Savio and tried to cut Remo as well before she set the room on fire. Remo saved Nino and Savio from a cruel fate. Our mother had still been pregnant with me then, and if she’d succeeded with her devious plan, I would have never even been born. I realized I’d been silent for too long, lost in my thoughts, and so I continued with my story:
“When I saw her that day, trying to kill everyone I cared about and smiling while she did it, I realized what she was. That she was the root of my brothers’ problems, of all of our struggles. Our father hadn’t been better than her, but he at least was dead and couldn’t cast his dark shadow over us anymore. In that moment I wanted to kill her and I never regretted it. I’m glad my brothers did it though. It was their privilege.”
“Did it help your brothers to see her dead? To kill her themselves?”
I considered that. I had never really talked about it with my brothers. The topic of our mother’s death had been buried with her corpse. She was gone. Maybe my brothers talked about it with their wives but definitely not with me, and I’d never dared to talk about it. Putting the past to rest had been a huge step in finding happiness for me.
“I’m not sure it helped them. It didn’t change them. By then we all were already too messed up to find our way back onto a different path, but maybe it gave them peace of mind for a while.”
Dinara swallowed. “Peace of mind was what I wanted when I sought you and the truth. I wanted to uncover the ghosts of my past that kept haunting me, wanted to confront them and put them to rest, but I didn’t know so many of them were still around.”
“You mean your mother and your abusers?”
She nodded. I pulled the car into the half-empty parking lot of the whorehouse and killed the engine but made no move to get out because neither did Dinara. She slanted a cautious look toward the front door of the establishment. It was a simple steel door in a brick building without any windows at the front.
I squeezed her hand. “I’m here.”
Dinara gave a more resolute nod and shoved open the door. I released her and got out of the car, following her toward the entrance of the whorehouse. She froze in front of it and turned to me, her eyes frantic. She reached for my gun holster but I stopped her with a gentle touch. “You can’t shoot her in the middle of a bar. If you want to kill her, you need to do it somewhere private.”
Dinara pulled her hand away, looking lost for a moment. “Will you give me your gun when I need it? I don’t have any weapons on me.”
“Can you shoot?”
“Dima taught me.”
“You can have my gun if you need it.” I still thought Dinara looked too out of it to make this kind of monumental decision so shortly after having the option handed to her on a silver platter.
“It’s my decision,” she clipped, her eyes becoming more focused. “My past, my decision. Don’t try to stop me.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
She took a deep breath before she stepped into the building, followed closely by me.
The air was thick with smoke, spilled beer and sweat as we headed into the dimly lit bar of the whorehouse. A couple of men sat at the bar, chatting with prostitutes, and half a dozen booths were occupied as well. In some of them the whores and their customers had already moved past chatting. In our better establishment any kind of touching was limited to the backrooms but here things were handled a bit more openly. One of the whores was rubbing a fat guy through his pants while he was pawing at her breasts and slobbering all over her neck.
Dinara didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes scanned the room, and I did the same, but didn’t spot anyone who could be Eden. “Let’s go to the bar counter,” I said.
The men at the bar checked out Dinara hungrily but the look I sent them made them avert their gazes hurriedly. The barkeeper, a lanky blond guy in his twenties, came over to us,. “Mr. Falcone,” he said with a reverent nod. “What can I do for you?”
“Two vodka, and you can tell me where Eden is.”
“She’s in a backroom with a customer. Do you want me to get her for you?”
“No,” Dinara said quickly.
The barkeeper gave me a questioning look and I nodded. “We’ll wait for her. Let her finish her business. But get us those drinks. We’ll be over in a booth waiting.”
With a hand on Dinara’s back, I led her toward a booth in the corner. We made ourselves comfortable and a moment later a waitress delivered our drinks. Dinara looked around, her face hard. “This place is disgusting.”
“Are your father’s whorehouses better?”
“Most of them aren’t, no. But he’s got a few more luxurious establishments as well.”
Dinara nipped at her vodka then set it down again. I slid closer to her, seeking her gaze.
“Thank you for being at my side,” she murmured. “You have every reason to mistrust me or to mind your own business but instead you chose to help me, even when I’m being a bitch.”
“You aren’t a bitch. You are stubborn and strong-willed.”
A slow smile spread on her beautiful face but it dropped rapidly.
Her eyes snapped toward the bar and I followed her gaze. A woman and a man had just stepped back into the bar through the backdoor. The man had his arm wrapped around her waist and she was leaning into him, giving him a flirty smile. Her hair was colored a burgundy red and her skin was tanned, but her cheekbones were unmistakable.
Dinara froze. “It’s her.”
She sounded small and terrified, like that girl in the recordings. I ran my thumb over her hand, hoping to give her strength. I narrowed my eyes at her mother who was still all over her customer. Hatred burned in my veins. Hatred and a hunger for revenge on Dinara’s behalf. I wished she’d ask me to handle the woman for her. I wouldn’t hesitate—pretending otherwise would have been a fucking lie. I wouldn’t even have qualms about it.
Eden kissed her customer one last time before he walked off, then her pleasant smile fell and she scowled at his back before she turned to the men at the bar with a seductive smile. She hadn’t noticed us.
“I need to go,” Dinara pressed out. “Now.”
She jerked to her feet, her eyes haunted. I stood, grabbed her hand and led her outside as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure if Eden saw us, and even if she did, would she even recognize Dinara?
Dinara was hyperventilating when I pushed her down into the passenger seat and squatted before her. I touched her thighs. “Hey. Look at me. I’m here. I can protect you.”
“I know,” she said between gasps and slowly her breathing calmed and her eyes really focused on my face. “But I need to protect myself. Instead I lose it as if I were still the little girl from back then. I should be strong but I’m not.” The despair in her voice and eyes cut me deeply.
“You are,” I said firmly. “But you have to give yourself time. You went from thinking your mother was dead to seeing her in flesh and blood. You need time to work things out.”
“Take me back to camp,” Dinara whispered. “I need to get out of Vegas. I need—” She shook her head. “Just take me away.”
I leaned in and kissed her before I closed the door and got in behind the steering wheel. For the first time since I’d known Dinara she looked like the frightened child she didn’t want to be perceived as. I could see her struggle to be strong, but the girl from the videos, a shadow from the past, lingered in her eyes.
Dinara was awfully quiet on our drive back to camp. I couldn’t forget the haunted look in her eyes when she’d seen her mother. By now, her expression was controlled and her eyes closed off. This was almost worse than before because I didn’t know what was really going on inside of her.
After I parked the car at the edge of camp, neither of us moved. “You’re not thinking about running back to Chicago for good, are you?”
I realized how much the idea of losing her upset me. I couldn’t let her go.
Dinara didn’t look at me, her gaze directed ahead. “No, I’m not. I won’t find what I need there.”
Dima stalked in our direction, as if he was on his way to execute me. My hunger for blood still called loudly to me, so part of me wanted him to try.
“Great,” I growled.
“Let me handle him. Stay back please.”
Dinara got out and I followed quickly despite her words. Even if I let her deal with him, I’d have her back.
Dima said something in Russian but Dinara ignored him. She walked past him without a word and headed toward her car. That was her way of handling him? I was about to follow her, not wanting her to be alone in the state she was in but Dima barred my way. “Where the fuck did you take her?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He grabbed my shoulder and I shoved him away, narrowing my eyes. He was starting to seriously piss me off with his disrespect. If it weren’t for Dinara, I might have given him a taste of my knife. Maybe that would have stilled the call for blood in my veins.
I had to get a fucking grip.
“You took her to Vegas, didn’t you? I told my Pakhan. He’s pissed at your brother.”
“I’m sure my brother will be heartbroken to hear it,” I said sarcastically.
Dima glowered and leaned closer. “The last time she looked this freaked out, she had a relapse and almost died. If something happens to her, I’ll kill you.”
I got into his face. “She’s mine, and I’ll make sure she’s safe, so fuck off.”
“You really think she can ever be yours?” Dima gave me a hard look before he headed after Dinara. I hated that he knew more about Dinara’s past than I did. I needed to find out more about her drug history. From my own experience, I knew the call for drugs was still loud in certain moments, and Dinara was pretty shaken right now.
I followed Dima with my eyes and stifled a sigh of relief when Dinara didn’t open the car where she had retreated into. Dima stormed off toward his own car, probably to contact Grigory again. Maybe I should ask Remo to send more guards for the races in case the Bratva decided to attack. Before I could decide to approach Dinara, her car drove off.
“Fuck,” I muttered. It cost me a lot of restraint not to follow her. She would be pissed if I acted like a stalker. I had to trust that she just needed some time to herself. There weren’t any places in our immediate surroundings where she could buy drugs, so she’d have to settle for cheap liquor if she wanted to blank out what happened.
She returned an hour later, and not a moment too soon, because I’d been close to going on a search. I went over to her right away. She leaned against her car but she avoided my eyes and focused on her lighter as she lit the tip of her cigarette. I didn’t smell alcohol or marihuana on her.
“I need to be alone right now, Adamo. I know you want to talk but the voices in my head are enough to deal with right now. Just give me time.” For a moment, her eyes met mine, asking me to respect her wish.
I nodded reluctantly. “Okay, you know where to find me. Don’t do anything stupid without me.”
The flicker of a smile crossed her face. “Don’t worry.”
After a quick kiss, I turned and left her alone, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do. Our next race was scheduled in three days so it wasn’t as if I didn’t have enough to do. My car needed another check-up and Crank and I needed to go over the statistics of the races.
That night was the first time that Dinara and I didn’t see each other since we’d started having sex. It was strange lying in my tent, knowing she was only across camp from me and wondering what she was doing, how she was feeling.
Four days later was a big party because we’d reached the halfway point of our season. After the events of the last couple of days, I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood to dance, getting drunk was another matter. That seemed like an enticing option at this point.
I didn’t see Dinara in the morning and resisted the urge to seek her out despite the growing desire to do so.
Instead I helped Crank and a few other guys to set up a large firepit in the center for tonight, and bought meat for barbecuing for the entire crowd. The Camorra always sponsored the big celebrations to keep the racers entertained. We earned a lot of money with them after all. When Crank and I unloaded my trunk, I spotted Dinara for the first time that day. She sat on her hood with her arms propped up behind her and her eyes closed. Dima stood beside her and was talking to her, but she didn’t give any indication that she was listening to him. She seemed miles away. I could only imagine where her mind was taking her.
Eventually Dima stalked off. I jogged after him and reached him before he could get into his car. “How’s she?”
Dima scoffed. “You ask me? I don’t even know what the fuck happened these last few days. You took her away and now she’s messed up. Did you let her see her mother?”
“Dinara has a right to discover every aspect of her past, even if you and Grigory don’t like it.”
Dima leaned in, his eyes flashing in warning. “You should be careful, Falcone. Your brothers aren’t here to protect you and when it comes to Dinara, Grigory won’t care about consequences. He’ll rip your heart out and feed it to the dogs if something happens to her.”
I smiled darkly. “He can try.” I turned, presenting my back to Dima. Did he really think he could scare me? I’d lost count of the number of enemies who wanted to see me and my brothers dead. Grigory would just have to wait at the end of the queue for his fucking turn.
Across camp, Dinara caught my gaze. She must have watched my confrontation with Dima. She didn’t look away and so I approached her, taking it as an invitation. She put on her sunglasses casually, but this was a bigger admittance of her emotional turmoil than she probably realized. Instead of asking what I really wanted to know, how she was coping with everything, I said, “Are you going to join the party tonight? It’s going to be a blast.”
“A blast,” she said with a strange smile. “Sounds like something I don’t want to miss.”
“It starts right before sunset.”
It was strange not being closer to her, not touching her, but Dinara still leaned back on her hood and didn’t make a move to seek my closeness. If she still needed room to process everything, I’d give it to her. “I’ll be there.”
I nodded, resisting the urge to rip away her sunglasses to see the look in her eyes. Instead I backed off and returned to Crank. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked when I helped him fire up one of the barbecues he’d built out of an old steal wine barrel.
“Dinara and I enjoy space apart on occasion. We aren’t attached by the hip.”
“If you say so,” Crank said. That was the problem living in camp.
Shortly before sunset, every member of the camp, including pit girls and other women the racers had found in nearby bars had gathered for the party. Flames from the firepit in the center snaked up into the sky and illuminated the night and filled our bodies with warmth. The scent of barbecued meat and marihuana hung heavily in the air. A spicy concoction that made you feel high without a single taste or drag.
I stood at one of the barbecues, turning ribs to keep me busy as I scanned the crowd. Thanks to the barbecues and firepit, the air was still hot and many party guests danced half-naked. None of the girls wore more than a bikini top and hotpants, and even most guys had discarded their shirts by now. I was one of them but so close to the barbecue, a fine sheen of sweat covered my chest despite my lack of clothes.
I froze when I finally discovered Dinara. I’d been looking for her since the start of the party but either she’d hidden in the crowd so far or she joined the party only now. The sun was starting to disappear behind the horizon. I shoved the barbecue tongs at Crank and left my spot at the barbecue to get a closer look at Dinara. The sight was too beautiful to miss.
She danced barefoot under the sinking sun, her red hair aflame in the dimming glow. She was beautifully imperfect—imperfectly beautiful. She was laughter and lightness and happiness.
Our eyes met and for a second she seemed to still, a slight hitch in her charade, then she threw her head back and laughed. She started spinning around herself until she lost her balance and stumbled toward me. She collided with my chest hard, still giggling. Her eyes glowed with forced happiness. No one saw the darkness lingering just beneath.
“Fake it till you make it,” she breathed then crashed her lips against mine. Kissing, we tumbled to the ground under the cheers of the crowd. I rolled onto my back, taking her with me. She straddled my hips and let out a battle cry.
I smiled.
Fake it till you make it.I could do that for her, if this was what she needed to get past her demons, past her despair. Her breath smelled of alcohol and marihuana, but she wasn’t drunk or high enough to explain her sudden cheer. She wanted to forget, to be happy and she was determined to force it.
The crowd began to dance in a circle around us and Dinara leaned down again for a lingering kiss. She was usually less open with public displays of affection, but I took her up without hesitation and kissed her back, wanting everyone to see that she was mine—now and for however long she let me.
“Dance with me. Help me forget tonight,” she rasped, her eyes almost feverish with despair. “Let’s just be us tonight. Not anyone’s daughter or brother. Let’s be in the moment. No past, no future.”
I clapped her ass in response, causing the crowd to roar with delight. Dinara’s eyes flashed with indignation, then eagerness. I grabbed her hips and sat up. “Just us.” I kissed her harshly before I nodded at one of the female dancers. She grabbed Dinara and pulled her into the dancing circle. I jumped to my feet and joined them. We danced until our feet hurt, until our surroundings became blurry from alcohol and the joints that were passed along.
Dinara never strayed from my side, our bodies molded together as we danced to the beat. Feeling her body pressed up against mine and seeing the fire in her eyes, desire for her flamed up in me and soon my cock dug against her belly. Her eyes lit up with lust. I leaned down, kissing her ear. “I need to fuck you now, Dinara.”
“Then fuck me,” she said. I lifted her off the ground and her legs wrapped around my hips as I carried her away from the party. Hiding wasn’t an option anymore. Everyone knew about us by now, and I wanted them to know. I wanted the whole fucking world to know about Dinara and me, even the Bratva and her murderous father.
The next afternoon, Crank approached me as I was on my way to take a shower. My head was throbbing with a headache. Dinara and I had kept each other awake until the early morning, and even returned to the party in between our alone times. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been this shitfaced. The last thing I wanted was to talk to anyone, especially because Crank’s expression told me I wouldn’t like what he’d have to say. “Trouble?” I asked, waiting on the first step to the washroom trailer for him.
He grimaced. “I heard that Dinara asked around for drugs, Adamo.”
My eyes darted across the camp toward my car and the tent where Dinara and I had spent the night. I didn’t see her anywhere so she was probably still asleep. “What kind of drugs?”
“She wasn’t picky. But cocaine or heroin were her preferred choices.”
I nodded slowly. There wasn’t a rule against drugs during the races. Several racers were loyal customers of the Camorra’s drug dealers, mostly ecstasy and LSD though. And I knew that many people had been high on more than weed last night. I didn’t get involved in this side of our business. It was too risky for me to be around harder drugs, even if I’d been clean for many years. I’d learned not to trust easily, least of all myself.
“I thought you might want to know,” Crank said.
“Did anyone sell her shit?” I growled.
Crank gave me a crooked smile. “Nobody dared to do it before asking you for permission, seeing as she’s your girl.”
I didn’t contradict him, even if Dinara probably hated being branded as mine—or anyone’s for that matter. “Good. I’ll go talk to them to make sure they keep their drugs under wraps.”
After a quick shower, I went to one of the racers who also worked as our drug distributor and told him to make sure no one in Camorra territory dared to sell anything to Dinara. Word would spread soon. She was mine and whoever dared to provide her with stuff would pay with blood.
I headed back to my tent but Dinara had disappeared so I went in search of her and eventually found her at her Toyota.
She leaned under the open hood of her car, tinkering with the engine. Her long legs peeked out of her jean shorts and the soft bumps of her spine invited my tongue to trace them, but I held back my need to be close to her. We had issues to discuss first. Noticing me, she straightened and narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I leaned against the car, trying to stifle my annoyance. She acted as if last night hadn’t happened and was back to her distant self. But the paleness of her skin and the way she squinted into the light revealed the truth of last night’s revelry. “This is my race, and people tell me things. Nobody deals with drugs unless they have the okay from the Camorra.”
“I know. That’s why I asked someone if they could buy me stuff. I anticipated that I’d have a hard time getting anything myself because people seem to think you can decide what I do or don’t do.”
“You didn’t come to me.”
“You wouldn’t have sold me drugs, or would you? Judging from your pissed look, I’ll get a lecture now. I’m really not sure if I have the brain capacity after last night.”
“No, of course I won’t let you buy drugs! I took the shit myself. Heroin, cocaine, even crystal. I know what it does to the body. It ruins you. Your body, your mind, everything.”
I laughed bitterly. “I have danced with the devil before. I know what it does.” Part of me was glad for Adamo’s concern but the bigger part felt caught and defensive. I was so tired, from last night, from trying to forget my twisted feelings. At the party and with Adamo, I’d forgotten about my mother for a few hours, but this morning everything had slammed right back into me. I couldn’t escape reality, at least not for long, not without my old vices.
“How long have you been clean?”
I closed the hood and sighed. “Almost a year now.”
Worry and frustration battled in Adamo’s eyes. “And now you want to throw it out of the window, for what?”
I’d thought the exact same thing the first night after our return from Vegas, alone in my tent after everyone had refused to sell me stuff. For a moment I’d considered driving to the next big city, a place where nobody recognized me, much less knew that I was Adamo’s girl, how everyone around here called me. With the last shreds of my resolve, I’d stayed put and spent most of the night staring at the ceiling of my tent, too afraid to fall asleep and be haunted by new memories, awakened by my recent trip to Vegas. Becoming clean and staying clean had been a struggle. This was the longest I’d succeeded to stay away from drugs since I was fourteen and I’d almost thrown it all away because of my mother. She’d ruined my life once and I’d almost given her the power to do it again. I was furious at myself, but as usual too proud to admit it.
I glared. “You can’t even imagine what kind of images my mind’s been replaying since I saw my mother. So much buried shit has come up. It’s eating away at me, and I know the only way to stop it is to knock myself out with drugs.”
Adamo moved closer. I could tell that he wanted to touch me, maybe even hug me, and I wanted him to, but still I didn’t move. Last night our bodies had joined, fueled by passion and exhilaration, now every touch would be filled with emotions I didn’t want to deal with. “The memories come back twice as bad once the effect wanes off, Dinara. You can’t escape them. I tried too.”
Fuck, it took every ounce of restraint not to fly into his arms. I wanted to be held by him, but I didn’t want to look weak. Though, it was probably a little too late for that. In Vegas, I’d completely lost it. Seeing my mother had twisted my insides, had made me feel like a little girl. She’d changed so much over the years since Dad didn’t pay for her beauty treatments anymore and she worked as a cheap whore, but my mind had pulled up past images.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked quietly, moving a bit closer to him.
“Whatever it is, I’m there for you, but you don’t need drugs, Dinara.”
“You don’t know what I need. You can’t. Not until you’ve lived what I have. The only thing that makes the pain go away for a while are the drugs.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
He was right. I’d fought too hard to get where I was now. Adamo touched my cheek and I leaned into him. “We’ll figure out a way for you to move past this shit. Together.”
I nodded. “Together.”