Page 15 of Darkest Game (The Dark Mafia #3)

Chapter Eight

Irina

L iam grabs my arm and practically yanks me into the woods.

“What’s happening?” I gasp.

“The car. It’s one of Jack’s men. I recognize him.” He pulls me behind a tree and places his hands on either side of my head. Our bodies are pressed close together. I can’t deny that it feels strangely nice. Comforting.

I shouldn’t like Liam but he has saved my life multiple times now. He may not be exactly kind, yet he does have some kindness in him to be trying to help me the way he is. (Even if I know he’s partially doing this to save himself).

And he’s handsome. That’s one thing I can’t deny. Whenever his eyes meet mine, they make my stomach flutter.

“What do we do?” I whisper.

He places his finger to his lips. We wait.

I can’t see anything that’s happening but I can tell from the tension in Liam’s body that we’re not out of the woods yet. Both literally and figuratively.

I can hear a car door open and close.

Then footsteps crunch on the leaves as the driver enters the woods. Liam presses himself closer to me, almost like he’s trying to shield my body from the attack.

On instinct, I grip his shirt, steadying myself. His eyes flash down to mine in surprise. I can feel my own eyes widen.

A moment passes between us. A moment I don’t understand. Until Liam looks away again, back to the driver, who’s getting closer to our hiding spot. Each crunch of the leaves makes me tremble. To have escaped from getting raped to now this? I’m tired and I just want to go back home.

But that’s not an option at the moment. Liam is all I have and I have to rely on him.

The driver’s footsteps stop right behind our tree.

Liam slowly grabs the gun from his jacket and waits. No one moves for a long moment. The driver must know we’re here.

And then the driver jumps forward, aiming his gun at us. But Liam is faster. He shoots the guard in the shoulder, knocking him back, and making him drop his gun. Liam charges the man and pistol-whips him in the head. The driver slumps to the ground.

Liam grabs the driver’s gun and stashes it into his coat pocket. “He’s not dead but I don’t want to leave a trail of dead bodies behind out in the open where anyone can find it. We can take his car.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“It’s better than walking for hours. It’s going to get dark soon. And you’re in a wedding dress. You’ll get too cold and you have a limp.”

“I hope it doesn’t ruin my ballet career.”

Liam gives me a strange look I don’t understand. His eyes darken but also look intrigued. “You’re a ballerina?”

“Yes. Though I never got the chance to truly perform as an adult. But I’ve been training since I was five. Why are you looking at me like that?” I wrap my arms around myself as if that will somehow protect me from his gaze.

“No reason,” he says gruffly before kicking the driver in the stomach to make sure he’s actually unconscious. The man is. “I just didn’t know. I guess it makes you more innocent somehow. The virgin ballerina.”

My face turns hot. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Come on. Let’s go.” He grabs my arm like I’m incapable of walking myself and takes us to the car. There are no other men around who could hurt us.

Even though the leather seat is comfortable, I can’t relax, even as Liam drives us away from Jack’s man. “Can they track this?”

“This car?”

“Yes. Once that man wakes back up, he’s surely going to call someone. Won’t they be able to find the car?”

“We’ll switch cars in a bit but just because they know the license plate doesn’t mean they’ll be able to track us. Trust me. Mobster men don’t want tracking devices on their cars. We’ll find a new car before they can find us.”

“How? You don’t have any money on you.”

“We’ll get to my nightclub. I have money stashed away there.”

“Liam, why don’t you just return me to my family? Honestly. I will tell Mikhail and Nico how you saved my life. Are you worried I’d tell them otherwise?”

He flicks his eyes at me and then back to the road. “You seem sincere. But I can’t risk it. You could tell them I hurt you and then they’d shoot me in the head. Or you don’t even get the chance to explain it to them before they shoot me in the head.”

“You can drop me off at Mikhail’s house and leave before they show up. You’d have a chance to get away while I tell them the truth. That way they can’t just shoot you in the head.”

“That’s… not a bad idea,” he admits. “But you’re my wife now. It’s my duty to protect you. I can’t just drop you off somewhere. Elaine or Jack’s other men could get their hands on you.”

My breath hitches. “You care about my safety?”

“I guess. Fuck. I never thought I’d feel this way. But you always seem so sad and innocent. I can’t just throw you to the wolves.”

“I never knew a man like you could have a nice side.”

“Your own father was a mobster. Wasn’t he nice to you?”

“He was. But he also had rules. Lots of them. Like no going outside without a guard. No dating. Don’t even speak to any boys or there would be consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“Like he would kill the boy. He never said it outright but we all knew that’s what he meant. He was serious about us not dating anyone. He wanted us to marry good mafia men and be respectable.”

“Be virgins, you mean.”

I flush and grip my hands together in my lap. That only makes Liam flick his eyes straight down to my legs. I can’t help but shift around from his gaze. It’s doing strange things to me.

“Yes,” I say. “But also polite. And demure. He wanted me to be a ballerina in part because Natalya is one. But also because he believed ballet taught discipline and order and grace.”

“Does it?”

“Yes. But it’s also long hours and hard work and tired feet. He would make me stuff my pointe shoes to the max with padding so I would never get ugly feet.”

“Ugly feet? I don’t get it.”

I gaze at Liam for a moment. “Ballerinas are notorious for their ugly feet.”

“Really? But ballerinas are graceful. They have beautiful feet.”

“When they’re in pointe shoes. Our feet are meant to look beautiful. But standing on pointe can wreck the toes. Can make them bleed or grow blisters. Padding helps prevent some of that from happening.”

“Jesus. I never knew. Makes me look at ballerinas a bit differently.” He nods at my feet. “So you’re telling me you have big ugly blisters on your feet?”

His question actually makes me laugh for the first time today. “No. I don’t. Though I have broken the occasional toenail and that’s not a pretty sight. Blood gets everywhere and you have to take a small break from dancing to let the toenail regrow. But that usually only takes a few days.”

“So being a ballerina is blood sport then. I never knew. I just thought ballerinas pranced around in pretty outfits.”

“Oh no. Being a ballerina is hard work. You have to train for hours at a time, day after day. I used to have a lot more strength in my body until my uncle took over and locked me in my house. I still practiced on my own but it doesn’t compare to dancing in a studio with an instructor.”

“Is that what you hope to do? Once this is all over. Get back to dancing?”

“It would be nice but I’m not sure I have any more dreams to perform on stage. I’ve gotten too behind in my work. And… I was always too shy to perform. It’s just not for me.” I can hear the sadness in my own voice and I hate it.

“It’s a weird thought that you’re my wife and I’m learning all these things about you. Usually people find out these things before they get married.”

A notion hits me. “I don’t even know if you had a girlfriend. I know Jack forced you into marrying me. And I know you said that…” I swallow hard. “That you want to continue to see other women.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Nothing official. Just… a fling with this one woman. Some one night stands with a few others.”

“So you’re not going to break a woman’s heart?”

He scoffs. “If any of those women I fucked fell in love with me then that’s on them. I never made any promises of love.”

“That makes me feel a tiny bit better. I would hate to be partially responsible for a woman losing her boyfriend.”

“You’re not responsible for that. You were kidnapped and forced into this. None of this is your fault.”

“Then why did you kidnap me in the first place? I wasn’t the one you were supposed to take.”

His hands clench around the steering wheel. “Because my guy, Mark, is a fucking moron. And selfishly I didn’t want to return to Jack emptyhanded. I was still looking out for myself.”

“Now you’re not?”

“I never would have killed Jack if I was only looking out for myself.”

I stare down at my lap. This conversation is too intimate to look at him. “I thought you killed Jack because he was making a fool out of you.”

“Trust me. I wanted him dead for that but I never would have acted on it. I only killed him because… because I didn’t want him hurting you.”

“I thought you hated me. Why did you kill your boss for a woman you hate?”

“I don’t hate you personally, Irina. Moreso the Russians and your brother-in-law. And your father and your uncle. But… not you. You’re just an innocent. And I can’t hate an innocent.”

I frown and lift my head to gaze at him. “Do you see me as a child?”

“No. Why do you ask that?”

“Because you keep calling me innocent. I wasn’t sure if you see me like a little girl.”

His eyes quickly rake over me before returning to the road. “Trust me, Irina. I don’t see you as a little girl. You’re a woman.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel like it. With how sheltered I was kept growing up. And then again with my uncle.”

“Well, this is your chance to live a little. Once all of this calms down and I can figure out a way to return you to your family without putting either of us at risk.”

“So you really are going to return me to my family?”

He shrugs. “I mean, neither of us asked for this marriage. It only makes sense.” There’s a tightness to his voice.