Page 16 of Nobody Wants Me (Volkov Bratva #5)

The Beast always thought in terms of problems and solutions.

Always second-guessing a plan. Always saying shit and doing shit that pissed me the fuck off.

I should kill him. It would be easier for the both of us if I just fucking killed him and be done with it.

It would make both of our lives easier, and Ivan wouldn’t need to choose between us.

Only, there was a tiny little problem.

I had many opportunities to kill this fucker. So many. I had been looking down the barrel of my gun more times than I could count, and I could have simply pulled the trigger, and boom , problem solved. I don’t know why I hadn’t. It pissed me off.

But then, there would be no Beast.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I’m trying to do this so none of us gets killed.”

Rolling my eyes, I mocked him. “Getting killed is part of the fun. Also, not to kiss up to the teacher or anything, but I imagine Ivan already knows exactly who is involved in The Grid.” I turned to Ivan. “Don’t you, Boss?” I asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Ivan said. “Or at least, I have two players, and they are in town. That is what I am able to correlate, based on the information you have given me, and backtracking. Some members of The Grid have to be present within the location until the target is acquired. Especially, if it has a high price like Freya. Her father has put quite a sizeable hit on her. We’re talking in the hundreds of millions of dollars. ”

“It’s small change to a man like Harris,” I said.

I don’t get what Harris has against Freya. Now, I don’t like people. I’m used to killing people, and I was taught at a young age that people would disappoint you. There is no way you should open yourself up to that kind of pain.

So, I never got close. I never had friends. In an odd way, Ivan and The Beast are the closest people I would have to friends. And even odder now, I would say Freya is close to me as well.

My life is fucked up, but I love every day of it.

I didn’t make friends easily, besides, I have had to kill a couple along the way. Take The Grid, for example. I’d already killed a couple of bitches who wouldn’t back down, and they had my back a long time ago. I gave them the option to back the fuck down. They didn’t take it.

The reward for Freya’s death was too damn high. When I got my hands on Harris, there was going to be a special kind of death for him.

“So, point us to the ones you have, and we work from there,” I said.

“We’re going to need your special brand of torture,” Ivan said.

And this made me smile. I had a way of making men talk.

****

F reya

One Week Later

I expected to hate being alone with Victor, especially on an island with nothing to do. We found our own kind of entertainment, and while Victor is not attempting to hate me, I actually quite like him. He’s a good guy.

Okay, that might be pushing it, but I do like him. He’s a lot of fun. Behind one of the doors, we discovered a game room, which included a ping-pong table and an air hockey table as well. It did take us a little time to figure out how to get the air hockey table loaded up.

We have spent quite a few afternoons before dinner, just playing games, which was a lot of fun.

I didn’t realize how much fun it would be hanging out with Victor.

After dinner, we would sit, pick a new movie, watch it, and then go to bed.

For the past week, this had been our life, and I liked it. It felt good.

I cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Victor was an early riser, so I set the alarm beside my bed, so I was always up, ready to make coffee.

He didn’t like doing any kind of kitchen work, apart from washing the dishes.

He was more than happy to do those, and of course I helped him when I could.

I loved doing dishes with him, and I realized how silly that made me.

It would seem I liked spending time with Victor, especially when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass or a bully, or shouting at me. Everything else, I was quite happy with.

By the eighth day, I had just finished breakfast, putting the last fried egg onto Victor’s plate. Picking up both plates, I carried them through to the table, then I stood and looked around. Victor had come out, and then the cell phone he’d been given had rung.

He still hadn’t returned, and I spotted him out at the main front of the house, overlooking the ocean.

Heading out, I couldn’t help but smile, as everything felt good and I was so happy.

But then, I heard him.

“Look, I’m doing exactly what you asked me. I’m making her fall for me, okay? I’m going to make this marriage work, and then I’ll knock her up.”

And those feelings I had been having for the past few minutes faded. They shattered. I should have known.

“Breakfast is ready,” I said.

I wasn’t going to pretend I hadn’t heard him.

“Fuck.”

I didn’t stick around to listen to his bullshit. Entering the house, I was not going to trash the food, but I was not going to force my company on a man who clearly didn’t want it.

Grabbing my plate, I stepped into the kitchen, slid my ass onto one of the stools, and then sat down. Picking up my fork, I dived into the food, not really tasting the saltiness of the bacon, nor the freshness of the eggs. I wanted to eat so I could get the hell out of there.

“Freya,” Victor said.

I ignored him.

I ate my breakfast, and it was hard to be rude to someone. I didn’t like it when people were rude, it tended to piss me off.

“Damn it, Freya, you weren’t meant to hear that.”

“Clearly,” I said. I wanted to cringe, because that was me paying attention to him and contributing to a conversation, and that pissed me off. The best way to deal with this kind of situation was to ignore him. That is what I needed to do. Ignore him.

“It’s not what I meant.”

I dropped my fork onto my plate. “Not what you meant? So you’re not under some kind of order to make this fucking marriage work?” I asked. Then, I hated myself because it had made me cuss out loud. I had not cussed in a long time.

I shook my head. “You know what, Victor. I don’t need your pity. I don’t want your company. Not if you have to be ordered to do it. We’re married, but you know what, we don’t have to act like it.”

And with that, I got to my feet and stormed out of the house. I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was I didn’t want to be near him.

I get it. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m not anyone’s anything. I didn’t even think Victor was falling for me or anything like that. I thought we were getting along, and that we might even become friends. But that was also a lie.

Neither of us would become anything. We were done. Our marriage was a farce, an arrangement. There was never going to be even a mutual understanding. I could live with that.

I kept storming away, only my name was being called, and I ignored him. I didn’t need him to force himself to spend time with me. I was not that desperate.

I wanted to scream. That feeling took me by surprise. Why was it so hard to like me? What was it about me that repulsed everyone? Why ... what did I do wrong?

Even as I hated myself for doing this, I stopped stomping and looked straight ahead, only it was all blurry.

Tears filled my eyes, and I swiped at them, trying to clear my vision, but nothing would help.

I couldn’t stop the tears. I don’t know why I was crying.

Over the years, I had cried enough tears. Sinking onto the sand, I just give up.

What exactly had I done to deserve this? I followed the rules. Other than not getting plastic surgery, I did everything else. Followed the right path. Yet, it was not good enough.

My father hated me. My own mother didn’t even stick around long enough to know my name. The nannies that came into my world hated me. No one has ever liked me.

What did I do wrong? That question kept ringing in my head, and was driving me crazy.

And then I screamed, throwing myself away from Victor. He had caught up with me and wrapped his arms around me, but I didn’t want his comfort. I didn’t want anything from him.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

“You need to come home,” he said.

“Fuck you. What did I ever do to you? I try to build bridges with you, and you just tear them down. You know what, you are a shitty husband, and I don’t want to have kids with you, because I don’t want you to touch me. Sex with you is awful. I don’t even know why people are so obsessed with it.”

I stand there and throw every morsel of pain, and then I don’t feel better. All I did was tell him the truth. I hated myself.

“Freya, you can hate me and I know I’ve been shitty, but we’ve got to get inside. A storm is brewing, and we can’t be out here. That’s why Ivan was on the phone. He called me to tell me what to do. We’ve got to get inside right now.”

I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, I saw the dark cloud looming. Even the weather doesn’t have time for my tantrums. I wanted to scream. But instead, I just get to my feet, and with Victor by my side, holding my hand, we run to the house.

He closes the doors, and I listen to him as he barks orders at me on how to seal the house, as the storm hits. Loud rumbles of thunder echo throughout the house. We seal up each window, each door, latching them for security.

With everything secured, I find Victor in the main sitting room, and that was when he heard the rumble of thunder, the whip of lightening, and then our electricity went out.