Cezar let Ion go, shoving him onto the floor. He popped up and waved a switchblade at Nicu as he advanced. “I told you not to hurt her. She’s ours, but if you don't want her, then she’ll just be mine, and I’ll fight you for her.” He looked to the side and whispered, “Of course, I can take him, Cal; who the fuck do you think is the real badass in this family. Don’t doubt my skills.”
Ion rolled over, holding his side as he spat out, “You fucking stabbed me, you crazy asshole!” Flinching back, my eyes slid over to the man still staring at me with ruthless dead eyes, like his brother stabbing his other brother was nothing to be bothered with. What the fuck was I doing here? How the fuck was I going to get out of this?
He turned away from Nicu for a second, pointing the knife at Ion, “And there's more where that came from,” before turning back to face the man who was much more bulky than him.
Nicu eyed him up and down, assessing him before folding his arms and shrugging. “If you want to talk about it, brother, we can step outside,” he left without an answer.
Ion glared at Cezar as he moved around him to follow Nicu out. He spat under his breath, “Fucking psycho. Get your head on straight.”
As soon as Ion slammed the door shut, I could see Cezar’s back rise and fall, the knife still in his hand dripping crimson onto the floor. He really did stab his brother. What the fuck?
Cezar’s labored voice came out harsh and cold, “I'm sorry. I’ll do better at letting them know not to hurt you.” Glancing over his shoulder with a savage grin, his voice lightened, “It's just how this family is, my Roma. This family only knows loyalty and violence, and they often come hand in hand.”
His eyes narrowed on my neck before he shook his head and whispered to himself. “I know, I know. It was close, but he was also so close. It might work, it might not.” He whined, “I can't do it alone, being the only one to try.” He stomped his foot, jabbing the knife in his hand to the floor, “Stupid, stupid, stupid brothers!”
It seemed he was on the verge of some breakdown or rage, and I knew I needed to calm the situation. “It's okay, Cezar,” I croaked, wincing at my raw throat and hoarse voice. “I’m okay.”
He was next to me in a second, his shadow encompassing me just like his brothers, but when I looked up, I didn't see cold, harsh eyes looking down at me. There was a wildness, a frantic need in these eyes that called to the softer side of me, the side of me that wanted to help people with mental illness. He trailed a feather-soft finger down my neck, growling like an animal until his eyes met mine.
“He doesn't know, but he will. They both will.” He leaned down, smelling like violent waves that could consume me. His lips were a hair away from mine as those wild eyes focused on me. My heart thumped in my ears, eyes shuttering as my body trembled. Fear at all that crazed attention solely on me made my adrenaline spike… and I didn't hate it. How fucked up was that?
“You’re the only one. They told me so, and we should always listen to the dead. They know their stuff.” His words made no sense to me, but I caught the words that simultaneously made the most and least sense. Dead. Did he think he was talking to the dead? Was he clairvoyant? Was that what made him… this way?
The next moment, his lips crashed into mine. I froze, my mind and body warring within themselves, telling me I should shove this man away and wipe my lips, while the other was coaching me on letting this happen, to enjoy it to see if he let his guard down.
His hot tongue swiped at my bottom lip, teasing, asking to be let in, to be able to consume me. I let survival win over dignity and wrapped my arms around his ink-covered neck, tracing my fingers along his spine.
This time, he hesitated, probably not expecting my enthusiastic response, but he adjusted quickly. He pushed me backward onto the bed, cupping my head to make sure I was set down gently as his tongue explored.
For just a moment, I let go of the fact a psycho kidnapped me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting the friction, the attention. Just to feel good after so long of feeling shitty.
His mouth broke from mine, kissing up to my ear as he cooed, “Wild Roma girl.”
“Kazia,” I exhaled, feeling entirely too good too fast.
He propped himself up, his eyes turning into a calm green ocean of sanity. “Kazia. My Roma. Our Roma.”
My brows furrowed, and I blurted out, “I'm more than just Romani.” It felt like he was focusing on one piece of me, and I didn't like it… which was just crazy of me. Why do I give a shit what he was focusing on as long as he isn't going to kill me?
His thumb ran down my cheek and over my lips, pulling the bottom lip out. He licked his lips, staring at that bottom lip like a wolf, itching for a bite. “Yes and no. You're more and yet just as you are. What we need and what we shouldn't have.”
With his eyes roaming my face as he saw it for the first time, his eyes changed to that sporadic wildness right before someone banged on the door.
Cezar jumped off me, backing away with a wiry smile and a hand sailing through his hair. “I have to go fight the dragon,” his head tipped up in thought, “or maybe he’s more like a wolf… so I guess I just need a red cape and an axe, right?”
Before I could answer, he ran off, opened the door, and slipped out of the room like he wasn't ever there. My hand went to my lips; the feeling of his still pressed against them made me feel like I was the crazy one. How the hell did he turn that all around on me? Was I starting to like the lunatic that talks to the dead and speaks to me in riddles?
This was going to be harder than I thought.
6
NICU
Icouldn’t get out of that room fast enough. A familiar need clawed in the back of my head.Go back. Finish what you started. Show her who’s in control.
A shudder rippled through me, my whole body on edge. Rolling my neck to get the tension to ease, I knew I needed some semblance of control to get my mind and body back on track. My fingers twitched as visions flooded my brain. Those defying amber eyes of hers, her not bending to my will immediately. Everything inside me demanded I claim back some of the power from that exchange with that woman.
That Romani. I was never one to believe in any of that superstitious voodoo shit, but something about this woman crawled underneath my skin.
