Chapter 4
Sitka
Irace through the trails along my uncle’s property, veering to the left and away from the others so I can take the loop near Max and Talia’s. It’s stupid. I know I should be staying away, but when Kostya had texted saying he was bored and going to take a ride, my brothers and I had quickly said we’d join him. Less than thirty minutes later, we’d driven past the guards and then unloaded our bikes from the back of Misha’s truck.
I’ve been riding these trails since I was sixteen. Lucky for me, my dad not only appreciates but encourages my adrenaline junkie ways. He may not want me going wild in the city, but he has no problem with me taking the trails at a breakneck pace or hitting the waves with my brothers and cousins. He knows I’m careful, that I wouldn’t ever do anything that pushes the boundaries too far. I can be trusted to wear a helmet and follow the rules, but I need this rush, and my dad’s always understood that.
My ass could’ve used a breather, though. I use the pegs to stand as much as I can, but I can’t make it noticeable, so every time I join the others, I sit my ass down and let my helmet and goggles hide the pained look I’m wearing. Even with my burnt bottom screaming at me, I’m still loving every second ofthis ride. I’ve memorized every inch of these trails and my body instinctively knows when and where to lean and how to shift my weight for every sharp turn so I don’t fall over or have a nasty crash.
A flash of blue glints at me from the trees right before the much larger bike cuts in front of me and takes the lead. I’d recognize Misha’s monster of a bike anywhere, and when he blips the throttle a few times, I know he’s letting me know he’s laughing right now at having cut me off.
I may not be able to handle the bigger bikes because my short legs won’t allow it, but I’ve learned to use my size to my advantage, and when we take the next turn, I gun it and lean in hard for the turn. The triumphant whoop of pure joy I give when I skim past him and take the lead is drowned out by the loud whine of our engines and the thick helmet I’m wearing. It doesn’t lessen the rush of adrenaline that’s coursing through my veins, though, and when I take the next bend and see the others up ahead, I quickly join them, following them deeper into the forest.
We ride for hours, and since I never learned to say no to a challenge, I jump way too many ditches and ride harder than I probably should. By the time I cut the engine and pull my goggles and helmet off, I’m sweaty and my muscles ache to the point where I know I’ll be feeling it tomorrow. My ass went numb about thirty minutes ago, so the jury is still out on that piece of my body, but I have a feeling I’ll be cursing myself to hell and back when it sparks back to life.
Yuri stops next to me and pushes his goggles up onto his helmet. “You’re fucking insane.”
I grin at my brother. “You’re one to talk.”
He laughs as the others join us. Soon I’m encircled by men who are twice my size and bikes that make mine look measly in comparison. I learned long ago that my size can be an assetand that wishing I was taller or stronger is nothing but a waste of time. I’d rather be underestimated. The look of surprise when people realize I’m not just a shy bookworm is always so priceless.
Not that I’ve had ample opportunities to prove people wrong. The private tutors I had mixed with our family’s bodyguards meant no one was ever allowed to get too close to me. Thanks to my brothers I do get more exposure than our parents know about, but it’s not quite the same thing.
“Speedy little Sitka,” Tyoma says. His green eyes are a bit wild from the adrenaline, and when he brushes his sweaty brown hair off his forehead, I almost wish I could feel something for him that wasn’t familial. At nineteen we’re the closest in age with Kostya right ahead of us at twenty. Both are undeniably gorgeous, and unfortunately I’ve never seen either one of them as anything other than family. They’re the only two guys I’m not related to, and I’m incapable of drumming up any sort of sexual attraction to them, and I’ve tried plenty.
I’m pretty sure they feel the same way about me because they’ve never once tried anything or even hinted that they wanted to. It might help that the city and all the available women within it are fair game to all of them. Whereas I’m stuck getting my rocks off on adrenaline instead of sex.
“We need to get Damien and Ev to join us next time,” Yuri says, and all my focus zeros in on that one name. Dark eyes, jet-black hair, a muscled body that makes my heart race, and a wicked smile—the image of Damien taunts me with the idea that he’d be a whole lot more fun to ride than the bike beside me.
“Maybe after Aunt Nina’s big family supper,” Kostya says. His dad’s been inking him since he turned eighteen and got his first tattoo, the Medvedev bear that marks him as a Bratva member, and when he shoves the sleeve of his sweatshirt up, I catch sight of the intricate colorful designs that cover his arm.
“What supper?” I ask.
He glances over to answer me. “She wanted to welcome them here and get us all together.” He shrugs a broad shoulder. “I don’t know. I just know we’re all supposed to be there.”
“We need to take them surfing,” Misha says.
Kostya groans while Tyoma says, “The water is fucking freezing, man. You’re the only one who enjoys freezing his ass off before the sun’s even risen.”
“I like it,” I say, earning me a grin from my brother and a raised brow from Tyoma before he says, “That’s because you’re as batshit crazy as your brothers.”
“Hey,” Yuri says. “We’re not batshit crazy.”
“You sure about that?” Kostya asks with a laugh. “What’s the first thing you ask every girl you meet?”
When my brother stays quiet, everyone but me laughs. I’m out of the loop on this one, and I’m not so sure I want in on it, but Yuri answers before I can step away.
“I ask if they like to run.”
Kostya and Tyoma share a look while Misha claps our brother on the back before saying, “A perfectly reasonable question.”
“Exactly,” Yuri says. “Why not get the vital stuff out of the way first? If she hates to run, we have no future.”
I’m still trying to figure out why my brother would care so much about a girl’s exercise habits when the others notice my confused face and laugh even harder.
It’s Kostya who decides to fill me in. “He wants to chase them,” he says.
When it clicks into place, I groan and say, “Why did you tell me that? I don’t want to know that shit.”
