Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1) (26 page)

Violet sucked in a hard breath. Her father could have said
a lot of things, but calling her a “mess” downright cut her to the bone.

“Keep focusing,” her father continued to say, oblivious to
her hurt. “Give me something to be proud of, hmm? Because if you do flunk out,
then you’re promising yourself very little but the life of a housewife with no
education, dependent on her husband to carry her.”

“Is that really what you think I’d be good for, marriage?”

Alberto didn’t bat a lash. “A couple of decades ago,
daughters of made men who couldn’t make themselves useful in other ways often
found themselves of use to the family.”

“Meaning what?”

“Exactly what I already said. Housewives.”

Violet bit hard on her inner cheek, disliking how that felt
like a slightly veiled threat. She tossed a look at the clock, noting the time
was well after seven. “I should get back to Manhattan. School in the morning,
right?”

Alberto nodded, and stood from the table. “Remember what I
said,
dolcezza
.”

Right.

Housewife.

As her father turned to leave, Violet reached down for her
purse. She grabbed the phone out and unlocked the screen, seeing Kaz had
responded to her text earlier in the day.

She had just opened the message up when her father turned
back around saying, “Oh, and Violet?”

Violet’s head snapped up, heart racing. “Yeah?”

“I let Gee take the night off. Call a cab to take you
back.”

She nodded, glancing back down at the phone.

An ache settled deep in her stomach, traveling even lower.

Kaz had sent back his own picture. Black and white, his
hand shoved down his unbuttoned pants and wrapped around the base of his
length, the rest hidden where she couldn’t see. She only knew it was him
because of the tattoos, and damn, because she knew his body now.

Her mouth went dry.

Another message quickly followed.

An address.

A time.

Nothing else.

She took that to mean it wasn’t a request.

Vasily was waiting in his office, a gun on his desk. Kaz
shook his head as he entered, eyeing it. “Are you trying to send me a message,
Vasily?”

His father looked from the gun to him and shook his head.
“Of course not.”

How easily he overlooked something as simple as his weapon
being out, but Kaz? Kaz rarely, if ever, saw a gun that close to Vasily, not
when he had men at his back at all times.

Ignoring it for the time being, Kaz said, “What did you
need, besides the whole, avoid Gallucci thing. That’s getting a bit redundant,
no? After all, it’s not like I actively sought out this last encounter.”

“I’m sure you’re completely innocent, Kazimir,” Vasily
said, sounding like that was the last thing he believed. “I know you better
than to believe something of the sort.”

“Good to know.” He had thought about dismissing the
incident with Carmine entirely, at least until he thought about what had been
said. “He has a big mouth though.”

“Oh?”

Kaz sat forward, looking around with casual disinterest at
the paintings that hung on the walls of Vasily’s office. “Mentioned how his
family helped ours some years ago. I’d wager I was about ten? Eleven?”

Vasily scoffed. “Those Italians always believe they do more
than the average man. I wouldn’t place too much credence into anything the boy
said. After all, he is his father’s son.”

It was funny, seeing how easily Vasily disregarded what Kaz
was saying, especially when he didn’t know what all Carmine had actually said.
“True, but I did wonder what he meant by that. Oh wait,” Kaz said as though he
had just realized something, “he probably was talking about that meeting. You
and Alberto, his daughter and I. Considering how much you actually hate the
man, what made you attend a meeting with him?”

Vasily cleared his throat, sitting up just a little bit
straighter as he regarded his son. “It was necessary at the time. Do you
remember that bomb that nearly took your life? Who do you think set it? If you
wonder
why
I hate those Galluccis, look no further than that.”

“And Gavrill?” Kaz asked next. “How did he feel about you
meeting with a man he wanted dead?”

There was a flash of some dark emotion in the man’s eyes,
but it was gone before Kaz could read into it. “The uncle you loved and the man
that was
Pakhan
were two very different people. You couldn’t possibly
understand, not at your age. To you and your brother, he was the savior. You
two treated the man like he was fucking royalty though he wasn’t.”

Had they? Kaz remembered Ruslan’s doting, but never his
own. Sure, he had looked up to his uncle, loved the man, but back then, before
life and its pain came between them, Kaz had looked up to his father as well.

But even with his passionate speech, Kaz still didn’t miss
one important detail. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

“No?” Vasily rested his fists on his desk as he stared
across at Kaz, unblinking. He lacked the fatherly pride of only a few minutes
ago, now replaced with coldness that Kaz had no trouble reading. “Why are you
asking about this
now
, Kazimir? What has you so curious?”

Kaz had to quell his need to tap his fingers, balling his
fists instead. “I hate being in the dark on certain matters—I’m sure you can
understand this. Carmine Gallucci? He knows who I am, and what I’m capable of,
but yet he stood toe-to-toe with me, spouting off about things I’m not sure
of.”

“What did he say?” There was an edge to Vasily’s voice as
he asked the question.

“You misunderstand. It’s what he didn’t say that concerns
me. In one breath, he’s spouting off about how his family has helped ours. In
the next, he’s telling me how he’ll put me down, just as he did my uncle.” Kaz
moved to the edge of his seat. “That sounds pretty fucking strange to me.”

Vasily slowly rose to his feet, the glare on his face enough
to reflect his current mood. “If there is a question, ask it. My patience for
this runs thin.”

“The meeting in the cemetery … what were the odds that it
was about Gavrill?”

“I’ve told you to leave it be, Kazimir.
Eto prikaz
—that’s
an order.”

That should have been the end of it.
Should have
.

But Kaz wasn’t done yet. “We know it was the Italians that
killed Gavrill, I’ve heard you say as much. And yet, you never once tried to
get back at them for it.”

“I’ll tell you why!” Vasily suddenly shouted, his face gone
red with rage. “Your uncle was a fucking tyrant, and cared nothing for the
lives of the men that had to answer for the shit he pulled. Do you think he
cared that you were almost killed because of a turf war
he
started? Or
even that you were practically blind for weeks? No, none of that mattered. He
only cared for money and sating his bloodlust.”

Very calmly, Kaz asked, “So he needed to die?”

There was a moment where Vasily’s lips moved just as he was
about to answer the question, but he caught himself, shaking his head as though
to get his control back. “Of course not.”

It took years before Kaz could see it, that tell that
betrayed Vasily’s thoughts. For the longest time, he had never been able to
tell whether his father was lying or not, not until he was seventeen. And his
tell was not one that could be easily seen, not unless one knew to look for it,
and only if they were close enough to see.

But he was close enough then, and he could clearly see that
his father’s eyebrows were twitching, like the muscles there couldn’t be
controlled.

Except, Kaz knew.

Vasily was lying.

“Right.” Kaz regarded his father, taking in the details he
never paid attention to in the past. “Are we done here? I’ve got shit to do.”

Vasily waved him off. “Go.”

Kaz moved to do just that, but as he hit the door, Vasily
called behind him. “Careful what questions you ask, Kazimir. You won’t always
like the answer.”

Or rather, he wouldn’t like the way Vasily responded.

Leaving the unspoken threat hanging between them, Kaz left
the office, then the building entirely. For once, he was ready to get the hell
out of Little Odessa.

V
iolet stepped out of
the taxi after handing over the cash for the fare. She stepped up onto the
sidewalk, noting how dark and quiet the street was, like it had practically
shut down for the night. It was a rare find in Brooklyn where a person could
always find something open, something to do.

She checked her phone again, making sure she had given the
driver the right street address that Kaz had messaged her earlier. It was.

So where was he?

Shifting the messenger bag over her shoulder, Violet took a
few steps down the street, and stopped when lights flashed at her from the
side. Hidden just in the mouth of the alleyway between two large buildings was
a familiar Porsche.

And Kaz, leaning against the hood with his key ring in
hand. He hit a button on the fob, flashing the lights at her again.

“Cute,” she told him.

Kaz shrugged. “Better than standing way out in the open
looking around for nothing.”

“Ass.”

“A little,” he agreed. “Are you just going to stand there
all day, or …?”

Laughing, Violet made a beeline for Kaz. She was well aware
of how much she constantly found herself thinking of him, or what he might be
doing, and how that often left her missing him in one way or another. But
seeing him brought it all bubbling right back up to the surface, fast and
fierce.

It had yet to fail to surprise her.

She didn’t entirely understand what it meant.

Violet figured as long as it felt right, it couldn’t be
wrong.

Kaz’s arms opened the closer Violet came to where he was
leaning against the hood. She dropped her bag to the ground a second before she
was swallowed by a familiar, strong embrace. Her feet came off the ground
before she realized it, and her backside met the hood of the Porsche.

Violet’s grin and breathless laughter was muffled by Kaz
when he kissed her hard, taking away what air she had left. For a moment, she
was lost in him—again. It was easy to forget about the rules she was supposed
to follow and the stupidity of her choice to be there with Kaz when his hands
grasped tightly to her jaw, he forced her head back, and he kissed her even
deeper, a smug smile growing.

“You sent me a dirty picture,” he told her, dotting kisses
along the seam of her lips.

Violet shook her head. “That was not a dirty picture. You
sent me one with your cock in it. Totally different thing.”

“Mmm, no.”

“I beg to differ.” Her hand landed against his chest,
needing the space to think and talk. Kaz moved at her unspoken request, but he
was still pressed firm enough between her thighs that she could feel the length
of his erection straining against his slacks. “I showed you what you left.
You—”

“Showed you what you left,” he replied, smirking.

Violet had to look away to keep from smiling. “You’re
terrible.”

“No, I’m just not going to lose this argument. That’s all.”

“Mine was innocent. Last word. It’s final.”

Kaz cocked a brow and said, “You knew damn well that
wouldn’t be innocent, and I wouldn’t take it that way.”

She had.

Violet wouldn’t admit it, though.

“I see how this works,” Kaz said after she stayed silent,
refusing to budge even an inch.

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

His sexy grin grew into a softer smile. “Missed you, huh?”

The statement was simple enough—innocent, even.

But it still didn’t feel that way.

Violet didn’t think Kaz was the kind of man to just blurt
out something like that for just anyone. And if he did say it, he likely meant
it and probably more that he
wasn’t
saying. It was just one of the many
reasons why Violet was finding it especially difficult to keep distance between
her and him.

When she stayed away, or tried to, something was pulling
her right back in.

“Missed you, too,” she said honestly.

Kaz swept the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones,
leaning down for another quick kiss. “I take it you didn’t have any trouble
getting down here?”

“No. I came here from Amityville, and then I’ll head back
up to Manhattan.”

He stiffened slightly. “Your father’s place?”

“Called me over before classes were out.”

Violet wondered if Kaz would just come right out with the
fact he had a run-in with her brother, or if he wouldn’t say a thing.

He surprised her.

“I take it your brother ran to daddy, yes?” he asked.

Violet laughed dryly. “What did you do to him?”

“Very little. Less than what he deserved.”

“Carmine is a little …”

“Spoiled. Entitled. Unqualified. I have a couple more, but
feel free to tell me to stop.”

Violet didn’t need to. “All of the above, but he’s also
bitter and jealous.”

Kaz glanced down at her. “For what?”

“Me,” she said, unfazed. “And my dad.”

His fingers pressed a little firmer to her jaw, forcing her
gaze back up to his. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

“That he’s jealous?”

“No, that your father has made him that way,” Kaz replied.

Violet hadn’t ever looked at it like that before. “Never
really thought about it.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Why? I don’t see how it matters. It’s the same thing with
my mother, only the tables are turned. Carmine is the golden boy and I’m the …
leftovers
,
for lack of a better word.”

Kaz tipped his chin down, something flashing in his gray
eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I really don’t want to talk about how fucked up my family
is. It’s better that no one sees it at all. We’re just hiding it all behind
closed doors, and sweeping it under rugs. It’s always been like this.”

“But your father …”

“What about him?” she asked, feeling her defenses rise a
bit at the bitter twist to his tone.

“What did he call you over for today, anyway? The run-in
with your brother had nothing to do with you, no? You didn’t need to be there,
Violet.”

“Wasn’t really about that. He was worried, wanted to see
me. And then we had a chat about how I’m fucking up lately with school, and can
look forward to becoming the best little housewife for some man if I don’t
correct it and soon.”

Kaz’s hands dropped to her sides instantly. “That, right
there.”

Violet’s head snapped up. “What?”

“You believe that shit.”

She opened her mouth to argue the point, but something kept
her quiet. Maybe it was the way Kaz watched her silently, waiting for her to
say something. Or maybe it was the way she let her mind turn over conversations
she’d had with her father when she wasn’t performing up to his satisfaction in
life.

“How often does he do that?” Kaz asked after a long while.

Violet glanced away, refusing to meet his stare. “I’m not
sure what you mean.”

“I think you do,
krasivaya
. It’s the same damn thing
as before—when you said he didn’t want a daughter who shamed him. Words like
‘shame’ shouldn’t be used between a father and his daughter. It’s manipulation.
It’s unhealthy. And let me guess, how pissed off are you right now that I just
called it out, because you want to defend him?”

She was going to deny that, too, but she couldn’t. Not with
the way the anger was simmering in her bloodstream. She loved her father, and
he wasn’t perfect, but he was hers.

And yet, Kaz had a good point.

Nothing he said was untrue.

“It’s not important,” Violet said weakly.

She didn’t even believe her own words.

“And this is not why I came here tonight,” she added,
stronger than before.

“It might not be, but it’s out there now,” Kaz responded,
unbothered at her anger. “You’re close to him, no doubt. He makes it seem like
pleasing him is what will further you—what makes you better. Because that’s how
it has been for forever, no? You make him happy, and in return he’s happy with
you. But when he’s not happy with you, then he takes away what you want. His
approval, affection, and that sort of thing. Am I wrong?”

Violet sucked in a hard breath, letting the air burn in her
lungs as she held it in. “I said—”

“Don’t want to talk about it. Yeah, I got that. Just answer
me.”

“Obviously you’re wrong, or I wouldn’t be here with you
right now.”

“Wrong,” Kaz murmured. “That is only one single part of
what makes everything I said right. Because you don’t always do what he says,
and you don’t always believe what he tells you like its gospel. And sometimes
it might not always feel right, but when you get someone else’s voice in your
head instead of his, you start seeing that things aren’t colored just the way
he says they are.”

“Kaz—”

“Like me,” he interrupted. “I am not what your father said
I would be, am I?”

Violet clenched her teeth, but the word slipped out anyway.
“No.”

“And that pisses you off, yes?”

Right then, he was kind of pissing her off.

Violet still knew Kaz was right. Even if it hurt a lot to
admit it.

“No need to continue,” Violet said, blinking away the
wetness starting to gather in her eyes. “The rose-tinted glasses have been
pulled off, so thank you.”

Kaz grabbed her waist hard and pulled her to the very edge
of the hood, keeping their bodies firmly pressed together. “I didn’t say it to
make you angry with me.”

“I know.”

“But you are. Angry with me.”

“More with myself,” she admitted softly.

Kaz sighed, and then quickly pulled her down from the hood,
snagging her hand with his own and weaving their fingers together. “Come on.
Let’s go do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Violet didn’t doubt him.

The Porsche came to a stop on wet sand, and Violet was already
unbuckling her seatbelt to get out.

“The pier is closed for a week,” Kaz informed, opening his
door as Violet climbed out of the car. “They’re doing some minor construction,
and closed down the beach for about a mile either way for safety’s sake, but
they’re lax on monitoring it during the night.”

Violet looked around, noting there was no one as far as she
could see. Parked right beside the pier, the Porsche was hidden by shadows, and
so were they.

“And what happens if someone catches us down here?”

Kaz laughed. “They won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure, Kaz.”

“I’m pretty sure,” he countered. “And it was this or my
place again.”

Violet’s brow furrowed as she met him at the front of the
Porsche. Kaz leaned against the hood, holding a hand out for her to take. She
did, letting him tug her into his side. A heavy arm rested over her shoulder,
and she smiled when he kissed her temple.