Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1) (32 page)

“
Topina
,” Alberto called loudly, “
venire
.
Now.”

Kaz didn’t move, he barely even breathed. He wasn’t sure
what the Italian had said, but it couldn’t have been too threatening,
considering it was only a couple of words.

When Alberto didn’t get the desired reaction from within
the house that he clearly wanted, his calm mask slipped a bit when his gaze
narrowed.

“Fine, Violet,” Alberto said, still loud enough to carry
over the yard and into the dark house. “We will do this your way,
ragazza
.
Il prossimo scatola apparterrà al suo cuore
.”

“What did you just say?” Kaz demanded.

Alberto said nothing to Kaz, simply held his hand down to
his side, and opened his palm to his still groaning son. “Take my hand and get
up off the ground, Carmine. I have let you whimper down there long enough. Any
more and you will turn into a sniveling puppy. Get up.
Adesso
.”

By the time Carmine was on his feet again, his broken jaw
being cradled by his hand, Alberto’s attention was back on the front door of
the house.

“Twenty seconds, Violet,” Alberto informed like he was
breaking bread. “I have the knife already sharpened,
dolcezza
.”

Kaz’s brows drew together at his words, trying to
understand what the man was getting at, but he didn’t have time to ponder it
for long, not when Violet came running out of the house, frantic eyes on her
father even as she stopped next to Kaz.

He didn’t think he had ever seen her look so torn.

But he didn’t reach for her … merely stood at her side.
Whatever choice she made, he wasn’t going to force her hand either way.

“Violet,” Alberto said, his tone having softened as he
offered his hand. “It’s time to leave.”

Her eyes shifted over the men, as though seeing them all
for the first time. Kaz was sure that she would have tucked her head, walked
away with them, and accepted whatever punishment her father saw fit for her
relationship with him—at least until he felt her fingers slide against his,
twining them as she held tight.

“I’m not leaving.”

Kaz was careful to keep his face neutral, though the
surprise he felt internally was reflected on Alberto’s face as he turned to
face his daughter, like he had never considered that she would defy him.

Alberto was still trying to maintain that calm demeanor
though his eyes spoke a different story as he said, “Do not push me on this.
Get in the car. Now.”

But even still, she remained next to Kaz, her hand in his.

She refused to move.

Not after he asked again, then asked once more.

One minute Alberto was content with merely asking, but in
the next breath, all decorum fled as he snatched Violet by the arm, thick
fingers digging into her flesh, enough to make her wince in pain as he
attempted to draw her to his side.

Except, she had barely taken two steps before Kaz had his
own gun in hand, the barrel pointed straight at one of the men in the state
that he really
shouldn’t
pull a gun on.

He could feel everyone tense as they waited. A made man
pulling a gun on their boss could potentially be a death sentence, but the
enemy doing it?

He was practically asking to die.

“Let her go before me pulling this trigger is the last
thing you see.”

Alberto wasn’t afraid, not that Kaz had expected him to be,
but he thought he might have seen a touch of admiration in the man’s eyes. “If
only you were Italian, my boy. Now, you would be wise to move that gun out of
my face.”

Kaz’s arm didn’t even twitch as he repeated himself,
saying, “Let her go.”

When Alberto’s gaze shifted just slightly, Kaz was too late
to see the fist coming his way. Blood filled his mouth almost instantly, and he
could feel the sting of his split lip. He could hear Violet screaming, the
sound of it felt like it was tearing him apart—he only belatedly realized it
was his name she was yelling.

The hits still rained down on him, but Kaz no longer cared,
swinging his arm, he brought the butt of his weapon across the man’s face. But
he didn’t linger to see his good work, instead he headed to the street, walking
into the center where the car was now trying to pass.

Even with the tinted glass, he could still make out Alberto
Gallucci, Carmine on one side, Violet on the other.

“She walks away, or you don’t,” Kaz warned, aiming at the
windshield, making sure Alberto could see just how serious he was. “And before
your driver gets any great ideas, know that I can still kill you before he even
makes contact.”

Kaz was so focused on the man that he didn’t hear the
sirens, or see the flashing lights, not until they were upon him, three
officers climbing out of a squad car with weapons drawn.

“Kazimir Markovic! Put down your weapon!”

Kaz kept his gun exactly where it was, but did lift his
gaze just far enough to take in the officers. He didn’t recognize them, and
doubted they were his father’s men, who could be bought off for the right price
… so how did they know his name?

It dawned on him quite slowly at first as he took in the
scene around him, realizing how it made him look. He was the only one standing
there with a gun at that very moment, and as quickly as he had been surrounded
just moments prior, the men had already climbed back into their cars.

This time, Kaz did smile.

He’d been fucking played.

“Markovic, we will not ask again! Drop your weapon and put
your hands where we can see them!”

Turning that smile to Alberto, he didn’t take his eyes off
the man as he did what he was told, placing his gun at his feet before holding
his hands, palms out for them to see.

“This isn’t over, Gallucci. This won’t ever be over.”

He could almost see Alberto frown as his words penetrated,
but Kaz lost sight of him as he was grabbed and shoved onto the hood of the
car, his arms wrenched behind his back. He thought he heard Violet’s cries as
one of the officers read him his rights; he could almost imagine he heard her
pleading for him, but as he was forced up, and pushed toward the squad car, he
knew he would never be able to get that sound out of his head.

Officer Barnes, from the name on his tag, had a hand to
Kaz’s head and was about to push him down into the car when they all paused at
the sight of Vera running out the house. At first, Kaz thought she was coming
for him, but then he noticed her attention was on something past him.

And more, her curses and words weren’t spoken in English.

But Russian …

Kaz turned to look over his shoulder, trying to see who his
sister was yelling at, but knew with a gut feeling who it would be.

It didn’t make sense otherwise.

How could they have known he and Violet were at Vera’s
place at all?

There were only two people that knew where Kaz would go if
he was in trouble, it had been that way since they were children, but only one
of those two people did Kaz know would not give that information to anyone.

He didn’t know how he had his fingers dipped in this one,
but Kaz didn’t doubt that his father was behind this.

He only got a glimpse of Vasily before he was being forced
into the car, the door slammed shut after. Already, the fleet of cars that
belonged to the Gallucci family were vanishing out of view.

Kaz didn’t have time to reflect on that, not when the
officers were climbing in the car themselves, it was only moments later when
they were pulling off.

“You’re lucky the boss’s daughter was there,” Barnes said
from the front seat, glancing back at him. “He went easy on you for her sake.”

Boss? Kaz was trying to piece together what the man was
saying when it clicked. The reason why he didn’t recognize them was because
they worked for the opposite side.

They were on Alberto’s payroll.

Shit.
Why hadn’t he thought
of that before?

The panic must have shown in his face because the one
driving laughed.

“Don’t worry, Markovic,” the officer said looking away from
the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the interstate. “You’re not going to die
tonight.”

V
iolet yanked her arm
out of her father’s grasp, turning in the seat to stare out the rearview
window. It killed her—
killed her
—to watch the police shove a handcuffed
Kaz into the back of a police car. It wasn’t long before her view was
obstructed by moving cars, and then their vehicle was taking a corner, leaving
the scene behind.

She felt the hot tears crawl down her cheeks, her breaths
coming out hard and fast with each one.

The man who had attacked Kaz—she hadn’t seen him rush in
from the side until it was too late. She should have warned Kaz somehow.

“Turn around,” Alberto said, calm and seemingly happy.

Violet didn't listen.

Carmine was too busy holding his broken jaw, cursing in a
mumbled way every so often, to care about his sister or his father.

The next box I hold will belong to his heart.

That’s what her father had said.

It was the only reason she came out of the house, even
knowing she shouldn’t.

That fear—the terror—sent her running.

But it wasn't quite enough to make her go when her father
demanded she should. She didn’t belong with her father, she wanted Kaz.

“Violet, turn around and sit,” Alberto said.

She still didn’t give him what he wanted.

Without warning, her father grabbed her arm and twisted,
making pain shoot through her shoulder as he forced her to sit in the seat
properly.

Alberto didn’t let her go, his fingernails digging into her
skin.

Violet hissed. “Let me go.”

“There, that’s better,” Alberto said like she hadn’t
uttered a thing.

“Daddy—”

For the first time since she had come out of the house, she
saw a real anger flash in her father’s eyes and settle deep into the scowling
lines of his face. “Do not call me that like you want to find some sympathetic
part in me. You are twenty-one, not a child. You know how to follow my rules.
And I will no longer keep treating you with the kid gloves I have in the past,
Violet. You …”

Violet blinked, feeling another swell of tears fall from
the corners of her eyes. “What?”

“You couldn’t have hurt me more—betrayed me more—than how
you did with that Russian.”

“Kaz.”

Alberto didn’t give a thing away when he asked, “What?”

“He is not
the
Russian
, his name is
Kazimir
.”

“You are being foolish,” Alberto spat. “A foolish, stupid
girl who spread her legs for a pretty man and nothing more.”

He could have slapped her and it would have felt better.

Violet refused to show how his words cut her. “Then why not
leave me to be with him, huh? If I shamed you so much, why not let me
go
and be the whore you clearly think I am?”

Stay
, she had wanted to
say.
Stay with Kaz.

A man who loved her.

Who would protect her at all cost.

Who never treated her like her father did.

“Because you are not his,” her father said sharply, his
fingers digging in harder on her arm. “You are
mine
.”

“I’m not,” Violet whispered. “Not after this.”

Alberto’s gaze narrowed, but he finally let her go. “Fix
your face.”

She didn’t make a move to do what he said, letting her
tears stain her cheeks even more.

Her father waved a hand at the driver. “Chris, take us
around to the Kitchen.”

The driver glanced at Alberto in the rearview mirror.
“Boss?”

“The Kitchen—to the Black Hall,” Alberto demanded.

Violet didn't know what her father was talking about, but
it couldn’t be good considering even Carmine had lifted his head and was
staring at Alberto like the man had grown a second head.

“What?” her brother mumbled.

“Make it fast,” Alberto said, never taking his gaze off
Violet.

What was going on?

Violet watched streets fly by and eventually become more
familiar, until they were in the bowels of Hell’s Kitchen and coming to a stop
at what looked like a rundown, decrepit building that might, at one time, have
been an apartment building.

“Stay in the car, I do not need you for this,” Alberto told
the driver, and then Carmine. He grabbed Violet’s arm, pulling her with him as
he exited the back of the car. “Keep quiet, and keep up, darling.”

She didn’t like how he’d used that endearment with just a
hint of sarcasm and condescension, but chose to do as he said.

At that point, it wasn’t like Violet had much of a damn
choice.

It wasn’t long after they entered the shamble of a building
before Violet figured out why her father had called it Black Hall. Darkness
enveloped the entire place but when a small, flickering light bulb was turned
on, black halls stared back at her from every direction.

Alberto pulled her along, opening a door to another set of
halls, and a staircase. Again, the place was black all over, even with the bit
of light.

Violet couldn’t understand why they would paint the place
black like it was, and it almost felt like the walls were fucking closing in on
her because it seemed so small. Her heart rate picked up, thundering. Anxiety
simmered through her bloodstream.

“What—”

“Shut up,” Alberto said.

Violet snapped her mouth shut, letting her father continue
to drag her along like she was a doll and nothing more. The more she breathed
in the air of the building, the sicker she felt. It stunk with a musky, earthy
tone, but also with something she couldn’t describe. Something that smelled
like rotting meat and garbage.

Finally, her father pushed open a door at the end of yet
another long, small black hallway. His hand found her shoulders, and he shoved,
pushing her inside first.

Violet spun on her heel to face her father, and he slammed
the door shut, and flicked on another tiny light bulb that barely did the job
of lighting the small space.

All over again, the walls seemed to close in on Violet.

“You never liked the dark when you were a child,” Alberto
said, taking one step away from the door.

Violet forced her panic down, keeping her gaze on her
father and not the black walls surrounding her. “I’m not a child now.”

“Clearly. But I’m not quite sure what to think of you now,
either. A lady doesn’t seem to fit what with your recent behavior. No lady
would go on acting as you did with that Russian.”

She beat down the urge to correct Alberto again.

“Why am I here?” Violet chanced a look at the dark walls,
wishing the room was bigger. She didn’t like small spaces, either. “And what is
this place?”

Alberto smiled, but it came off cold.

She had no doubt he meant for it to.

“This, Violet, is the Black Hall. And I wanted to show you
it.”

That answered nothing.

“
Why
? To frighten me with it because it’s small and
dark?”

Alberto chuckled, waving a finger at her. “Smart, but it’s
actually much bigger than you think. And there are chains on every exit door.
The walls are so thick that no one can be heard screaming when they’re brought
here, and even better, no one would say a thing if they were heard. But no,
that isn’t why I brought
you
here.”

Violet clenched her fists at her sides, confused and wary.
“I don’t understand.”

“All it takes is a room like this, and a few days to ruin a
man’s mind.”

“So?”

“I want you to take a good look around you right now,
imagine it being cold, dark, and small. Then consider the only light you get is
when someone comes in here to beat you at least once a day, but sometimes twice
if they’re in the neighborhood.”

Violet backed up a foot, wanting to be further away from her
father. She didn’t know this man at all—he was not who she knew.

“Careful,” Alberto said when Violet’s back almost hit the
wall. “Don’t touch, it’s probably still wet.”

She didn't look over her shoulder, but did ask, “With
what?”

“Take a guess.”

“No.”

Alberto shrugged. “Your mind will do it for you. And
believe me, that is more than enough.”

It already had, but Violet refused to even go there. This
was just another one of her father’s games—a head game to mess with her mind,
and trick her into compliance.

She didn't want it to work but she wanted
out
of
this fucking building.

“I want to go home,” Violet said.

“Soon,” Alberto promised. He waved a hand high, gesturing
at the room, but maybe he meant the building. “I wanted you to see, Violet.”

“See what?”

“What I will do to Kazimir Markovic before I kill him,
should he ever put his hands on you again.”

With guards on either side of him, hands on their guns as
though they had to worry what Kaz’s next move would be, he was walked down the hallway,
bypassing a number of cells, where inmates were shouting, or otherwise asleep.
Though smaller and far younger than a number of the men that made up the block
he was housed in, no one bothered him.

While his name felt like a burden sometimes, this was not
one of them.

As they continued on, they didn’t stop at the first door to
the left where the large room was where the inmates were allowed visitation,
but kept going, finally stopping at another door where Kaz’s guard to the left
had to look up at the camera in the corner of the wall before a buzz could be
heard, and they were allowed inside.

Through there, and the corridor adjacent to it, Kaz’s
shackles were finally unlocked, giving him the chance to rotate his wrists,
after having the metal rubbing against them for so long. His guards stepped to
the side, but one said, “You got ten minutes,” before he gave the door opposite
him a push, and gestured for Kaz to walk outside.

Breathing in the fresh air, Kaz dug into the pocket of his
uniform for his cigarettes, plucking one from the pack then bringing it up to
his lips.

“Those things are going to kill you, Kazimir.”

He turned slightly, just enough that he could see Vasily
waiting for him, standing out of view of the cameras that lined the roof—or
maybe he had someone to shift the angle for the time being.

“Maybe so,” Kaz said with a shrug. “But it could be worse.”

Vasily’s brows lifted as he said, “Oh? How so?”

“You could be standing at my back.”

Kaz almost grinned as Vasily’s humor fled. He’d had enough
time in the thirty days he had already been locked inside to think on just how
he had ended up here. The right people could have been easily bought off in a
matter of days for a weapon’s charge.

And yet, nothing.

Kaz had no choice but to take the deal they offered,
knowing that because he already had a felony on his record, he could have been
facing a number of years behind bars, as opposed to just the six months he
ended up with.