Fractured Ties by Bethany-Kris Page 0,57
the shiver that raced across her skin at his touch. That knot in her brow hadn’t disappeared either.
“Wait, I’m getting the stars?”
“They’ll match mine,” he murmured, a smile spreading his lips. “And you like mine, don’t you?”
Maya’s gaze drifted down to his chest, and then back up to his face just as quickly. “I like all your tattoos, actually.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
She frowned. “Don’t say that.”
Kolya shrugged. “Enough about me—this is about you.”
“Yes, and putting a permanent mark on my body.”
“You need them,” he admitted. “They’ll protect you more than a man with a gun in some situations, no? They’re important.”
Maya quieted for a long while before she asked, “You think so?”
“Know so, my girl.”
She scrunched her nose up. “Is this like … a property thing? A brand?”
Kolya’s jaw clenched so hard that he heard his teeth crunch from the action. Maya didn’t miss it, if her flinch was any indication. She was quick to spin around, and her hand came up to press soft fingertips into his cheek.
He was here for her.
He was trying to reassure her.
And there she was, turning the tables on him.
Funny how that worked.
“Is that what it is?” she asked. “A brand?”
Kolya had to force his jaw to unlock so he could speak. “Not in this context. It’s more important, and it has more meaning. They’ll match my stars—they’ll be specific to me.”
“So it means—”
“You’re mine.”
And given who he was—a Boykov, and not just any Boykov, the Boykov heir—those stars would make Maya untouchable in most cases. Sure, there were those who wouldn’t respect the mark, but that would likely be out of ignorance. Anyone who knew what would happen to a person who messed with someone who was marked … well, it was far from pleasant.
To say the least.
Maya’s gaze jumped back up to his in an instant. “You don’t seem bothered to say that at all—like it’s second nature to you or something.”
He knew exactly what she meant.
“You feel like mine. Why wouldn’t you be?”
It seemed simple enough to him.
Kolya was a very black-and-white kind of person. He may have lived his life in shades of gray—on the edges of what society saw as wrong—but he wasn’t that complex. Things either were or they were not to him. He felt something or he didn’t.
He wasn’t about to color it up with bullshit.
Maya sighed. “Like that.”
Kolya smiled faintly. “You did say this morning that I could do whatever I needed to keep you safe.”
“That wasn’t exactly—”
“That’s how I took it.”
Maya rolled her pretty blue eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
“It’ll be two very small stars—it’ll barely hurt at all, no?”
“Lies.”
Kolya chuckled. “Scout’s honor, Maya.”
“And you’re not even close to a scout, thank you.”
“But you’ll do this for me, won’t you?”
She gave him a look. “I will because you asked me to.”
Kolya nodded. “That’s my girl.”
He didn’t miss the way she smiled at that, either, even if she did try to hide it by spinning around to show him her back.
“What is that doing in here?”
Oh, good.
His sister had finally come out from the backrooms.
A person couldn’t miss Viktoria Boykov, what with her platinum blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and delicate features that, Kolya thought, reminded him a great deal of their dead mother. Vik was tall, but not willowy, considering she dressed in such a way that reminded every man around her that she was very much a woman who enjoyed being looked at. Sometimes, it made Kolya want to hurt people … but again, none of his business. He stayed out of it.
Or tried.
She had started drawing shortly after their mother died. Her childlike scribblings turned into real art, and then drawing eventually turned into tattooing. Although, one wouldn’t look at Vik and think, tattooist. She didn’t have visible ink—but for the cursive B on her index finger for Boykov—and Kolya wasn’t all that interested in asking if she had ink where someone couldn’t see.
Vik knew she had a fucking attitude, too, and was quick to use it whenever someone thought pointing it out might shame her into toning it down. It never did—she just got worse.
She’d smile if someone called her a bitch—proud as fuck. And then gut them with words right after.
Currently, she was standing next to the counter with the cash register sitting on top, and glaring at Sumerki who was behaving in his spot next to Maya.
“It’s my dog,” Kolya said. “He is not a that, Vik. Since when do you work in a shop?”
“A friend needed an extra hand.