Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles 6)

Eden kissed her customer one last time before he walked off, then her pleasant smile fell and she scowled at his back before she turned to the men at the bar with a seductive smile. She hadn’t noticed us.

“I need to go,” Dinara pressed out. “Now.”

She jerked to her feet, her eyes haunted. I stood, grabbed her hand and led her outside as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure if Eden saw us, and even if she did, would she even recognize Dinara?

Dinara was hyperventilating when I pushed her down into the passenger seat and squatted before her. I touched her thighs. “Hey. Look at me. I’m here. I can protect you.”

“I know,” she said between gasps and slowly her breathing calmed and her eyes really focused on my face. “But I need to protect myself. Instead I lose it as if I were still the little girl from back then. I should be strong but I’m not.” The despair in her voice and eyes cut me deeply.

“You are,” I said firmly. “But you have to give yourself time. You went from thinking your mother was dead to seeing her in flesh and blood. You need time to work things out.”

“Take me back to camp,” Dinara whispered. “I need to get out of Vegas. I need—” She shook her head. “Just take me away.”

I leaned in and kissed her before I closed the door and got in behind the steering wheel. For the first time since I’d known Dinara she looked like the frightened child she didn’t want to be perceived as. I could see her struggle to be strong, but the girl from the videos, a shadow from the past, lingered in her eyes.

Dinara was awfully quiet on our drive back to camp. I couldn’t forget the haunted look in her eyes when she’d seen her mother. By now, her expression was controlled and her eyes closed off. This was almost worse than before because I didn’t know what was really going on inside of her.

After I parked the car at the edge of camp, neither of us moved. “You’re not thinking about running back to Chicago for good, are you?”

I realized how much the idea of losing her upset me. I couldn’t let her go.

Dinara didn’t look at me, her gaze directed ahead. “No, I’m not. I won’t find what I need there.”

Dima stalked in our direction, as if he was on his way to execute me. My hunger for blood still called loudly to me, so part of me wanted him to try.

“Great,” I growled.

“Let me handle him. Stay back please.”

Dinara got out and I followed quickly despite her words. Even if I let her deal with him, I’d have her back.

Dima said something in Russian but Dinara ignored him. She walked past him without a word and headed toward her car. That was her way of handling him? I was about to follow her, not wanting her to be alone in the state she was in but Dima barred my way. “Where the fuck did you take her?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He grabbed my shoulder and I shoved him away, narrowing my eyes. He was starting to seriously piss me off with his disrespect. If it weren’t for Dinara, I might have given him a taste of my knife. Maybe that would have stilled the call for blood in my veins.

I had to get a fucking grip.

“You took her to Vegas, didn’t you? I told my Pakhan. He’s pissed at your brother.”

“I’m sure my brother will be heartbroken to hear it,” I said sarcastically.

Dima glowered and leaned closer. “The last time she looked this freaked out, she had a relapse and almost died. If something happens to her, I’ll kill you.”

I got into his face. “She’s mine, and I’ll make sure she’s safe, so fuck off.”

“You really think she can ever be yours?” Dima gave me a hard look before he headed after Dinara. I hated that he knew more about Dinara’s past than I did. I needed to find out more about her drug history. From my own experience, I knew the call for drugs was still loud in certain moments, and Dinara was pretty shaken right now.

I followed Dima with my eyes and stifled a sigh of relief when Dinara didn’t open the car where she had retreated into. Dima stormed off toward his own car, probably to contact Grigory again. Maybe I should ask Remo to send more guards for the races in case the Bratva decided to attack. Before I could decide to approach Dinara, her car drove off.

“Fuck,” I muttered. It cost me a lot of restraint not to follow her. She would be pissed if I acted like a stalker. I had to trust that she just needed some time to herself. There weren’t any places in our immediate surroundings where she could buy drugs, so she’d have to settle for cheap liquor if she wanted to blank out what happened.