Page 9 of Bound For You

I look him in the eyes, his are full of heartbreak. Fuck, he’s telling the truth. She left. Anger vibrates through me, and I wantnothing more than to punch his fucking face in, but because I love him like a brother, I turn and kick the gazebo. I breathe heavily as I place my hands on my hips. My blood family, my best friend, gone.

“Sergi?” Al speaks quietly, but I shake my head and turn to walk out the garden.

“Sergi!” Al shouts.

But I ignore him. She left, she didn’t contact me,me, her cousin, who’s been there for her for years. I know there’s only one reason she’d up and leave, even if he wants to act like he has no idea. She found out about him and Selene. If I don’t fucking leave, I’m going to kill him. I told him to stop fucking around on her, he said its only until they get married, she won’t find out, but he fucking lied. He’s run off my best friend, my family. I shake my head and get into my dark blue Chevrolet Corvette and spin out of the driveway. I see Al and his dad standing where my car was, watching me leave. I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt him.

I drive around for a few hours before I find myself near the office, Volkov & Co, where we all work and deal with magazine and social media outlets. It’s one of our legitimate businesses, unlike the strip club where we counterfeit money.

Damian’s the CEO, Al works in financing and is our CFO, and I was promoted to COO after I became Damian’s second. Becoming a Made Man was difficult, the tasks I had to complete were gruesome, full of torture and blood, but after losing Mama I needed an outlet, to feel somewhere where I belonged.

I pull up outside the Brew Box just down the road from the office, fed up with driving. I have a scowl permanently on my face, fucking pissed at Phoebe for leaving without even contacting me. I head inside. There’s barely anyone in here, but it is about seven in the evening.

I head to the counter where I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning, making me stop in my tracks.

Behind the counter is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She can’t be much older than twenty-three. Black hair that’d so dark it looks blue under the lights. It’s in a knot on the top of her head, like she hasn’t a care in the world. Her body is slim but with the right number of curves that make my mouth water. She has perky tits that are just more than a handful, her brown, long sleeved work top barely able to hide them. Her name tag says “Avery”, and when she looks up, and our eyes connect…. Damn, her eyes are so beautiful and full of innocence. They’re violet with a hint of blue. I know. I know in my gut, she’s mine. She’s bound for me.

five

Avery – Twenty-Three Years Old

I’m lostin my own head, wiping down the same bit of counter, over and over, Sergi on my mind. Thankfully its quiet.

He’s come in a few times since last week, and he spent most of Sunday morning sitting at the back table watching me. I don’t normally work Sundays, but they were short staffed, and now I’m glad I was here that day. Some people would say its creepy, but to me, he makes me feel safe, which is crazy considering I only know his first name.

Things haven’t been easy since my dad died. When I got to New York, I spent about two months living in my dad’s car, which I still drive around now, until I found someone willing to rent to a minor. It’s a small one-bedroom apartment in the bad part of midtown, but the rent is cheap and is paid in cash each month. It helped that I paid for three years straight up. I added a lot of bolts to the door, but it’ll do for now while I’m trying to save the money Dad left me as much as possible. As soon as I feel uncomfortable living there, I’ll move. It helps that I’ve been using the wages from this job to pay for most of my foodand utilities. I’ve been working here since I turned seventeen; staying at home alone made my mind reel, and I had to do something.

I managed to get my GED before I turned seventeen, and enrolled at the College of Boston. I managed to breeze through it quickly, taking the courses a lot quicker than the average person, managing to knock off two years, determined to get my degree ready for my residency which I have managed to secure at General, if I pass these last eleven months of Med-school at NYU School of Medicine. I need to make my parents proud; they may not have been my biological parents, but they were mine, and I miss them every day

My mind goes back to a week ago, when I first met Sergi.

I was working late and the only one in, nobody else had showed up in the last half an hour, and was I debating closing up and going home when he walked in with the biggest scowl on his face. I looked up as he came to a stop. I felt like my heart was in my throat. His blond hair was short on the sides and long on the top, but slicked back. He stood taller, like a foot taller that my 5’4”. His angry green eyes that were seeing right through me are now full of wonder. And his body, well he’s the first person I’ve met to make my body tingle all over. He had muscles that you could see under his black button-down shirt.

I clear my throat. “H-hello, what can I-I get f-for you,” I stutter, silently cursing myself for being a fumbling idiot.

He smirks, a dimple appearing on his right cheek, and I clear my throat again. “Coffee, black, please,dragotsennyy,” he says softly. I nod and turn to make his coffee, hoping I don’t mess it up. He’s Russian, I know that much, I recognize the language from some of the teens that live down the hall from me, but he sounds amazing speaking it. I don’t know what he called me, though.

I make his coffee without messing it up, and place it on the counter he’s now leaning on with both his hands flat, staring at me. I clear my throat again.

“That’ll be $1.20, please.” I don’t make any eye contact, but I can see his mouth. He smirks and places a $100 bill on the counter.

He murmurs, “Keep the change.” I furrow my brow and look at him again, this time making eye contact. I raise a brow at him, feeling sort of insulted and a little bit annoyed. He either thinks I look like I need the money or that I’m a gold digger. He tilts his head, assessing me, clearly wanting to see what I’d do. He’s flipping challenging me, huh? Two can play this game.

Nodding, I smile sweetly at him, before grabbing the bill and I ringing up his order, adding my tip in so the till balances out. I place my tip in my apron, and place his change in front of him.

“Your change, sir. That’s $97.80. Thank you for the dollar tip, it was very kind of you.”

He nods, then does the most beautiful thing, he grins, making his green eyes brighten. He picks up his change, then shoves it in the tip jar. I shake my head at the silly man as he chuckles.

I quickly remove the money, then place it in the charity collection can to help children without families.

He smiles gently at me and says “Sergi.”

I furrow my brows. “Huh?”

He smiles again. “My name’s Sergi.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment but he only chuckles. “I’ll be seeing you, Avery. Thanks for turning my bad day around.” Sending me a wink, he turns and walks out, leaving me standing here, mouth hanging open and my heart beating so fast, I fear it’ll tear out of my chest.

I’m brought out of my thoughts when said man enters the café. I smile wide and go behind the counter.