Page 9 of My Hunger, Your Soul

Deciding to call it a night, I pack up my stuff and the plans I’m nearly finished with, and head back home. Maybe I should have a couple of beers and start unpacking. That is probably why I don't feel settled yet, as I don't have all of my things around me.Christ, I’m a whiny fucker.

I make my way into my apartment building out of the horrendous cold. Just as I walk through my front door, my cell phone rings. Looking down at the screen, I see my brother's name, Chase, light up, enveloping me with warmth as effective as a hug.

“Hey,” I say into the phone as I drop all of my bags onto the hall table and try the balancing act of removing my winter coat while holding the phone to my ear, balanced on my shoulder.

“Hey. Is this a bad time?” Chase says.

“No. I just got in from work, so it's perfect timing.”

“Work? Isn't it late over there?”

“I got a big contract so I’m working later than usual. Where are you, anyway? I thought you were in New Zealand?”

“No. We’re in the UK. I’m in bed, we’re just about to go to sleep as it's the middle of the night. Jet lag sucks.”

“Nice. How is traveling going? You and Noah okay?”

“Yeah. We’re great. Actually, there is a reason I’m calling. I’m returning to the States in a couple of weeks as Noah has got to attend a meeting in New York, so I was kinda hoping we could meet up?”

“Really? That's amazing. Yeah, I’d love that. You wanna stay here with me? I have an extra room, or is Noah wanting to keep you all to himself at a hotel?”

Noah is the oddest person I’ve met. He makes my brother happy, and really that's all that matters to me. He takes care of him. But he is freakishly possessive, and not in terms of basic jealousy, he literally does not like socializing with anyone. Including me. I sense he tolerates me for Chase, but it's pretty fucking obvious he’d be happy locked up in the middle of nowhere in a house with only Chase.

“Yeah, he’s booked a hotel. We’ll only be in the city for a few days. I’ll text you over the dates, and we’ll have to go out for dinner our first night there. It’s been too long, Ty. I’ve missed you.”

“I've missed you too, little brother. Go catch up on some sleep, and we’ll talk more when you get here. Love you.”

“Love you too. Night.”

The line goes dead, but my heart is fluttering with happiness that Chase is coming to visit. This is what I needed. Placing my phone into my pocket with a deep sigh, I stand in the middle of my living room and assess all the boxes that need unpacking. Rubbing my hand roughly over my face, exhaustion hits deep at the idea of even looking through one box. I’m tired. This project has taken up so much of my time, and now I’m at the end of the design phase, my body is ready to slump into hibernation. I’m meeting with Dima and Ivan at the end of the week, which I’m both dreading and excited about, as it means we are getting closer to the end. Once construction starts, I won't need to be as heavily engaged with the Kozlovs as I am right now. I need to stop obsessing over this. A hot shower and some food followed by my bed will right my brain.

Placing a food order on my phone, I jump into the shower and turn the setting to as hot as I can take, allowing the heat to loosen my muscles, sore from being hunched over my desk. I place both my hands on the shower tile and bow my head forward, letting the hot water cascade down my head, washing away every negative thought. Apart from one. Ivan. That man has been stuck in my head since I met him and I’ve no idea why he has gotten to me. Maybe it was his blatant behavior in trying to make me uncomfortable while also flirting. I can appreciate his attractiveness.

I’ve never fit into a box when it comes to my sexuality. Not that I’ve ever spoken out loud about it. I don't feel the need to, especially since it's been years since a man got my attention. Not that I’m saying Ivan got my attention. It's just that the way he touched me felt different, like a threat and pure desire rolled into one. The guy is so damn intense. His eyes never left me, and that constant look of amusement put me on edge. Squirming. I have a feeling the smiles were fake. You can tell by the eyes. Most people would miss it, but not me. After years of listening to my brother Chase, a therapist, I picked up a few things. Not that I’m qualified enough to be correct, but Ivan has a vibe that's hard to place. That house screamed power and evil. The same could be said about Ivan, but I’d maybe use the word unhinged. I must admit, he has intrigued me, but it's not a path I’m willing to investigate. I don't want to have any dealings outside of professional ones with that family. The very idea of it has me wanting to bolt out of the door back to California.

My mind flashes like a camera with images of Ivan, those brown eyes, the thick mane of black hair tied up into a bun, his square jaw covered in thick stubble. That tongue piercing. Hold on…what the fuck? I look down and notice my cock is on its way to being fully interested. No. No, no, no, absolutely fucking not. I quickly turn the shower faucet on cold, to blast myself back to reality, quickly taking my cock back to its normal ‘not getting any action’ state. I hop out of the shower to hear my door buzzer with my food order, and use this opportunity to zone out of sexy bodyguard thoughts and onto filling my stomach and resting my deluded, fucked up brain.

7

IVAN

My alarm blares, waking me from my dreamless slumber. Turning off the offending sound, I stretch my arms above my head, groaning at the pleasant feel of my limbs loosening. I sit on the edge of the bed, wearing only my boxers, and grab the hair tie on my nightstand to pull my thick mop of hair out of my face. This must be the thousandth time I've contemplated cutting it as it's more than annoying, but for some reason, I can’t go through with it. Stupid as it sounds, the idea of cutting my hair would be like shedding my life and all the secrets it held. Maybe it's nostalgia. I started to let my hair grow when I left here ten years ago. It was my fuck you to the world and a symbol of being free to be who I wanted to be. Thinking about it, maybe it's stubbornness. Or maybe I need to stop thinking about my fucking hair and get ready for the day, as today is gonna be a great one. Tyler will be back with the finalized plans for the build, and I can’t fucking wait. I wonder if he’ll fall for my charm. Or will I have to convince him with a little…force? Persuasion?

After a quick shower and beard maintenance, I dress in my black pants and black t-shirt, which cling to my body like a second skin. My full-sleeve tattoos look sharp, giving insight into the true Ivan and the dark soul that radiates off me when I let you get close enough. People are funny creatures. They only see what they want to see, not letting that undercurrent feeling of wariness and warning convince them otherwise. They ignore that gut feeling, which is so freakin dumb. Always go off instinct. That's who we are in nature, animals in the wild. Instead, they take my looks and golden retriever smile for real, which I’ve perfected since childhood, to give them this false idea that I’m an approachable softie. It’s all a mask. A costume. It has to be that way. How could you blend into society if you left all your demons out on display? That's why I came home. Dima and Lev are the same. It's our blood. The three of us were not meant to be your average person. We feed off pain and fear. Control and power, but cover it up in different ways. Hurting people is like being in a playground as a child, for me. It's fun and exciting, and it makes me feel alive. Inventing new ways to hurt people is my favorite hobby.

Believe it or not, after you’ve done our work for a while, it can get mundane using knives and guns—the standard torture shit. I get bored quickly if I don’t challenge myself. My most current weapon that I upgraded, which I used on Kai’s stupid friends, was a tattoo gun where I replaced the needle with a blade I designed and had custom made. I have some other new ideas, and I hope we get some action soon so I can try them out. Lev loves that shit too, and it's always more fun when you can share these things with others. Dima is a little different from us. He loves the blood, which I get, as the sight of the red liquid sliding down a victim's body is fucking erotic. But he isn’t keen on screaming, which you must listen to to get that result. I love the screams, the begging for their lives like it will make a difference, the quick shift from being the big man to a crying, snotty mess. Pain is part of life from when you are born. You come into the world screaming, it’s only fitting that you leave the same way. In most people's cases, anyway.

I leave my room on the other side of the mansion and make my way to the kitchen for a much-needed coffee to get my blood flowing for the day. As I enter the large space, I’m greeted by Seb and Kai, who are eating breakfast at the table.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” Seb says as he takes a sip of his own. I grab myself a cup and fill it to the top, ignoring the burn as I inhale the caffeine.

“How can you drink coffee like that?” Kai says, watching me as I finish the drink and fill my cup with another.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Doesn’t it burn? Do you even taste the coffee drinking that fast?”

“I’m not interested in the flavor. Only the effect.”

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