Page 7 of Born into Mayhem
“Or anyone with a pulse,” our other cousin, Evgeny, jokes as theelevator doors open and we all step in while our parents wait for the next one.
“Just like his owner,” Damien teases.
My brother takes it all in stride. He knows he’s a bit fucked in the head. His brain doesn’t work like everyone else’s, but he’s learned to live with it, thanks to our dad. He must’ve noticed something when Sasha was young, because for as long as I can remember, rules have been drilled into my brother’s head. I won’t go so far as to say that he knows right from wrong, but he does know what’s allowed and what isn’t, and that’s good enough for me.
When we step off the elevator, I see the bodyguards waiting near the parking garage. They’ve been a constant my entire life. Our dads run the Melnikov Bratva, and as soon as the guys in our family turn eighteen, they all join. Niki was the last one. His birthday was last month. He’s already joined, and the new tattoo on his forearm marks him as an official member. I turned eighteen six months ago, and I’m still waiting for that particular invite. They keep telling me it’s not safe, but I’m committed to proving them wrong.
After our parents join us, we say our goodbyes while I hang back with Sasha and our parents. Natalya and Dominic already left with their kids, so it’s just us when my dad asks, “What are you two up to tonight?”
“Mia’s going to help me with Chort,” Sasha says, giving the half-truth we’d agreed on earlier. My dad’s blue eyes run over us, the same shade as my brother’s, and I can tell he’s trying to decide whether or not to believe us. In the end, he knows there’s no safer place I could be than with my brother, so he just gives us a hug and says, “Keep her safe, Sasha.”
“You know I will,” my brother says.
“I know. I still have to say it, though,” our dad says before turning his attention to me. The tattoos that cover him, along with the pierced brow and lip, definitely explain where I got my rebellious streak and love of body art from. “Listen to your brother,” he tells me.
“I always do,” I say, and then return our mom’s hug.
When she pulls back, she says, “Be careful. If you stay over at Sasha’s, text us so we know, okay?”
“I will,” I promise her and then grin when Sasha hands me my helmet. It’s dark with a pink-and-black Chinese dragon on the back of it, looking very similar to the dragon that’s tattooed on my spine.
Sasha’s has a Grim Reaper on the back of his helmet, just like the one that’s tattooed on his arm. Our cousin Svetlana designed it, and it’s become the symbol of the Bratva. That image alone is enough to spark fear in anyone who knows anything about the underground workings of this city.
We wave bye to our parents and then walk over to his Yamaha MT-10. I love my brother’s bike, but at only five-one, there’s no way in hell I could ever manage it. After he’s on, I climb on the back, settling my black boots onto the foot pegs before hooking my fingers under the seat. I’m not about to wrap my arms around my brother and hold on for dear life. First, gross, and second, I love the adrenaline rush I get when he’s speeding through traffic and I feel like there’s nothing between me and the world. It’s liberating and freeing in the best way possible, and as soon as I can, I’m getting my own bike.
The loud rumble of his engine fills the parking garage, and I’m smiling like a crazy woman behind my helmet’s tinted visor when he revs the engine and we go peeling out onto the street. Sasha knows how to handle his bike, but he has no regard for traffic laws, so I’m not at all surprised when he cuts around a parked car and then runs the red light. Niki swears it’s a full-time job scrubbing all the CCTV footage and wiping away all evidence of Sasha’s constant refusal to obey the laws.
We pass a busy nightclub, and all the women in line turn at the sound of my brother’s loud bike, and they all stare as we drive by. It doesn’t matter that I’m on the back, and it doesn’t matter that they can’t see his face. They sense something dangerous in him, and they want more. Women are always staring at him, but he never notices it. When I point it out, it seems to annoy him more than anything. They’re all giving him serious fuck-me eyes, so when we fly by, I flip them off and then laugh at the pissed-off looks I get. The bike’s engine is tooloud for Sasha to hear my laughter, but he saw what I did, and when he throws his hand back, I give it a quick high-five and laugh again.
Speeding up even faster, it doesn’t take long at all before we’re pulling into the parking lot of my favorite place in the city. Benny’s doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it’s the perfect example of not judging a book by its cover, because inside this derelict-looking building is the city’s best kept secret—a gem of a tattoo and piercing studio.
Our parents were cool about letting me get my ears and nose pierced, and when I turned eighteen, my dad brought me here to get my first tattoo, but some of the things I want done, I don’t want my dad to know about, so Sasha hooks me up with special visits. That tattoo on my birthday wasn’t the only thing I had done. Later that night, Sasha snuck me over here and I got my nipples pierced. It had hurt like a bitch, but every time I see the cute little barbells, I know it was worth it. They’ve finally healed, and tonight I’m here for something even crazier.
Everyone assumes my brother should be the one loaded with piercings, but he’s never been into them. Tattoos, yes, and he has a ton of ink to prove it, but as far as I know, he doesn’t have any metal in him.
The bell dings when we step inside, and as soon as Benny sees us, his big bearded face spreads into a grin. “Back for more, Mia?”
I return his smile and say, “You know I can’t stay away for long.”
“True enough. I knew you were going to be a customer for life the first time your dad brought you in here. I could see it in your eyes.”
Benny is a giant bear of a man, but he’s much more of a teddy bear than a ferocious grizzly. He warmed up to me immediately, but he’s a little more cautious around Sasha. My brother wears his mask in front of Benny, though, which means he hides the darker bits and puts on a smiling face. It might not be a huge smile, but it’s more than anyone outside the family ever gets.
Benny gets up and walks around the counter to meet us. “So what are we doing today? Another tattoo or a piercing?”
I grin. “A piercing. Is Molly here?”
“Uh-oh,” he says. “I think I know where this is going.”
I smile even bigger. “Blame it on your wife. She’s the one who told me about it when you pierced my nipples.”
He laughs and then yells Molly’s name. As soon as I see her cherry-red hair, I run over and give her a hug. Having to expose yourself for a piercing is odd and embarrassing and makes you feel completely vulnerable, but Molly is amazing. She’d cracked jokes and helped her husband while he did the piercings, and I know she made things easier, not just for me, but for Benny as well. The man is my dad’s age, and he doesn’t know it, but he’s the only guy to ever see me topless, and now he’s about to see a whole lot more.
“You going for the VCH piercing?” She beams at me when I nod my head and then laughs. “Sweetheart, you’re going to love it. It changed my life when I got one.”
“I thought I did that,” Benny says, giving her a playful wink.
Molly smiles at her husband. “You did, baby, but that clit piercing you gave me sure helped a ton.”
