Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)

“Josh?

The apartment is eerily quiet.

“Rae? Caro?”

Amelia had a last-minute emergency come up so she couldn’t be here today for the evening shift. I’d called Ben while I was at work and begged him to take care of the kids. Sober. I stressed on that stipulation until he told me to “stop fucking nagging.”

Once he agreed, I spent the remaining two hours of my workday sweating through my green blouse.

I hate leaving Ben alone with the kids. But some days, it’s unavoidable.

“Guys?”

The moment I hear the pitter-patter of little feet, I breathe a sigh of relief. Then Caroline and Reagan round the corner at Mach 10, slamming into me like blond bullets. Their giggles are strangely muted, though, and when Reagan lets out a panicked little squeal when I try to tickle her under the arms, Caroline slaps a finger over her mouth and stares at her sister with wide, reproachful eyes.

I plop down on the arm of the sofa. “Guys, what’s wrong? Why are you being so quiet?”

“‘Cause Daddy’s sweeping,” Reagan whispers in her baby voice.

“Sleeping,” Caroline corrects haughtily. “Daddy’s sleeping and he told us that if we made any noise, he’d drag us into his room by our ears and beat our butts until they were black and blue.”

Reagan looks at me with her bottom lip sticking out. “I don’t want my bottom to be black and blue, Auntie Em!”

“He really said that to you?”

Both girls nod in unison. My lip curls up into a furious sneer. I’d like to beat their father until he’s black and blue.

“Where’s Josh?” I say instead in as controlled a tone as I can muster.

“He’s making dinner. We’re having pasta with cut-up sausages!” Reagan whoops. That earns her another glare from Caroline. Then the girls scurry into the kitchen, gesturing for me to follow them.

I find Josh at the stove, prepping the pasta. “Josh?” I ask as we approach. “You okay?”

The way his shoulders stiffen and the fact that it takes him a moment to turn around tells me that he’s very far from okay.

“Girls, why don’t you go wash up and get ready for dinner?” I suggest. The moment they’re gone, I walk over to Josh. “What happened?”

He’s not meeting my eye. He just keeps stirring the pasta unnecessarily. I clamp a hand down on his wrist, forcing him to stop.

“Josh, honey, talk to me.”

“Nothing happened. It’s just the same old shit as always.” As soon as the uncharacteristic curse flies out of his mouth, he flinches and his cheeks flood with red shame. “I-I’m sorry…”

As his face crumples, I grab him and pull him to me. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, little man.” I keep whispering softly to him. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He pushes back a little and frowns at me. “Do you really believe that?”

I take a deep breath and gesture for him to join me at the table. “I know things have been bad lately. Your dad’s just… in a dark place. He’s lost right now, but he does love you guys.”

Josh’s nose gets red, a sure fire sign that he’s fighting tears. “No, he doesn’t,” he snaps flatly. “If he really loved us, he wouldn’t threaten to beat us over every little thing.”

My jaw clenches. I could kill that asshole right now.

“I could take him, you know. If he tried.”

I stare at my eight-year-old nephew. His eyes are thin slits, his nostrils flared, his fists clenched and trembling at his sides. He looks like he’s ready for a fight.

“Josh—”

“Ruslan’s been teaching me what to do. I could protect the girls from him. I could protect you, too.”

I put my hands down on his quivering shoulders. “Sweetheart, I appreciate that; I do. But it’s not your job to protect me or the girls. It’s my job to protect you. Listen—”

Before I can finish my sentence, the girls rush into the kitchen, whisper-shouting that they’re hungry. Sighing, I stand and go to get them situated.

I fill their bowls with pasta before slipping out of the kitchen under the pretense of changing out of my work clothes. On the way, I detour into Ben’s room and find him lying face down on his bed, drool forming a dark stain around his mouth.

Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I grab a pillow that he’s kicked to the floor and whack him with it. He doesn’t so much as flinch, so I keep at it until he stirs.

He snorts awake all at once, his eyes flickering open. He nearly chokes on his own saliva as he struggles to right himself.

“Jesus,” I mutter. As always, he reeks of booze and bad decisions.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growl through gritted teeth. “Those children out there need you.”

His eyes focus on me and he frowns. “Sienna…”

I freeze. Is this a joke? If so, it’s crueler than I thought even he was capable of.

He blinks a couple of times and then lets out a loud burp that has me cringing a few steps backward. Judging from his breath and the way his eyes flicker erratically, he’s still wasted.

“Si…”

He’s screwing with me. This is some sick prank.

But Ben has never been that good an actor. He’s got this longing, desperate look on his face. His bloodshot eyes swing wildly over my body as he stumbles closer to me.

“Si… I’m so fucking sorry… I forgot your b-birthday…”

“Ben,” I say firmly. “It’s me. Emma. I’m not Sienna.”

He frowns, hiccupping as he reaches for me. “I’ve missed you so much, baby…”

He tries to touch me but I recoil from him. “Ben! I’m Emma. Snap out of it. Are you so far gone that you can’t even tell—?”

I gasp when he grabs my arm and reels me against him. For a guy who’s half-asleep and half-drunk, he’s got a surprisingly firm grip.

“Ben! Stop!”

I’m vaguely aware of the door swinging in on its hinges but I’m too worried about Ben’s wandering hands to pay much attention to it. At least not until Ben grunts with pain, his back arching. He stumbles to the side to reveal Josh standing there, his hands balled into fists.

Did Josh just punch his father?

“Fucking hell, you little bastard!” Ben hisses as he wakes up from whatever intoxicated hallucination he was caught in.

“You get the hell away from her!” Josh orders, glaring at his father with a fury that belongs on a much older man.

Ben shakes his head from side to side in stupefied disbelief. “You little shit! Did you just hit me?”

“You were scaring Aunt Emma!”

Ben’s eyes veer to me for only a second before they fall back on Josh. He’s wearing a venomous glare that doesn’t deserve to be aimed at any eight-year-old, let alone your own son. “I don’t care what the fuck I did; it’s not your place to—”

I step right between him and Josh. “Ben, stop it. You’re out of control. You have—”

He shoves me roughly out of the way and lunges at Josh. I trip and fall to the side, aware of Josh racing out the door from my peripheral vision. Ben chases after him and, for the first time since that orange pickup truck changed everything, I’m actually scared of what Ben is capable of.

I hit hard, cracking my head against the wood floor, but I’m back on my feet again as fast as I can manage it. I rush into the living room where Ben is circling the couch, trying to claw at Josh.

“Ben! Have you completely lost your mind? He’s a child! He’s your son!”

“Exactly!” he yells. “My fucking son. And he’s got to learn respect!”

Startled, the girls scream. I catch their terrified little faces peeking out from around the kitchen, pale as ghosts.

“Ben, I will call the police!” I yell right back.

He turns on me, hair mussed, eyes wild. I’ve never seen him look so unhinged. But despite that, all I feel is relief. At least his attention is on me now, not Josh. Let him beat me black and blue. As long as the kids are okay.

“What the fuck did you say?” he growls.

I square my shoulders. “You heard me. I will call the damn cops if you don’t settle down right now. You’re scaring the kids!”

He takes a menacing lurch towards me and that’s when I notice Josh dart out from behind the couch. I only have the time to gasp before his little fist connects with Ben’s ribs for the second time in as many minutes.

“Fuck!” Ben roars. “What the—” He whirls around, hand raised and before I can stop him, he grabs Josh by the front of his t-shirt.

“BEN! STOP!”

Caroline’s small voice cuts through the heat of my panic. “D-daddy! Please don’t…”

Ben acts as though he can’t hear any of us. He flings Josh against the coffee table. It’s not a violent throw, but Josh’s too-thin little body makes a dull thwacking sound as he careens into the furniture. He grunts low with pain and even that heartbreaking sound doesn’t seem to snap Ben out of his fugue state.

“You bastard!” I scream at his back while he storms out the door and slams it on his children’s tears.

I rush to Josh and pick him up off the floor. It’s not until I have him in my arms that I realize he’s not the one that’s shaking.

I am.

“Josh,” I gasp, cradling him like I used to when he was a toddler. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He clings to me, his chest heaving with silent sobs. All I can do is hold him. “It’s okay. Go ahead and cry. You deserve to cry as loud as you want for as long as you want.”

“J-Joshie…?”

I look up to find Caroline and Reagan still hiding behind the kitchen wall, tears streaking down their cheeks. I gesture for them to come over and they run to me, their heat engulfing me from both sides as we all huddle together.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’re gonna be okay, I promise. I’m gonna make sure we’re all okay…”

I thought having Ben around was important for the kids. I thought it was necessary. Despite all his shortcomings, I didn’t want them to lose their only living parent. But after tonight, I have to face the fact that having him around is doing them more harm than good. Maybe we’re all better off without him.

Which leaves me with only one path forward and, of course, it won’t be easy. My heart beats wildly, even as my resolve hardens.

From now on, I have to be their mother and their father.

I have to strip Ben of his parental rights.

I have to adopt these kids.

Once that’s sunk in, I hold onto the kids just as tightly as they’re holding onto me. And then—

I let myself cry, too.