Page 15 of Born into Madness
I watch as the man gently rests his hand on the woman’s arm, leaning down to say something before giving her a sappy grin. She smiles up at him and nods at whatever he’s said, and when he raises a hand to the bartender, I know it’s so he can order her a drink.
“People are fucking weird,” I say, and Pasha nods in agreement.
“Tell me about it. I sell drugs to them every night, and they still never cease to surprise me.”
I spend a couple more minutes with Pasha while he tells me about the extra security Niki is putting in, and then I get up to leave when I notice a couple of guys eyeing us from the corner. No doubt waiting for me to leave so they can buy what they need.
Chort stays by my side like the good dog he is, following me down the street until we get to where I parked. I’m driving my black Jeep Wrangler tonight, and when I open the passenger-side door, he immediately jumps up into the seat. He’s a great dog, but there’s no way in hell his giant ass is going to balance on the back of my bike. I always drive the Jeep when he’s with me. He loves the fucking thing, and as soon as I roll down the tinted window, he sticks his head out to feel the breeze.
Before I drive us home, I reach over and grab a dog bone from the glovebox. He takes it and then quickly puts his head back out the window so he can eat it while a nice breeze hits his face.
Later, after I’ve fed Chort his supper and we’ve trained with the dummies, I stroke his furry body while I try to fall asleep. I knew going into this that it would be a long cat-and-mousegame. Niki is brilliant, and I have no doubt he’ll get this fucker, but it’s not going to be fast, and it will definitely require patience.
My dreams are the usual mix of violence and blood, but at some point a redheaded woman slips into them, and it’s the last thing I remember before waking—coppery red hair, thick and long enough to fist. I never dream about women, but I know exactly who it is. The woman I’d seen last night, the one who’d fed my dog.
Chort’s loud snore pulls me from my thoughts, and when I start to get up, he opens an eye to look at me.
“You need to learn to not eat from strangers,” I tell him. “It’s not safe.”
He grunts before rolling over and closing his eyes again. While he sleeps, I take a shower and get us both breakfast. After spending time with him outside and working on a few more commands, I leave him to his nap while I take my bike and head back to campus. Instead of parking, I drive down Greek Row.
Large Greek letters cover most of the lawns on this street, but I have no idea what any of them mean. Thanks to the information Niki sent me earlier, I recognize the Alphas’ house when I pass it. Despite the obvious money involved here, the red brick mansion looks like it’s seen better days. There are a few discarded red solo cups littering the lawn that’s an inch or two too high, and weathered lawn chairs fill the porch that’s in desperate need of some paint. The oversized Greek letters are painted black and gold, and they’re more slanted than straight.
In contrast, the white-columned mansion across the street is pristine. Niki told me all about the Kappas, the sister house to the Alphas. Their lawn is perfectly manicured, and every window has a flower box with purple and white flowers growing in them. Their Greek letters are straight, the emerald green and gold colors vibrant like they were just painted yesterday. The classyoutside isn’t fooling me. I have no doubt they party just as hard as the Alphas. They’re just smart enough to keep it hidden.
Most everyone is already gone for the day, but there are a few stragglers still making their way over for an afternoon class. I park near the end of the street and pretend to look at my phone while three guys walk past me.
“Sweet fucking bike, man,” one of them says, and I nod my head at him, knowing they can’t see my face through the tinted visor. When he keeps eyeballing my motorcycle and his friends elbow him and say something that makes them all laugh, I decide this isn’t the best place to hang around. To prove my point, a few Kappas come out of their mansion, and it’s all blonde hair, tanned legs, and very short skirts. As soon as they see me, they stop short. One of them steps to the front of the group and gives me a feral look that has me putting my phone away and starting my engine. I know that look, and I’m not about to stick around just so I can tell her to fuck off. Girls like that really don’t appreciate being turned down, and dealing with some spoiled girl’s tantrum is the last fucking thing I want on my to-do list.
As I drive away, I see the pissed-off look she gets right before she schools her features into another big, fake smile. God, that must be tiring. I know firsthand how frustrating it is to have to wear a mask, and I’ll never understand why people choose to do it when they don’t have to. I really doubt she’d be outed as a psychopath if she dropped the façade. She might be seen for the self-centered, spoiled brat she is, but no one would think she was crazy.
Forgetting all about the girl as soon as I leave the side street, I drive around until I find a place to park and then make my way over to where Evgeny’s afternoon class is about to let out. Keeping to the shadows, I lean against the building and watch the students coming and going. I wonder what would’vehappened to me if I’d been born into a normal family. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, and I’m pretty convinced I’d be in jail. There was never a scenario where I ended up like the people in front of me. Not a single path would’ve led me to becoming a college student with normal interactions and a life that didn’t involve violence. I would’ve found an outlet on my own, and it wouldn’t have been a good one. My dad saved my life when he taught me how to live with what I am and when he showed me time and time again that he loved me, no matter the evil that lived inside me.
Glancing over, I grin when I see my cousin step out of the building. Despite the heat, he’s wearing a long-sleeved tee to hide the tattoos that decorate his skin and out him as a member of our Bratva. He’d hated having to change his last name, but there was no way he could keep Melnikov on paper and go on to become a lawyer. Every cop on the force knows our last name, and if Evgeny ever needed to defend one of us? Yeah, that’d go over real well.
Since our dads are all brothers by choice, they’d ditched their last names and used our Uncle Roman’s instead. At the time, his sister had been kidnapped by a sex-trafficking ring, so they knew they had to keep the Melnikov name in the spotlight in case she managed to escape and needed to find them. It had taken them two years to find her, and it had nearly destroyed them all, especially my Uncle Matvey. They’d been in love when she was taken, and from the stories I’ve heard, he became a ghost of a man until they found my Aunt Alina. Evgeny knows his parents’ story, and he knows enough details of what was done to his mom to leave a mark. I’m curious to see how he’ll use that anger when he becomes a lawyer.
So on paper Evgeny is no longer a Melnikov. He’d decided to take the last name his dad was born with—Nikitin. To us, though, he’ll always be a Melnikov.
When he looks up and sees me, a big grin spreads across his face. Not caring in the slightest that I look like the exact opposite of who a future lawyer should be talking to, he gives me a quick hug and smacks my shoulder.
“You shouldn’t act like you know me so well in front of everyone,” I tell him.
He scoffs and leans his shoulder against the building next to me. “Fuck them.”
“You need an impeccable record, Ev,” I remind him.
“And Niki will make sure I have one,” he reminds me.
I grin. “Fair enough. So what can you tell me about these Alpha douches?”
Evgeny nods his head toward the path I’d just come down. “They have one of the houses on Greek Row, and from what I hear it’s pretty much a party every night. They keep themselves in line as far as grades go, but from what I can see, they’re a bunch of assholes. I haven’t heard anything that raises any red flags, though.”
“We think they’re connected to the roofie situation we have happening at the club.”
“No shit?” Ev thinks for a second and says, “I heard someone mention there’s going to be a party this Friday. There’s always a party on Friday, but this one is going to be even bigger because the Kappas are helping to throw it. Apparently every guy on campus wants to fuck a Kappa, so I’m sure it’ll be huge. It’s possible they’ll be selling at their house.”
“That would be dangerous and stupid of them,” I say, thinking about the group of idiots who had passed my motorcycle, “so, yeah, you’re probably right.”
