Taming Val Read online

  A soft gasp left her lips at the sound of rustling coming from her living room, and for a moment, her heart was beating at twice it’s speed. Then she realized it must have been Gary. He was prone to make pit-stops at her place once he got off work.

  She hurried into her living area, still holding the towel to her wet body. “Gary, I was just taking a shower. I’ll be out in a min…” Her words slowed to a complete stop when she realized it wasn’t Gary in her living room, but instead, the last person she’d ever expect.

  His deep set eyes were the lightest brown. They had a discerning air, as if he could see all of her darkest secrets with one quick glance while she, on the other hand, could never dream of seeing his. Those keen eyes of his went even sharper at the sight of her, making them gleam with an almost golden shimmer as they fell to her naked thighs. His full, pink lips hardened into a straight line, and he stood tall from where he’d been rustling around the coffee table in her living room. From a distance, his dark brown hair was almost black, and he wore it slicked back, letting his strong features take center stage. He looked like a movie star. Just having his eyes on her made her feel like she was an actress who’d forgotten all her lines. He made her feel like a total idiot without even having said a word.

  Val swallowed at the sight of her wet, bare thighs, and seemed entranced by them before finding the will to meet her eyes.

  Zoey instantly responded to his probing gaze, adjusting her towel so that it covered the front of her body completely. She locked her arms against her sides and clutched the towel at her neck, ensuring it wouldn’t fall.

  “Val, what are you doing here?” She danced from one foot to the other. Something in the back of her mind told her to stop, but she couldn’t. She needed to be in motion right now. It was the only way she knew how to keep her mind off of the storm that had commenced inside of her.

  He cleared his throat, and became entranced by the purple curtains that hung down from her living room window.

  She was grateful when he broke eye contact, because it made her instantly more comfortable. Val looking her in the eye was rare, something she wasn’t used to. Since they were kids, he’d perfected the art of avoiding her in every possible way.

  “Sorry about the nakedness… I thought you were Gary. I don’t usually traipse around in just a towel.” It suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time they’d been alone together in years. She hated the strange wave of excitement that gave her.

  “No, I’m sorry.” His eyes met hers once more, and his lungs squeezed shut. “My watch fell off in here earlier today.” He played a set of keys between his fingers. “Gary gave me his keys. I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

  “Still?”

  “Well… you were hiding from us earlier, weren’t you?”

  “No,” she immediately denied. “I wasn’t.”

  Val smirked and rose up the hand that held Gary’s keys. From the distance, she could see the wristband of his Rolex hanging down, as well. “I got the watch, so…” He motioned to the door, and began making his way towards it without a word.

  The moment Val’s back was turned to her, he breathed in a deep, trembling breath. It had been a mistake to come here. He found himself regretting not taking Gary up on his offer to pick up the watch for him. The urge to run for the door almost ate him alive, but he managed to keep what he felt was a cool, non-psychotic pace towards the only exit. Towards safety. Any place where she wasn’t.

  “Wait.” Zoey came up to her toes as she saw him making his way to the door. He hesitated with his back still turned, and she wondered if he was going to leave without responding. When he turned to her, meeting her eyes once more before letting them fall back to her thighs, she stumbled. “I wasn’t hiding. How could I? I wasn’t here.” She immediately jammed her mouth shut. She’d always been a terrible liar.

  He shook his head, looking just as unimpressed by her lying abilities as she was. “Fine, Zo. You weren’t here.” He went to move to the door.

  She jumped in. “I actually just finished up the proof for the new ad. I could get dressed and show it to you.”

  Val wasn’t blind to the hope in her eyes. It was about the millionth olive branch she’d extended to him since the moment they’d met, and it would be the millionth one that he spat on. “Email it to me.”

  “Right.” Zoey’s eyes immediately fell to the floor. “I almost forgot,” she said, just as he put his hand on the door handle. “I almost forgot that you can’t stand to be around me.”

  Val shook his head, his eyes falling to the wood floors. He chuckled softly.

  “Val, I’m sorry if this is awkward, but… I’m getting a little tired of this.” She drummed up all of her nerve, and stepped into her living room. She didn’t miss the way her movements caused him to freeze from where he still held her door handle in his hand. “I’m getting really tired of you freezing me out for no good reason.”

  His eyes finally rose to hers. “And I’m getting a little tired of you trying to force this.”

  “Force what?”

  “Zo, I’m not your brother.” His eyes went cold. “And neither is Roman, and neither is Leo, and believe it or not, neither is Gary. I’m not obligated to have a relationship with you, so please stop. Stop trying to force it.”

  “Excuse the hell out of me for trying to get to know you. For a minute I forgot who I was talking to.”

  “Always happy to remind you.”

  Zoey came undone. “Why do you do this, Val? What the hell did I do to you to make you hate me this much?” When he didn’t answer, she stepped up to her foyer, sure to keep a safe distance. “I haven’t forgotten, you know. About those nights… Those nights in my room…”

  Val didn’t look at her, opting instead to focus on something over her shoulder. His eyes suddenly shut, and he shook his head.

  “Sometimes I wonder if I made them up in my mind…” Zoey suddenly pulled her towel tighter around her body, hating that she was saying anything, at all. She just couldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure what had shifted within her seeing Val in her living room, but something definitely had, and now she was spewing a lot of words she was sure she’d hate herself for spewing later. It was the first time she’d ever brought up those nights in her room to Val. It had her feeling on the verge of collapse and swimming with relief all at once. “Val, you guys are the only family I have. I would die for you guys. Yes, even you.” She rolled her eyes when it occurred to her that she was now having a full on conversation with herself. His lack of response was making her ramble. “I don’t think it’s unfair to want to get to know a guy I would die for.”

  Val’s eyes gleamed with defiance, and he continued to look right through her, passed her, as if she weren’t there, at all.

  “Email me the proofs,” he said, pulling the door open.

  And, just like that, he was gone.

  Two

  The Romanovsky House

  10 years ago

  Zoey stood in the middle of a room that wasn’t hers. The white lacy nightgown fell almost to her knees. It was a loaner from Bette, since most of Zoey’s clothes were still sitting in a FedEx truck in Philadelphia. As the wind from the open window blew the delicate silk fabric against her legs, contrasting beautifully with her dark skin tone, she was sure that the gown looked much sexier on Bette than it ever would on her. As she thought of the towering woman, who had opened her home without question, Zoey couldn’t help the tiniest smile.

  And, as it often did those days, the smile instantly vanished, quickly wiped away by the cool air breezing in and out of the room. Her bones shook as she fought tears, crossing the room to the bed, and crawling under the covers, just as the pain she’d been managing to fight all day bubbled up from inside of her, and spilled out of her eyes. She sobbed as she thought of her parents, brutally murdered in the street. Like animals. No suspects. She hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye. She was sure that the last conversation she’d had with her father had
been an argument, but she couldn’t recall.

  She was too taken by the pain.

  The sheets and comforter on the twin bed smelled like Roman, who she was sure hated her guts for having been forced out of his room to make space for her. As she thought about meeting him for the first time earlier, his unsure smile, the kind warmth of his blue eyes, and the even warmer hug he’d given her, she was thankful that, if he was angry about her uprooting him from his room, he hadn’t shown it. Not in the least.

  Her sobs picked up as she took in the sports memorabilia, photos of friends and family, laundry basket full of clothes, and random knickknacks scattered about. It hit her, again, as it had many times that day. This wasn’t her home. It never would be.

  The sound of the door creaking open stole a gasp from her, and she pushed her body back against the headboard in the darkness, pulling her knees to her chest just as a head peeked around the open door.

  She squinted at the face, but it was too dark to see. She’d only just met everyone a few hours before. It wasn’t Roman, he was blonde. It couldn’t have been Gary, his hair was longer.

  Leo?

  The peeking head stepped quietly into the bedroom, and eased it shut behind him.

  No.

  Val.

  When had she started crying, again? She covered her face with her hands, sure she must have looked horrible as he crossed the room, wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. It was the middle of the night. What was he doing here?

  The bed tilted, and she took her head out of her hands just as he placed a hand on her trembling shoulder. Their eyes met, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

  The silence, the unsure smiles, the awkward hugs. She felt like an eggshell that no one wanted to be the first to break. They all knew she would break eventually, and none of them wanted to be the catalyst, so she’d managed to hold it together until she was alone.

  They didn’t understand. Not really. How could they? They hadn’t experienced a pain like the pain she was experiencing. They knew of her, but they didn’t know her. They didn’t know how to talk to her.

  Just like Val didn’t know how to talk to her now. So he didn’t. He didn’t talk.

  She let him see her, tears staining her face, eyes beet red, she let him tug her arm and pull her to him.

  She crumbled into tears on his shoulder, and he let her.

  He held her. The pain didn’t stop, not until she fell unknowingly into a deep sleep in his arms.

  Zoey flew forward in her bed with a gasp, clutching her sweaty forehead in dismay. As the weight of her dream hit her, she groaned from the deepest part of her, and turned to her nightstand where her clock taunted her with the brightly lit numbers. In her sleepy delirium, she could almost hear that clock provoking her.

  That’s right bitch, it’s 3:45am.

  It was nights like these that Zoey was thankful she was a freelance graphic designer, and had the luxury of falling in and out of consciousness as she pleased, because there was no way she was getting back to bed anytime soon. Not after that dream.

  Unlike those quiet nights in Roman’s bed back in high school, Val wasn’t there to hold her until she fell asleep.

  He wasn’t there, at all.

  ***

  That afternoon, when Gary and Roman knocked on her door, Zoey was ready for them. Her apartment was empty. No Reggie Kings or other sworn enemies to hide away in her closet today.

  Opening the door, she was met with blinding smiles that reached across the door’s threshold like a virus, claiming her, and stealing a smile from her, as well. They both looked tall, pressed, and expensive. They always did, especially on weekdays, when they spent most of their time keeping the Novsky offices afloat in lower Manhattan—where they all worked and lived.

  All except her.

  “Gar-Bear!” she sang, when Gary launched through the door and lifted her clear off the floor with an animalistic growl, as if she were the heaviest thing in the world. At 5’2, she was literally a foot shorter than him, and about a hundred pounds lighter.

  When he set her on her feet, she pulled away and ruffled his hair, which he kept purposely untamed and bedhead-y. She caught a quick glimpse of his playful green eyes just as Roman’s arms came around her waist in an unexpected hug, stealing her attention. Roman always moved silently, so most of his hugs took her by surprise.

  “Oh hey, Prince Charming,” she said, not missing the look of disapproval that immediately crossed Roman’s face. He didn’t bother telling her how much he hated being called that, because she already knew.

  Zoey nudged him playfully, while taking in his slicked back blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. She knew he hated that nickname, but with a face like his, how could she help herself? It wasn’t just his looks, either. Even inside, all the way down to his beautiful soul, Roman was a prince. He was the only blonde in the family, and the only one with blue eyes, as well. His skin was milky white, a stark contrast to the rest of the Romanovsky brothers, who’d been blessed with a beautiful olive tone, making their skin look perpetually tan, even in the freezing winter months.

  No one had figured out how Roman’s blond hair had popped up in a family who’d spawned ten generations of straight brunettes. He had gentle features, as well, and would’ve bordered on pretty if the 5-oclock-shadow racing down his jaw wasn’t there to calm it all down. He was just as tall as Gary, but much wider.

  “It’s nice to know you guys can still make time for your dear sister.”

  Gary’s green eyes went instantly critical as they scanned her loft apartment. “Why are you honestly still living in this tiny apartment in Brooklyn, Zoey?” He said the word Brooklyn like a normal person would say the words herpes, gonorrhea, or HPV. Like most young, entitled rich boys, Brooklyn was still a bad word in Gary Romanovsky’s vocabulary, even if it was only a ten-minute drive from his penthouse in Tribeca. Even as she shot him a dead, blank expression, Gary went on. “Will you let us get you something bigger already? In the city? Please? This is truly ridiculous.” He pointed his thumb behind him. “You don’t even have a doorman. Anyone can just waltz in off the streets of this drug haven whenever they please.”

  “Gary, this neighborhood hasn’t been a drug haven since the 60s. They call it Williamsburg now, and I have a $2500 rent payment that proves it’s anything but a drug haven. I’d say I’m doing pretty well for myself. In fact, if they take my rent up any higher, I’m packing all my shit and hauling ass to Queens—oh I’ll do it!” she insisted, when his face went even darker with revulsion than it already was.

  “Queens? I’m sorry, I don’t know that word.” Gary gave her his own blank expression while shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “You’re such a snob, Gar. How quickly you forget that you used to be a scabby little Jersey boy yourself.” Some days she was convinced Gary really had forgotten that he’d been born and raised in Jersey City. “I could get a really nice little row house in Queens, for dirt cheap. I’ve actually been thinking of showing a couple of them to Leo, since he's the only Romanovsky who seems to remember that he’s from Jersey.”

  “Leo would throw up all over you if you even said the word Queens to him.”

  “They have the cutest little neighborhoods… Astoria, Jackson Heights, Kew Gardens is seriously precious.”

  “What the fuck?” Gary muttered his three favorite words, unable to think of anything else.

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “You know, Tony always tells me how proud he is of me for making my own way.”

  Tony Romanovsky was the man who’d taken her in ten years ago. He’d just retired from his position as Chief of Police after fifty years of service, so it went without saying that he was a man who knew the value of a hard earned dollar. He’d made good money in his years as a police chief in the largest precinct in Jersey, but having a stay at home wife and four sons to feed ensured that money went away just as quickly as it came. Regardless, he’d found a way to make it work. He’d even found a
way to spend a few of his hard-earned pennies on Zoey, a girl who wasn’t even his flesh and blood. It said everything about Tony, and who he was as a man. She wanted to be just like him, the best version of herself. She owed Tony Romanovsky and his wife, Bette Romanovsky, at least that. In fact, she owed them her entire life.

  Tony and her father, Marcus Black, had been thick as thieves since they were babies. Even after they’d both grown up, moved to vastly different cities, went to work in vastly different fields, and soon, fell into vastly different tax brackets, they’d still remained best friends. Philadelphia wasn’t far from Jersey, but her father’s work kept him busy enough that he went almost ten years without seeing Tony face-to-face. Finally, after planning a long awaited reunion, her parents took an entire weekend to make the drive to Jersey City, leaving Zoey behind in Philly.

  She’d thrown a party while they were gone, and had been trashed out of her mind when she’d gotten the phone call from Tony, a man she’d heard many stories about. A man who’d known her when she was a baby, but who she herself could hardly remember.

  Chills still raced down her spine when she thought of that phone-call. She could still hear Tony’s voice like it was yesterday.

  “They’re gone, Zoey. I’m so sorry, they’re gone.”

  Her parents had been on their way back home, crossing the street to their car, when they’d been killed in a hit and run accident. Accident. People liked to call it a hit and run accident, but Zoey knew better. An accident was when you bumped into a stranger on the street, or walked out of a department store with a sweater you’d forgotten was in your hand. Her parent’s death hadn’t been an accident. It had been murder. Cold blooded murder, of the worst kind.

  Sure, they’d been jaywalking, and sure, they’d both had alcohol in their system. Those facts did nothing to ease the fury that ran through Zoey’s body whenever she thought about a speeding car coming out of nowhere, taking them both out, and then driving away. Driving away. How could a person do that? How was it possible that a person capable of that… existed? It still boggled Zoey’s mind. Her parent’s killer had never been found, and that boggled her mind even more.