Page 38 of Bratva Hunter

The driver speaks to Arturo. “We’re going to be at Morristown Airport in ten minutes.”

“Excellent.”

Adrenaline spikes in my body as my mind races for how to get out of the car. If I get on that plane, I can’t get off until we land. “Is it a straight flight or will we stop for fuel?”

Arturo’s brow lifts. “Glad you’re accepting this. It will make it easier.” He smirks like a monkey in a zoo that’s just picked up a piece of fruit. “We’ll stop at Heathrow in London and refuel. It’s a long trip, nearly fifteen hours, so you’ll want to rest.”

Can I get away when we stop in London? “I don’t have my passport.”

“You don’t need it. You won’t leave the plane.”

The driver brings the SUV to a stop next to the private airport parking. There’s three other cartel vehicles waiting for us. He gets out of his door and walks to the back driver’s door and pulls it open. “Get out.”

Arturo chuckles as he walks to the back of the SUV when one of his other soldiers is holding his luggage. “Don’t hit her face.”

I extend my legs out of the back seat as the driver grabs and jerks my arm. “Hey.”

His hand swings and catches me in the side of the head. Stars fill my sight as I stumble to stand.

“Damn it.” My uncle growls. “Not her face.”

“Sorry, Jefe.”

‘Jefe.’ Arturo gets a kick out of everyone calling him boss. He’d be upset if he knew men use the term ‘boss’ with everyone, like bud or bro. Assholes. I raise my head as six large, black SUVs speed into the airport. Arturo grabs me and propels me into the closest hangar. “You should stay close. Our enemies have found us.”

“Who found you?”

He pushes me through a door into an office and takes out his phone. He barks orders in Spanish as I move to the window to peer out. Rory’s family has arrived. “Why are the Bravikovs here?”

He flips his hand to me like you’d do to a buzzing fly. The window shows me more than a dozen men surrounding the hangar. Arturo’s phone rings.

“Hello? No. Because she belongs to me. Married. You’re telling me your son married this slut?” He lowers the phone and asks. “Are you married?”

“Yes.” Make it convincing. If Rory is saying we’re married. Go with it. “He married me.”

“Fuck.” He puts his phone back to his mouth. “I’ve already sold her.” He walks around me to glance outside. “Tell your men to stand down.”

Cartel soldiers take positions to hold off Rory’s group. Movement catches my eye. Rory and two other men come around the corner of the hangar. Rory’s hand flashes a blade that slices through the soldier’s throat. Blood squirts and hits the wall. The man crumples to the ground. Methodically the three men cut through the dozen cartel soldiers to come around the other part of the building, closest to the door.

“Call off your men, Mikhail.”

Who’s Mikhail? Is he the pakhan? My father talked about a ruthless pakhan. Could that be Rory’s father? More questions than answers swirl around my mind. Why is Rory here?

Someone throws open the door, as the driver of Arturo’s SUV flies in to grab me, placing a gun to my head. Rory enters the office with two men that look very similar. “Let her go and I’ll let you live.”

“Ha. So, you’re the assassin?”

Why does everyone keep calling him that?

Rory winks at me. “I’ll kill you and your boss if you don’t drop the gun and let her go. I don’t want you or him.” His eyes flick to Arturo. “She’s my wife, and you aren’t taking her.”

Arturo purses his lips. “Pay me ten million for her.”

“I’m not paying you anything. She’s mine.” He barrels at me and the man holding me as another man grabs Arturo. The blade presses against my neck as liquid runs down, wetting my shirt. Rory’s hand knocks away the knife as his other hand moves quickly across the driver’s throat. Warm liquid covers my head and back.

“Roric. Fuck man. She’s covered in blood.” One of the other men announces with disgust.

Rory grabs me from the floor and carries me out of the office. The kind doctor approaches as I realize Rory is yelling with panic in his voice. “Help her.”

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