Page 33 of Under Control

Then it got worse.

The door opened—and they were no longer alone.

Chapter Thirteen

Carrick

“What the fuck is going on here?” Andriy’s voice echoed through the small space as his gaze snapped back and forth between Carrick and Danica.

Carrick crossed his arms, leaning back, tall and strong, as Andriy became visible in the ambient light permeating from the hallway. Watching the lean Slavic man, Carrick kept his mouth shut, breathing fire as he watched Andriy step into the space.

“What did he do to you?” Andriy asked her.

“Nothing.” She flinched, shifting away—and the man’s face twisted in vengeance.

Andriyknewwhat had happened. Any man would have.

Carrick stepped forward, putting his hand out between them.

“Give her some space.”

“We don’t require yourservicesanymore.” Andriy scowled as he turned to Carrick, a threat in his voice.

“Oh, I think you still do.”

“Leave.”

“Not a chance.”

Andriy stepped closer to Danica, and Carrick searched her for a response. Her eyes were wide, and she was out of breath and swallowing anxiously. She was frozen—in the same way she had been at the cocktail table. Andriy reached out to pull her toward him.

“Get your hands off her,” Carrick roared, landing a hand on the collar of Andriy’s purple suit and pulling him back.

A deep, vicious growl rose in Carrick’s throat. Every muscle in his body caught on fire, and it took everything in his being not to take the Russian’s life. Andriy pushed back on Carrick, but only sent himself backward—because Carrick hadn’t gotten the name Moose for no reason. He was as tall, strong and sturdy as one. No one pushed him over.

As Carrick reached out to grab Danica, swinging her around behind him, she protested and cried out for him to stop.

“Carrick!” Danica called out, pure fear in her voice.

But he couldn’t.

He had to protect her from this fucking goon. There was some greater need driving hard inside Carrick, something even he could not deny. And now Carrick stood face to face with Andriy. Carrick widened his frame, protecting Danica, who was now securely behind him.

“You’re a dead man,” Andriy snarled, straightening his suit from where Carrick’s hands had been.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Carrick let out in his darkest, most intimidating voice, “or there’ll be hell to pay.”

As the last words of his threat fell, Andriy lunged forward to take a swing at Carrick, who caught the punch in his bare hand and threw his own. The only difference was that Carrick’s punch connected hard with rich-boy’s face. Blood splattered from Andriy’s nose against the wall behind him, and he cocked his head back with a vicious, murderous look.

“Do you have any idea who you are fucking with?” Andriy spat out blood, reaching into his jacket. “She’smine.”

Carrick knew exactly what Andriy was reaching for and he rushed him, taking control of the situation. He quickly whipped the man around, disarming him as the pistol from his jacket crashed to the floor. After a brief altercation, Carrick managed to get Andriy on the ground, and, boy, he was surely hurting.

That was when Carrick knew there was no turning back. He’d made an enemy out of the Russian mafia. In their eyes, he was a dead man walking. And if he didn’t get Danica out of there, someone was going to find them—and he didn’t want to see the extent of the mafia’s firepower or the extent of Andriy’s connections.

Andriy clearly was rich, powerful and had many friends…very powerful friends. Carrick was just a former Navy SEAL with too much to fight for.

Carrick grabbed Danica’s hand and rushed her out of the room, pulling her down a deserted hallway, targeting the employee parking lot where they’d stashed the pickup. He had a GPS built into his head and could navigate even the most complicated mazes.

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