Page 87 of Savage Bratva King

Armed men close in on us, covering us with the barrage of bullets flying from their guns. I’m sobbing now. They’re tears of frustration. No one came to rescue me when I was abducted, and now that I’ve fallen in love with my captor, Xander is going to take me away again like he’s some kind of superhero.

When I’m close enough to see the smug expression on Xander’s face, Sergei shoves me towards him like he’s done with being the fall guy for the Sicilian boss.

Xander doesn’t move. He’s so arrogant that he thinks I’ll fall into his arms and shower him with my undying gratitude. But the way I feel right now, I want to punch him in the face and scream at him to stay the fuck out of my life.

So, that’s what I do.

My knuckles feel like they’re on fire when my fist connects with his cheekbone, but it’s worth the pain for the look on his face. His eyes widen in shock and then darken when the tender skin beneath his eye splits.

He makes no move to touch me himself.

Maybe Mel warned him not to lay a finger on me, or maybe he’s just a yellow-bellied coward who, afraid of what Leo will do to him if he touches me, is hiding behind his reputation and his men.

I’m still hollering and screaming at him, “Leave me the fuck alone,” when two of his men grab me from behind and lift my feet off the ground. “Xander! Tell your fucking men to put me down!”

I lash out with both feet, catching my captors’ thighs with my heels. But they’re far stronger than me, and no matter how I struggle and buck and scream, they carry me off Leo’s property and out of his life without even raising a sweat.

I’m still struggling and yelling hoarsely between sobs of frustration when they bundle me into the back of a truck with blacked-out windows. I land on my hip and roll sideways, but the door slams shut behind me, locking me in with the murky gloom. Someone else must be waiting for me inside the truck.

They don’t speak. But something cold and wet is held over my face, smothering my nose and mouth and filling my brain with a sinister chemical smell, and the world goes black.

* * *

I open my eyes, bringing the room slowly into focus.

I don’t know where I am. My limbs feel heavy, and a small smile tugs my lips upwards when I think about Leo, spreading my legs wide and burying his face in my sex. I feel the same kind of lethargy that follows a night of passion in Leo’s bed. Only, I can’t remember him coming back from the casino or what we did when we went to his room.

I study the neutral walls, the abstract artwork in the minimalist frame, the polished dark-wood floor.

This isn’t Leo’s room.

I sit up, leaning heavily against the padded headboard as the room slides out from under me. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply until my pulse starts to regulate. I feel nauseous. Bile rises in my throat, and I lean over the side of the bed retching, grateful when nothing comes out. My head feels hangover-woozy, my brain cells spinning.

Jeez, what the fuck happened last night?

Then it all comes bulldozing back to me like a spooked horse.

The phone call to Mel; Sergei; Ivana with her gun aimed straight at us. Xander-fucking-Amory.

Leo will be worried about me. I need to get back to him, let him know that I’m alright, that I didn’t want to leave, that Sergei tricked me into calling my sister. It must’ve been a trap. Xander must’ve been tracing the call.

The thought that Mel was part of this fills me with a sick sense of uneasiness. I know she must’ve been worried about me, but when she learns how I feel about Leo, she’ll be gutted that she helped her husband drag me away from him.

Will she help me get back to Leo though, that’s the question. And if it means going against her husband’s orders, I already know the answer.

No.

I have to get out of here.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I grip the comforter with both hands until my head stops swimming.

The key turning in the lock grabs my attention. I cast my eyes around the room, searching for a weapon, but just like the guest room in Leo’s house, there’s nothing close to hand that I can use. My gaze instinctively flits to the camera set high in the ceiling cornice.

I’ve swapped one prison for another, only no matter how hard I look, I’m not going to find my future in this one.

Grabbing the lamp from the nightstand, I stumble across the room and press my back against the wall so that I’ll be behind the door when it opens.

The doorknob clicks. The door opens a fraction, and I raise the lamp over my shoulder with the heavy base facing the door. I’m ready to swing when a familiar voice says, “Gi? Gi, where are you?” and Mel walks into the room.

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