Page 70 of Between Us

Roman removed the rag from her mouth. “Please talk to me.”

She let out a sob instead, the sound of which made Roman curse profusely.

“I’m here,” he said, lifting her body into his arms easily. “I’ve got you.”

“Uh, boss…”

“What?” Roman snapped, not even looking in Dimitri’s direction, too focused on his wife.

“Boris is alive. Barely, but he’s still fucking breathing.”

Roman had a decision to make. Either allow Boris to live and let Vitaly dish out whatever punishment he saw fit, or deal with him himself. That was,ifhe even survived the drive back into Russian territory.

But when Alessandra wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, her body trembling against his, he alreadyknew what hewantedto do, consequences be damned.

“Blow his fucking brains out.”

As he walked out of the room carrying his crying wife, he noticed the trash bag lying on the floor and gritted his teeth. He kicked it to the side and continued to move, not on ounce of regret weighing on his mind.

???

Alessandra was silent on the drive home. In the backseat of Andrei’s car, she lay with her head in Roman’s lap, bloodshot eyes staring at the passenger seat unseeing. She had stopped crying a few minutes ago, her body turning lethargic as if the tears had taken everything from her. She sunk into the soft leather, barely moving except for her chest gently rising and falling with her shallow breaths.

Roman brushed his fingers over her bruised cheek, biting his tongue before he could start drilling her with questions, knowing now was not the time. He was still wound up, his lungs feeling as if they were on fire with each breath he took. One hand clenched into a fist at his side. He turned his head to look out the window, hating the sight of the marks they had left on her body.

As they reached home, Andrei parked the car then got out to open the back door. Roman gathered Alessandra into his arms before exiting the vehicle. As he walked up to the front door, Alek’s car pulled in the driveway, and he followed inside with Andrei. Stepan and Dimitri had stayed behind with Roman’s car to deal with the mess.

Roman carried Alessandra to their bedroom, eased her down on the bed and softly kissed her forehead. Sheturned her back to him and curled into herself as she stared blankly at nothing at all.

Seeing her like that, so fragile and almost broken, made him want to go back and resurrect the traitorous bastards just so he could kill them all over again.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, heading for the door and walking into the hallway. Pulling out his phone, he dialed the doctor on Bratva’s payroll.

He heard Alek and Andrei talking downstairs, but he didn’t try to listen to their conversation, too distracted by his own thoughts. Once he was done with the doctor, he placed a final call to his father.

The line connected seconds later. “Yes.”

“Three of your men are dead,” Roman said without preamble, his voice cold and calculated.

“Who?” Vitaly demanded, and Roman thought that he sounded a little off, as if he wasn’t all that surprised.

“Ivan, Boris and Sasha.”

“How?”

“They took Alessandra with the intent to kill her. I assume you didn’t know about this?”

His father paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded angry. “Are you accusing me of something, Roman?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I called to let you know you’re three men short.”

“Understandable. You did well.”

As always, they were both careful with what words they spoke over the phone.

“They took her into Armenian territory. We need to talk.”

“Yes,” Vitaly said, and Roman heard a feminine voice in the background that didn’t sound like Yana. “That wedo. I’ll meet you at the house in an hour.”

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