Page 93 of Prince of Control
I realize I’ve lost the right to call her malyshka, but she throws her arms around me, and I want to weep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lara
Baron squeezes me so tight I can’t breathe, kissing my hair, my temple, my forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” he rasps.
I cling to him, my legs not holding me yet. I don’t mean to, but my gaze returns to Abrasha. If I were a better person, I would be horrified about what I just witnessed. My husband shooting then brutally beating a man to death. But I drank in every second of it.
I soaked up Baron, covered in bruises but looking every inch the bad ass. Dripping competency porn.
I never once doubted he would win the battle.
“He’s dead,” Baron says.
Shouts and gunfire sound from inside the house.
“Your dad is here.” Baron whips his t-shirt off his head and pulls it down over mine. I shove my arms through the holes, and he hustles me into his bulletproof vest.
“Come on,” he says. “We have to go.” He takes my hand and leads me to the door. “Stay behind me.”
“But you’re not wearing Kevlar.”
He turns, emotion blazing in his eyes, and kisses me fiercely.
I gasp when we come apart. What was that? A goodbye kiss in case he doesn’t make it?
“You care,” he murmurs.
My heart pinches painfully. Of course, I care. I never stopped caring. Baron’s mine. I’m his. We belong together. I’ve never felt so certain of anything in my life.
I’m pissed at him, but my heart started to heal the moment Baron walked through the door. Even when I’d walked away, I didn’t want us to be over. I was hurt and mad, but I hoped he’d follow. Hoped he’d figure out how to fix us.
We still have a huge problem to work out, but he’s here. Sexy as hell with his muscled torso bare and the cargo pants with guns strapped to each leg.
He hands me one of the guns, and I slip off the safety. Baron nods when he sees I know my way around a gun and pushes my torso down, so we’re moving at a crouch. We leave the bedroom, stepping over the body of a dead guard. Baron keeps his body angled protectively in front of mine.
Gunshots sound from multiple directions. I saw dozens of guards when we drove in. I pray my dad brought an army because this place was defended like a fortress. We get to the bottom of the stairs where another guard’s body lies. I step square on his chest with my bare foot. I’m in nothing but Baron’s t-shirt, Kevlar, and my panties, but I have a gun, and I’m with the most powerful man I know.
And I don’t mean my father.
Every bit of fear Brash invoked in me has now turned to power. I raise the gun, ready to fire. I plan to protect Baron while he protects me.
He’s my husband. We were made for each other.
I fell in love with you the moment you walked off that plane, malyshka.
He knew it from the start. I didn’t know it until I thought we were over. Sometimes it takes the worst to bring things into crystal clear focus.
We round the corner, and Baron jerks back. Machine gun bullets hit the floor exactly where we were standing a moment before.
Baron presses me up against the wall, smashing his body in front of mine with his gun poised to shoot.
When the machine gun fire stops, two shots ring out, and I hear the sound of a body falling to the ground.
“Clear,” my father shouts in Russian.
