Page 39 of Kneeling for Daddy
I roll my eyes, trying to mask my true reaction—flushed cheeks and a fluttering pussy—to being collared and leashed for him again.
We leave the shop hand in hand, the band squeezing between my fingers and his. As we step onto the sidewalk, Nik’s entire body tenses when he sees the men lingering a few feet down the street.One glances in our direction, and his hand tightens around mine. He pulls me flush to him, and we walk briskly toward the parking garage, with me tucked into him. He’s silent as we cut between cars, and my stomach drops when I hear footsteps stomping across the concrete behind us.
Nik unlocks the car and shoves the key fob into my hand. His voice is sharp, with an edge of worry, as he barks, “Get in the fucking car.”
“Nik—”
“Now, Ani!”
The command in his tone leaves no room for argument. I run the final few feet to the car, clutching the key. A sharp whistle draws my attention, and I glance over my shoulder to find the three men from the sidewalk quickly approaching Nik. I hastily climb into the car as they laugh and call out things I can’t quite make out over the pulse pounding in my ears. I slam the door shut and push the lock button the second I’m inside.
My chest is heaving as I stare through the windshield at Nik. I clutch the handle of the door, watching as the men surround him in seconds. Three against one. They circle him like wolves, waiting to pounce. I should do something—anything—but I’m frozen with fear.
“You look nervous, Romanov,” one sneers, his muffled voice carrying through the slightly cracked-open window. “Not so tough without your brothers backing you up, are you?”
Nik spits at him, the spray landing just short of his target. “Come closer. I’ll show you just how not-so-tough I am.”
They laugh coldly as two of them lunge forward and grab his arms. He fights, his muscles straining, as they wrench them behind his back. But it’s useless… they’ve got him pinned. The third pulls a knife, and it glints under the harsh garage lights. “Nik!” I scream, my stomach lurching.
“After I gut you,” the man threatens, waving the blade inches from Nik’s chest, “maybe the three of us will have our way with that traitorous little bitch of yours. Show her what it’s like to get fucked by an Armenian man.”
Something shifts in Nik, and a terrifying stillness falls over him. His eyes darken, growing colder than I have ever seen them. The sight chills me to the bone.
With a roar, he jerks free of the men holding him. He grips the wrist of the man before him, twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Without hesitation, he drives his fist into the man’s throat, sending him sprawling across the garage floor.
A second man tries to grab hold of him again, but Nik throws his head backward so hard that blood sprays across them as he throws an elbow backward into the man’s gut.
The third scoops up the knife and lunges toward Nik. He grabs the handle and twists it, the man howls as Nik snaps his wrist and changes the direction of the blade. Slamming it home, he buries it in the man’s chest.
I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth as the man collapses at Nik’s feet. The garage echoes with the sounds of their scuffle. His chest heaving, he stands over them as he pulls his gun. There isn’t so much of a second of hesitation from him, and I startle when gunfire echoes off the concrete. It’s brutal and fast, Nik leaving all three of them on the ground—broken, bleeding,and lifeless. Wiping his hand across his sweaty face, he leaves a smear of blood from his busted knuckles. He spits again before lifting his eyes toward me.
My hands are still clamped over my mouth, and my body is trembling uncontrollably. Nik strides to the car and yanks at the driver’s side door handle. “Open the door, Ani.” I push the button, and he slides in with his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth are grinding together. Slamming the car into gear, he peels out of the garage.
I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. My heart is still hammering against my ribs as I stare at him with wide eyes. His grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled, and his other hand is squeezing my thigh almost as tight. Warm liquid trickles onto my bare leg, and I realize he didn’t make it through that fight unscathed. There is blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt, a long cut slicing across his forearm.
“Nik—”
“I’m fine,” he promises, his tone still vibrating with adrenaline. “They didn’t lay a finger on you, and that means I’m fine.”
I sink back into my seat, the ring heavy on my finger and heart even heavier in my chest. He just killed three men without an ounce of hesitation. To protect me. It should horrify me. And it does, at least a little bit. But it also breaks something inside of me, because even as the blood stains his hands and my thigh, I can only think one thing...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.
By the time we pull into our building’s garage, my adrenaline is fading. It leaves behind an ugly throb in my temples and the burn of broken skin where blood is drying on my hands and the gash in my arm.
Ani hasn’t said a word since I insisted I was fine. She presses against the passenger seat, every muscle in her body tight, her wide eyes fixed beyond the windshield as if she doesn’t look at me, she won’t have to acknowledge what just happened.
I cut the engine, but I don’t move. I just sit behind the steering wheel with my hand on her thigh. My shirt sleeve is sticky with blood—not all of it mine—and every muscle in my body aches to finish what we started, plowing through Brighton Beach until not a single traitorous Armenian bastard is left standing. But that isn’t where my focus needs to be at this moment.
When I lift my gaze to Ani, I find her still trembling. I should reach for her and say something to comfort her, but I don’t trust myself to say the right thing. The thoughts of violence are stilltoo close to the surface, and that’s not what I want her to hear right now.She’s already seen enough…
“Come on,” I softly insist, my voice rough. She startles like I barked an order before nodding. Unfolding her arms from her chest, she opens the door and slips out of the car. I follow behind, grimacing as I take my first look at the knife wound running along my arm.
After swiping my bloody thumb across the screen of my phone, I text Enzo and Cillian.
My apartment. Now.
Maybe bring the sutures.
Inside the apartment, Ani drops her bag on the counter. She stands beside the island and stares at me like she doesn’t recognize the man who brought her home.Maybe she doesn’t.She’s seen me lose my temper before, but in that parking garage, she saw my whole truth. I’m not just violent. I’m fucking lethal.
