Page 114 of Bratva Jewels Box Set
My stomach churns at the images running through my mind. Now that they know even a small portion of what happened, they must be disgusted.
“Hey, you don’t think we’re going to look at you differently?” Tomas asks.
My eyes catch his.
“We love you, all of you, the good, the bad, and whatever ugliness happened to you,” Tomas declares.
I move forward and press my lips against his, feeling their warmth, their softness. I need this, I need to feel his lips on mine. I press my tongue against his lips, urging them to open,and he tentatively opens for me and everything, all the ugliness and bad, melts away as I feel his tongue against mine. He opens and takes me against him, those soft lips making me feel safe, his tongue lovingly caressing my own. I’ve come home, I’ve finally made it.
He pulls away from me and gives me a smile. “I think Mateo is getting a little jealous.”
I turn to see Mateo’s stunning face looking at me, a slightly worried expression on it. “I haven’t forgotten you.”
“I’ve missed you, angel.” He takes my lips ever so softly.
“I missed you both so much.” I snuggle into Mateo. “I can’t wait to get home.”
We travel in silence, my hand in Tomas’s and my body on Mateo’s. We are comfortable and happy.
“Someone’s following us,” the driver says. “Buckle up.”
My heart races as Mateo puts me beside him and pulls the seatbelt across me.
We turn and see the black SUV getting closer and closer.
“I think he’s going to hit us,” Tomas says.
“Okay, everyone, brace yourselves for impact. We’re going to try to get you all to safety.”
And just as he says those words, bullets hit the car.
I scream as they ping off the metal.
“Get down,” one of the big guys yells at us.
The driver is swerving, and we are being thrown around like rag dolls; thank goodness I’m wearing a seatbelt. I’m so scared it’s Nikolai and his crew coming to take me back.
Mateo shields me as the man who bought me opens the window and fires back. There is rapid gunfire exchanged.
“Shit, Brooks, they’ve shot out the tires,” the driver yells at the big man.
“Where’s the bag with the guns?” Brooks asks.
“Next to me.”
There is silence, then the sound of metal. The car swerves as another round of gunfire hits it.
Then another loud pop.
“Fuck, we’re on the rims!” the driver screams.
“Stock up, man. Police are ETA ten minutes; we are going to have to hold them till then.”
A lot can happen in ten minutes.
Then there is a massive bang and the car shudders.
“Fuck, they’re ramming us— not sure if I can hold them anymore,” the driver says.
