Page 143 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

“Phoenix, I’m so sorry.”

Our eyes meet and he allows me in past the façade for the briefest flash. Just enough that I see his pain. Recognize it.

It runs deep. And in that moment, I don’t want to leave him alone with his grief. I’ve felt alone before, and it may just be the worst feeling in the world.

Instinctively, I reach out and cup his face with my hand. And to my shock, he lets me. I can feel the rough growth of stubble coming in. He doesn’t lean his face into my palm but he doesn’t cringe away from it, either.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, just so he understands how much I feel what he feels.

“I know.”

For one wild moment, he lets me linger there. Past the walls. Past the defenses. Just two human beings, raw and real and vulnerable.

And then I see it again—the whiplash change in his mood. I feel myself being ejected from that dangerous space, hurled out back in the direction I came from.

Something dark ripples across his eyes, and he pulls away from me.

He pushes himself off the chair and walks around the counter so that we have the kitchen island between us now. Sighing, I try and shake off my disappointment. But my façade isn’t as good as his is at the moment.

“How’d you get shot?” I ask, trying to salvage the conversation.

“That’s a good fucking question!” someone interrupts.

Both Phoenix and I turn in the direction of the person who spoke. Matvei’s standing in the doorway, stomach wrapped in thick gauze, staring between the two of us.

Phoenix grimaces. “You should be in bed.”

“The hospital called me. You went in alone, didn’t you?” he accuses.

“I didn’t think—”

“Who else would pull Vitya out?”

There’s something about Matvei. Something almost boyish about him when he’s relaxed and content. But when he’s angry… well, everything about him shifts. The angel becomes a beast.

“I made a decision,” Phoenix says.

“You make all the decisions,” Matvei retorts. “And lately, they’ve been the wrong ones.”

“You questioning my judgement, old friend?” Phoenix asks dangerously.

I shiver, caught between the testosterone-fueled heat of two alpha males.

“You’re goddamn right I am,” Matvei says without mincing his words. “You could have been killed.”

“It’s only a flesh wound, and Elyssa’s already stitched me up. I’ll recover faster than you will.”

Matvei limps forward, jabbing an accusatory finger in the air. “You should have taken backup.”

“I didn’t think I needed it.”

“I would have told you that you did if you’d just spoken to me before you left.”

“I don’t take my orders from you, Matvei.”

“No, you don’t take orders from anyone. You don’t take advice from anyone, either. You used to.”

Phoenix’s eyes flutter to me for a moment. Then he sighs. “We should talk in private. Not here.”

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