Page 26 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Easy,” says the girl. “Give her a second.”

“I have orders,” the man barks.

She rolls her eyes. “Men and their orders. Honestly, that boss of yours has you all by the balls.”

“Ready to rip them out at a moment’s notice,” he growls.

“Where’s my son?” I choke out, looking at the brunette. “Where’s Theo?”

She glances to the side. That’s when I notice the black stroller placed by the foot of my bed. It’s turned to face me and I can see Theo is sleeping soundly, cocooned in his luxurious little portable bed. He’s in clothes I’ve never seen before and one chubby arm is wrapped around a new stuffed bunny.

My heart steadies a little when I realize that he’s obviously been well-cared for. I’m desperate to go scoop him up. But the way the gruff man is eyeing me has me frozen in place for now.

“Who changed him? Is he okay? Has he eaten?” I ask, rattling off questions without waiting for the answers.

“Look at him,” the girl says by way of an answer, though her voice is gentle. “He’s happy as a clam.”

“You need to get dressed,” the guard says brusquely. “We’re moving out. Leona, get her ready.”

The girl—Leona, I suppose—rolls her eyes again. “I’ll make sure she’s dressed,” she says.

“My orders were—”

“I know what your fucking orders are,” she snaps. “You’ve only said it ten thousand times. Wait outside for us.”

Her confidence reminds me of Charity, but I’m not looking to make another friend. Not after what happened to the last one.

And certainly not with anyone working for Phoenix.

Leona moves around the bed to a small suitcase in the corner. “Jeans and a t-shirt?” she inquires. “You look like that kinda girl.”

“I honestly don’t know what kind of girl I am,” I murmur. “Not anymore.”

She turns to me. Her expression isn’t exactly sympathetic, but it’s close. “We’re all a little lost, honey.”

It’s something Charity would say. So perfectly on brand for Charity, as a matter of fact, that it makes my heart throb.

I turn my face away to hide the tears in my eyes. “Where are we going?” I ask abruptly.

“I’m not sure I’m at liberty to say.”

I laugh bitterly. “Guess the men aren’t the only ones that Phoenix has got by the balls, huh?”

Leona grins. “Touché. You know, I really shouldn’t play into your hands, but maybe just this one time. Just to prove I’m a rebel. So, to answer your question, we’re taking a little jaunt to Mexico.” Her smile is infectious.

I stare at her in disbelief. “Mexico?”

“Excellent, your hearing is working well.”

“But… why there?”

“I have no earthly idea,” she replies with a shrug. “But if you find out, be a pal and let me know.”

“How would I find out?”

“You are married to the head honcho, after all.”

It’s weird hearing her say those words out loud. The ceremony—if you can even call it that—feels like something from a restless dream. Was it real? Did it count? Surely not.

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