Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
The threat in her tone would have any man quivering in his boots, but Matvei simply laughs before he tosses a bulletproof vest into Maksim’s chest. “Happy?”
A bunker at the side of the house is every gang member’s wet dream. It is full of weapons that Matvei stuffs into the trunk and back seat of his ride while Maksim glares at the bulletproof vest as if it is a dirty diaper.
“What the fuck?” He locks eyes with his brother, who’s cleared out the storeroom of guns in under a minute. “We never suit up before battle. What the fuck has changed?”
“Them,” Matvei answers, jerking his head to me and the unknown brunette. “We’ve never had them to come home to before.”
The sheer determination in his eyes to return to me in one piece sees me yanking out of the stranger's hold and galloping down the stairs at a million miles an hour.
Matvei catches me when I throw myself into his arms before he opens his mouth to the lashing requests of my tongue. I kiss him with everything I have. I hold nothing back, because I’m panicked as hell that this could be the last kiss we share, and if it is, my life won’t be worth living.
When I pull back to look into Matvei’s lust-filled eyes, Maksim murmurs, “All right, I get it. Enough PDA.” He tosses a frisky wink at his girl before throwing his vest over his head and sliding into the driver’s seat of Matvei’s ride. “This piece of shit better be worth its price tag.”
Matvei draws my focus from Maksim revving the engine by whispering an admission he shouldn’t be giving. “I need you to know, nothing that is happening right now is your fault.”
“I—”
He squashes his finger to my lip that’s still swollen from sucking him dry. “Not now. We don’t have time. You just need to trust me.”
“I do,” I murmur around his finger.
His smirk is larger than the one he wore when I said “I do” for a completely different reason.
“Good.” He taps my backside before nudging his head to the brunette. “Go into the basement with Nikita and wait there until I come to collect you.” I nod, but you’d swear I didn’t when he continues warning, “Don’t come out for anything, Natalya. Do you understand? You are not to leave that basement.”
Even filled with worry, I nod again.
“Let’s go, Matvei!” Maksim shouts, startling me enough that I jump. “The quicker we deal with this, the quicker we can burn this fucking hellhole to the ground along with all the memories of the prick who lived here.”
Matvei’s jaw is so tight when he leans in to press his lips to the side of my mouth I feel its tic. “Go inside. They won’t look for you here, but I can’t leave until I know you are safe.”
“Okay.” Some say it may be too early for what I say next, but I married this man, so the least I can do is give him these three measly words. “I love you.”
His smile will keep me warm long after Nikita guides me inside the once-grand property to a bunker-like dungeon to wait out a war I started.
32
NATALYA
When Nikita hisses for the second time as we descend the rickety stairs in the fort-like basement of the rundown mansion, I guide her to an overturned milk crate and encourage her to sit. She was solid and impenetrable until Maksim was out of sight, and then she crumbled like an unstable wall.
“Let me see,” I request when the pain on her face can’t be hidden for a second longer.
She holds her breath when I peel back her bulky winter coat. Her shirt is soaked with blood, and it's acting like glue by holding her skin hostage to her clothing.
“Shit,” I murmur when I notice a circular singe-like mark in the middle of the blood pool. “Did you get shot?”
She nods before throwing her head back to breathe through the pain. Sobs whistle through her bared teeth along with a confession. “I couldn’t tell Maksim, or he wouldn’t have left. His mother…” She stops for another breather. “She means everything to him.” She wets her lips before angling her body to inspect the wound. “I’m reasonably sure it is a through and through, but I need you to check before I can suture the hole.”
“You can’t stitch that yourself.”
“I can.” Another hiss of pain. “I’m in my final year of m-medical school.” When pain fetters her features, I scan the shelves surrounding us for pain medication. There’s enough canned food to last two lifetimes but not a single pain relief tablet. “But if I don’t stop the bleeding, I could…” Her whitening cheeks finalize her reply.
“Okay.” I breathe in and out three times to settle my queasy stomach before asking, “Tell me what to do.”