Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Hagrid had just finished the last of his taunting words when an armored black Mercedes rolled to a stop directly behind us.
I didn’t bother to ask how the man knew where we were.
Likely, he had a tracker on the woman’s phone.
“Honey,” I said. “The man who is in your emergency contact is here.”
Still no movement—well, besides the shaking.
The man arrived like an avenging angel.
He pushed through the bikers like he had not a single care in the world and walked right up to the woman in my arms.
I tried to release her, but she wasn’t going without any coaxing.
“Go Go, darlin’,” I said. “You gotta let go.”
“No,” she moaned.
“Milena.”
The man looked ready to rip her from my body.
I held my hands up to let him know I wasn’t holding her there.
He looked at me, studying my face, before saying, “Milena, sister. I have my car here…”
“Of fuckin’ course you’d show up,” the punk from the crotch rocket said. “She always calls her big brother to protect her from thin air.”
The “big brother” turned only his head and pinned the prick with a stare. “If you ever show your face in front of me again, I’ll peel your skin off your face and shove it up your ass.”
As threats went, that one was pretty damn good.
If I were a lesser man, like the punk behind me, I would’ve been definitely rethinking my words.
But he snorted. “You don’t scare me, Semyonov.”
That name had my mind screeching to a halt.
There was only one Semyonov in the area that would’ve scared anyone, and if this was him, I’d definitely be thinking better of my words.
From what I’d been able to garner based solely on word of mouth, Shasha Semyonov was one scary son of a bitch.
“If I get my sister in this car and you’re still here, I’m running you over with it,” Semyonov growled.
Seconds later, she was being pried from my body.
“No, no, no.” She reached for me again, and I wouldn’t admit to how that made me feel.
Warm.
Wanted.
Definitely delusional.
She was shaking so hard that he could barely hold onto her.
“Put her in your car, I’ll tell you what happened,” I suggested.
“What the fuck?”
Before the man could move with whom I assumed was his sister, the prick from earlier chose violence.
He pulled his crotch rocket right up in the middle of our club, got off, and barreled toward the man still holding the woman.
I stepped around the man and placed my body in front of his before saying, “I need you to think long and hard for a moment. Ask yourself is this really how you want to die.”
I wasn’t joking either.
I knew several different ways to kill the dumbass without breaking a sweat.
“Like the crime lord of Dallas really needs your fuckin’ help.” The dumbass snorted. “Give me my girl back.”
“She’s not your girl anymore,” I supplied. “You likely lost that privilege when you started driving a hundred and fifty miles an hour with her in the middle of rush hour traffic.”
“What?” the man behind me asked quietly.
“Car, man,” I said over my shoulder. “I’ll explain everything.”
The man behind me did just that.
When the one in front of me went to make a grab for her, I caught his wrist with my hand and twisted it quickly behind his back.
He went down to his knees screeching. “Do you know who I am?”
I didn’t care who the fuck he was.
I waited until he was damn near kissing the pavement before I told Semyonov exactly what happened.
He listened calmly, and didn’t interrupt until I was finished.
With one look from me to the dude still lying on the ground, his face full of sweat, he said, “You have two seconds to get out of my sight. If you decide to linger, we’ll be accidentally shoving you out into traffic.”
“There’s no…”
A car revved its engine, and I looked back to see a woman at the wheel of the car, looking pissed as hell.
“As I was saying,” he said. “Leave.”
The man finally found the head on his shoulders and left, but not without a last parting shot. “This isn’t over, Semyonov.”
Semyonov smiled and watched as the man left on his bike.
It was only when he was so far in the distance that we couldn’t see him that Semyonov turned to me and said, “I owe you a debt.”
I studied the man for a long second before saying, “You owe me nothing.”
I left after that, getting back on my bike.
The ride through the lake was beautiful, and by the time I arrived home, I felt like I could breathe again.
Only, my mind kept straying back to her, and who the hell she was.
Milena.
Milena Semyonov?
The sad fact was, I’d probably never find out.
I’m at the age where a 22-year-old guy is looking kinda good, but so is his dad.
—Milena’s secret thoughts