Page 189 of Sexting the Boss
A silhouette. Big. Broad.
I move closer, squinting.
Roman.
He’s standing near an old hunting shed, turning slightly like he’s on watch. His gun’s tucked in his belt. Careless.
Good.
I’m on him before he sees me.
I slam into his side and tackle him to the ground. He grunts, twisting beneath me, but I’m already swinging. My fist connects with his jaw. Then again. And again.
He throws a punch that glances off my ribs, but I don’t stop. I grab him by the collar and drag him up, only to slam him back into the dirt.
“You son of a bitch,” I snarl. “Where is she?”
He coughs, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’re too late?—”
I punch him again.
“WHERE IS SHE?”
Roman spits out blood. “He’s waiting for you.”
That’s when I hear it.
The unmistakable sound of a safety clicking off.
I freeze.
“Let him go,” a voice says. Cold. Calm. Unmoved.
I turn.
Lev stands at the tree line, one arm locked tightly around Sasha’s shoulders. The other holds a gun—pressed to her temple.
And she’s shaking.
Her face is pale. Her eyes—wide and glassy—lock on mine like she’s afraid she’s hallucinating me.
But I’m real.
I’m here.
And so is she.
My breath catches when I take her in fully.
Her belly.
She’s holding it. Protecting it.
She’s not even trying to struggle—she’s just watching me like I’m her last hope.
“Sasha,” I breathe.
She blinks. Her lips tremble. She doesn’t say anything.
