Page 25 of Trapped By the Bratva
“Who else would be looking for Avilov?” I asked. I had too much free time to lie or sit here and think. If my brothers suspected other criminal families were looking for Erik Avilov, it would open up different avenues to search for intel. We wouldn’t ever work together, not with just any old family. But sometimes it was easier to discover rumors when many people were talking.
Alek winced, breaking eye contact for a moment. His reluctance to answer raised red flags.
“Who else?” I insisted on knowing.
“The Feds.”
I lowered my face at the same time that I raised my brows. “The Feds? Fuck no.”
He lifted his hand. “I’m not saying we’re cooperating with them.”
I barked an incredulous laugh. “Damn right, you won’t.” The Valkov Bratva had struggled with all sorts of bureaucratic bullshit. Mafia Families and the law enforcement agencies would never have a kumbaya moment of solidarity.
He smirked. “But I’m not saying we couldn’t cooperate with them, either.”
“Fuck. Listen to yourself, Alek. Do you hear the stupid nonsense coming out of your mouth right now?”
“If it weren’t for that agent Maxim encountered, we never would’ve found you in time.” He sobered up, serious as he stared at me. “We would’ve lost you in that fire.”
I groaned, rolling my eyes. “No, you wouldn’t have. I told Nadia to pull the alarms and start the fire. That wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been there.”
He shrugged. “I’m not playing the game of what-if with you. That agent helped Maxim with the agreement to look the other way from what we did.”
I snorted. “Yeah, and that agent died. You think any of his coworkers at the CIA are gonna uphold a dead man’s unofficial promise?”
“No, probably not. And they haven’t even reached out yet. Maybe they won’t at all. I’m only mentioning that they will be just as eager, if not more, to locate Erik Avilov.”
I groaned. “Then it’ll have to be a race against time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll have to hurry to beat them to him. That man will die under my hand, Brother. He will know the agony of my torture upon his waste of a body.”
“Dmitri.” He shook his head slightly. “I understand how determined you are to exact revenge, but be realistic. The doctors advised us to count on up to a year of therapy to get you back to a fraction of your former strength. It’s a long process. A marathon, not a sprint.”
“I know that.” I rubbed my face, hating the reminders that I had to be patient.
“And if you want to get stronger and recover as quickly as possible, I urge you to leave Hannah be. Let her help you.”
It’s more of the other way around, brother…I had done her a favor. I assisted her in coming apart from a strong climax.
Just like that, I was reminded of her gritty mewls and surprised cries. Talking about business and arguing about Erik kept my mind off Hannah.
With one mention of her, though, I was back to thinking about her. Only about her.
Will she be too scared? Did I scare her off?
I didn’t ask for consent. I’d told her what to do and she’d obeyed me. She wanted it, but I was aware of how sexually inexperienced she was. I’d definitely taken advantage, and there was a fair chance that doing so might have frightened her away.
Maybe she’s already gone, running away.
As soon as that thought hit me, I disliked it. She still intrigued me. I wanted her to stop being here and nagging me. I preferred to be left alone in my peace and quiet. Yet, in the same stroke, I wanted to push her away from meddling with the bitter solitude I’d found as a beaten man.
I manipulated her to come. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I coerced her to realize her need for me.
It might have been too harsh. She’d run out of here without a single look back. In my mind’s eye, I revisited the memory of her startled expression when I told her that she was the one who needed me.
Shit. What if she is gone?
