Page 21 of Roxanne

As we silently breach the warehouse, splitting into two groups of two, my blood rushes with adrenaline. After what I thought was the murder of her uncle, Misha took me under his wing, and showed me how to be an Ivanov, even if I wasn’t blood. He said I paid my way into this family with the blood on my hands.

He was impressed that a sixteen-year-old kid was capable of acting swiftly, and so callously.

I didn’t tell him I puked the second I got Roxy to safety.

As we make our way from room to room, silently taking out several gang members along the way, I think of my Roxy. If they have harmed even a single hair on her head, I will end them.

I chuckle to myself, who am I kidding, I’m ending them all regardless.

There’s a part of me that suspects this low-life gang was put up to this, and I hope I’m right. If I am, they’ll lead us to Eli sooner, rather than later.

“Basement, headed down now,” I say into the radio, keeping my voice low. The door to the basement is wide fucking open. “Possible trap,” I add, signaling to the man behind me to keep his eyes fucking open.

“Forty seconds,” Will replies, and I nod to the man with me. We have a forty-second head start before Will catches up. My man and I make it down the stairs in silence, and a single light hangs from the ceiling, illuminating my girl. I pause, using the night vision on my scope to search the room. When I look up, I see the trap. Three men are in the rafters.

I signal up, and my guy nods. Lifting my hand, I show him three fingers. Two. One. Then we shoot.

Two men fall, as the third returns fire, and Roxy screams. I dive out of the line of fire, and quickly aim my sights, one shot, two… On the third, he drops from the sky like a dead bird, and I drop my gun, rushing to my girl's side.

“Lame, I missed all the fun.” Will pouts, as he joins me, helping me slice the ropes securing Roxy to the chair.

“Hey, it’s okay, calm down. It’s me, Little Sinner.” I rip the piece of cloth off her face, and she blinks in the light, her eyes searching my face frantically. The second her arms are free, she throws herself into my arms.

“Storm,” she cries, and Will huffs.

“Not feeling the love here, Rocks,” Will teases her, trying to lighten the mood. He’s as capable of reading the room as a plane is of swimming.

“Shut up, let's get out of here,” I snap, and Will nods. Despite his attempt to joke with his sister, his face remains serious, and his guard is on high alert. He knows we still have to get her out of here, and there might be more men in the building. I lift Roxy into my arms, and she wraps herself around me like I’m a tree, and she’s a koala.

She buries her face in my neck, and I inhale her scent. One of our men grabs my discarded rifle and hands me a pistol. With one arm wrapped tightly around my girl, the other aims the gun straight ahead.

I can’t help but inhale her scent as my body trembles slightly. Partly from the adrenaline high, and partly because every moment of the last two hours has been hell. I wasn’t willing to allow myself to believe anything had happened to her, but I knew without a fucking doubt, that if something had happened, I would have followed Roxy to the afterlife without a second's hesitation.

There is no world in which I can exist without her.

* * *

Roxanne

I frown as the doorbell rings. Who the fuck?

Storm hasn’t let me out of his sight for three days, but today he left early after getting a call before the sun was even up. Of course, not before threatening the lives of the three men outside my door.

“If she so much as trips, I’ll gut you and feed your insides to your fucking mothers.” He’d growled like some kind of rabid animal. It was unhinged and sort of sexy.

There was a time when this would have enraged me. Having Storm in my freaking hair for seventy-two hours straight. However, this wasn’t so bad.

Once again, I owed Storm my life. I don’t remember much of the kidnapping if I’m honest. I remember making it to my apartment. Someone delivered pizza that I didn’t order, then the world went black.

I woke up tied to a chair in a room that smelled like sweaty men and mildew. It felt like I was tied to that chair for days, but was apparently no more than five hours. Storm realized I was gone almost immediately and called Will just as quickly.

Then they came to my rescue. I spent the next four hours clinging to Storm. I was wrapped around him like we were both made of Velcro.

In a moment where I should have wanted anyone but Storm, he was my lifeline.

The truth is, I couldn’t take out my anger on the people who really deserved it, so Storm gladly accepted that position as my enemy. I took my pain out on him, and he let me.

Every hurtful word, every denial of our connection.

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