Page 49 of Secret Bratva Twins

The man laughed. He fucking laughed.

He slid his gun between his belt and folded his fists, assuming a boxing stance. “You fucking vermin.” He spat. “You and me... We have history together. Allow me to jog your memory while we dance.”

My jaw ticked. I knew I should have ignored this man—whoever he was, and put a bullet in his head. This was a distraction and nothing more. Saving my kids was more important. But when I was mad, I rode on erratic decisions and pure adrenaline. And now, I was very mad.

I mirrored his action, tucking my gun between my belt and raising my fists.

“If a fight is what you want, a fight is what you’ll get.” I cracked my neck. “You want to dance? Come on, baby, let’s go.”

He was fast.

I dodged his first punch, feeling the rush of air as it narrowly missed my face. I countered with a powerful kick to his midsection, causing him to stagger back.

“Come on,” I smiled. “Tell me how I know you. You’re running out of time to keep the oxygen in your lungs.”

“You! You fucked my sister and blew out her husband’s brains.”

Whoever this man was, he held on to grudges pretty well.

It was my turn to laugh. “That is a serious accusation,” I said. But I remembered the time quite well, and that was because it happened only once, and it happened a long time ago. I was on an assignment, one that included teaching the woman’s husband a fucking hardcore lesson.

He looked confused. “You don’t remember?”

“Not exactly.” I wiped more blood off my nose. “I don’t commit insignificant things to memory.”

That angered the shit out of him.

He retaliated with a flurry of punches, but I managed to block and evade each one. As he lunged at me, I swiftly ducked and delivered a devastating uppercut, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Ha-ha!” This couldn’t have felt any better like I was releasing steam. I flexed my muscles. I hadn’t done this in a long time. “Fucking idiot!”

It turned out he still had a lot of fight left in him. He wasn’t done yet. With a fierce determination, he rose to his feet and unleashed a series of rapid strikes. I weaved and bobbed, narrowly avoiding his blows. Gathering my strength, I launched a lightning-fast combination of punches and kicks, landing solid hits on his chest and face.

Blood spilled, and he stumbled backward, his strength waning.

Seizing the opportunity, I delivered a final powerful blow, sending him crashing to the ground. The fight was over, and I stood victorious, breathing heavily but filled with a sense of triumph.

I could do this all night. But I didn’t have all night.

The boys.

Grabbing my gun, I hurried back to the room. It was dark, but silver moonlight poured in from the only window at the end of the room.

The boys were lying on the small mattress with pillows over their heads.

My boys.

Something strange filled my chest when I walked up to them and, very slowly, pulled the pillow off their heads. When their heads popped up, the look of fright in their eyes tore my heart to shreds.

“Hey, you two,” I smiled, crouching to my haunches to meet this gaze. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. Mommy sent me here.”

One of them sniffled and eyed me with disbelief. I recognized him as Ryan. “Mommy sent you?”

I nodded and spread my arms out. “Uh-huh. And we don’t have much time. We have to go now, okay?”

After a doubting second, the other one, Daylan, took his brother’s hand and followed me with an understanding nod.

I scooped them up in my arms and cautiously hurried out of the room. It felt different, with them so close. The cloak of fatherhood, or whatever it was, seemed to have fallen on me.

---