Page 58 of Forced Bratva Wife

“Double your socks. Get it in between and hope for the fucking best. You can’t go in there naked.”

With a nod, I flicked my stare to one of the men to fetch me another pair of socks before returning to Pietor with a firm gaze.

My cousin had a tendency to be cruel, but in this particular instance, I was grateful for his protective nature. We clapped arms together and held each other's gaze.

“Don’t let them fuck this up. And if something goes sideways for Parker, you get her the fuck out of there.”

I turned back to the group of men standing at the ready across from me. “That goes for all of you. Got it?”

A choir of “yes, sir” rang in the chrome and tile room.

Steeling myself with a deep breath, I knew I had to add a particular addendum to that order.

“And I mean that in any instance.” I roamed my stare across each person gathered. “If I’m fucked, fine. You put Parker first on the priority list.”

Silence hung, heavy and thick. I knew they all had to think I was nuts. But it didn’t fucking care. Parker was the priority. She was the rescue target, and getting her out of there was more important than protecting me or even taking out Pavel.

“Get the car ready, have med on standby, and get more backup prepared in case this all flips on us. I don’t want this getting back to the Vadim house.”

The collection of assholes who I had with me in this house since I moved in did as ordered.

Loyalty, integrity and honesty among killers.

It’s what I expected of all of them, and they’d yet to let me down. The world was always destined for violence and death, but having this crew by my side, especially Pietor, might make it bearable.

When it was just me and Pietor in the armory, I leaned against the long table to double up the socks and hide away the blade. I was a righty, so I went with that side, assuming I had that arm available. The metal bit into the side of my leg slightly, but my slim boot was able to slide right back into place with hopefully no one the wiser.

“You’re going to get yourself fucking killed.”

Pietor’s tone was flat, and I scoffed.

“Well, then, you’ll happily claim my belongings. Probably to light them on fire or some bullshit.”

At once, he was up in my face, gripping either lapel of my suit jacket.

“Don’t you dare fucking roll over and take this. You can’t just be fine with dying in there. Not over some chick.”

Shoving Pietor back hard, he crashed against the wall behind him, rattling the hanging firearms. I jabbed a finger at him, glaring hard as he shuffled back to his feet.

“Do not speak about Parker like that.”

Tension radiated like radioactive trash, and for a few solid seconds, we just glared at each other. Eventually, Pietor broke the eye contest, shaking his head and straightening his leather jacket. When his mismatched gaze met mine again, I saw the burn of anxiety behind them.

“You need to be honest with at least yourself about her if you won’t be honest with me.”

I frowned, yanking my chin back as I glared all the harder. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t keep playing this bullshit about her just being your wife because, oops, the situation demanded it. They fucking did not. Tell the fucking truth, cousin.”

Pietor liked to pull that card whenever he was especially pissed at me. He knew as well as I did that “cousin” didn’t match our relationship correctly. My mother was dead when I was a damn teenager, and he had taken me in. Damned brother was more like it.

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the gusty wind in my sails suddenly come to a stop. I slumped down onto the table behind me, using it as support so I wouldn't fall to the floor.

This internal conversation and the vocalization of Parker’s role in my life that would have to follow weren’t items on my to-do list I was particularly looking forward to. I didn’t want to admit dick. I shouldn’t have to, and yet…

Here the fuck I was.

“This isn’t the best fucking time for this, Pietor.”

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