Page 8 of Forced Bratva Wife

Parker’s eyes were wide saucers in her face as she took me in—and the thugs gathered behind me. She was pushed into the light along with me, forced within just a foot of me by the guy keeping her silent.

At once, I noticed the pale green of her eyes. It was a lovely shade, reminding me of my mother’s birthstone, the peridot. When the fear behind them finally reached her limbs, Parker thrashed against my man holding her. It sent the strawberry blonde curls she’d loosely tied back to tumble into her face, and I was filled with the strange desire to rake my fingers through the glossy ringlets.

“Hello, Parker. I do hate to interrupt your beauty sleep. I’m afraid, you’ll be coming with me.”

Chapter 4 - Parker

Dreams, even my worst nightmares, had nothing on the fear that was coursing through my veins right now. I could barely breathe, my mouth covered, and my lungs forgot how to strike up a normal rhythm. What the hell was going on? Who were these people who’d just broken into my house?

I shoved harder against the man holding me, trying to pull myself down out of his grip, but the bastard was strong. I had a feeling in my gut that they were connected to organized crime, although I couldn't quite pinpoint why. I’d come across a few injured lackeys at the downtown hospital. While it was always my Hippocratic oath to help anyone who came into my care, I wanted nothing more than to hurt these men. That’s if I could break free.

“Really, that’s not going to get you very far.”

That man, obviously the leader considering his suit, spoke again, and again, I had to refocus myself after his voice hit my ears—too chocolatey and too intriguing. Stilling slightly, I looked up at the guy, really taking him in this time.

He was older but younger than my father, probably in his forties. Beyond the impeccable suit he wore, I could see a cold calculation in those dark eyes. Everyone around us gave him a wide berth, and his jacket was unbuttoned, a tie long discarded. This man had to be some type of higher-up in the criminal world, and the idea that I’d attracted his attention somehow made my stomach clench.

“That’s better.”

He smirked at me, and a strange combination of venom and heat licked through my veins. His voice was impossibly deep, and the way he looked at me like I was his to command to do whatever he wanted was infuriating.

What could I have done to piss off a criminal type? I stuck to my work, kept my nose down, and there hadn’t been any issues at the hospital that I was aware of. Had we lost someone in the ER that was connected to these people?

I tried to speak against the hand over my mouth, my words muffled and unintelligible.

“I’ll let you talk if you agree to keep it quiet. The second a scream comes out, he’s going to knock you unconscious. Understood?”

The grip around my arms tightened, and I nodded. Why does this guy have to speak in such a way that makes my skin crawl? I can't quite put my finger on it, but whatever it is, I don't like it. I think...

Leader Guy took a step forward, meeting the eyes of the guy holding me, and then his palm was away from my mouth. I licked away the smeared saliva on my lips, and for a moment, I could have sworn the mafioso in front of me tracked the movement with his stare.

Closer to me, I could tell just how tall the guy was, and despite the suit, there were several obvious muscles plastered to his frame. You could easily see this man at a bar and completely lose your pants to him. The thought struck me, making me seriously question my sanity at this moment. Why on earth was I thinking about the person who was actively trying to kidnap me like he was just some hot guy?

Sure, a really, really hot guy with a dark aura that made my nethers tingle, but this was so clearly not the time.

Crossing his arms over his chest and holding my eyes with that impassive but amused expression, he raised his brows at me.

“So, what do you have to say?”

I considered screaming despite the threat, but I wanted to see if I could catch them more off guard when I did that.

“Who are you? What do you want with me?”

Cool appraisal filled Leader Guy’s eyes, and my blood flamed through my cheeks. It felt wrong to be looked at like that—like he was sizing me up for the many things that he wanted to do with me. That’s when I noticed the small swirl of some type of tattoo crawling up the right side of his neck. If his suit had been properly buttoned, I would have missed it, but as it was, I could tell the design dipped below the folds of his shirt.

I could see that he was indeed muscular, the defined curves of his upper chest standing out against the shadows. Light from my window hit his face, and I noted the intensity behind even this outwardly calm expression. His deep brown eyes bored into me, and a few locks of hair from his longer bangs fell over the side of his face. The man’s beard was also well kept, giving him an air of sophistication—blanketed atop a honed carving knife.

“Right now,” I stopped my study of his face, renewed terror blooming through me as I realized how his words implied there would be more beyond tonight, “I want you to come with me into the Escalade out back. Quietly is preferred, but if you have to be a little brat about it, there are ways to deal with that.”

My mouth dropped open. Had he really just called me a brat? Why did I suddenly want to show him just how bratty I could be?

“Why?” The word tumbled from my lips. “Why do you want me to come with you?”

With a soft chuckle, Leader Guy stepped closer, and I felt that burn in my cheeks tick up another notch. “It’s not important to know right now. I can tell you all the details when we get back home.”

This fucker wants to take me home with him? Oh, hell no.

He leaned closer, invading my personal space as he studied me, and I saw more ink on his fingers as he scratched his bearded chin. The delicate Roman numerals drawn into his olive skin were at odds with the obvious broken, healed, and rebroken knuckles they surrounded. Clearly, the guy had thrown several punches in his life. In fact…

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