Page 14 of Hating the Bratva

I look over at Delaney.

“He didn’t. Just let him go,” she begs.

I lean back down. “If she ever comes here again,” I say, loud enough so she can hear. “I will kill you, and I promise you I’ll cover it up good.”

I let him go, and he slides down the wall, clutching his throat. Delaney starts to go to him, but I grab her arm. Hot, angry tears fill her eyes.

“Come on.”

I don’t give her a chance to protest before dragging her out of the house and to my car. I open the passenger door and all but throw her inside. I slam the door shut and run a hand over my face before getting in on my side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She shrieks so loud I’m sure the whole neighborhood probably heard. I dodge her hand as it comes flying at me. I grab her wrist, but she just raises her other hand, trying to slap whatever part of me she can get to. I hold both of her small wrists in my hand. Her eyes are wild, like a feral animal. Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. I’ve never seen her so damn beautiful.

“What did you think was going to happen?” I ask. “You think I wouldn’t find you?”

“I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

“You’re always my responsibility.”

I hesitantly let go of her hands, and she crosses her arms over her chest. I start the car and head toward the street.

“Don’t take me home.”

I grip the steering wheel hard. “You have to go home at some point.”

“I’ll just run again.”

“I’m sure Nicolai won’t let you out of his sight for a second time. I’m sure he’s had his ass handed to him.”

I glance her way to see the anger melt from her face and be replaced with regret. She probably hadn’t thought about that when she took off.

“Please,” she says so quietly I can barely hear her. Her voice comes out deflated, like all the fight has left her body, and that’s what pains me the most. Delaney is full of fight—always has been—but that sound of defeat is like a kick to my stomach.

I jerk the wheel and make a U-turn on the empty street, heading back to my place. I’ll pay for this in the morning, but I’m not a strong enough man to drop her off at home. Not when she begs me like that.

I’m breaking the rules by taking her to my place.

She doesn’t say anything for a good ten minutes, and when I glance over, I see she has fallen asleep. Her head rests against the window. I wonder how much sleep she’s gotten in the two days she was gone. Probably as much as I have. When we get to the house, I don’t bother waking her up. Instead, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the guest room.

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