Page 58 of Unwilling Bratva Bride

“What crawled up your ass?”

I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “Ugh, sorry. This is just a bit frustrating, ain’t it? We’ve been looking for a better lead on Donovan’s plans for two weeks now. It’s getting old.”

Abe shrugged as he nodded once, pulling out his cell to text the clean-up crew.

“No shit. But that’s the job.” His fingers danced over the keys, and then he slid the phone back into his pocket. “They’ll be here in ten. And I, for one, am looking forward to the break.We’ve been hitting it every fucking night, and for the first time, I’m actually running out of gas.”

Vlad groaned in agreement, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d worked over our latest target for at least an hour, and I was sure his back was sore from leaning over the guy as he was strapped to the chair.

The sound of water running also started up, and I looked over to see both him and Abe washing their hands in the dingy sink we’d had installed in what we affectionately called “The Work House.”

“Yeah, boys. I think a night in is just what the doctor ordered.”

Images of Adley filled my mind, and my bad mood was dissipating faster with each second.

When they were cleaned up, my brother sauntered over, Abe knocking me in the shoulder with his. I shoved back, playing our dumb little game, but then Vlad caught me by the arm and swung me around to look at his phone.

Reading the message, I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Oh, fuck off, Vlad.”

Abe pulled up to a stop, clearly amused and interested in what the asshole had texted. “And what’s all that about?”

He rushed over to Vlad, and even as I tried to interpose myself between them so that Abe could suffer without reading the message, Vlad managed to lift his phone over my arm and shove it in Abe’s face.

Abe started to read the thing aloud, his words choppy as he dodged my strikes.

“Just be more quiet this time. I’m sick of hearing you bone. Ha!”

Having utterly lost this battle, I gave up, sighing as I walked to the exit. “I hate you both.”

“Whatever you say,” Abe yelled, “bone daddy!”

***

Finally, back home, I was glad to be done for the evening, and I wasted no time heading straight upstairs and to my bedroom. It was quiet as I came up the steep stairs, but then, in the distance, I heard the distinct sound of someone worshipping the porcelain throne.

Adley?

Hurrying up the remaining few steps, I got inside and shucked off my coat and boots. Sure enough, I heard the sound again and then the frailer noise of Adley moaning with discomfort.

“Ugh, make it stop,” I heard her mumble from the bathroom, and I padded over to see what was up.

I’d cooked last night, and if I’d given her food poisoning, I was about to feel like a real dickwad.

“Adley? What’s going on in there?”

The door to the private toilet room was closed, and I heard the thing flush and another low groan from Adley. In a few moments, the door opened, and she stepped out, looking worse for wear.

She glared up at me as she heaved in several breaths, and I was almost sure Adley was going to turn around and puke again until she shook her head and walked past me toward the bathroom counter.

“What’s going on in here, buddy, is your fucking fault.”

Adley’s tone was exhausted and annoyed, and I’d rarely heard her sound this snappy since she’d been living here. She hung her head over the sink, turning on the faucet to splash her face with cold water.

Another several seconds dragged on before she turned off the water and spun slowly around to face me. Her color was still off, but cooling herself down looked to have eased some of that nausea plaguing her.

“My fault?” My stomach dropped, and I could suddenly feel my heart beating in my chest. “Fuck, it was the food. Dammit, Adley. It hasn’t affected me or the guys. I didn’t think—shit. I’ll toss out whatever we have left.”

A dry, sarcastic chuckle left her, and Adley rolled her eyes. “You moron. It’s not the food.”

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