Page 36 of Innocent Bratva Virgin

“Oh, I suppose I should charge it, yeah. Thanks.”

Emory reached into the slim pocket of her leggings and pulled out her cell, plugging it in so the battery wouldn’t dieovernight. There was also a pad of paper and a pen on the nightstand. I used them to jot down my thoughts or questions for my brothers that could wait until morning.

Right now, it was empty, so when Emory picked it up, I was relieved that there was nothing for her to find.

“I have a notepad like this for during sessions.”

The comment was off-handed, and Emory didn’t seem to be really paying attention to what she said or where she was. Her tiredness was definitely getting to her.

“Are you really going to kill those men tracking us?”

My stomach clenched as she looked up at me from staring at the paper. Emory handed the thing to me, along with the pen. I sighed as I took it. She already knew the answer, and I wasn’t keen on having another drawn-out argument about this—especially via paper.

Still…

I scribbled a response, holding up the notepad for Emory to read.

“It’s how it’s done in my world. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but they will keep coming if they’re not dealt with. I’m positive. Staying here while my brothers and I deal with it will be the best option. You won’t be safe out there with me or at your place.”

She scoffed as she finished reading my message, and then Emory pulled her knees up against her chest. It was a nervous habit of hers, an attempt to shield herself from the situation.

“Yeah, I’m not looking to go out there with you while you have a shootout with a bunch of Italian mafia guys. No thanks. I just wish there was a less violent solution. And yeah, I get what you’re saying, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The room hung in silence, and I dropped the paper pad to the bed. Neither one of us was budging on this one, and it looked like we were both shit at compromise—at least right now. I had a feeling that Emory was probably much more flexible when it came to stuff thatdidn’tinvolve breaking the law.

“And you know, I still don’t know why I can’t just go to a friend’s place or something. Yeah, I know it can’t be somewhere like my parents, but what about…I don’t know, Antoinette’s? Who’d look for me there?”

So we’re not done talking about this then.

Snagging the paper and pen again, I hastily wrote a reply to her questions. I understood, on some intellectual, common-sense level, that she had a right to ask, to know the ins and outs of the situation. But every other part of me was just annoyed that I needed to explain all this.

Most of the time, I wasn’t the brains behind the operation, and I wasn’t used to having to run every plan or decision by someone else. Chronically single was the name of the game, and this concept of deliberating with a “partner” was a hard pill to swallow.

Not that Emory’s my partner or girlfriend or anything of the sort.

Passing over the notepad to Emory, I stood up off the bed while she read it over.

“I personally don’t want to risk you or someone else because you decided to stay somewhere the Italians might look. And yeah, they might look here, but at least you’ll be in a house with three men capable of handling whatever they dish out. I’m feeling a little stir-crazy, though, so I’m going downstairs. Stay put.”

I wasn’t looking back at Emory as I moved toward the door, but I could hear her scoff under her breath. Rolling my eyes to myself, I shook my head just slightly. I was aware that I’d probably piss her off with the end of that note, but I didn’t really care right now. I was trying to help her, for fuck’s sake, and the least she could do was just trust me about this since I was the expert this time.

“Sure,youget to leave,” Emory grumbled under her breath, but I didn’t pay it any mind, way too intent on getting downstairs and out of the conversation.

But when I got there, I was less than thrilled to see that Ivan and Abe were both still up and talking about what to do regarding the Italians in the living room. Grace and Adley were long gone, which meant I had the joy of dealing with my brothers without the “baby buffer.”

I’m not a kid person, but damn, she does keep those two from flipping out as much.

I had nearly snuck back up to the second floor to hang out in the library area when Ivan chimed up.

“Hey, not so fast. Get down here.”

Sighing, I hung my head, realizing I had little choice but to listen to him.Fucking older brothers and their bullshit.

Walking over, I took up a spot leaning against one of the thick support beams in the glass walls. They separated the panels and helped to hold up the entire house.

“I have to say, Vlad,” Ivan started, “I’m fucking shocked that you actually brought your shrink back to the house. I thought you didn’t like her and weren’t going to go anymore.”

Ivan was leaving me with few options when it came to communicating with him. He knew I’d lost my damn phone, and it wasn’t like the house was littered with pads of paper.

---