Page 40 of Innocent Bratva Virgin

“Ugh.”

Groaning from a few feet away caught my attention. I looked over to see Abe pulling himself up into a seat, his forehead bleeding where it must have hit the corner of the countertop. He blinked several times, and I hurried over to him, getting him the rest of the way up.

“The fucking hell?”

I snapped my fingers, trying to get his attention, and he glanced over at me with squinted eyes.

“W-What? Christ, my head hurts.”

Holding up two fingers, I put them right in front of my brother’s mug, raising my brows as I pointed between my hand and his eyes.

“I see two, asshole. I’m fine. Why the fuck were we on the floor, though?”

“I suspect we were gassed.” We both looked over at Ivan, who was pulling himself upright on the island. “The burnt copper smell in my nose supports as much anyway.”

Getting over to him, I looked him over. Ivan looked in better shape than Abe, and neither of them seemed particularly bad. We’d all fallen to the floor, but it was just a couple of bumps and bruises—nothing we couldn’t handle.

As Ivan steadied himself, he shook his head, and then his expression suddenly shifted into total panic.

“Adley! The baby!”

He took off at a dead sprint, and both Abe and I followed him up the stairs. The lingering chemical smell faded as we got higher in the house, but there was still no power out there, and it was pitch fucking black. There was no moon tonight so not even the plethora of windows was helping us.

The hard pounding of our steps shook the house as we rushed up the stairs, but as my brothers kept going until they hit the third floor, I ran down the hall to my room.

Emory was in there, and I just…

Something’s not right. And why the fuck aren’t we all just dead? I mean, hell, if it was the Italians, why didn’t they just kill us and be done with it?

I knew I shouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Still, this particular horse was giving serious Troy vibes, and I worried with every step that there was a trap inside just waiting to be sprung.

Racing down the hall, I reached my room and flung the door open. Emory wasn’t inside, not that I could see anyway, and when I went into the bathroom, she wasn’t there either. Ihurried back out and down the hall, checking every room or little corner of the second floor where she might be hiding.

Nothing.

From the attic stairs, I heard the drumbeat of rapid footsteps coming back down to the second floor. Looking over, Ivan and Abe were down first, and then Adley brought up the rear. Still no Emory, though.

Ivan was at my side in a flash, and he looked both ways down the hall that stretched across the second floor.

“Emory?”

I just shook my head.

“Dammit. We lucked out with Adley.” Ivan sounded genuinely shaken, and I glanced over at Adley, who was pulling up alongside him and threading her arm through his.

“I heard something. It was total luck, but it was just too weird, so I got up and locked the door. Grace never even woke up. She’s still sleeping.”

Ivan pulled Adley’s forehead toward him, kissing it. “Best damn luck we’ve had all day.”

Yeah, and I have a feeling there’s none left to spare.

Even Abe looked less than amused, which was his perpetual state of being. As he walked through the second floor, he clocked all the electronics that were out. Then he walked toward the library area where several books were fake and hid weapons. It looked like all of them were accounted for.

“It doesn’t look like they took anything. The weapons are accounted for here and upstairs Ivan said. I can’t see any trifling with our setups inside the house; it's just the absent power, and they left us alive. What’s this about?”

I grumbled, the sound low and quiet but still effectively giving voice to my frustration. The Italians had taken something. It just hadn’t been looted.

“What is it?” Adley asked, walking over from where she stood with Ivan to put a hand on my arm.

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