Page 63 of Bratva Butcher

I should have taken that as the warning sign it was.

She stomped down on the top of my foot with the heel of her own. Pain shot up my leg, and I winced. She pushed my hand away from her, stepped forward until she was right in my space, standing nose-to-nose with me, and then jabbed her finger into my chest.

“You want me to talk to you instead?Fine. I don’t know your kids personally, but if they’re anything like you, I’m willing to bet they’d do just about anything to save someone they love.”

My jaw clenched as she jabbed me in the chest again.

“Why the fuck are you having a go at him whenyouwould have done the exact same thing in his position?”

“Do you have children?”

She was silent for a moment. “No.”

“Well, until you do, you have no right to comment on my parenting.”

“I can comment on whatever I want to comment on. It’s a free country, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m very vocal about my opinions.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” I scoffed. “And that’s part of the problem. You voice your opinions even when no one fucking asked for them.”

She cocked her head. “Aw, and here I thought that was one of the things you liked most about me.”

“I don’t likeanythingabout you,” I growled behind gritted teeth.

“Reallyyyy,” she dragged out, a smirk on her lips. Her eyes flicked down and back up again quickly. “I think there’s one thing you like about me.”

I didn’t bother looking down because I knew exactly what she was referring to. I was rock fucking hard, getting harder and harder the more we argued.

I didn’t realise until right at that moment that fighting with her turned me on.

A lot.

Well, two can play at that game.

I stood taller, not shying away or trying to hide what was going on. I didn’t want her to think I was uncomfortable and that she had the upper hand. “Should we revisit your little dream from last night?”

Her face turned bright red. I took a mental picture, wanting to remember that moment forever. It was fucking priceless.

“I’m sick of your shit!” she shouted.

“I’msick ofyourshit!” I shouted back.

“Oh, you know what—”

“Ahem, ahem,”Aleksandr cleared his throat loudly. Autumn and I both looked at him. His gaze ping-ponged between the twoof us, incomprehension in his eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head, that intuition I’d always praised him for working double time. He studied our faces, how close we were standing next to each other…

Shit. We’re so close, our chests are practically pressed right up against each other.

I shoved her away quickly, an almost erratic edge to my movements like I was some sort of teenager who’d just been caught by their parents with a girl in their bedroom.

Admittedly, I might have pushed a little too hard because she went flying, landing roughly on her ass.

“You dickhead,” she hissed under her breath, but she made no move to retaliate.

At first, I was confused. Autumn never passed up the opportunity to hit me. What I saw in her eyes wiped away any confusion.

Understanding.

She knew the reason I shoved her away was because my son was staring at us with that questioning look on his face. Her gaze flitted back and forth between me and Aleksandr. She grumbled while she got to her feet, went to her cot and sat down with her back to me, facing the wall.

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