Page 41 of Royally Embraced: RBMC

Jeter turned to look out the back again. Frankie cursed and wrenched the SUV toward the shoulder on their right. Their vehicle jerked up and down as they went over a curb. However, the sound of bullets had stopped. He kept Jeter locked to him, between the hulk of Andre and his body, hoping they could protect her.

“If we get out of this alive, I’m never, ever, riding inside a vehicle again,” she gasped.

He hated being locked in a cage, too. “When I take you to California, we’ll only ride on my bike. You, me, and the open road with the wind—”

The entire vehicle lurched to the side. Jeter felt Tori fly from his arms as they went on two wheels before rocking back onto four. Andre grunted, the sound of pain leaving the man.

Jeter twisted his body, putting his back to the window as lights flashed on their side. A sickening crunch slammed into the passenger door. Tori’s body whipped out of his arms into Andre’s. Her scream filled the interior as the big engine roared, and Kendrick shouted for Frankie to get going.

Andre’s huge hands covered Tori’s head, protecting her from damage. The other held her securely in the seat against his huge-ass frame.

Frankie weaved like a racecar driver through streets like he had them mapped in his head. They turned, stopped, backed up, and then spun on a dime into a garage that he'd have missed if Jeter hadn’t been watching.

“We’re clear, boss.” Frankie put the SUV in park.

Kendrick palmed the other man’s neck. His other hand tapped his cheek. “You did damn good, kid. Go get cleaned up.”

“How many were following us?” Jeter asked, taking Tori from Andre.

“Three jacked-up trucks and two SUVs and one fast fucking car. What is it about you that makes you so damn special, Vittoria?” Kendrick asked.

“Back the fuck off, Kendrick,” Jeter warned his brother.

They stared each other down, both unwilling to give in.

“Stop it. Both of you. I have no motherfucking clue what the hell is going on. Honestly, I have had no contact with my stepfamily in four glorious years. I’ve told Jeter my poor woe is me story, and I have no problem reiterating it to you. I only ask you to let me get out of this squished can and clean up. You canhave someone watch me as I do it and keep hold of all my things. I truly have nowhere to go.”

Her lip trembled, and he hated seeing her break. He’d rather smash his brother’s face in and get into an all-out brawl with him than watch her suffer.

“I’m sorry, sorellina. The two of you need to clean up, and then I’ll have my physician look at each of you. No way could I rest at night with the thought of you injured under my watch.”

Jeter rolled his eyes so hard he thought for sure he’d need to climb in the backseat to retrieve them. However, Kendrick exited the vehicle and barked orders out as he did.

“You will need to get out on this side, I’m sure,” Andre informed them.

They follow Andre and two other men through the garage into a mudroom. Jeter looks at the shoes lying haphazardly on the ground. His brother had always insisted on everyone removing their shoes when they entered his home. Well, he could shit in one hand and wish in the other. Jeter guaranteed he'd end up with more shit than he would of wishes if he waited for him to run around in his bare feet.

The heavy thud of boots brought his head up to see Kendrick, with a smirk on his face, standing at the end of the hallway. “Come on in, asshole. You can leave your filthy shoes on.”

Jeter hugged Tori to his right side instead of his left. Unsure how much damage he’d taken in the accident, he wanted to have his best shooting arm free.

After they cleaned up, he and Tori entered the den, where Kendrick and his men sat around. An older man stood up as they entered.

“Hello. You must be Jeter. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Dr. Talbert. And you must be his friend. This one doesn’t have friends.” Dr. Talbert winked down at Tori.

TORI TOOK THE HANDDr. Talbert held out to her. In the bathroom, Jeter made her strip so he could see for himself what her body looked like. He said he had intimate knowledge of every inch of her skin and would know if she had a bruise that wasn’t there earlier. Her body shivered, thinking about how sweet he’d been as he’d kissed each tiny scrape, cut, and blemish.

“Are you cold, dear?” the doctor asked.

“No. I'm fine.” She shook her head. Good lord, Tori, get your mind out of the gutter. Luckily for her, Jeter hadn’t insisted on making love to her, even when she’d nearly begged.

“Would you like to go into the study so I can examine you without an audience?” he asked.

She grabbed Jeter’s hand. “We will come together.”

“Of course.”

There was no missing the way Jeter and Kendrick acted together. It was actually kind of endearing. Watching the big, scary Mafia leader sit in his leather chair with one leg dangling over an arm as she slumped in the seat, she thought he looked more like an adolescent chilling with his friends. Even more shocking was seeing him and Jeter roll their eyes and flip one another off. Fucking cute.

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