Page 5 of My Pucking Family

Focus Leera.

Do it again.

I’m able to recreate the twitch in my foot. I focus all my energy on that one limb. If I can start there, maybe I can work my way up my body and bring my motion back.

All of a sudden, my leg doesn't just twitch, it flies forward, connecting hard with something, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my shin. I can't open my eyes to see what I hit. I can't even cry out.

That's when I notice the sound of shuffled footsteps approaching me. My leg kicking…whatever I kicked…must have alerted my captors.

Please go away! Leave me alone.

I want to scream and fight, but my body just can't.

What kind of drug did they give me?

How do I fight this?

My leg twitches one more time before I again feel the now familiar prick of a needle in my neck as the world fades away, and this time, I don't fight the darkness.

5

As I pull my car into the garage level of our building, I approach my parking spot, and I'm immediately ready to murder someone again. Preferably the person standing in front of my spot. She's standing there with her hands on her hips, like I've inconvenienced her by making her wait for something.

I throw the car into park and barrel out of my seat, slamming the door for good measure.

“What the fuck are you doing here, India?!” I roar, but she doesn't even flinch. She's just staring at me. It's not sweet, but it's not evil either. She's strangely impassive.

“I came to watch your game. I'm trying to be more active and supportive. And what do I find, Roman? You making heart eyes at some human bitch?” It takes every ounce of willpower Ipossess not to lay her out, but she's not done yet, and her voice changes to something I don't know that I've ever heard. She sounds almost…real.

“Look, I know I've never been your favorite person. I know I haven't lived my life in the best light. I know you'll never love me, but the King chose us. He chose us to lead our people. I'm taking that responsibility seriously. I’m trying to change. But walking in and seeing that last night…”

Is this really happening to me?!

“…I'm sorry for my attitude, okay. Just give me a chance for us to try to do this right.”

I can't even think right now. While I no longer want to lay her out, I also can't tell her right now that there isn't, and never will be, an us. I want to scream it from the rooftops that I don't care about the crown and the responsibility to our people. I don't care about any of it. I need to find my fucking mate, and that's it for me. She's it for me.

“India, I appreciate the sentiment. I really do, and I'm proud of you for trying to change. But I really can't talk about this right now,” I growl. “Something has come up, and I have to get upstairs to the men. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk, okay?”

I swear, a small look of triumph crosses her features for a fleeting moment, but I chalk it up to me not raging at her and throwing her out on her ass. She thinks I took the bait. I'm also proud of myself for my response. She has no idea what's going on.

She nods and touches my arm. I want to flinch. My wolf is snarling at her. But I force myself to remain completely still. “I'm here for you, Roman. Let me know when you're ready to talk, and I'll be here.” She definitely thinks she won. She pats my arm and turns on her heels, swaying her hips as she walksaway, obviously hoping I’m watching her for reasons other than making sure she leaves. Just as she reaches her car, she opens the door, turns, and gives me a small smile and wave before setting herself into the seat and closing the door.

As soon as she's out of sight, I sprint to the elevator door and catch the men up on the encounter through our mind link as I ride up to the main level.

I burst through the door and find them all waiting by the massive kitchen island, right where I'd hoped they'd be.

“Alright, report. Do we have anything?” I ask, already knowing the answer. If they had anything, they would have already told me through our mind link. I didn't block them out, so I would have heard anything.

The only answers I get are shaking heads and somber faces.

“FUCK!” I roar, slamming the door so hard it splinters.

I tear into the kitchen and start destroying anything that I can reach. Ripping glass plates out of the cabinets to crash them to the ground. Just to feel something. Anything. Blind rage will have to do for now. My men let me continue my rampage through half of the kitchen before I'm being sprayed with cold water.

Still lost in the fury, I turn around with every intention of murdering whoever is responsible.

Instead, I'm now being sprayed in the face with a steady stream of ice cold water. It's hitting me square between the eyes, so I can't even see who I want to kill.

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