Page 53 of Taming Mika

“I know, boss. I’m sorry.”

“Just get Mika inside the house and tighten down the perimeter. Focus our forces on the main house and barn—the stable hands who stayed can sleep in the house as well tonight. Set up shifts—I want eyes in every direction at all times tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good.” I end the call through the car’s speakers and take the exit, heading toward an open field of rippling grass where Salvatore’s setting down. “You can drive the rest of the way up,” I tell Vincent, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Sure thing, boss.” My bodyguard looks a lot more relaxed at my current speed and the prospect of finishing the drive at a more reasonable pace.

It doesn’t take long to cross the field to where the chopper’s waiting, and I keep my head low to stay clear of the propellers as I board while they’re still running. Then we’re off, heading north over the deep green canopies of trees and the bright patches of grass and sprawling farms. The trip that would have taken nearly an hour by car is over in just a fraction of that time, and the iron grip on my chest starts to ease as the massive, whitewashed barn comes into view.

Salvatore sets down on the landing pad I had installed in the south pasture, and an SUV is already waiting to drive me up to the barn. Before I even reach the impressive structure, I can see the destruction Nikolai’s men caused. The pristine wood slats have been riddled with bullet holes—dark scorch marks pocking the white face.A crimson stain darkens the center of the red gravel drive. It’s large enough that I know that’s the exact spot where Mika’s transporter, Joel, died. White-hot fury licks up my spine at what Nikolai did—all because things didn’t go his way on our agreement. I know Mika well enough now to be certain she’ll carry that death on her shoulders, and in all the confirmations I’ve received that she’s safe and unharmed, no one’s given me any details about how she’s handling the violence this time. I guess I can assume she hasn’t gone into shock and fainted, but the tension in my gut is nearly unbearable by the time the car rolls to a stop.

Several of my men exit the barn as soon as I climb out, their expressions drawn and serious.

“Where’s Ottavio?” I demand, though my eyes scan for a glimpse of Mika’s gold curls.

“Down at the workers’ cottages,” Daniel states, gesturing toward them.

My head snaps in his direction as I glare. “Why?”

“Miss Harper refused to come to the main house, so he took as many men as we could spare—” He stops short as he reads the look on my face, and I turn without a word back toward the Escalade.

Damn it, Mika.I told her to stay near the barn—to go no farther than the racetrack—and after everything that’s happened, she refused to obey me and the men I put here to protect her. She’s stubborn beyond reason, reckless, infuriating—but underneath my frustration, I have this sinking feeling in my gut telling me that she’s trying to run.

I don’t wait for the driver to put the vehicle in park as we pull up outside Mika’s house. Throwing open the passenger door, I jump out and storm toward the modest red-brick ranch-style house. One of the men, Ottavio, stationed at the front door, swings it open for me without a word. The living room has five more guards standing watch, and they all straighten respectfully as I enter.

I barely take in the simple farm-style decor in Mika’s home, I’m so furious. “Where is she?” I demand as soon as I’m sure she’s not in the main living area.

Several fingers point down the hallway, and I follow the silent direction, passing two more men before I find Ottavio standing sentry at the entrance to Mika’s bedroom. His stormy expression shifts to apprehension as our eyes meet.

“Boss, I?—”

“Everyone out. I need to speak with Mika alone,” I say, my eyes falling on her turned back.

She stiffens, freezing for just a second as she leans over the bed—packing a suitcase that sits open and half-full. Ottavio gives a curt nod and leaves without another word. I stand in the doorway, watching until the sound of boots fades and the front door closes with a heavy thud. Swiftly wiping at her cheeks, Mika keeps her back turned to me as she walks to her dresser for another stack of clothes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I growl, entering her room.

Like the rest of the house, it’s decorated sparingly—clean and generic with foxhunting prints on the walls and sturdy oak furniture. The sheets are simple and white, and judging by the lack of personal items, I would guess the room came furnished, and Mika didn’t feel the need to personalize the space. I imagine that’s because she spends all her waking hours at the barn—her office is where she keeps her memories, photos of the horses she’s trained, and things like that. Still, the space is just big enough to accommodate the furniture, and when I stop in front of Mika, I automatically block her path back to the dresser.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She keeps her eyes down, focused on her suitcase as she folds and stacks her clothes. The tip of her nose is pink, and now that I’m closer, I can hear her sniffling.

“Mika.”

She doesn’t stop or even glance my way, and I dig deep for patience, though I’m tempted to grab the suitcase and toss it to undo her work.

“Mika.” Closing the distance between us, I grasp her jaw, turning her face and lifting her chin so she has to look at me.

My heart wrenches at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, theshimmering sadness in her eyes, and she glares up at me as she drops the rest of the clothes into her bag without looking.

“What, Alfie? What do you want?”

A sharp sob rips from her throat, and I’m sorely tempted to pull her into my arms and comfort her, but I don’t.

“I want an explanation for why you disobeyed meagain.” I force a sense of calm into my voice that I don’t feel as I lean in closer, bringing my face to eye level with her.

“I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore.” Mika grasps my hand with both of hers, removing it from her chin as she takes a step back.

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