Page 141 of Inked Adonis

I swallow down the bile inching up my throat. “And Nova?”

“Inside, too, we think.” Myles scrubs at the back of his head. “Sam, I watched the video. I saw?—”

“I know what you saw.”

My in-flight entertainment on the journey from Moscow was that video on a constant loop. Again and again and again, I watched it, dissecting every moment, looking for some sign that it was doctored. Some hint of why Nova would be with her father. Why she would betray me.

“What’s the play, then?” asks Myles.

I pull out my gun and check to ensure the magazine is loaded. “We move in.”

Myles grabs my shoulder, pulling me to a stop. “You’re gonna walk in there guns blazing?That’sthe plan?”

“I want this shit over with,” I growl. “Now. Not later.”

I want Nova away from my brother.

I want to see her alive and breathing.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt fear like this. But realizing Nova was in the hands of my brother—all my power, my connections, my money and skill, didn’t mean a damn thing. They were useless to me.

I need her back in my possession so I can think straight.

I’ll deal with the rest once she’s safe.

“Are you worried we can’t take them?” I ask.

Myles stiffens. “No, but?—”

“Good. Then shoot first and ask questions later.”

With a sigh and a mutter of something I don’t care to decipher, he reluctantly follows me towards the dealership. The men he arrived with fall into step behind us. A storm of Bratva firepower, coming to fuck up my brother beyond all recognition.

I intend to do the most damage myself.

I’m the first one through the unlocked side door. Sneaking in on silent feet, I follow raised voices to the back of the dealership where the body shop used to be. The air smells musty, mechanical. Dust stirs in the wake of every footstep.

The weight of my Glock is familiar in my palm. The hunger for violence even more so.

I inch down a hallway until I see a group of men clustered around a tabletop balanced on a transmission jack. They’re playing cards, so lost in the game that no one is watching the door.

Myles and I exchange a glance.

We could’ve blown through the front windows and these fuck-ups still wouldn’t have known they’d been infiltrated.

The men are deep into a heated argument, one of them screaming about playing another round. I want to tell him to save his breath. In a few seconds, the last thing on his mind will be this losing hand.

But he doesn’t deserve the mercy of a dignified end to his life. Let him bleed out over a mismatched pair of jacks and threes.

I round the corner and let my bullets fly.

Two men are down by the time Myles joins me in the doorway and takes down another. Their blood is already seeping into the cement floor before their comrades get their attention oriented in the right direction. I waste no time in putting the other idiots out of their misery.

It’s over as quick as it began. Gunsmoke and cement dust spiral up in the air, making the silence all the more apparent.

“‘Shoot first, no one left to ask questions to,’” Myles quips under his breath. “Looks like that was everyone.”

I don’t admit that I might have been a little hasty. That I let the bloodlust get to me.

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