Page 25 of Brutal Promise

Someone will need to get the Lambo from the parking lot, especially since it belongs to a member of the bratva’s top men. I’ll let Kirill worry about those details. I’m glad those decisions are not up to me because Alena’s dad, Mikhail, will be pissed. I don’t want any issues between their bratva and ours.

As we continue to a side street, Izzy rambles on in shock. She stops walking when she realizes I haven’t said a word in three blocks.

It must be hard for her to look at me after I killed two men.

She turns to look at me, and for the first time, she sees the bloody sleeve of my jacket. “Oh my God, he shot you!”

She cries out and pushes my torn jacket away from the wound, observing the red, gaping hole in my arm.

I’m used to getting hurt. I’m not used to seeing the anguish in Izzy’s eyes. Heaviness weighs on my chest like a cement block. I’m lost in her, her essence, the way she moves, the way she talks too much, the way sex is more than just fucking. I’d die if anyone hurt her.

Her body and spirit belong to me. She has no idea how deeply she’s involved in my world. All I know is that she’s never leaving it. She’s the air I breathe. She’s light to my darkness.

“You are mine, and anyone who touches you dies.” Our eyes meet, and even with a gunshot wound, I want to kiss her lush lips and fuck her tight pussy until she begs for more.

10

IZZY

What the city lacks in trees, it more than makes up for in cars. They whiz by, going well over the speed limit and blowing through red lights. One takes their life in their own hands getting behind the wheel of a car here.

“We should have taken the subway. It’s faster,” I comment while looking at his bleeding arm, wishing I could make it better.

He’s tough. I’m sure he’s been through worse. He'll say I'm overreacting if I fuss or worry too much.

“And go where, exactly?” he asks, his dark eyes showing the strength and resolve of a battle-hardened soldier. “I can’t walk around with a gaping hole, leaving a trail of blood like a bull in a bullfight,” Dmitry says with growing frustration. He’s cranky. One could argue he has reason to be considering the gaping hole in his arm.

I’ve heard it said it takes two years to figure out your partner, but with Dmitry, it’s been less than two days. He never expresses himself and only speaks when he has something to say. He must be clever if he’s been in the bratva his entire life because you don’t last that long if you don’t do your job well.

At least all this excitement has taken my mind off the pulsing at the apex of my thighs. I’m yearning for him to fuck me again. He’s so large. I thought he would split my pussy in half.

When he took me from behind, he was balls deep inside me, literally. He pounded me so hard his balls were slapping my flesh. He was rough, and I liked it. The pleasure was mixed with pain due to his size and how deeply he was thrusting, but it took me to another world I didn’t know existed. I screamed bloody murder when he told me to come. I’d never had a man order me to come, but I liked how it added an element of excitement.

“I’m too young for prison. I’ll never make it.” I worry out loud as if I pulled the trigger myself.

“They were going to hurt you, and the world is better without them. Remember that!”

Dmitry slayed them for me. Granted, they had a gun on him, but he risked his life for mine. I wonder if that’s something I need to put on my list of requirements if a man wants to date me. Now I’m being dramatic. I blame my glib humor on the shock of witnessing such a violent act.

I’m not upset they’re dead, and they got what they deserved. Maybe vigilante justice isn’t such a terrible thing after all. How dare they grab an innocent woman off the street? And yet, I know it happens all the time with unfavorable results. What would have happened if Dmitry hadn’t been with me?

“I think it’s clear I’m the target, not Alena,” I say, spitballing my thoughts and ignoring his dour mood.

If he wasn’t with me today, I might not be here to complain about our predicament.

“Neither looked like the guy stalking me the other day or the man in the bar.”

Dmitry is quiet, and I wait for him to say something. If I talk too much, he’s guilty of not talking enough. Everyone has secrets, but this is carrying it a bit far, especially considering I’m part of what just happened.

“So, still no idea who wants you?” he asks.

I shake my headnoand give him a blank stare.

Dmitry stands when he sees Kirill’s car whip around a corner and immediately straightens his spine. I can see him wince in pain when he moves his arm.

“Where can you get that looked at?”

“We’ll see.”

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