Page 96 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

“Why?”

“Just asking?”

Mills checks his watch. “Just past noon.”

“Okay.” She glances back at me. “Leo Sokolov took Anya home where she belongs. By now, they’re far away from here and out of your reach. Like I said, someday, you’ll understand. Bloodshed was avoided today.”

Chance curses under his breath. “Fuck.”

“There’s no way that plane is landing where it’s supposed to land as per the flight log,” Booker adds, a deep frown casting a shadow over his eyes. “We need to find her, Nico.”

“So, let me get this straight,” I say ad exhale sharply, my attention on a softening Breonna. I think, in her delusion, the true gravity of her actions is finally starting to sink in. “You helped Anya leave the lodge and get away from us because you both knew we wouldn’t let her leave.”

“Yes.”

“And you drove her to Missoula. Got her a ticket on a plane and sent her off with Leo Sokolov? The man who butchered her family? Whose brother tried to kill her twice here in town?”

“When you put it like that—”

“There’s no other way to put it!” I snap. “You betrayed Anya. You betrayed me, my brothers, and this whole fucking town. Leo Sokolov is a dangerous Russian mobster, and you sent Anya off to slaughter while pregnant withmychild!”

Breonna quivers in her boots and sits down. “I did it for you.”

“You did it for yourself,” I hiss, rage burning through me. “You did it for yourself because you thought that once enough time passed, I would forget about her and welcome you back into my bed, make you a part of my life. That’s never going to happen, Breonna. I would rather eat a bucket of rusty nails; I would rather saw my own arm off than ever even consider touching you again.”

She gives me a hurt look. “You don’t mean that.”

“You’re going to rot in prison for what you did, you fucking snake,” Chance growls and punches the wall.

“Nico, what the hell are you going to do?” Mills asks me in a low voice.

“We’re going to find Anya,” I reply. “There’s no other choice.”

I just need to figure out how the fuck we’re going to do that.

27

Booker

Ahint of Anya’s shampoo lingers on my sweatshirt from earlier this morning. I take deep breaths, terrified I’ll forget what she smells like, that the day will come when I won’t even remember her face.

I shake the thoughts away as I follow my brothers into the FBI’s Missoula Field Office building, but other thoughts come up to stretch my nerves beyond their limits.

“Agent Pruitt is expecting us,” Nico tells the lady at the front desk.

She looks at each of us with curious eyes, likely surprised by our sheer size. “Of course. First floor, third door on the left,” she replies. “I’ll let him know you’re on your way up.”

“Thank you,” Nico says.

Chance and I flank him as we ascend the main stairs, passing federal employees along the way. I feel out of place here. My jeans, heavy-duty boots, and thick winter jacket stand out against this sea of dark suits, crisp shirts, and polished shoes.

“I just hope he understands the urgency of the situation,” Chance mutters.

Nico pats his coat jacket. “He’ll understand anything we need him to understand with what we’re giving him.”

“I would’ve liked more time to retrieve the rest of the documents on that drive.”

“He’s got enough to get an investigation rolling,” I say, “more than enough.”

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