Page 61 of Mountain Daddy

His eyes go wide. “Who the fuck are?—”

I press harder. Cut off his air.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes,” he gasps. “I swear to God, she's my cousin.”

I study his face. Looking for lies.

Find none.

“She Bratva?”

“No. Never. She doesn't know shit about the business.”

I believe him. Can hear the truth in his voice. The desperation.

But then Dmitri laughs.

And I know that sound.

It's the sound of men who’ve done unspeakable things and never paid the price.

Not yet.

“Well, well. Another knight in shining armor. How sweet.”

I release the cousin. Turn to face the real threat.

Dmitri's got his gun out now. Pointed at my chest.

“You picked the wrong alley, friend.”

“Did I?”

My smile makes him nervous. Good.

“You know what I think?” Dmitri's getting chatty. Bad sign. “I think small-town girls are the best kind. Sweet. Innocent. Easy to move.”

The words hit like gasoline on a fire.

“They trust so easily,” he continues. “Believe anything you tell them. Perfect for overseas clients who like their merchandise unspoiled.”

Red.

Everything goes red.

The gun doesn't matter. The alley doesn't matter. Nothing matters except the rage burning through my veins.

I move.

Fast. Brutal. Unforgiving.

The gun flies from Dmitri's hand before he can pull the trigger. My fist connects with his jaw, snaps his head back like a rag doll.

He stumbles. Tries to regain balance.

I don't let him.

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