Page 22 of Dark Bratva Christmas
I get on the road and zoom between cars, not caring about my own safety in the slightest. The only thing on my mind is the promise I made to my brother.
And I can't protect Catarina if she's not with me.
Escaping like this is dangerous for a myriad of reasons. Not only is she probably malnourished from refusing to eat for so long, but it's fucking cold and I doubt she's prepared for that.
On top of that, there's been radio silence from all sides since the wedding three weeks ago. I have no idea where the threat is coming from. No one is showing their cards right now, and that’s more unsettling than all-out war.
That's not even mentioning how dangerous it is for a woman to be alone in the dark, in the quiet suburb. Just the thought of some greasy old man spotting her and taking advantage of her feeds the flame in my chest.
Don’t let your mind go there,I warn myself. Besides, it’s not my problem what the fuck happens to her. She’s the one who chose to leave.
But still, if I have to knock down every damned door in Kings Point to find her, I will. And anyone helping her with this foolish escape attempt will have hell to pay.
Delayed hell, because by the time I get to Kings Point, the sun has completely set and the only light around is from the city across the water.
I detour through Kings Point Park, where Jed told me it looked like she was heading.
I don't see anybody walking their dog or taking a late night stroll, probably all content to stay inside and watch Christmas movies while drinking eggnog.Fucking weirdos.
And then I see the pale figure running barefoot out of the woods toward the path.
Ah, there’s my ogonyok(Little Flame), and she’s coming right for me.
She’s waving her little arms in my direction. I almost laugh at the irony as I hit the brakes and skid to a stop, angling myself on the bike to keep it from flipping.
“Help!” Catarina cries behind me, running in my direction. I sit on my bike, my helmet still in place, and watch her with a mixture of anger and relief settling in my stomach. “I’ve been trapped in a–”
I take my helmet off, and she freezes mid-sentence. The fear in her eyes cuts through the moonlight, and she lets out a sharp exhale.
Gotcha.
All she's wearing is a pair of loose-fitting pajama shorts and one of Mikhail’s oversized sweaters she's refused to part with. Even after running through the woods for God only knows how long, she looks damn incredible, her hair messy and eyes wide.
“Go on. Finish the sentence,” I smirk.
She doesn't move as I climb off my bike and storm closer, standing inches away from her. Catarina refuses to look at me. She focuses on my chest with a hard look in her eyes.
“You fucking asshole,” Catarina snaps, as her voice shakes with each word. I can’t decide if it’s anger or the cold. Or maybe both.
I almost say something. But then I think about everything that could've gone wrong. I think about all the people who want medead, who would harm her just to get to me. I think of all the sick fucks who could’ve seen a young woman like her and done the unthinkable. My blood boils. I breathe heavily, my breath fogging the air around us like smoke.
And she might be carrying my child.
It awakens a whole new monster in me.
I grab her arm tight in my hand and drag her toward my bike. She stumbles and has to jog to keep my pace while she tries to pull her arm away. Eventually, I let her wiggle her arm free.
“Why can't you just let me go?” Catarina shouts. “I don’t want to be trapped with you! I can’t fucking stand to think that youtouchedme.”
I whip my head around to look at her and see tears streaming down her face, disgust etched in the corner of her mouth. It’s clearer than ever that she hates me, and I don’t know why this fucking bothers me. I hate her, too.
“You said that you don't want this either,” she continues, her voice still trembling. “Just say that I escaped.”
I burst into a wicked laughter, mocking her as I tower over her. “And what would you do? Where the hell would you go, Catarina? Hmm?”
“Anywhere but here.” She crosses her arms in front of her, and her eyes finally meet mine. “I’d rather live out of a trash can than have to be in the same vicinity as you.”
I shrug. “Well, I can arrange for you to live out of garbage, if that’s what you desire.”
