Page 6 of Sins He Taught Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 3)

“Look at me,” I demand. His head slumps forward and he starts to close his eyes. I slap him hard, startling him. “Look at me, brother. You’re not going anywhere. You have to take care of Brianne and Nikolas. Your son, Nikolas! You remember Niko, yeah? You’re going to see them both soon, okay?”

Dmitry opens his mouth, but a piercing shriek from behind me echoes off the metal walls before he can speak.

I recognize the voice. It’s Brianne. She’s screaming at someone to get off of her, to leave her alone.

Shit. I put Dmitry’s hand on top of my jacket. “Keep applying pressure,” I order.

He nods weakly.Then I stand up and take off after the sound of my brother’s wife.

I burst around the corner of a large metal structure into the open area at the center of the warehouse.

At the opposite end, I see Brianne and some hooded figure struggling. I know it’s her; her blonde hair flashes in what little moonlight comes streaming through the high windows.

“Help me!” she screams.

“Stop!” I shout. The man roughing her up spins around. He’s wearing a ski mask and a hoodie pulled low over his face, so I can’t see what he looks like. But those eyes are drinking me in. I know that he’s watching me. He looks panicked as he shoves Brianne back and pulls the gun from his hip.

The separation between them is enough for me. I squeeze two shots off at him, but he dives out of the way, hiding behind a large storage container.

Brianne takes off running towards me, arms outstretched. “Here!” I tell her. I reach for her. She’s almost safe. So close. So… fucking… close…

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man stand and fire twice.

“No!”

He’s not aiming at me.

A millisecond later, Brianne collapses to the floor with a sickening thud.

“No!” I roar again. “No, no, no!”

I resist the urge to run to her. That’s what he wants. He wants me to take the bait.

Instead, I bury down the rage and use my gun, firing an entire clip where he stands. He shoots blindly in my direction, missing badly, as he runs to the back door.

Before he can get away, I take aim one more time and fire. The bullet just barely grazes him on the leg.

He howls in pain, stumbles. He pulls something from his pocket, fumbling with it. I can’t tell what it is at first, but just as I’m figuring it out, I see him press the button on the top.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I turn and start to sprint for the exit.

I’m almost out.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen.

Ten.

Five.

There’s silence, a small window where nothing happens.

Then, what seems like the entire world erupts.

The bastard had the place rigged with bombs.

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