Page 20 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I roll my eyes, trying to pretend as though none of this had any effect on me. “Grow up, Tam.”

“You do,” Tamara laughs. “Admit it. You’re attracted to him.”

“I… I mean, he’s not unattractive—”

“Understatement of the year.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “We need to leave soon anyway.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tamara asks. “The night’s just getting started!”

“Which means Papa’s probably got his men scouring L.A. in search of us right now,” I tell her. “We should go.”

“I thought we were going to the bar?” Tamara pouts. She’s clearly not ready to leave yet.

Just then, she stumbles and turns her ankle in her four-inch stilettos, falling right into my arms with a squeal.

I catch her, thank goodness, but it’s a dead giveaway that the night should be over a lot sooner than she wants. She’s drank way more than I have and she’s starting to get a little sloppy.

“Okay,” I concede. “Let’s go to the bar.” My real plan is to get my cousin a tall drink of water, but she doesn’t have to know that just yet.

We fight our way to the bar, going through the dance floor, turning down offers to dance from a bunch of different men who grab us anyways as we pass.

I cringe away from their hands, but Tamara revels in it.

When we get to the bar, Tamara immediately orders two Moscow mules and then proceeds to flirt brazenly with the bartender.

I ignore her and turn to survey the crowd.

“Hey, sexy,” someone rumbles way too close to my ear.

I ignore the deep voice for a second. But the tap of a blunt finger on my shoulder is too intrusive to shrug off.

I turn and look at the man who has planted himself behind me. He’s huge and shaped like a boulder in a too-tight black t-shirt and overlarge veneers on his teeth.

Something about him makes my skin crawl.

So I just give him a tight,no thankssmile and turn my back on him with finality.

He doesn’t seem to get the message.

“How about I buy you a drink, doll?” Boulder Man bellows over the thundering music.

I glance at him and shake my head. “No, thank you,” I answer curtly. “My friend already bought our drinks.”

“Your friend is sloshed off her ass,” he says, leaning in a little. “How about we ditch the deadweight and have a little fun?”

“Good idea. If we’re ditching deadweight, then why don’t you fuck off and bother someone else?”

Safe to say that the onrush of sudden anxiety has made me a little feistier than usual.

This was a fun idea, a good idea… until it very much wasn’t anymore.

Now, all I can think about—once again—is Miguel.

It’s time to go home.

I don’t catch Boulder Man’s reaction, because just then, Tamara throws back a shot that I wasn’t aware she had ordered.

---