Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

“Shit. Look, I know it’s late, but you’re not still out, are you? I really need that phone.”

“Got a hot date tomorrow?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Boyfriend calling in the morning?”

“No boyfriend. That was very subtle, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m still out if you want me to bring it over.”

She hesitated. “No, I’ll meet you somewhere. Seventh and South Street.”

Smart girl. Even late at night, South Street was lit up bright and lots of people would be around, and it wasn’t too far from her apartment.

“See you there. I’m leaving right now.”

I hung up the phone, shoved it in my pocket, and stood up.

Shaggs caught my eye. “Keep your nose clean.”

“Always do.” I waved then hit the street and got walking.

I made it before her. I stood outside of a cash checking joint with metal grates over the windows. A small gaggle of drunk girls in heels stomped by laughing too loudly followed by a slightly larger gaggle of drunk guys smoking cigarettes. I stretched my neck then stepped forward and spotted Fiona hurrying toward me.

She wore jeans and a sweatshirt. Which was a shame, really. I was hoping for pajamas.

She smiled uncertainly and stopped a few feet away as I stepped back into the shadows around the check cashing shop. She came nearer, into the darkness.

“Thanks for meeting me. I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without that stupid phone.” She held out her hand.

I raised the phone. “Screen’s cracked to hell, you know. You should take better care of your things.”

Her face darkened. “Can you just give it back to me?”

I held it out. She reached to grab it.

I caught her wrist faster than she could react and pulled her into me.

She sucked in a breath, but didn’t have time to scream as I turned her and pinned her up against the metal grate over the door. I pushed my body into hers and she tried to struggle, but I was twice her size and kept her pinned down.

Her eyes blazed with fear and anger as I stared back at her.

“I’m not the type of man to think you owe me something for buying you a drink and bringing you a phone,” I whispered softly, too close for that to be anything but threatening.

Her breath came fast but she did a good job sounding calm. “Then let me go and leave me alone.”

“I think you do owe me for something else, though.”

Her jaw clenched. “Let me go. There are cameras all over here.”

I let out a soft laugh. “They don’t actually record anything. I know the owner of this place.” Which was true. He paid protection money to the Morozov family. I tilted my head, looking down at her. “You know, you don’t really look Irish at all. Not like your cousins. What were you three talking about back in Six?”

Her eyes went wide.

Fiona wasn’t a player. Sure, her father was deep in the family and a dangerous man, but she wasn’t in the game. I knew everyone involved in Philadelphia’s underworld, every killer, gangbanger, thief, and dealer, and she wasn’t any of those things. As far as I could tell, she was just a girl that had a rough upbringing and wanted to stay as far from crime as she possibly could given her circumstances.

Which was another reason I didn’t want to kill her.

She kept out of trouble and that should count for something.

“Who the fuck are you?” she whispered, afraid now.

“My name’s Mack.” I tilted my head. “And I work for people that want you dead.”

She struggled hard. I had to hand it to her, she was pretty strong, but I kept her in place. She didn’t scream, only stared at me with wild eyes, breath coming in faster, ragged and desperate.

I leaned closer, getting into her personal space.

“What were you talking about with your cousins?”

“Nothing.”

“Why would someone want you dead?”

“I don’t know.”

I shook my head. “Not good enough. Give me a reason not to kill you.”

She stared at me, lips parted, jaw working—

No words came out.

Instead, she threw herself forward and kissed me.

I have to admit, I’ve been through a lot. I’ve done things most men wouldn’t be proud of. I’ve seen things, heard things, tasted things. Broken bodies and screams of pain; rusty metal and splattered blood. I’ve seen big men beg and sob as I pressed my gun against their head.

But I’ve never been kissed before.

I should’ve stopped it. She was only doing it to save herself. It was fear, pure fear, but it was smart.

It made me hesitate.

It made me kiss her back.

Maybe she didn’t expect that. But I dropped her phone, let it clatter to the ground, and pinned her wrists at either side of her head as I felt her body react to mine. Her lips parted, her tongue moved along my tongue, her teeth opened and, fuck, she tasted like licorice and freshly sanded wood. I practically growled into that kiss until I released one wrist and moved my hand down her body.