Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

Not on purpose, but I knew what she needed and there was only one way to achieve it, only one thing we could to do to save her brother and walk away with this shipment of drugs.

It’d be dangerous, but she could handle it.

I knew she could.

“All right, I trust you.”

We walked back to my place, finished our breakfast, then got into my truck and headed out.

21

Fiona

The gun range was out in the suburbs tucked away in a wooded area down a long gravel path.

At first, I was terrified. I mean, I’m not a gun person. I grew up around guns, saw the other guys using guns, but I’d never shot anything and never wanted to.

As soon as I squeezed the trigger and felt the violent, explosive force in my hands, I knew I was so, so wrong.

Guns were bad. Don’t get me wrong. Nobody should have a gun in their house.

Although it felt really fucking good.

I squeezed off round after round. He had me shooting a small pistol—some little 9mm thing. He explained what it was, but it all went through my head like rainwater through a net.

All I knew was point and squeeze.

I went through several magazines before he finally pulled me aside. I was practically glowing with excitement as we walked down the path away from the sound of gunfire.

“Okay, Mack, I’m going to level with you here.” I skipped ahead, trying not to laugh. “That felt really, really good.”

“Glad you liked it.”

“Like really good. I mean, holy crap, it’s scary and loud and stuff, but it’s a gun, it’s so much power.”

“You should try shooting something bigger.”

I stopped and stared at him. “You have something bigger?”

“Of course. But not right now.” He laughed and patted my ass. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.”

“I’m still a stupid bleeding-heart liberal, you know. For every bad guy that guns manage to stop, ten innocent people die because of them. Seems like a pretty obvious math problem to me.”

“But shooting’s really fun.”

“Really, really fun.”

“You’re not bad, either. Hit the target more often than not from ten yards, which is about what you want.”

“Does this mean I get to go on hits with you?”

He laughed and shook his head. I danced away from him again and breathed in the cool, comfortable suburban air. “Why are we so far outside of the city, by the way?”

“Safer to meet out here.”

“Meet with who?”

He grinned at me and nodded up ahead.

I squinted at a parked car on the side of the road. It was a beat-up black sedan, very suspicious looking. The door opened and Juan climbed out, waving and smiling.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked, slowing my pace. “Isn’t he Lionetti?”

“Not anymore. He’s nobody now.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come on. I’ll explain.” He walked forward and greeted Juan. They shook hands, and Juan smiled at me.

“Sorry we meet again under such circumstances.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure what the circumstances are.”

Juan frowned at Mack. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I’m telling her now. Come on, let’s keep walking. It’s a nice day out.” He strode off and Juan sighed.

“Is he always like this?”

“Always.” I hurried after him.

Juan caught up.

“The plan’s simple,” Mack said, not slowing down to look back. “I’m going to the shipment drop. I have a very strong feeling that there will be some action, given the intense interest from the Lionetti family.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Juan said.

“My hope is that the Doyles and the Lionettis mostly kill each other, which will make my job very easy. And while I’m doing that, the two of you have another task.”

I cleared my throat. “The two of us? You mean, me and him?”

“That’s what I said.” He glanced back at me, frowning. “Keep up, okay?”

I clenched my jaw and Juan stifled a laugh.

“The Lionettis are going to focus on this shipment fight. I have a feeling Park will pull most of his strength to make sure this the heist goes down without too much of a problem, which means that your brother’s safe house will be vulnerable. That’s where you two come in.”

“You want me to break into the safe house and rescue my brother?” My heartbeat suddenly scattered and my breath came in faster. “Holy crap. That’s why you wanted me to go shooting today.”

“Juan’s going to do most of the shooting.” He paused, looked back at Juan. “Isn’t that right?”

“Mack explained that if you end up with so much as a bruise, he will personally rip out my toenails, make me eat them, then murder me.”

“And I wasn’t exaggerating.”

I groaned and rubbed my face. I stopped walking, trying to take all this in, and really failing.

“I don’t understand. I thought you were a part of the Lionetti family, Juan?”

“Fuck them,” Juan said, grinning. “Besides, Mack offered me the shipment, and I happen to have contacts in the cartels that will pay top dollar for that shit.”