Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

Neither of us can see in the darkness of the van.

"I'm fine," I say, brushing off her concern. "Just grazed." I don't need her worrying about me. She's the one who needs protection.

"We need to get out of here."

She stumbles in the darkness, tripping over me as the vehicle comes to a rough stop. Her body lands flush against mine, pinning me to the floor.

The rise and fall of her chest matches mine. "Sorry," she says and clears her throat.

"Don't be."

I imagine she's smiling down at me, but I can barely even see her outline in the dark.

"Any chance you have keys to the handcuffs?" I'm optimistic, but it's a long shot.

"No, but there's probably something in the back we can use," she says. She climbs off my body. Already, I miss the warmth and feel of her body above mine.

It'll likely never happen again, the two of us tangled in the sheets.

She shuffles around the back of the van.

Silence.

"Anything?" I ask.

"Nothing useful."

I exhale a heavy breath. "When we get to the compound and the doors open, you need to run."

There's a silence that follows.

"Did you hear me?" I ask.

"What are they planning to do to you?" Savannah's voice is soft and calm.

"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"The feds aren't going just to let them get away with kidnapping us. They'll follow the van, and if they take us to your boss' home, they'll be waiting for us."

Savannah is right. Nikita and Dmitri ought to realize that, and I'm sure they've already devised a plan. They didn't break into the FBI building and capture me just for sport. "They won't take us back to the compound. They'll drive us someplace remote and kill us."

My first inclination was that they'd throw me in the compound's prison, interrogate and torture me, but Savannah knows how the FBI agents think and behave. They're not going to do a wait-and-see approach when it comes to having one of their agents.

"They weren't planning on you being here, accompanying us," I say. There is no way that was part of the plan.

She sighs softly, and after she makes another round within the back of the van, coming up empty with anything that might help, she slumps down next to me to sit.

"Why did you come to the bureau?" Savannah asks.

Her question catches me off guard. "Like I said, to protect you. Mikhail wants you dead. He may as well have ordered a hit on you because of what you did."

"And you can't convince him that I'm not a bad guy? That I'm on your side?"

I laugh under my breath at her suggestion. "Maybe if I hadn't turned myself into the feds, that might have worked. Nikita discovered your little secret. And when I waltzed into the FBI building, he probably told Mikhail everything."

Savannah curses under her breath. "This isn't good."

"Do you think?" I grimace at my tone. This isn't her fault, well, not all of it. We're both to blame for our actions. "When they open the door, I'll create a diversion, and you run."

"I'm not leaving you alone with them." She's too kind. She'll get us both killed.

"I can take care of myself," I say.

"I'm a trained FBI Agent, so can I."

Arguing with her isn't going to get us anywhere. "Fine." We need a new plan. "Any chance you've got a bobby pin in your hair? Something that I can use to open the lock on the handcuffs?"

"The underwire in my bra has been loose. Don't peek."

I chuckle under my breath. Like I haven't already seen every inch of her naked and shuddering at my touch. "I left my night vision goggles at home."

"Very funny," she mutters. There's a rustling of clothing as I imagine she's removing her bra. I can't see whether she's taken her entire shirt off or done that thing where she manages to pull it via her sleeve. Either way, the image of her perky breasts is a pleasant sight in my mind.

Savannah emits a heavy sigh, and I feel her hands graze mine as she fiddles with the metal wire and the handcuffs at my back.

The vehicle slows as we make an abrupt turn and then jolt around from the bumpiness of whatever back road we're taking.

I'm not sure how long we've been driving, but we're not likely anywhere near the city. They'll want to dump our bodies someplace remote.

Savannah manages to unclasp one metal bracelet and then the other as we slow down again and the vehicle makes a second sharp turn.

"Where the hell are we going?" she asks.