Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

There are no sounds of traffic outside. No vehicles were passing us or honking. We're likely on an isolated road.

"Probably the woods. Someplace remote." There are enough forests outside of New York City that they could be taking us anywhere. The only properties that I'm aware Mikhail owns are in the downtown vicinity.

The handcuffs fall to the ground, and I'm grateful for the reprieve from the metal digging into my flesh. However, it's nothing compared to what the bratva will have planned for us when we stop.

"We need to get out of here," I say and stand, stumbling toward the door. The side door and the back trunk are locked.

"I already tried the door handles," Savannah says. "Any other suggestions?"

The van comes to a dead stop, and I inhale sharply. "You need to run." It's the only way to keep her safe. If I attack Nikita and Dmitri, hopefully, Savannah can get away.

"I already told you I'm not doing that."

The back door is flung open. Dmitri stands with his pistol pointed at us. "Get out," he shouts.

Savannah steps out first. I follow behind her.

Why the hell doesn't she listen to me?

"Walk." We wander about twenty yards before he bellows out his next command. "On your knees!" Dmitri orders.

He mustn't have wanted our blood to stain the outside of the van—too much evidence.

Savannah and I drop down onto our knees.

Dmitri has a gun aimed at Savannah, and Nikita has come around from the side of the van, aiming his weapon at me.

"Any last words?" Nikita asks. "Any declarations of love?"

I'm not sure what he's getting at, but I take the bait. I do love Savannah. I know that I shouldn't. That she's the enemy and wants to destroy the men I work for, but I've already ruined my chance with the organization. They've made that known.

"I'm sorry that it's come down to this," I say, staring at Savannah. "I love you and wish you'd listened to me." Why couldn't she run and save herself?

Her eyes flicker for a moment, and I'm not sure why. Does she have another weapon that she didn't tell me about hidden on her? If she does, now is the time to use it.

"I'm sorry," Savannah whispers. "I never meant to hurt you."

I press my lips against hers, hard and passionate. If it's the last thing I experience, I want to devour her, protect her, save her.

A gunshot erupts, and when I realize I'm not in pain or bleeding any more than before, I expect to find her lifeless body in my arms.

But she's breathing hard, her hands clutched to my hand.

Dmitri falls to the ground.

"Get up!" Nikita barks. "Mikhail's ordered both of your deaths. He won't stop searching for you." He digs into his pocket and shoves a piece of paper at me and the vehicle's keys.

"What's this?"

"Get out of here. Save your girl while you still can," Nikita says.

"What about Mikhail? He'll kill you if he learns of your betrayal."

Nikita hands me his gun. "He won't if you shoot me in the shoulder. I need to make it look like you stole the vehicle and escaped. There's a tracking device on it, though. You need to change vehicles as soon as you can."

I'm aware of the tracker. I grimace and lift the gun, cocking off the safety. I aim and shoot, blasting him in the shoulder.

He curses and grumbles under his breath. "Don't ever come back to New York."

I hurry to the driver's side, and Savannah climbs into the front seat. "You're just going to leave him there?"

"What do you suggest? That I take him to the hospital?" Her question is absurd. We don't go to the hospital, even when our men end up with a bullet in them. There's Steele Concierge Medical and the nurses who live at the compound. One of them is Luka's fiancée.

"Drop him off! He's bleeding out and in the middle of nowhere. He'll bleed to death before help arrives."

"Fuck!" I slam my palm against the steering wheel. Together, we hurry to load his ass into the back of the van. "You're too good of a person," I say, glaring at Savannah.

"And you love me for it."

We hurry out of the woods, my foot heavy on the gas as I drop Nikita off at the nearest hospital. Steele Concierge is out of the way. The bratva will have to deal with the police, which is inevitable after the situation at the FBI building.

We swapped vehicles shortly after dropping his bloody ass off at the hospital, boarding a bus and then a train, heading toward the address Nikita gave us.

"Are you sure that we can trust him?" Savannah asks, glancing at the scrap of paper in my hand with the address, phone number, and name of the man who can help.

"We need new identities. If this guy, Declan, can help us, I see no other choice."