Savoring Mila (Angels Halo MC Next Gen 3)

She wrapped her arms around me. “I love you too.”

We stood there just holding each other for the longest time, neither of us even trying to move away from the other. I knew she was hurting, and it made my heart ache for her. All I wanted was to fix this for her, mend her broken heart—and maybe take Dad’s knife to G’s balls. That asshole was why my sister was feeling like this, and I wanted him to hurt just as badly as she was.

The sound of squealing tires had us both snapping our heads around. A nondescript black sedan screamed to a stop at the back of the SUV. Two men in jeans and black hoodies jumped out, and instinctively, I moved in front of Monroe protectively.

The one who’d been in the driver’s seat said something, but I didn’t understand a single word of it. It wasn’t until the other guy spoke that I realized they were both speaking Italian. This time of day, everyone was either at work or in class. It was why Monroe and I had decided to meet so late in the afternoon, to avoid people listening in on our conversation. But it meant there was no one in the parking lot or even driving by to help us if we needed it.

“Where are you, Gian?” I heard Monroe whisper, her fingers clenching in the back of my shirt. “I need you.”

“Mon, are these friends of yours?” I hissed over my shoulder, keeping my gaze on the two men approaching us with purpose.

“No,” she whispered back. “I’ve never seen these two before. But…”

“But?” I muttered, noticing the guns the two men were packing. The driver pulled his and aimed it right at my stomach. I felt the blood drain from my face.

Did this guy know I was pregnant?

Did he know Monroe was?

Ah fuck. Had they been watching us?

The other guy said something to the driver, and Monroe sucked in a deep breath.

“What?” I demanded. “What did he say?”

“I think he said our babies would get a good price on the market, so they need to try not to hurt us too badly.”

How she knew Italian, I had no idea, but I was glad she could understand them. Carefully, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and started to open my contacts. But seeing I was calling for help, the driver moved faster than he had before and snatched my phone out of my hands before I could hit connect on Lyric’s name.

As he pressed the end of his gun harder against my abdomen, his friend came around behind us. Monroe’s gasp told me she now had a gun pressed against her somewhere too. My instinct was to punch this asshole in the face. He couldn’t possibly have the balls to actually pull that trigger.

But I had more than myself to worry about. Not only was my sister in danger, but both of us were pregnant, and our babies were the most at risk in this situation. Clenching my eyes closed, I prayed for this to be just a bad dream, or for patience if it wasn’t so I didn’t do something stupid and get us both killed.

When I lifted my lashes, the guy in front of me was still there, his gun pressed even harder into my flesh. But his eyes, they were on Monroe, as if he found her the most curious thing he’d ever set eyes on.

He said something that had my sister’s fingers biting into my flesh through my shirt.

“What did he say?” I whispered to her over my shoulder, keeping my eyes locked on him.

“He wants to know if my pussy is made of gold if Gian is willing to die for me,” she gritted out, fear lacing every word. “He…He’s going to rape me, Mila. Oh God, Gian, where are you?”

“Come,” the other guy said in thickly accented English. “No trouble. We not hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” I snarled at him.

“Get in,” he repeated. “Or I shoot you and take Fontana’s woman anyway.”

“Mil, don’t struggle,” Monroe pleaded. “The babies…”

“I know, damn it,” I snapped. “Fine. But tell your boy to back up so I can move.”

He spoke rapidly to the driver, and he took a half step back, but he barely moved his gun from my gut. I’d seen the damage a bullet to the gut had done to Tavia, and I knew this close, neither the babies nor I would survive being shot.

Reaching behind me, I locked my fingers in the belt loops of Monroe’s jeans and held on tight as I started walking toward the sedan. The driver opened the back door and pushed me inside. Monroe followed, along with the other guy. I tried the handle of the other door, but of course, the child-safety locks were already engaged.

Fuck.

“You listen,” the guy beside Monroe repeated. “We no hurt you.”