Possessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 3)

We take the exit ramp, and he has to slam on the brakes to keep from smashing into the cement construction barrier. I jolt around in the backseat and grip the edge of the seat to keep from flying around the vehicle.

I reach for the seatbelt and yank it across my lap. This isn't how I'm going to die, not if I have any say in the matter.

I don't bother to ask how much longer; I doubt he'd tell me.

We drive for nearly two hours before we exit the highway. The roads are dark, the area desolate. Where the hell is he taking us?

He pulls up outside of a house on several acres of land. There's nothing for miles but farmland. He kills the engine and steps out, gun in hand, opening the back door.

"Out," he barks.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask. It seems like a lot of driving to come out here to kill me. But maybe he has orders not to get caught disposing of my body. I climb out through the open door.

"You talk too much." He grabs my arm and forcefully escorts me into the farmhouse.

"You mustn't have met my sister," I say and grimace. I hope that he hasn't met her.

He unlocks the front door. The lights are off, but there are candles illuminating the interior. "Get inside." He shoves me into the house and shuts and locks the door. His gun is still secure in his hand. Does he plan on threatening me with a gun or killing me?

"Mama!" Zion runs straight into my arms.

I bend down, pulling him into my embrace, protecting my boy.

"It's okay," Katie says. She comes out from around the corner, having been in another room.

I grab Zion, lifting him into my arms, keeping him away from the man with the gun, and briskly heading toward Katie. How can she be so damn calm right now?

"Nothing is okay," I mutter.

"You can trust him," Katie says.

"The guy waving a gun, forcing me into his vehicle?" Has my sister lost her mind?

Katie pins him with a stare. "You threatened her with a gun?"

He clears his throat. "I may have had little option. The Italians were following us. I couldn't be sure they didn't put a tracker or listening device on her. Worst case, they think I'm with the mafia in New York and captured her."

His accent vanishes, and he has a typical midwestern accent. The bastard had me fooled. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Declan, this is Lucy," Katie says, introducing us as if they are friends.

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I'm sure it's just a coincidence. "Katie's little sister," Declan says and offers a sly grin. "You were always looking up to her as a kid."

I take a step back, stunned. As in the same Declan we went to school with when we lived in Breckenridge. I hadn't thought about home since Aunt Maggie died. I had missed her funeral, not for lack of trying, but Zion was sick with a fever.

I would never have recognized him, although it wasn't like I ever hung out with him. Declan and Katie were inseparable. Me, I was the kid sister.

"What are you doing here?" And since when did he become such a big jerk? I'm still pissed about him shoving a gun at me and practically tossing me into the back of his vehicle with his shitty Italian accent.

It wasn't a bad accent. I'm just fuming that he played me. He was always a prankster, and I swear it's like he never grew up. Why the hell did Katie call him for help?

"Katie and I have been in touch since the funeral," Declan says.

I pin Katie with my stare. When was she planning on telling me that she had hooked up with her ex? They were high school sweethearts, practically inseparable, until something happened one day that changed everything. Katie never told me the reason, just that it was over.

"You didn't tell me you saw him." I can't believe Katie would keep something like this from me! I've not been forthcoming in my recent mafia drama, but I've had to protect her and my son. She knows enough that we're in danger.

"Not to break this reunion up," Declan says. He seems protective of Katie. "We were being followed when I saw you at the airport and on the highway for nearly half the trip."

My hands tremble, and I cling tighter to Zion, wanting to protect him from all of it. "Followed by whom?" I ask.

He pulls out his phone and reveals a handful of pictures he snapped while I hurried to the taxi stand. "You were watching me?"

"I had to handle surveillance and protect you," Declan says.

"I don't need your protection." I glance him over from head to toe. He's not a small guy. He's built, handsome, and works out. I can see the attraction that Katie would harbor for him, but he's not my type. And even if he were, I wouldn't let any man come between my sister and me.

Declan grabs a metallic wand. It's only about six inches and thin as he guides it around my body, stopping at my pocket as it beeps.

"Are you searching me for a weapon?" I ask. "I don't have one, remember? I just came from the airport."

The wand beeps profusely at my pants pocket, and his brow is tight. "I'm sorry for the theatrics earlier, but as I suspected, someone planted a bug."

"Excuse me?"

"What's in your pocket?" Declan asks.

I pull out my keys and the keyring that is attached.

He snatches it from my grip and examines the contents. "Looks like a tracker," he says. "I don't see any listening devices or surveillance equipment."

He fiddles with the keyring, revealing to me a tiny dot no bigger than a speck made by a pencil. "We have jamming devices around the vicinity."

"Who would track me?" The only person who had access to my keys was Nikita. Had he planted the tracker?

"The mafia?" Katie asks. "You said they were watching you, forcing you to steal something from some evil men."

"The bratva," I whisper. "Nikita must have planted the tracker. He knows where I am." Even if Declan can jam the signal, Nikita could have followed it to the most recent location, the farmhouse, or close by.

Declan's eyes widen, and he runs a hand through his hair. "You stole from the Russian Bratva?" There's a hint of concern laced in his tone; his eyes widen, and he exhales a heavy breath.

"I tried to, but I got caught. Anyway, the bratva isn't my biggest problem at the moment. It's the Italians. They're threatening my family."

"Yeah, I'll say. The Moretti family in New York must have phoned in a favor with the Rinaldi family in Chicago. I noticed Francesco and Giovan at the airport, but there could have been others."

"And you're confident that they didn't follow us?" I ask.

"I know how to lose a vehicle tailing my ass. It's what I do for a living, well, security type of work."

"You're a bodyguard?" I ask, glancing at Katie. Did she call him here to hire him or because there's something going on between them?

"That is one job I do for Eagle Tactical," Declan says. "Enough about me. What do the Italians want? What did they ask you to steal?"

I don't trust Declan. He may have been trying to save my life and keep me safe, but he hasn't proven himself to me, at least not yet.

"A painting," I say. "But it doesn't matter. The Russians know about the heist and are meeting with the Italians to take care of it. I was supposed to hand over the painting this evening to the Italians."

"And when you ran to the airport, they noticed," Declan says.