Page 40 of Kept By the Bratva

I had to see her.Now.As Ivan sped us back home, I struggled with the deep-seated need to be in Amy’s presence and see with my own eyes that she was away from the Cartel and their backer, far from that deranged customer hellbent on having his way and retrieving hispurchase.

Amy had to be safe at the mansion. No one could breach the security there, and I tried to comfort myself with that fact. Alek was there. We had so many loyal brothers, ready to defend our headquarters. Amy had to be protected there, locked in my wing.

The sooner I could reach her and feel her within my embrace, the sooner I could figure out how to keep her out of that man’s clutches for good.

16

AMY

Ididn’t sleep for long. The locks on the door clicked, rousing me from the light slumber I’d managed. I sat up just as the wooden panels were flung open.

Nik.

He hurried into the suite, cutting across the carpet with long strides. His focus was on me, steadfast and with a frantic gaze that alarmed me. That wasn’t all that I noticed, with my heart in my throat and my pulse going haywire.

From the light spilling in from the hallway, the double doors wide apart after his hasty entrance, I saw enough to toss the covers off me and scramble to stand and meet him in the middle.

We hadn’t talked. We had no time to hold a conversation about what was going on between us. All we’d shared was a stubborn craving for each other, a physical lust that couldn’t be stoppered or delayed.

Something more was there. Another thing—an emotional force a lot like care—bound me to worrying about him in this state.

“Nik!”

If he didn’t show up so suddenly and rush in like this, I would’ve been concerned by his state of suffering.

Blood shone on his face. One eye was swollen and puffy. Cuts showed on his flesh, but he didn’t act like he was injured.

“Amy,” he whispered, gravelly and with utter relief.

I didn’t know why he’d be so worried about me here. He’d left me here locked up with what I bet counted as layers of security outside his personal quarters of this lavish place.

We crashed into each other. His arms wrapped around me and crushed me into a hard, ironclad embrace. My breath puffed out of me with a hiss. That was how forcefully he’d taken me into his hold. I was used to his power. I enjoyed his shows of strength, the bulges of his muscles. In bed, when he was deep inside me, that brutal ferocity helped me escape reality and drown in ecstasy with him.

Here, he clung to me with another motivation. His arms shook. His breath rushed out in a rapid pattern of shuddering relief, as though he could only now be sane and whole at seeing and touching me again.

Almost like… he’d been afraid of never finding me again. The notion was ridiculous. He’d locked me here, like a trinket or possession to keep track of without letting me know what was going on.

Of course, I would have been here. And with the thoughts I’d entertained before I tried to sleep, Iwantedto be here—wherever he was. It was foolhardy. I was a moron to desire him, but with the twists and turns I’d suffered, I couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a source of security I yearned for.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, breaking free enough to look up into his face. “What happened?”

He shook his head, frowning with a vacant fear cast in his eyes. He’d taken a beating, that much was clear. Surprise didn’t freeze me withthat realization. I saw how ruthless and dangerous he could be. I watched him shoot a man dead.

But he was quiet, staring down at me with a drugging concern, his eyes not fully focused as he drank in the sight of me.

He’d fought someone, but what about it? He’d survived. “What, Nik? What happened?” I guided him to the bed and was glad that he sat without further prompting.

I didn’t expect an answer. I wanted one, but he seemed so shell-shocked that I doubted he’d be able to speak clearly.

While he sat, staring after me, I hurried to the bathroom and wet washcloths. He wasn’t a small feline or canine, like my usual “patients” that I had gone to school to study and practice how to care for, but first aid was a universal sort of common sense.

I returned to him and dabbed at his cuts. He sighed, his shoulders drooping when I pressed another cloth soaking with cold water to his eye.

“Nik,” I implored, wishing he could throw me a bone here. After Mila’s explanation of Nik’s role, being a top man within an organized crime family, I knew many details wouldn’t be shared with me. But he couldn’t expect to just show up in this state and avoid my curiosity.

“We need to go.”

I pressed my lips together. “I need to be moved? Again?” I didn’t want to leave. I had, I hoped, an ally here. Mila’s conversation filled me with a slight sense of comfort. And she’d promised she’d arrange for a doctor to see me. I couldn’t put that off any longer, especially with my condition that made me risky for carrying a successful pregnancy.