Page 65 of Kept By the Bratva

I stiffened, lying in wait to act.

“You won’t have her.” Diego snickered that creepy sound again, lowering the gun to my belly.

No!I went still again.

“And you won’t have your bastards.”

I didn’t want to know how he knew. I wasn’t showing. Word traveled differently among these crime families, but I dreaded anyone knowing about my babies. They didn’t deserve to be targeted.

He tightened his hold on me more, and the tremor in his grip was familiar. Diego was pushed to his limits, on the edge of cracking like this. His muscles shook from the strain, and it reminded me of how I’d dealt with wild and uncooperative animals at the vet office. This Cartel freak wasn’t a canine. He wasn’t a feral cat. But the logic remained the same. He was no longer human to me, just another animal, anotherthingto safely evade or put down.

Diego could linger in that limbo of insanity. I wouldn’t. Fear wouldn’t paralyze me now. As I locked eyes with Nik, I prepared myself to defend my babies until my last breath.

Mila!Without looking down, I noticed her crawling beneath the table. She’d hidden beneath the behemoth of wood, but Diego didn’t seem to notice her. His gaze was on Nik and Alek as he taunted them and ordered them to let him leave with me. All that he shouted sounded so hysterical and unhinged, but it worked in my favor.

With the thick tablecloth hanging down and blocking Mila from sight, no one could see her but me and Diego. We were the only two at this side of the room. Men fought and shot at each other throughout the house, but no one came close enough to be near Diego and interfere.

Mila lifted her hand, and the flash of light confused me. In the shadows under the table, she wasn’t clear. I refused to lower my gaze and look at her directly, either. I couldn’t give away her hiding spot, and I could only watch through my peripheral vision. Tuning out Diego and straining to see her without moving, I caught on to what she had. What she was doing.

The knife!

She’d grabbed hers just when the gunfire had broken out. This fierce woman told me to hide, but we’d dropped low at the threat of a bullet finding us. It all happened in such a blur that I’d lacked a chance to take my knife, but she was coming through for me, trying to give me her blade.

Shit. How can I get it?Diego held me close. If I tried to move, it might startle him. He might think I was trying to run, and I couldn’t risk him shooting at my belly.

I flinched as someone burst through the room, firing at someone else in the hall. The longer we stood here in this standoff, any one of us could be shot.

That’s it!The idea came so quickly, I latched on to it without taking a moment to strategize. Time was of the essence. I couldn’t risk being shot. I refused to let Nik be wounded.

I gasped as theatrically as I could, placing my hand at my side opposite of where Diego aimed his gun at me.

He jerked aside, staring at me, but I didn’t face him. I couldn’t. I groaned and tilted over, acting as though I’d been shot.

“Amy!” Nik shouted and stepped forward from the opposite side of the table.

“Stop!” Diego shouted as I hunched over. He didn’t try to stop me. He didn’tcareabout me or my wellbeing.

I leaned low enough to grab the knife from Mila.

My fingers slid on the handle, wet from sweat, but I held it firmly as I spun. Standing and twisting, I growled and gave this maneuver all I had. I planted my foot to the ground and lurched forward, driving the steak knife into his side. The blade met resistance, and all my training and education about anatomy and physiology had me guessing I’d sliced into his ribcage.

He screamed, bellowing a mighty roar of fury and agony. As he faced me, his eyes wide with crazed malice, I pushed harder and twisted the knife the best I could. It was slick before from my sweaty hands, but now, it was slippery with his blood.

My attack distracted him. He’d taken his sights off Nik and now focused on punishing me.

“You filthy fucking whore!” he screamed.

More men entered the room, and Nik and Alek tried to fend them off. Wounding Diego seemed to attract more of the Cartel men, but I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted. I lost the chance to look back at Nik and know that he was okay.

I had to fight. For me. For him. For us.

Diego no longer aimed the gun at my belly. He strained to target the end of his weapon at my heart. Then higher, at my head. The tip of his gun never aligned with my body, though, because I kept fighting and wrestling to get away.

He kept me close, and I punched and dodged. His arm reached out to grab me, but I kicked and twisted. Holding his arm and pushing it away, I prevented him from bringing the aim back to me.

I didn’t know how he could still be breathing and fighting so well with a steak knife in his ribs. He had a beefy torso, but a blade was a blade. Blood leaked from him.

With the fast blur of avoiding his gun, I lacked the opportunity to hit harder. I couldn’t grab the knife and use it again, and as I smacked into the edge of the table, I tried to find another. Groping the surface of the table, I sought another knife. Hell, a fork. A spoon. Anything. My fingers slipped over the cloth, finding nothing.