Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva) Nicole Fox (most popular novels TXT) 📖

Even if she still hates me when all is said and done. Even if I was wrong about the random tender moments I thought we were sharing—bandaging her feet, laughing in the car. I must protect her, even if we are to part ways later and never see each other again.

I try to tell her all that with one look, because the words running through my head don’t seem to capture the weight of my remorse, of the responsibility I feel I’m bearing. So many things have changed in the last few days, but the walls I’ve erected around myself are still too tall to surmount. Sharing my thoughts out loud would mean turning my back on the legacy I’ve bled and sweated to create. So I can only look at her and hope she understands.

She crosses her arms and huffs. “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Her words are angry, but her eyes are searching my face, trying to figure me out.

I cast my eyes down at the trail. “Let’s keep moving,” I say. “We’re not safe yet.”

The forest is dark and foreboding, but there is peace in its sullen ambience. I wonder how my father ever came to find the place where we’re headed. My eyes flicker over the thick, dark trunks of the trees that rise steadily into the sky, branches interlocking with their neighbors like giants’ arms linked together, protecting their home. The trees are densely packed together, leaving just enough space for Annie and me to maneuver through. I press my palm against the rough bark, and breathe in the scent of the forest. The musty scent of leaves after rainfall, the warm soil packed against the earth by scurrying animals, the scent of things in different stages of blooming and growth. The smell of life.

We round a crook in the path. Suddenly, behind me, I hear the tch-tch-tch of wood splintering. I whirl around, senses on high alert.

In an instant, I process everything, as if time had slowed to a crawl. Annie is on all fours, maneuvering up the steep, gravelly path. The heavy tree branch over her head is on its last few threads keeping it hoisted up against the trunk. There are mere seconds, maybe less, before it tumbles to the ground. It’s at least twice as thick as her. She’ll be pinned beneath it, probably hurt, possibly killed.

I react immediately, lunging forward and yanking her up by the arm. My momentum carries us back down the path. I pull her into my embrace as we tuck and roll. The loose rocks tear at my shirt and skin, and I roar in pain. I hear the branch give way as it crashes into the ground where Annie just was with a thunderous boom. The ground shakes, squirrels titter in fear, and birds caw as they flap away.

We roll to a stop at the base of another tree. I look back and shudder. To come this far and be killed by a tree ... fate would have to have a very cruel sense of humor.

My adrenaline subsides and I turn my attention to the girl in my arms. Her breath is rising and falling rapidly, heart beating like a hummingbird. She combs the hair back from her face and looks up at me. Neither of us says a word for a moment, but my chest throbs with an almost painful pang. She looks beautiful in the moonlight. Fragile and dirty and scared, yes. But beautiful. She’s tucked against my chest, with my arms encircling her and keeping her close. The warmth of her body is intoxicating.

“You okay?” I whisper.

“Just peachy,” she responds. I can see the war inside her. Gratitude for saving her, wonder at just what exactly is happening between us. Anger at what I’ve done to her, fear at what’s being done to us. All of it brewing and bubbling and threatening to explode.

She disentangles herself from me abruptly and stands up, checking herself for any wounds suffered while I grabbed her and rolled. Finding nothing, she claps the dirt from her hands. “As you were,” she says sarcastically.

I nod and get to my feet. Once again, the moment passes, and our respective masks settle back into place. “We should almost be there.”

***

Annie stays closer to me as we go back up, stepping carefully over the fallen branch and checking every few seconds to make sure no other trees are eager to drop a limb on our heads. At the edge of a cliff, I spot a rock with a stick figure carving. A smile tugs at my lips. I remember using my little pocketknife to chisel away at the rock, pretending I was some sort of explorer marking my territory. My father laughed and burst my bubble when he told me this was his secret hiding place.

But my father is dead. This is mine now.

I clamber up onto the cliff and look over the edge. A thin patina of crisscrossed branches hides whatever is below from sight. Given where we are on the mountain, it could just as easily be a thousand-foot drop into a shadowy chasm, though I know better.

I jump off the edge, crash through the branches, and land on the packed dirt a few feet below.

When the dust settles, Annie calls to me from above. “Nikita?” Her voice has a nervous warble.

“I’m down here. You’ll have to jump.”

“Umm.” I can hear her above, though the branches hide her from sight. A few crumbs of dirt fall as she fusses around, hoping for a better way down. I remember doing the same with my father. The drop is scary for those who don’t know what lies below. It’s a truly blind fall.

Annie will just have to trust me.

“It’s okay, Annie. I promise.”

I hear her take a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she says nervously.

“I’ll catch you.”

“Okay ... are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Just jump.”

A few quiet moments pass, filled only by the sounds of the nighttime forest. Rustling in