“I’m going to be very clear, Babygirl. You’re under my protection now. So, any misconceptions you have about who is in charge here should be cleared up.” I lean into her. “I’m in charge now.”
“Alexander—”
“Said to do whatever is needed to keep you safe. And that includes from yourself. Now. Like I said several times already. No talking. Just do what I say. We have to be quick. Are you going to get in the shower and wash up like a good girl, or do I need to waste time disciplining you first?”
Her bottom lip rolls inward, pressing tight against her upper lip. She glances at the bedroom door, and for a moment I thinkshe might try to run. But as impulsive as she can be, she’s not stupid.
There’s nowhere for her to go. She knows Janis isn’t going to sit back after five of his men were killed, especially not after he found her.
“Five seconds, Babygirl.” I warn. It’s the last one she’s going to get. I’ve already been too lenient.
She stares me down, and I can almost hear her counting in her mind. But she finally gives in to reality and shoves past me, disappearing down the hall. The bathroom door slams, and a moment later, the water runs.
I pull out drawers from the dresser and fill the suitcase.
When she returns from the bathroom, her hair is wound up in a towel on her head, and she has another wrapped around her body.
Her naked body.
Water droplets cling to her skin. A narrow cut gleams in the dull light of the lamp, something I hadn’t noticed until now.
“What’s this?” I grab her chin and push her head to the side to get a better look. It’s short and shallow, and the bleeding’s already stopped.
“I think one of those pallet things hit me when a bullet hit it.” She shoves at my hands. “I cleaned it; it’s just a little cut.”
I touch the edges of it to be sure it’s as superficial as it looks. When I’m done inspecting the wound, I check the other side of her neck, and her shoulders.
“Artem.” She says my name softer this time, like she’s coaxing a scared cat out from under the bed. “I’m fine. It’s a small cut.”
When I lift my gaze to hers, my throat tightens. There had been five men, all with guns pointed at us. She could have easily taken a bullet. She could be dead right now.
“Get dressed.” I let her go, because if I don’t, I won’t be able to, and we’ll still be here tangled up in her bed when Janis’ men break down the door.
She frowns. “I can’t tell if you’re mad that I’m fine or just mad in general.”
“There are so many things to be upset about, Elana. I’m not sure I can pinpoint it for you right now.” I turn back to the bed and close the suitcase.
“Wait, I need more stuff if we’re leaving.”
I check the time. “You have five minutes to get dressed and get what you need. Five minutes.” I reopen the bag.
She snatches up clothing from the things I’ve already packed, then runs back to the bathroom to change into them. When she emerges a moment later, she’s dressed in a pair of black leggings and a sweatshirt that’s been cropped at the waist. Every curve of her ass is on display, testing my patience.
I watch as she flitters around the apartment grabbing things from the nightstand, the bathroom, and the living room, filling the suitcase. When she drops the last bundle of items from the living room, I push aside a book and pick up a pistol.
“Where did you get this?” I inspect the Smith and Weston 642 double action five-barrel pistol. It’s not a weapon any of her brothers would have in their stash. It’s small, lightweight, perfect for her.
“I know how to buy a gun, Artem.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair.
“And the Glock you had? Where’d you get that? Because the one you had isn’t something you can buy at a store.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Does it matter?”
“You took it from one your brothers?”
“Have any of them noticed a gun missing?” She tilts her head, a smug grin tugging at her lips.
I tuck the pistol into my coat pocket and zip up the bag. “Get your shoes, let’s go.”
