Page 29 of Fractured Ties

She doubted that.

Very much so.

They had just rounded the front of the building when the barking started. It was only then that Maya realized the front doors of the warehouse had been opened, and propped to stay that way with cinderblocks that had once been along the eastern wall.

The barking, though?

It was coming from inside the place.

And then came the dogs.

Bounding as fast as their legs could take them and terrified. Shaking, with ears pinned back, and growls that came out sharp like warnings for the animal that might get too close. Some of the dogs nipped and snapped at the animal to their left and right as they fought to get out of the doorway first. They stumbled and yelped in their effort.

“You’re releasing them?” Maya asked.

Her heart swelled a bit.

“Well, they are,” Kolya said, “but it’s for the best, either way. Come, get in the truck before one of those dogs takes a bite out of you. It’s not like there’s very much for them to chew on.”

His gaze darkened a bit as it traveled over her.

Maya felt that familiar heat creep into her cheeks. “Enough for you to look at, apparently.”

Kolya did smirk that time.

Almost a smile, too.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“You lose that sometimes,” he told her. “That bark of yours, Maya. Or maybe you hide it. I wish you wouldn’t. I think I like it.”

He didn’t give her time to ponder his words because he picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a bag of feathers, and tossed her over his shoulder like she was worth about as much, too. He navigated the fighting and running dogs as though they didn’t bother him in the least. She didn’t realize what was happening until a beep echoed, and then a door was opened.

Maya was placed carefully into the front passenger seat of a Hummer.

She glanced down.

It was high.

“How do normal people get in here?”

Kolya chuckled, as dry as it was. “Normal people don’t get to drive in my vehicles.”

Maya’s brow furrowed. “So, what does that make me?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Special, then.

She heard what he didn’t say.

“Is that why we didn’t go out the front?” she asked when she noticed the last few dogs trotting out of the front doors. “Because they were letting the dogs out?”

“No. Because I didn’t think you would appreciate the sight of your father flayed open on a pool table.”

Jesus Christ.

Just like that, he reminded her why she should probably be scared of him.