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“Ooh-ho-ho, look what we have here, boys,” someone jokes in a boyish leer.
His mocking tone makes my stomach plummet.
“Seems to me we walked in on avery steamymoment.”
Embarrassment floods my body in an instant, and an involuntary squeak escapes my lips as Efrem pulls away sharply, breaking our kiss. His muscles tense as he’s suddenly on guard. He turns to shield me from the unknown men who shatter the beautiful night with raucous laughter.
And my stomach knots at the sight of the rowdy and visibly inebriated group of guys surrounding us.
6
EFREM
My irritation over the interruption quickly turns to protective concern as I recognize the young group of recruits that have been tailing Mikhail Sidorov around New York for the last year or so. Most of these men have been initiated into the Zhivoder clan—though I don’t recognize them all.
“You are on the wrong side of a territory line, friends,” I state coldly, keeping one hand wrapped protectively around Dani’s arm as I shield her with my body.
I have my knives, and so long as none pull out a gun, I could take down the ten boys on my own—they look like they’re still learning to grow facial hair and working off their baby fat. But I hope to avoid a fight. Pyotr wouldn’t blame me since they’re on Veles land. And I intend to send them back where they belong. But I would prefer not to frighten Dani.
Their ring leader leers at me. A lean, pock-faced guy with dark facial hair, he looks as though he’s making a moderate attempt to cover his acne scars with the patchy scruff. His alcohol-addled brain and group of friends to back him up have given him a false sense of confidence.
“What are you going to do about it?” he taunts, swaying forward several steps.
I can feel the familiar dark violence growing in my chest, the anger that builds like steam in a kettle, increasing pressure as the heat rises until it bursts from me in an explosive rage.
And then Dani’s delicate fingers wrap around my bicep. “Efrem, please, let’s just leave,” she whispers, her voice quivering with fear.
Her soft plea weakens my resolve. As her apparent distress makes my stomach tighten, my need to protect her outweighs the urge to teach these boys a lesson. I glance behind me to find her face pale, her eyes wide with fear as she scans the group that slowly draws closer, encircling us.
“There’s too many,” she breathes, her chin quivering as her blue eyes silently beg me to take her and run.
The number wouldn’t concern me if I were alone, but trying to keep Dani safe at the same time could prove difficult. Still, it goes against all my instincts to back down from a fight.
“You can’t leave just yet. The fun’s only getting started,” another guy says, one to my far right who’s gotten too close for comfort. “Don’t worry, beauty. We’ll show you a much better time than this old man.”
He grabs for Dani, and her terrified cry makes my blood boil. I throw a punch without overthinking it, my body reacting instinctually to keep him away, and the crunch of his nose as it breaks against my knuckles fills me with intense satisfaction.
He stumbles back several steps, his eyes widening in horror. “You motherfucker!” he gasps, his hand flying up to cover the blood suddenly gushing from his face.
And then they’re on me. Five at a time, closing in before I can draw my knives. Raising my fists in a defensive stance, I block their punches easily, landing several of my own at the same time.
With a background of mixed martial arts combined with street brawling and years of rigorous training, I don’t hesitate to drive my knee into ribcages, my fists into ears, and my elbows into guts as they attempt to overwhelm me all at once.
Several hands grab for my arms to restrain me, but no one’s strong enough to maintain a grip. One manages to make contact with my cheek, and my head snaps sideways as the blow lands squarely. In a flash, he’s on the ground, his throat beneath my shoe as my vision turns red with rage.
Dani’s scream turns my blood to ice as I realize a sixth man managed to slip behind me and grab her. I snarl as he jerks her arm, hauling her out of my reach, and during the momentary distraction, the guy beneath my shoe manages to wiggle free. Another of the boys standing between me and Dani takes the opportunity to flick open a decent-sized pocket knife.
My jaw clenches as I pause. I could still take it from him. He’s holding it like someone in desperate need of a hand-to-hand combat lesson, the point leveled at me in a showy yet essentially ineffective manner. But I wouldn’t have time to disarm him and get to Dani. Not with all his buddies ready to step in.
“She’s feisty. Maybe we should have some fun with this one once we put the old man in his place,” sneers the dead-eyed brute who manhandles Dani with bruising force.
“Let me go!” she screams, pounding his chest and jerking her arm violently in an attempt to escape his clutches.
Fury churns in my gut, and I clench my fists as I prepare to kill every last one of these sick bastards. Before, I hated them on principle. Now, I plan to gut them like the animals they are.
“Dani?”
Everyone freezes at the shocked tone that cuts through the tense moment.
