Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox Page 0,30
an arm to protect his face, and I kick him in the stomach. He doubles over and falls.
“Who the fuck sent you here?” I roar at them.
Distantly, I recognize people on the street are startled and fleeing. I can’t stay here long. The police will be along soon, and even though I have some of them in my back pocket, I know the Italians do too. There’s no saying who will show up, and I can’t afford to be arrested right now. Not when my Bratva is being divided and my top advisor might be betraying me.
Both men get back to their feet and jockey back and forth, ready to fight.
“Get out of here before you get hurt.”
“You leave before you get hurt, old man,” the dark-haired kid says. He pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open, and lunges towards me.
He moves slowly enough that I dodge what could have been a deadly blow and instead feel a burning sensation across my arm. I don’t need to look to know he got me. There is blood on his knife.
I drive my elbow up and over, hitting his arm and sending the blade skittering across the ground and into the gutter. He curses, and I drive my fist into his nose. Blood spurts down his face and over his lip.
“Leave. Now,” I command. “And tell Fedor if he has a message for me, to deliver it himself.”
The second man seems torn between running away and defending his friend, but he settles on grabbing the dark-haired man’s arm and pulling him towards a car halfway down the block.
Adrenaline is humming beneath my skin, keeping me from feeling the ache in my fist and the cut to my arm. I know I’ll feel it later.
Luckily, neither of them landed any punches, so I shouldn’t have any obvious injuries to my face. If I’m careful, no one will know about this.
I turn to go back to my car, the crowd parting, and that is when I see her.
Molly.
She is standing across the street near my car, her hand wrapped around Theo’s, with her friend standing behind her. But all I can really focus on is the shocked expression on her face. And the anger.
A million questions run through my mind in a matter of seconds. What? How? Why?
Then, I see the guards tailing them. And the greasy bag of food in Molly’s other hand.
She told me Hannah wanted to go out for lunch soon. Apparently, they did. Unfortunately, they chose this exact time and place.
I rush down the block towards them, and Theo pulls away from me, partially hiding behind his mom’s leg.
“It’s okay, bud,” I say softly, holding out my hand. My knuckles are bloody, and I pull my hand back, tucking it behind my back. I can’t even look at Molly. “What are you doing here?”
She holds up the diner bag silently.
I take a deep breath. One problem at a time.
I kneel down and hold out my other hand to Theo. “I know that was scary, bud, but those were bad guys. I was just … taking care of them.”
Theo is peeking out at me from behind Molly’s legs, and I don’t blame him for being scared. He has never seen that side of me before. I’ve kept it purposefully hidden from him and Molly, for that matter. If they don’t need to see my violent side, then I don’t want them to. It isn’t my best quality.
“It’s okay,” Molly says, ruffling Theo’s hair.
I’m surprised she is encouraging Theo to forgive me, but then I realize it is for Theo’s sake, not mine. Molly doesn’t want Theo to be afraid of me, even though she knows he probably should be.
Eventually, Theo lays his hand in mine and lets me hold it.
Molly, I know, won’t be as easily swayed.
Hannah is standing behind her, eyes wary. Molly just looks livid. If smoke could come out of her ears, it would.
“Molly, what—”
“Your arm,” she says, nodding to the cut. “You should go to a hospital.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
I want Hannah to disappear. I want to be able to talk to Molly, to explain what she saw. I lost my temper. The thought of Fedor pushing boundaries upset me, but remembering how he invaded Molly’s space and put Theo in danger, that set me off. I lost control and did something stupid, and Molly witnessed it.
“You should clean it,” she says. “It could be infected. I doubt that man cleans his knife very often.”