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I look around as if I might’ve missed an escape route earlier, and looking again might make one magically appear.
“Two.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. I am not coming, and if they want to come and try me, I’m going to?—
Something hits the floor at my feet, and the air in front of me is instantly filled with burning, acrid smoke. I fall to the ground a few seconds too late before ingesting a toxic gulp of the fumes.
I sputter and cough.
Remember, you’re a man. Do not give yourself away.
Jesus. Who the fuck carries smoke bombs with them?
I’m on all fours, trying to crawl away from here and toward the loft ladder, but I’ve lost my bearings. My knees ache on the cold, hard floor, and when I crawl forward, I stifle a yelp when a splinter shoots into my palm. I’m wheezing, the air in my lungs painful. I’d do anything for cool, fresh air.
I reach blindly for the ladder and force myself to remember to stay strong, to remember that I can’t cave now. I’m a fighter, and just because I’m outnumbered by a bunch of boys means shit. I’ll let them take me into custody, and then, at the very first opportunity—I’ll escape.
I always do.
Always.
Strong hands grip my wrist mercilessly. I stifle a yelp. I can’t sound like a woman or act like one in any way.
“Let me go,” I growl in the deepest register I can muster. “I’ll surrender.” I’m seized with a fit of coughing.
When he doesn’t let me go, I wrench my wrists away, trying to get free, but I’m dragged toward the ladder. The splinter in my palm aches, and tears from the smoke stream down my face. I turn away so they don’t see me. I throw myself bodily down, freeing myself, and shove.
“Jesus.” I see the silhouette of whoever it is fall a few steps but grab onto the bar and hold on tight. He swings his legs back on and starts climbing toward me again.
I can hardly see from the burning smoke, but I take a quick moment to rear back and kick at him. My kick is off the mark, missing by a mile. Jesus. I’m normally so much better than this.
He yanks my arms and pulls me toward the ladder. I throw my body weight at him. He struggles, wobbling, but uses my body weight as leverage. The smoke has compromised me. It’s clumsy, fighting with everything I’ve got, but then I can’t see a damn thing and can hardly breathe.
I writhe and scream, and when a hand comes into view, I bend and sink my teeth into flesh. He curses and bellows but doesn’t let go.
With a firm arm on me, he pulls me toward him and onto the loft ladder. He shouts below to his brothers. “He’s small and fighting like a motherfucker. I’m throwing him down. It’ll take forever to wrestle him down this ladder. Catch.”
I stifle a scream when the men quickly form a human net with their arms. I claw at Lev and manage to gain an inch or two but don’t scream for fear of giving myself away. With a grunt, he tugs me toward the edge of the loft again. We wobble. He’s standing on a ladder, for God’s sake, the chances of both of us falling?—
He yanks me and throws me bodily. I go hurtling into the air. I nearly bite my tongue in two to prevent me from screaming myself hoarse. I close my eyes and fall into a pile of arms that only slightly sways with the heft and impact of my fallen weight.
My heart is beating so fast I can’t breathe.
This is the worst possible scenario.
I’ve seen Viktor beat people beyond recognition. I’ve seen footage of Nikko shooting from an impossible distance, and that man never fucking misses.
I have video evidence of Aleksandr strangling a man who threatened his wife with his bare hands, his face completely devoid of any human emotion as the life drained from his victim. Mikhail once tore through a rival’s hideout with nothing but a handgun, decimating everyone in his wake, leaving behind a trail of blood and earning him the nickname The Siberian Tiger.
And Viktor—good God, they call the man the Iron Fist for a reason.
But Lev… Lev is different. By no means is he kinder or gentler. I can tell just by the first look into his eyes that he commands respect like the rest of them do and will lay down his life out of loyalty. I mean, I hope it doesn’t come to that, but let’s not lie. He seems calculating, though. He’s observing before he reacts.
I see a brief flare of surprise before Viktor grabs both of my arms, barely protected from the thick hoodie, and stands me upright. He raises a fist, and the others give him a wide berth.
“You dared to invade our privacy,” he says in a growl. I can’t run away. If he decks me, I’ll… Lev launches himself at me from behind, knocking me to the floor as Viktor’s fist flies. He came so close to punching me that I felt the whizz of air as his palm flew by.
“Don’t!” Lev shouts. “You didn’t see what I did.”
