Page 73 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

"You'll protect me and Lex, just because he's your blood?"

He pauses, his dark eyes meeting mine. For a long moment he doesn’t speak, like he’s struggling to find the right words. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing my wet skin.

“You belong to me,” he says quietly, "and no one will ever touch you or Lex. Not while I’m alive. I swear it.”

Somehow I know he means that. Especially when he leans in and places a kiss on my forehead. I'm tired; I feel a yawn coming on, so I smile at him and rest a hand on his chest. "I'm going to lie down. I'll wait for you."

He grunts in acknowledgement, looking too tired to speak, so I step out of the shower and dry off quickly. After squeezing the water from my hair, I walk into the bedroom and drop the towel, then climb naked into bed and pull the sheets over me, settling into the pillows as fatigue pulls at my eyes.

Several minutes pass, but Rashid doesn’t come out. Instead, I hear his voice from the bathroom, sounding like he's taken a call. And he doesn’t sound happy. He emerges with his phone pressed to his ear and quickly dresses in black slacks, buttoning on a fresh shirt. I sit up, hoping he'll explain, but he seems very angry.

“Get everyone together right now,” he barks into the phone. “I don’t care what time it is. If they hit the warehouse, we move tonight.” He pauses, listening, then growls, “No excuses. Eyes on every exit. Call me when it’s done.”

My stomach tightens. The gentle man from the shower has vanished and the monster has returned. He straps on his holster and shoves his feet into his boots, taking the sidearm from the bedside table.

“Rashid?” I ask quietly, scooting closer to him.

He barely looks at me. “Go to sleep, Emory.” Then he leans forward, kissing my forehead roughly, and says, "I'll be out late."

I can't even protest as he heads for the door. Something serious is happening, and I have no idea what it is. But whatever is happening, I really hope he'll be safe. I'm starting to wonder if Ican survive this life now—not because I hate him bringing home violence or the fact that someone could come after me.

I'm afraid maybe one of these times Rashid might not come home.

26

RASHID

Devid takes the wheel and I climb into the passenger seat. When things like this happen, it leaves me scrambling. I like order and control, and sudden shocks to my system only bring out my demons. We pull into traffic and he accelerates hard, not bothering with the speed limit at all.

"How bad is it?" I ask, grabbing the door handle as he punches the gas.

"Bad," Devid says, checking his mirrors before he changes lanes. "Multiple shooters, heavy fire. Igor said the front of the building looks like Swiss cheese and he's counting the casualties now.At least one fatality."

This only gets worse by the minute. We shouldn't be losing men over this. How the hell did they find out where our warehouse is? "How many men did we have there?"

"Six on rotation tonight," he says. A truck cuts in front of us and Devid swerves around it, accelerating back into the lane without missing a beat. "Igor got there first and found the Gusev crews already gone, but we know they'll be back. It's probably a fuckingtrap. Mikhail showed up right after and they've been holding the perimeter since, waiting for us."

"And nobody called me when it happened?" I grit my teeth as I see a light ahead turn red and the car doesn’t even start to slow down.

"Igor tried. Your phone was off." Devid glances at me. "He called me instead and I came straight to get you." He blasts through the intersection to the tune of horns blaring and squealing tires, and he doesn't even look fazed.

My phone was off because I was with Emory and I didn't want to be disturbed, but that was obviously a mistake. The rain picks up and Devid flips the wipers to a faster setting as we skid around a curve. I appreciate that he's the one driving as the roads get slippery. I'd have wrecked us by now.

"What else do we know?" I ask him.

"Not much yet," Devid says, accelerating through the next light before it turns. "Igor thinks it was a crew of six or seven based on the shell casings outside. They came in fast, hit the building from the front, and pulled out before anyone could respond. The whole thing took maybe five minutes."

"So they're sending a message."

"That's what I'm thinking too," he says, clenching his jaw as he steers us onto the river road where the traffic thins out and the buildings give way to stretches of dark tree line. "They didn't take anything. They didn't try to get inside. They just shot the place up and left."

So he's trying to bait me for some reason. He knows I'll come running and wants me to show up. Which means this may endup being an ambush. But I can't ignore a direct attack on my property. I have to show up.

"This is exactly what he wants you to do," Devid says, taking a curve in the road without slowing down. "He hits your warehouse to draw you out, and when you show up angry and reckless he's waiting for you. You understand that, right?"

"I understand it." He doesn't have to say what I’m already thinking. Gusev doesn’t just want my product or my shipping lanes. He's trying to kill me.

"Then don't give him what he wants, Rashid. We should turn around." Devid starts to slow the car, but I pull my weapon out and chamber a round.