Page 71 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

I swayed on my feet, grabbing onto the wall. Everything was moving incredibly fast, but I seemed to be stuck in quicksand, hardly able to turn my head from one person to the next to keep up.

As soon as he saw his brother get knocked out, Mik roared with fury and began to pull out a gun. But somehow, Rand was all the way across the room, his club swinging in a raised arc, knocking the gun out of Mik’s hand. I watched it land and skid across the scuffed tile floor. Then Mik was down, his hands raised, and as he fell, he got in a swipe at Rand, who barely staggered back a step. Mik’s back hit the floor, his head bounced, his eyes closed.

No.

Everything flickered out. I clawed my way back to see a knife in Rand’s hand, long and evil-looking. In another blink, it was going to plunge into Mik’s chest. Hell, no.

All my confusion about his true life melted away. How his family made their fortune was of no concern when the father of my child was about to be killed right in front of me. The man who’d saved me and showed me how to speak up for myself without fear wasn’t about to die while I clung to the wall and tried to stay upright.

Finding a strength that was only possible because of my time with Mik, I hurled myself forward, my palms hitting the floor hard, my knees skidding into the gun that had been knocked out of Mik’s hand.

Rand looked my way, his mouth curling in a smug grin. What the hell was I going to do? I was useless, after all.

I shot him. Watched the smile turn into a grimace of pain as he crumpled into a heap, grabbing his shattered kneecap. I didn’t know how it was possible, but it was me who was smiling now, looking down at the gun while my finger slowly squeezed.

Mik grabbed it away from me before I could pull the trigger again, and got between Rand and me, one hand firmly on my shoulder as he aimed the gun at Rand’s head. He only moved it when another guy ran into the living room, taking the newcomer out with a single bullet. I closed my eyes against the blood splattering onto the wall behind him, but found it didn’t make me dizzy at all when I opened them again at Mik’s gentle squeeze.

“Help Luk,” he said, his gun trained on Rand again, moving slowly back and forth as Rand squirmed around in pain.

Pain I inflicted. There was that smile again.

I shook Luk’s arm, and he came to, jumping up to realize the situation was pretty well under control. I ran back to the bedroom and found the bag of zip ties, but Luk must have had his own stash, because when I returned, Rand’s arms and legs were already tied. He’d gone pale and limp, shaking from the pain of his blown-out kneecap.

I could have said so many things to him, but found I didn’t need to. He lost. That was enough. And I helped bring him down.

Luk grabbed him under the armpits and unceremoniously dragged him out front, and a moment later, I heard a door slam. I smiled again, imagining Rand in the trunk, fearful and in agony.

“Thanks,” Mik said, rubbing his wrist, which was swelling up from where he’d been hit by the club. “You saved my life.”

“I did?” I shook my head.

No, that was all Mik, saving me. It wasn’t me hiding in the closet this time, but Rand stuffed in a trunk. I wasn’t the one bleeding this time. In fact, I didn’t have a scratch on me, save for the slight marks from the zip ties.

“You were fucking amazing, Laurel,” he said, looking at me like I was some rare prize.

Yeah, I fucking was, wasn’t I?

It was only then that I was able to burst into tears and collapse. Straight into Mik’s arms.

Chapter 42 - Mikhail

I wanted to hold Laurel for a long time, but we’d just shot off a few rounds in a suburban neighborhood, and I didn’t want to know how many people were watching behind their curtains as my brother hauled Rand out to his car.

My wrist was sprained, and I’d been cracked in the head with a chair when Rand’s crew first surged in. Laurel was a mess, crying and holding onto me like someone was about to rip her away. Not now, and not ever.

“Come on,” I said, helping her up. “I’m shocked this place isn’t already swarming with cops.”

She flinched, probably remembering that I was the bad guy. Now I had to find a way to fix whatever nonsense her captor had filled her head with and hope she could forgive me for keeping secrets.

I carried her out, waving at Luk, who was going to take Rand back to LA. I couldn’t face the drive back, so I found the first hotel and checked us in to rest for a while. There was always a first aid kit in my car, so I rummaged for an elastic bandage, and once we were inside the room, Laurel wordlessly helped me wrap my wrist.

“You need an X-ray,” she finally said.

“Probably. It can wait. What about you?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Nothing more than a scratch or two.”

“Are you really fine?” I asked. She only stared at me for a moment before looking away.