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He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I grab his arm and stay by his side as he hollers something to Roman. Danil is already on his other side, both of them trying to calm him down, but Roman’s having none of it.
“You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?” he growls at the man before slamming his face down onto the bar. The loud crunch of his nose being broken has me turning my face into Vitaly’s arm. Everyone else has backed away, so we’re in our own little pocket of empty space as Roman slams him down again.
“Roman!” David yells, running over to us. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“He touched what belongs to me, pawed at her like a fucking animal.” Roman leans closer and spits on the man’s bloody face. “As if I’d ever let a piece of shit like this lay a finger on her.”
“She’s not marked!” the man yells. His voice is thick with pain and blood, and the whistling noise coming from his nose with each breath he takes can’t mean anything good. When I look at the bar and see a puddle of blood with a couple of teeth lying in it, I almost lose my supper.
Roman looks like he’s about to rip the guy’s throat out with his bare hands. His chest is heaving in his black suit, his hands are clenched into fists, and the dark look in his eyes is enough to terrify me, but right when I think it, he turns his green eyes to mine, and they immediately soften. He runs his eyes over me, checking to make sure I’m okay, and I know he wants nothing more than to pick me up and get me the fuck out of here, but when I see him start to step towards me, I give a quick shake of my head, letting him know that I’m okay and to not break from our roles.
Instead of coming to me like he wants, he says something to Vitaly, who then leans down and whispers in my ear, “Are you okay?”
I nod and squeeze his arm, hoping he’ll understand that I’m okay, and we need to keep going like normal. He says something to Roman that has him visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. He’s still holding the man against the bar, and when David steps closer, Roman gives him a look that would have most men pissing themselves.
“You can’t do this here,” David explains like he’s talking to a disobedient toddler instead of a man who’s ended more lives than I care to know about. “We have rules in this club, Roman, and the man’s right. Your pet isn’t marked. If you don’t want her to be touched by anyone else, then she needs to be marked.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Roman asks.
David sighs and points out two women, motioning for them to come closer. They don’t look thrilled about it, but they do as they’re told, knowing it would be far worse to disobey.
“See?” David asks, pointing at the tattoo on the girl’s left wrist. It’s a red viper in a perfect circle, biting its own tail. “Red means the girl belongs to the club. She can be used by anyone.” He points to the other girl’s tattoo. It’s in the same place, but this viper ouroboros is black. “A black viper means she’s one of ours, but she’s privately owned, meaning no one else is allowed to touch her. Some that are privately owned are branded, but that’s pretty rare.”
“Branded?” Roman asks. He’s trying to hide his disgust, but I can hear it in his tone.
“Most don’t choose that, but it is an option.” David looks over at me and sighs. “Most men don’t bring pets from home, Roman, but it does happen occasionally, and we try our best to be accommodating, but rules must be followed.”
He turns back to Roman, and this time when he speaks, his tone is hard with a definite edge to it. “She gets marked right here, right now, or you and your brothers will never step foot in this club again.”
I tug on Vitaly’s arm and raise my brows at him like I’m asking him to interpret. He quickly catches on and spouts off a bunch of Russian that I don’t understand a single word of, but when he’s finished, I look at Roman and shake my head yes, willing him to trust me that I’m okay with this. They can’t get kicked out of this club. This is their one lead to Alina, and I’m not going to be the one to fuck this up. I’d never be able to face any of them again.
Roman keeps his eyes on mine, and I know he hates this. I can see it so clearly on his gorgeous face, but finally he turns his gaze to David and says, “Fine. We do it now.”
“Fantastic,” David says, clapping his hands and motioning for us to follow.
Everyone else has gone back to what they were doing, but I can still feel their eyes on us. Roman lets the man go, not caring when he slumps to the ground. He just steps over him and closes the distance between us. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me against him and kisses the top of my head.
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispers.
“Yes, I do, and it’ll be okay. I can do this, Roman. Please let me do this for you. Let me do it for Alina.”
He pulls back to look at my face, and the pain in his eyes kills me. When he cups my cheek, I lean into his touch and kiss his palm. He closes his eyes for just a second and then gives a tight nod before threading his fingers through mine and following after David. Vitaly and Danil stay with us, and when I feel someone give my shoulder a squeeze, I look up and see Danil giving me a small, encouraging smile.
We follow David into a small office, and when I see the vent, I dart a quick look to Roman, knowing this is the office we’d eavesdropped on the last time we were here. He squeezes my hand and turns back to David.
“She’s not getting a fucking viper tattoo. She doesn’t belong to this club.”
David lets out a soft laugh and opens one of the desk drawers. When he pulls out a tattoo gun, I start to have serious doubts about this, but there’s no way I’m backing out.
“Relax, Roman. I’m not that skilled of a tattoo artist. We have a guy who takes care of those tattoos when the girls first arrive.” He grabs a fresh needle, and I give a sigh of relief because at least I won’t be getting hepatitis C from this encounter. “I can handle a name, though.” He nods at me and says, “Tell her I need to tattoo her left inner wrist and to keep still.”
I look at Roman when he starts speaking Russian. I give a nod when he stops and hold out my hand to David. Before David can touch me, Roman grabs a chair and sits down in it before pulling me onto his lap. He grabs my forearm, keeping his fingers wrapped around me as he holds my hand back out to David.
“That man was one of our regulars. I’m going to be stuck paying his medical bills to make up for that fucking shit you pulled out there.”
“He shouldn’t have touched her,” is all Roman says. “You didn’t tell me she needed my name on her.”
“True enough,” David says, grabbing my hand and setting it on the desk so he can angle himself the way he needs. “And that’s the only reason you’re sitting here right now and still welcome in our club.”
