Ivan’s anger made everything in the room warmer, his grip so punishing I swore he was trying to shove my body directly inside of his.
“What was I supposed to say? Delgado hasn’t been here in years. I thought I was keeping him complacent.”
“What the fuck were you operating on, Luis? Hope?Chance?You better thank your goddamn son because he is the only reason I haven’t shoved my fist down your fucking throat.”
Luis’ eyes zeroed in on Ivan’s hands and the severity in which he held me. The hand at my throat quivered beneath his temper, but I wasn’t afraid.
I’d never be afraid.
It was a brutal grip but nowhere near strong enough to make me dizzy. The blunt edges of his nails dug into the sensitive skin, leaving behind moon-shaped indents I’d marvel at later.
There was something desperate behind my father’s feverish stare as if he was pleading with me for reassurance. As if I owed him that. Ivan walked through fire every day, but he’d never let a flame touch me. Comforting Luis in regards to my safety was at the bottom of the shit-I-cared-about list.
I felt… gross.
Delgadowantedme… like I was some sort of prize. A transaction.God.My gut rolled, and my brain couldn’t let go of a ‘what if.’
“What… what do you think he was going to do with me?”
“Whatever I wanted.”
No.
A flash of darkness caught my eye, and in my chest, my heart went wild with the same cautionary thump as it did all those years ago. A chill swept into the room, followed by a scent I gagged against.
Dominic Delgado appeared in the doorway, his gait slow and predatory, looking every bit as wolfish as I remembered. The knives on his belt clinked together with every step he took. His eyes were gunmetal and deep-set, vacant, yet something seemed to spark when they touched down on me.
Lightning crackled through my veins, and time slowed to a crawl. Ivan’s growl touched my ears, and then I was moving, forced behind him and plastered against his back. Possessive hands came down hard on my hips, and I knew I’d have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.
“Ivan Koslov.”
It was vile—the way he said my papa’s name. It had a robust effect on me, more so than my own name did, and I wanted to scrape every single letter off his tongue.
“Look at you, all buffed up and ready to fight. You still got that scar I gave you?”
“You still got a fucking hole in your head?”
“This is fun, isn’t it?” Delgado’s chuckle was disturbed. “Your new toy is the one I want for myself. I love a happy coincidence.”
Ivan was steady but rigid, shoulders pulled back and knees bending like he was preparing to pounce. The sound of a gun cocking silenced everything else in the room, and for just a moment, I was paralyzed.
A wave of dizziness passed through me, and that split-second sound looped in my brain.
Against my stomach, I felt the blunt, chilled metal of the handgun Ivan kept in the waistband of his pants.
He’s going to hurt your papa.
A veil of readiness tumbled down around me, and I grasped at calmness like it was something I could put in my pockets. Everything quieted to a whisper, and I barely felt the weight of the gun when I pulled it from its hiding place and pulled the trigger.
ChapterTwenty
Ivan
What thefuckwas he doing?
A single bullet blew from the chamber of my gun, firing past Delgado and slicing straight through the door frame. Marcos’ arms cocked back with the force of the blast, and panic seized his face when he’d realized he missed. He made a helpless sound, one that tore me straight down the middle. The big, brown eyes I loved so much sought me out, lined with fear and begging for help.
I leapt, taking us both to the ground. Flattening my shoulders, I used the wideness of my body to cover his, swallowing him whole while he shuddered against me. My ears were ringing with the close-range gunshot, pulsing with yet another, as I forced my boy across the room. His panic was palpable. The second I felt it, all the light in me was snuffed out.