Page 23 of Bratva's Mercy
I didn’t dare say anything else, too afraid I would cling to him and give in to the tears that threatened to fall. Shock was settling in after the crash, but knowing it and handling it were two different things.
Sergei lifted me like I weighed nothing at all in one smooth movement. There was no strain or hesitation. The humiliation from that alone cleared some of the fog from my brain.
“Put me down,” I demanded, but the words came out as a croak.
He ignored me.
Cold night air rushed over my face as he maneuvered me through the twisted door frame and settled me firmly in his arms. The sudden change in angle made the world spin violently.
“This is too much,” I said. “Put me down. You’re making me dizzier.”
“Sorry.”
Sergei set me on my feet beside the car. I leaned heavily against the mangled door, pressing my palm to the cool metal while I tried to steady my breathing. My skull throbbed, each heartbeat sending another pulse of pain behind my eyes.
I could have died.
Sergei reached back into the wreck to turn off the engine and retrieve my briefcase from the back. I didn’t even question how he knew to look for one. Was there anything this man didn’t know about me?
“Be careful,” he said.
“I don’t need your?—”
I pushed away from the car, but my legs immediately betrayed me.
They shook violently beneath my weight, muscles refusing to cooperate. The ground seemed to tilt upward, and my vision tunneled.
“Whoa—hey?—”
Another man I hadn’t noticed until then caught my arm before I collapsed onto the asphalt.
“Easy there,” he said, steadying me. “You probably shouldn’t?—”
One moment the stranger’s hand was gripping my elbow. The next Sergei’s arm clamped around the man’s wrist and yanked it away from me.
“I’ve got him.” The words came out low and dangerous, creating a sudden shift in the air. The other man stepped back instantly, raising both hands in surrender.
“Just trying to help.”
I stared at Sergei through the haze of my swimming vision. He looked furious. His face was set hard, jaw clenched as he steadied me himself. I could feel something coiling in him through his hold on me.
Possessiveness.
I definitely have a concussion. I’m not thinking straight.
The pain pounding behind my eyes made it impossible to chase the answer. My skull throbbed so violently, it felt like someone had wedged a crowbar between my temples. The world tilted again, and a moan slipped free from my lips. Whatever Sergei’s problem with the stranger was, I didn’t have the brainpower to figure it out right now.
“I’ve got him,” Sergei said again to the stranger, scooping me up, one arm sliding beneath my knees while the other that still held my briefcase supported my back. “I know where he lives and will take him home.”
“But I called the police,” the man protested.
“Fuck the police,” Sergei muttered, and kept walking. “I’ll have someone take care of it.”
“Sergei—” I pushed at his broad shoulders. Why was he built like a fucking tank? I couldn’t even get him to budge. “Put me down.”
We were almost at his truck.
“I can walk.”
