He thought getting her away from the bodies would bring color back to her face. Instead, the pallor remained, her hands clutching her stomach.
Boiling water, he pulled a box of saltine crackers from the cupboard, taking out a handful. “Here. Eat these while I get the tea ready.”
Brittany took them from his hand, nibbling at one. Her stomach had imploded at the sight of the four bodies covered in blood. The lifeless forms had made her want to retch. Feeling her forehead grow damp, she swiped a shaky hand across her brows.
“Here, babe. Drink this.” Fuse handed her a cup of chamomile tea. “Do you want sugar?”
Taking the cup, she raised her head, eyes devoid of all emotion. “No…thank you.”
Fuse knew the look, seen the same dazed expression on the faces of those new to battle. He should’ve secured Brittany in her room while they moved the dead tangos. “I’m sorry. You never should’ve seen the bodies.”
Lifting the cup for another sip of tea, she shook her head. “You had other things on your mind.”
Setting a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed. “You’re my responsibility, Brit. Protecting you is my first priority.”
Taking another swallow of tea, her throat spasmed, causing her to choke.
“Hey, there.” Fuse rubbed her back, his broad hands soothing her as the last spasm ended. “You going to be all right?”
Nodding, she set the cup down. “I should leave. One of your men was shot because of me. And it could’ve been so much worse.” Sliding off the stool, she placed a hand on the granite island to steady herself. “Being here is putting everyone in danger.”
Gripping her arm, he stopped her from walking away. “This is part of what we do, Brit. People hire us to protect others. In this case, your father hired White Eagle Security and asked them to include me.”
“I can ask my father for a replacement.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Not happening. I took the job and I’m staying until you’re safe. Unless you don’t believe I can protect you.” Slowly walking them toward her bedroom, he moved his hand to rest on her shoulder.
Shifting, she glared at him. “Of course not, Scott.”
Guiding them into her room, he shut the door. “You should lay down. Rest for a while.”
Instead of moving to the bed, Brittany turned to face him. Cautiously, she ran her hands up his arms, wrapping them around his neck.
His narrowed gaze locked on hers. “Brit?”
Leaning into him, she allowed her head to rest against his chest, her body beginning to relax. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal.”
“My proposal?”
“The one where we have lots of sex without any expectations.”
An odd pang of longing raced through him. “Baby, it’s not a good idea. You’re reacting to what happened today, not because it’s what you want.”
“I know I’ve always wanted you, Scott.” She raised onto her toes, kissing his chin.
Reaching up, he gripped her wrists, pulling her hands from around his neck. “Trust me, sweetheart. If you push this, I guarantee you’re not going to like yourself later.”
Brittany felt a rush of uncertainty. Maybe the original offer had been a ruse to get her to leave him alone. Humiliation crept through her.
“I see.” She slipped her wrists from his grasp. “The proposal was a way to keep me away.” She let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. “How foolish of me. I’m usually not so slow.” Turning away, she stepped to the bed. “You’re right. I should rest for a while.”
Jaw clenching, his hands fisted at his sides. “All right.” Although it felt anything but all right. “If you need anything, I’ll be with the men.”
Heading to the door, Fuse hesitated a moment before coming to a stop. Taking in slow breaths, he closed his eyes. Turning around, he studied her. “Maybe when you’re over the shock of what happened today…” Realizing he had no idea what else to say, his voice trailed off.
Pulling back the covers, Brittany sat on the edge of the mattress, mouth twisting into a flat line. “No. It’s better this way. We can’t go back, reclaim our past. I’d hoped we could.”
Slipping out of her shoes, she pulled the covers around her. Fuse took a few steps toward her, then stopped. She’d closed her eyes, dismissing him.
Chapter Sixteen
“According to the gang expert Ethan brought in to inspect the tats, their ink doesn’t identify them as part of MS-13.” Wrath picked up the controller for the conference room projector, clicking to an image of several men. “Several tats match those of Butovo Bratva, or Butovo Brotherhood.”
“Shit.” Ghost tapped his pen on the table, mouth twisting in disgust.
Rock studied the images on the screen. “The Russian Mafia?”
“Affirmative. The Bratva has no qualms about using murder and violence to achieve their goals and eliminate competitors. For those unfamiliar with their structure, they’re part of a loose syndicate of gangs, known to us as the Russian Mafia.” Wrath clicked again, bringing up another picture. “This is a rare photo of the leaders of several syndicates. It’s a few years old, but most of the players are still in position.”
Fuse sat next to Mitch, leaning forward to study the picture of the Russians. “What else do we know about them, Wrath?”
“Not much, besides what’s in the dossier Raider put together. I do know the Butovo Brotherhood is considered one of the worst of the bunch. Brutal, unforgiving, and into the full spectrum of illegal activities.”
Fuse’s hands balled into fists. This was much worse than going against the Devils. “Why would they have an interest in Brittany? Isn’t kidnapping a senator’s daughter risky for them?”
“Nothing’s too risky for the Russians,” Mitch said. “The foot soldiers are very loyal. They’ll do whatever they’re ordered.”
Everyone’s attention shifted to Mitch. “Tell us what you know about them,” Wrath said.
“I’ll tell you what I can.”
Wrath motioned for him to continue.
“My team was sent to extract a woman. I can’t tell you the details other than she was being held by the Butovo Bratva. A great deal of Intel went into the op. The group is a structured criminal organization, as opposed to a gang. Most of the members grew up in south Moscow. The Bratva run legitimate businesses, but are also involved in the Russian underworld. They’re active in what we’d call traditional mafia activities such as prostitution, blackmail, bribery, extortion, human trafficking, arms dealing, credit card fraud, stock fraud, money laundering. The Intel also said they run online scams. If you can make money from it, the Bratva are involved. In my opinion, they’re the ones threatening Senator Blackmore.”
Wrath switched to another image on the screen. “You aren’t alone, Mitch. This man is Viktor Gelonkin. He’s believed to be the head of Bratva in the U.S. It’s also believed he is tight with the political leadership in Russia.” He rested his arms on the table. “Grayson is reviewing what we have.” Picking up his ringing, secure line, Wrath held up a finger to those in the room. “Admiral. I’m here with the men. May I put you on speaker? Thank you, sir. Go ahead.”