Glancing up ahead and trying to figure out my next step, I come to a screeching halt, finding three men already there, waiting for me at the end of the alleyway.
“Fuck,” I breathe, glancing around in a panic, desperate for some kind of escape. I start backing up as they move toward me and for some reason, I find it impossible to tear my eyes off them, particularly the older man standing in the center. He has an air about him, something that screams danger.
He’s in a suit and the way he holds his shoulders and oozes importance tells me to keep my fucking mouth shut.
The two men behind me finally catch up and I feel the gun at my back, forcing me to walk forward and meet the men in the middle.
My eyes flick around, desperately searching to figure out who’s the weakest link, which one would I be able to take down, which one could I fool?
The suited man takes a step forward. “I wouldn’t, Oceania Munroe,” he warns, shocking me as he uses my full name, though I hardly hear him over the deafening pulsing in my ears as my blood pumps wildly through my body with fear.
“Who are you?” I demand, far too bravely for how I feel inside as I try to look over them in a new light. They clearly know me and I too easily just fell into their trap. These fuckers have been watching me, waiting for me.
He steps in closer and scans over my face, looking for something but I have no idea what. “I think the real question here is who the hell are you?”
I slam my hands against him, forcing him a step away from me, his closeness way too disturbing for my own liking.
The gun at my back moves to my skull. “Don’t fucking tempt me,” the guy murmurs at my back, his hot breath hitting the side of my face. “I’ve been waiting for my fucking chance to take out Dominic Garcia’s girl.”
Fuck. They’re Wolves.
I’m in more trouble than I could ever have known.
“Easy, Snake,” the suited guy demands, his sharp, deadly glare shooting up over my shoulder to the armed man at my back. “Hurt her and you’ll spend the next week in the cell.”
The gun instantly eases off the back of my head as a low, rumbly growl sounds behind me. “Yes, boss.”
“Boss?” I question, my eyes going wide as I stare at the man standing way too close. I suck in a sharp breath. No, this can’t be happening. “You’re Mikhail Russo.”
His eyes sparkle with danger and in the blink of an eye, he seems to grow a million feet taller. “Ahh, so you know who I am.”
I swallow back fear, doing everything in my power not to let on just how fucking terrified I am. “What do you want with me?”
He licks his lips and shivers travel right down my spine, turning my blood freezing cold. “I’ve been watching you, pup,” he says in a chilling tone. “You’ve been a very naughty girl spending so much time with those Widows. Anyone would think that you’re a traitor to your family.”
“Family?” I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a Wolf, girl, and have been since the day you were born.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and scrunching my face in distaste. “‘I'm no Wolf and I sure as hell am no Widow, but I know where my loyalties lie. I don’t want anything to do with your stupid gang.”
A hand shoots out and slaps hard across my face, leaving a stinging ache in its wake. “Watch your mouth,” Russo spits. “The Wolves are your family whether you like it or not. Out of respect for your father, I’ve kept my distance, but I’m not a very patient man. With Dominic Garcia now leading the Black Widows, it’s time for you to come home. You could be of great use to me.”
I laugh at him. “You think I'm about to come and sit by your side in your shitty little clubhouse and tell you everything I know on Nic and the Widows. Yeah, fucking right.”
“Careful,” he says, stepping into me and forcing me back a step, only to stumble over the gunman’s boot and fall into the brick wall of the alleyway. “Keep talking like that and my men may get the impression that you’re a traitor to who you are, to your father, and your family.”
Fuck. Being labeled a traitor by anyone is never a good sign, even if they’re not your people. That’s practically begging for a bullet through my temple, but at the same time, I won’t turn on the boys—they’re my family.
“I am not a Wolf,” I tell him, raising my chin in defiance. “And I sure as hell won’t be giving up Nic to you. I’d sooner die.”
His men step closer and I become completely surrounded by Wolves. “Let me at her,” one of them snaps. “She’s not loyal. She’ll only stab us in the back and cause problems. Just end her now before it gets out of hand.”
Russo places his hand against the guy’s chest and he instantly retreats, like some kind of lap dog. The two share a look and Russo’s little Wolf goes white. Apparently speaking out of turn is a big no-no and threatening to take out the girl that the boss man clearly has plans for is an even bigger mistake.
Russo looks back at me and somehow the leer he gives me is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s darker than my soul during those moments with Jude, it’s more lethal than Nic with a blade, and fuck, it’s a shitload worse than any damage my father could have ever done. He’s the real definition of a monster. The shit my boys bring to the table is just child’s play. This right here is the big leagues and I’m in over my head.
“Listen here, pup,” he says, folding his hands together and drawing my attention to a chunky, black ring on his left hand that has an engraving of a Wolf. He slips it off his finger and hands it to one of his men. “Whether you like it or not, you belong to me. You’re a Wolf and you’re going to be in my ranks. You are loyal to me.”
I swallow my protests, being smart enough to know when to keep my damn mouth shut, only when he looks to the tattooed man who’d chased after me and led me into this fucked-up trap, his next words have screams of terror tearing from my throat. “Turn her around.”
In a flash, the tattooed man grabs me and spins me around. I’m slammed back against the brick wall with both of my wrists locked in his tight grip behind my back. My face is pressed hard against the rough wall and I feel the brick slicing through my soft skin.
I fight against his hold, fearing the absolute worst. “LET ME GO,” I scream, desperately trying to free my hands and kick out against his vice-like hold.
I hear a strange sound, one that’s familiar but one that I can’t quite place. I try to peer around to see what’s going on, but the tattooed man holds me tighter. He steps right into me and I feel his horrid warmth against my back. “This is going to hurt just a little.”
My breath comes in sharp, terrified gasps as another guy steps into me and bunches up my hair until the back of my neck is completely on display. “NO,” I scream. “NIC IS GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THIS, JUST LIKE HE KILLED THOSE SCUM LOSERS WHO SHOT KIAN.”
Laughter sounds at my back and just as Russo takes a step closer, that odd familiar sound suddenly clicks and my blood runs cold.
It’s a fucking blow torch.
He’s going to brand me like cattle.
I scream louder, absolutely terrified for what comes next when a rough hand presses down over my mouth, muffling my cries. Russo steps in right behind me and the tattooed man moves out of his way but doesn’t dare let up on his hold.