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Story: Climbing Everest

But this is Kato. I won’t rip his throat out.

I will, however, beat the shit out of him if he tries to hurt her.

After a few moments of this tense standoff, Kato turns on his heel and storms from the room. “Figure the shit out yourself,” he says as he turns the corner.

Figure what shit out? Viktor? Was he talking to her, or Brix and me?

Because no way will we let her endanger herself in an attempt to rescue some old Russian fuck.

Okay, yeah. He saved her life. I suppose we owe him that. We’re technically indebted to him.

Doesn’t make me want to share space with a member of the Sidorov Bratva.

No. I’m not counting Everest as a member of that syndicate, considering she had no part in her father’s business.

So, fuck. We’ll have to figure out a way to extract him from the Sidorov estate without any of us ending up full of bullets.

What if he doesn’t want to leave? What if this Viktor dude doesn’t even work for Dima anymore? He could have since retired. Or been gunned down while working for the Bratva.

A lot ofwhat ifsand unknowns.

But one look at Everest, at the glassiness of her eyes as her bottom lip trembles and I already know I’ll climb the gate and walk right through the front door to find Viktor if that’s what it takes.

“We’ll get him out,” I reassure her, standing and pulling her into my arms.

“Why is he being such an asshole? He’s giving me fucking whiplash with his mood swings.”

I huff a laugh. “He’s always been an asshole. You’re just now seeing it.”

Brix grunts a sound of agreement.

Thing about Kato is his inability to express his feelings. Not that Brix or I could ever be called emotionally mature, but we don’t lash out at anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

Instead of telling Everest he’s worried about one of us getting hurt or killed while trying to save the man who saved her, he shut down and became a prick. That is a surefire way to push her away.

But hey, as long as she’s being pushed into my arms and not out of my life…I’ll consider it a win.

Chapter 19

Kato

After leaving the kitchen, I end up pacing the hallway, intending on going into the office to get some shit done.

But now that my cheek is throbbing and my anger is boiling to the point of overflowing, I take a sharp turn and jog down the stairs. I need to work off some of this energy before I do something we’ll all regret.

Wearing nothing but my sweats, I don’t bother wrapping my knuckles before I go to town, pummeling the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the massive home gym.

My dad used this space for less savory activities, like the fucking orgies he used to throw with paid – and sometimes trafficked – whores who entertained his allies or clients.

That was one of the first things I did when I took over, completely gutted this place in hopes of clearing the bad mojo from the space. Over the past four years, I not only changed the house, but the business, as well. Anyone caught dabbling in the skin trade in my territory met with my wrath.

That wrath used to be in the form of Maddox and his twisted sense of justice.

I can admit he looks…happier. There’s life in his eyes again, where he seemed as though he’d been walking around soulless before we tracked Everest down and brought her home.

This is her home.Weare her home.

Yet she just threatened to walk away. Again.