Page 17 of Climbing Everest

But they’d both reassured me they had never been in a relationship; they’d only fucked. Or at least fooled around.

Honestly…that doesn’t make the image in my head any less sexy.

Pushing to my feet, I pull the short skirt down as much as possible, though that does nothing about the dampness now soaking my panties or the warmth flooding my veins.

Thinking about Brix with anyone else really shouldn’t make me horny, but there’s something inadvertently sexy about a man so secure with himself that he doesn’t pigeonhole himself with one person or one gender.

Is that what Brix had done after I left, just fucked his way through Cedar Springs? He had every right, of course, but that doesn’t stop the jealousy from wriggling its way into my heart. I don’t have the right to feel jealous over anything any of the three have done since I disappeared.

Leading me through the same back entrance, Brix hits the key fob, unlocking the door and opening it before hoisting me into my seat by my hips instead of waiting and watching me try to scramble my way up into this beast of a truck.

I crane my neck to watch him walk around the hood, his jaw working like he’s grinding his teeth. His hair lifts on the wind and blows away from his face and I’m struck by the time that has passed.

He was always hot. Anyone with two eyes could see that. But Brix as a man with his tattoos, square jaw peppered with whiskers, and that long, thick hair…he’s so fucking beautiful.

His eyes raise to mine a second before he pulls his door open, and I try to pretend I wasn’t staring at him, but the smirk on his stupid face tells me he definitely caught me.

Whatever. I can look at whoever I want.

At least until the wedding day.

Although…yeah, I’m pretty sure Brix covered my boobs with the sweater earlier to keep Nico from seeing all of me.

So then why make me wear this getup if he doesn’t want other men checking me out?

I’m one hundred percent sure it was some ploy to humiliate me, but Kato was none too happy about me leaving the house with so little on.

Now that he’s seen only the one man looking at me, we’ll see if he demands I wear shit like this out of the house again.

Or maybe I’ll intentionally start wearing even skimpier clothes simply to fuck with them if they insist on constantly making me feel like trash over what I had to do to survive out in the world on my own with no support, no money, nothing.

We’re back to silence as he pulls from the lot and out into the growing traffic. But he doesn’t take the usual roads home.

I frown at him as he pulls up to a high-rise building, pulling into a secured garage before parking in a spot near the elevator doors. I can only assume it’s a reserved spot to be so freaking close.

“Why aren’t we going back to the house?” I ask.

But he pushes his door open, rounds the hood, then lifts me from my seat, setting my feet onto the pavement before swinging my door shut.

There’s a chirp behind us as he locks the door on our way to the elevator.

“Brix, where are we? What is this place?”

“It’s mine,” he says.

“Your what? Your building?” Because it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he or the others owned various buildings and businesses. They don’t make all that money solely through illegal activities.

“Yes. And I have a place here, too.”

I’m not sure whether the nerves sending butterflies flapping like crazy in my belly are from fear or excitement. Either way, looks like Brix wants some one-on-one time with me.

I have a bad feeling he’s going to force me to spill everything, to tell him exactly what happened the night that changed everything, including me.

The ride up is silent other than the soft background music playing through a speaker in the ceiling of the elevator. The walls are so shiny they’re like mirrors and I stare at Brix while he stares straight ahead.

When the thing stops with a barely detectable lurch, I glance at the number on the screen. Of course, he has the penthouse. If he owns the building, he’d want the best unit.

“Why do you have a penthouse but live with Kato and Madd?” I ask his back as he steps through the doors and directly into an overly modern and severely impersonal apartment. I don’t think I would even call this a home with the sterility of the space.

“Privacy,” he grumbles as he moves into the kitchen, opens a cabinet, and pulls down a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

He doesn’t bother asking whether I want some before pouring me two fingers and sliding it across the counter for me.

I take it and clutch it in both hands, then turn and survey the space. There are floor to ceiling windows that overlook downtown Cedar Springs. From up here, it’s almost pretty. It’s almost easy to forget the crime and darkness that festers down on those streets.

The kitchen and living room are an open concept deal with white walls and black and white tiled flooring. No rugs. It just adds to that impersonal feel and doesn’t mesh with the boy I knew who loved colors, textures and warmth.

But this man, the man Brix has become, is a bit cold. His eyes are more often than not hard and emotionless when they’re not shooting laser beams of hate at me.

There’s a hallway off to the side, but I don’t bother going snooping. I don’t think he brought me here for a tour.

He leans against the counter, bending forward so his sinewy muscular forearms are resting on the granite and wraps his giant hands around the crystal glass.

“Talk,” he says when I turn to look at him.

“I don’t…” I inhale deeply and blow it out in a rush through pursed lips. “B, this is so much. It’s a lot, and you haven’t stopped looking at me like you’re ready to snap my neck if I say the wrong thing since we were at my place.”

Has it really only been two days? Each hour has stretched on to feel as though I was thrust back into this life months ago. And each moment has been as uncomfortable as the last.

As though adding a punctuation to my thought, the large tattoo across my chest – that I have yet to actually see – begins to throb and burn.

“Why don’t you tell me what you meant by Kato had to kill his dad because it was either him or me? And where the hell is Cora? No way would Kato have killed his mom.”

But if her husband was dead, she would have finally been free.

She could have remarried, though she would have still had to marry someone in the Family.

It was no different with the Bratva – wives were often traded from one man to the other if their husband died to prevent having to outright kill them to keep them from snitching to the police.

His jaw moves, but his eyes stay glued to my face. He’s waiting for me to spill first.

Walking away from the counter and dropping onto the black leather couch – with zero throw pillows or blankets – I kick off my flats and tuck my feet under my butt.

Time ceased to exist as I lie on the ground in the fetal position, an unbelievable pain like nothing I’ve ever experienced ripping through my belly. I had been kicked over and over as I did my best to protect both my head and my stomach, but it hadn’t done much.

I ache everywhere. I’m positive I have a few broken bones, and at least a couple cracked ribs.

But what has tears spilling from my swollen eyes and into my hair is the fact the pain in my stomach is accompanied with a dampness, and I know I sure as hell didn’t pee myself.

It takes more energy than I have left to reach down and touch between my legs, raising my fingers to see them coated in blood.

No. Please no.

“Get her out of here. Leave her somewhere she’ll be found, but make sure it’s closer to the Greek’s territory. Her death will earn me sympathy and support from the community,” my father says.

I hear the words, but they sound like static as my head throbs and the blood rushes in my ears. Grief shatters my heart for more reasons than one.

That blood can only mean I lost the baby before I ever had a chance to hold him or her, and my father just ordered his men to kill me. Will Brixton, Kato, or Maddox ever know what really happened to me?

Yes. They will. And they’ll avenge my death. If I could, I might smile at that thought, at the image of my men storming this house and putting a bullet between my father’s eyes.

Maybe they’ll take their time torturing him and the guards who sounded as though they’d enjoyed every second of pain and injury they’d inflicted on me, drag their agony out for days before finally ending their lives.

I’m lifted from the ground roughly and tossed over someone’s shoulder.

It makes all the bruises, cuts, and breaks scream and I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth to keep from crying out.

My father doesn’t get anything else from me, and that includes the satisfaction of hearing how badly I’m hurt.

It doesn’t matter. It’ll all be over soon.

My body jostles and rocks and all I can do is watch the floor pass below my head as I’m carried through the house, out the back door, and dropped unceremoniously into the back of one of the SUVs used by my father’s men.

The door slams shut, and I blink a few times, staring at the dark sky through the darkly tinted windows. I can barely even make out the stars.

I rock and sway as the car makes turns, goes over hills, and stops at lights or stop signs. My vision and consciousness swims in and out, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die before whoever is driving actually gets me to the edge of our territory to kill me.

Going to sleep forever sounds good. Especially now. Between the physical pain and the way my heart feels as though it has shattered into millions of slivers, I’m not sure I want to wake up to another day.

No. I have to do what I can to fight my way back to my guys. They’ll forgive me. They’ll understand this wasn’t my fault. Then we’ll run away, build a life, and try for another baby.

We can get married and there won’t be a thing my father can do if I’m legally an Antoniou.

Kato’s father, on the other hand, might have a thing to say about his son marrying the only daughter of his rival. It always seemed so stupid to me, like one of those cheesy musicals where they have rival territories.

Shame the two Families can’t have dance offs like they did in the old black and white films.

I’m floating somewhere between unconsciousness and slight awareness when the vehicle comes to a stop, making my body rock.

When the back door opens, I throw out a hand and attempt to kick at the person reaching for me but I’m sure I look no different than a newborn who can’t control her limbs.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, but I catch a glimpse of Viktor a second before he lifts me from the hatchback with one arm around my back, the other under my legs. His hold is far too gentle for someone who’s about to leave me dead in the woods.

Viktor has been with my father for as long as I can remember. He’s always been my favorite, especially when I was little, but that might have something to do with the fact that he always snuck me candy when my parents weren’t looking.

My head lolls against his chest and I blink a few times, trying and failing to keep my eyes open or focus on his face for more than a second at a time.

“What the hell happened to her?” A female voice.

I’m set on something soft. Hands are touching me. My clothes are removed, and someone is cleaning me.

“Why is she bleeding down here?” the woman asks.

“Dima found out she was pregnant. She refused to tell him the name of the father.” That was the only explanation he offered.

But simply hearing that small explanation is enough to crush my heart all over again and start the waterworks. I can’t stop the influx of tears that leak from the corners of my eyes and trail down my temples.

“Fucking bastard,” the woman mutters.

I lose my battle to stay awake.

The next time I’m able to open my eyes, Viktor is hovering over me.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice low. “When you’re healthy enough, Karina is going to drive you out of state.

I left a little money for you. Get on a bus and don’t come back.

As far as the world is concerned…you’re dead.

Do you understand me? You can’t come back, or your father will make an example out of you.

And this time, I’ll be kneeling right beside you and your boyfriend when they pull that trigger. ”

Meaning Viktor will be killed simply for helping me.

I nod the best I can.

And then Viktor leaves. I don’t see him again, not when I get healthy enough to move around on my own, not when Karina drives me to Illinois and puts me on a bus, not when I arrive in Georgia and try to figure out how to survive.

The only thing that keeps me alive is knowing my father never discovered who impregnated me. My guys would be safe. As long as I stay away, as long as my father believes I’m dead, my three soul mates can grieve my death and one day find love again.

I just pray this time they’ll get the chance to hold their child in their arms.