Page 20 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

MAXIM

Something is wrong. I know it down to my bones. I’ve tried to gracefully step out of this conversation with a guy we’ve done real estate work for. In the past I prided myself on being charming and being damn good for business, but I’m getting pissed.

I’ve had my eye on the door to the bathroom almost the entire time, but there was a moment when I lost sight of it. It was just a moment. But I still can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

I should be taking this networking opportunity seriously but fuck it and fuck this guy.

“I’m sorry, my wife has been gone for a little too long and I need to check on her,” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice but it’s almost impossible.

The guy, whose name fucking escapes me at the moment, looks confused. “You mean the woman in the black dress you were with?” His eyebrows pull even closer together. “I thought she was married to your brother?”

I growl, unable to stop the sound but not giving a shit either way at the moment. Not when alarm sirens are blaring in my head and making it hard to think.

The need to get to our woman, our wife, is practically taking me to the floor. I need to move. Now.

Is this what panic feels like? It’s a foreign feeling to me. Being in control is something I pride myself on, but when it comes to Oaklynn everything that I’m used to flies out the window. The only thing that matters is her.

Without bothering to answer, I walk away from Mr. Whatever-His-Name-Is. I’m just about to reach for the bathroom door handle, not giving a shit about it being the ladies room, when the door flies open.

I jump back, my brain not catching up with what I’m seeing for a moment. Mikhail fucking Morozov is standing front of me, blood dripping from his nose and an arm wrapped around his torso like his ribs are hurt. His chest is heaving up and down as his wild eyes meet mine.

He snarls and barrels right through me. I stumble back but stay on my feet.

“Fuck no,” I roar and rush into the bathroom without even considering going after the man.

Not when our woman, the love of my fucking life, is in the bathroom.

I don’t give myself a chance to brace or prepare as fear crawls up my throat. Fear of what I’m going to find. Fear that I’ve failed her.

When I step into the bathroom, I almost stumble over my feet as I find Oaklynn leaning back against one wall. Her chest is rising and falling with her rapid breathing. Her brown eyes meet mine and all I can see is fire burning there.

A bruise is already blooming on her jawline and her lip is split. She’s clutching her torso as she slides down the wall. That is when I see a rip in her dress. It’s too much and my knees buckle.

I’m not sure if I’m more relieved or pissed.

“Go,” she gasps. “Go and get him. He was just here.”

“I know,” I tell her as I drop down to my knees next to her, the jolt giving me a bite of pain that I need in this situation before I lose my fucking mind.

“I was coming in as he was going out. He bumped into me, but all I could think about was getting to you and finding out if…,” my words trail off because my thoughts are just too fucking dark to give voice to.

If he had hurt you.

If he had raped you.

If he had killed you.

No matter how I finish the sentence, it makes my head want to fucking explode. I should be running after him. We’ve been hunting him for so long and he’s been keeping himself so well hidden in the shadows.

But if the choice is between going after him and making sure my wife is okay, it’s no fucking choice at all.

“Go after him,” she pleads but I shake my head.

There’s no fucking way I’m leaving her here. Not now, not fucking ever.

I pull my phone out and call Kirill. He answers after one ring, his voice on edge, “What’s wrong?”

“Get to the bathroom.”

I hang up without waiting for his response before I tuck my phone away. My hands hover over our woman, unsure if I should touch her or where she’s hurt.

“I’m fine,” she rasps.

The door slams open and the hulking bodies of Kirill, Baker, and Huck storm into the small room, soaking up the air in the process. Their eyes sweep over us and take in the scene before them. Their eyes harden and fill with rage, which I’m sure is exactly what happened to me when I first saw her.

“I’m fine,” she says again, this time the words sound like a resigned sigh.

“You’re not fine,” Kirill snaps. “You have a bruise on your jaw and there’s blood on you.”

Her shoulders slump as she nods slowly. “It’s not my blood,” she tries to argue, but it falls on deaf ears.

My brother’s rage filled eyes meet mine and I can see the questions. “I got sidelined while I was walking Oaklynn to the bathroom by a client. She continued on. I wasn’t far,” there’s a plea in my voice I don’t even try to mask.

I’m not sure what I’m pleading for. Understanding? Absolution? The guilt tries to take me under, but I fight against it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Oaklynn insists while grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

Normally her touch is soothing and something I crave, but right now it feels like acid against my skin. I almost pull away, but I stop myself. I’m not going to hurt her anymore than she already is.

“Who?” Baker questions, but I have a feeling he already knows.

I suspect they all already know.

With my head bowed, I tell them the rest. “I lost sight of the door for a second and then I couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed me. It took me longer than I liked to get away from the client. When I did, I was about to open the door to the bathroom when Mikhail came rushing out.”

“Mikhail was here?” Kirill roars the question, his anger reverberating around us in the small room in such a way that it might as well be a punch to the chest.

“He was,” Oaklynn confirms. “He underestimated me.”

There’s steel in her voice and I know it’s more than just words. It’s a reminder for us not to do the same.

Baker and Huck are on their phones even though most of their focus is on our wife. As it should be. I have no doubt they’re making calls to find out what the fuck happened to the men on the perimeter.

Mikhail should have never been able to get into the building. He should have never been able to get as close as he did.

And as he was leaving, he should have been grabbed.

“He hurt you,” Kirill seethes as he moves closer and crouches down.

“I’m fine,” she grits out, but I can see the pain in her eyes just like everyone else can. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. She looks at me, but there’s no resentment or regret there.

“We need to go,” Huck interjects, always the voice of reason.

He steps forward and offers our woman his hand. Her movements are slow as she slips her hand into his. When he helps her stand, she winces and lets out a grunt of pain which has us freezing in place.

“Not here,” she whimpers.

She reaches down and runs her fingers over the rip in her dress with sadness in her eyes. Even though I have no right, I step closer and press my lips against her forehead.

“I’ll buy you a million more dresses, Zolotse ,” I promise. “The only thing that matters is your safety.”

Her big brown eyes meet mine and for the first time in a long fucking time, it feels like I’m on the verge of tears. I failed her.

“Stop,” she demands.

My eyes pop open as I search hers. I’m not even sure when I closed them. A wave of pain, of self-recrimination, washes over me.

I hope the guys beat the hell out of me. Nothing less will do as penance because I allowed this to happen.

“No one has seen him,” Baker’s words are cold and unforgiving as he looks up from his phone, no doubt getting updates from the men who should have kept this event safe.

But what about me? I should have kept her safe. Instead, I’m watching the bruise darken on her jaw in real fucking time.

“Blaming yourself isn’t going to help anything,” Oaklynn’s words are soft.

They wrap around me like fog but barely penetrate. Rage and fear are on the battlefield and I’m not sure which will win at this moment.

Before I know what’s happening, Oaklynn’s lips are pressed against mine and a growl comes from the depth of my chest. The beast wants to be free.

Not to fuck our woman and show her who she belongs to, but to hunt down Mikhail and bathe in his blood. The beast wants to present his head to our mate on a silver fucking platter.

“Choose the rage,” she murmurs against my lips, coaxing the darkness in me to flare and consume. “Fear has no place in this. I’m fine,” her words are final.

Absolute.

I blink a few times, and her face comes into focus. Not just her gorgeous features, but the warrior within.

“Let’s go,” Kirill’s impatient order has us moving.

Instead of heading back toward the ballroom, we move farther away. We take the hallway and move in the same direction that Mikhail did earlier.

I don’t regret not going after him, not when it would have left Oaklynn alone and hurting. Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t wish I had him in my clutches.

If I hadn’t let him get away, I could be showing him exactly what happens to someone who hurts our woman. But revenge will have to wait for now.

When I catch Baker’s eye, he gives me a nod.

My shoulders relax slightly because I know he would have called in Wolfe and his team.

They’ll get all the guys who were supposed to keep Mikhail out of tonight’s event down to the warehouse.

Maybe they’re clean and Mikhail is just that good.

Or maybe we have a rat we don’t know about.

Either way, I’ll be able to vent some of my rage.

It won’t be enough. It’ll never be enough until Mikhail is bleeding out at my feet, and I can watch the life drain from his eyes.

This shit is exactly why Mikhail’s father was never worthy of the power he held. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Mikhail would have kept his father’s legacy going and we can’t allow it to happen.

It’s time to stop waiting for him to show himself. It’s time to burn everything down and smoke him out of hiding.

But, first, we need to take care of our wife. Then I’m going hunting, and no one is going to stop me.