Chapter 30

"Fuck, fuck," the man whispers under his breath as cars pull up, surrounding us on the street, more men climbing out with weapons aimed right at him. His hand is in my hair like an angry little creature. Fear tries to twist through me.

Then I see Aiden with the rifle in his hand. Everything else fades away, even Mikhail standing at his side and the sound of Mom moaning as one of the big men handles her. It's like everything hones down to one single point. Aiden's lips are twisted in determination, his huge body seeming to pulse with protectiveness.

"Far enough!" the man yells.

"Roman, you stupid fuck," Mikhail snaps. "All you had to do was stop dealing the shit that kills your customers anyway. We were going to let you off easy."

The pasta in my belly swirls, and a crazy idea hits me. It's one of those ideas that would probably make me laugh if my life wasn't in danger. Sometimes, my throat is so sore that sticking my finger down there is painful. So I've pressed and pushed on my belly instead.

The idea grows, and I subtly poke at my stomach. I want to help. As pathetic as this is, as small as it is, it's something, right?

"Let's not make this ugly," Roman yells.

"Do I seriously have to point out that you're surrounded?" Mikhail snaps.

From behind us, Dimitri says in Russian, "It is time for this to end."

Roman shouts, "I don't fucking speak Russian."

Again, I almost laugh. Everything feels so surreal, so ridiculous. I don't even let myself think about how futile all this belly pushing probably is. Aiden keeps staring, his eyes narrowed, his chest rising and falling harder than it ever did in the gym.

Then it's like I can hear him wordlessly telling me a lot of stuff. I know how that would sound to anybody else, but our connection is so strong. Our bond grew almost sneakily, without me noticing, or maybe I didn't want to see. He helped me get over this—the sickness in my belly. Maybe not forever. Maybe there will be ups and downs, but?—

When I feel it coming, I turn. Roman gasps as I puke all over his shirt and his shoes.

I think the shock of it hits him the most. He's probably thinking, Did this bitch really just puke? Then he can't think of anything.

The bullet cuts right through his head. I hear Dimitri and Mikhail gasp, but when I turn, my body covered in blood, panic boiling in me, I see smoke curling from Aiden's gun. Maybe it's the adrenaline making me see stuff that isn't there. I don't know, but I see it. I see him standing proudly.

"That's it, fellas," Mikhail roars. "Your boss is dead. Are you going to give your lives up, too?"

I glance sideways, vomit burning my lips and throat, and watch as the two big men let Mom go. All around us, men move in, roaring at the two men to get on the ground. Aiden drops his rifle and runs over to me, pulling me into his arms and hugging me so tight it's like he never wants to let go.

"You're mine forever," he whispers, and I swear it's like he's about to cry.

Tears sting my eyes and slide down my cheeks. I wrap my arms tightly around his middle.

"Forever," he says again, passionately, as sirens ring in the air. "No matter what happens, no matter what sort of life you choose, no matter what I have to sacrifice, you belong to me, my beautiful girl, got it?"

"Got it," I say, pushing the words past the sobs that threaten to choke me completely.

"We've gotta go," Mikhail says, walking over. "Damn, Aiden, you smoked his ass. That was one hell of a risky shot."

"I wouldn't have taken it if it was risky," he growls. "I never would've risked Ania's life, but you're right. We need to get out of here and get Ania cleaned up."

I know he's talking about the blood, but I can't think about that. Instead, I whisper, "Can you carry me?"

"Always," Aiden says, picking me up and cradling me in his arms.

Maybe I should be strong. Maybe I should force myself to look at all the bloodshed. Maybe I shouldn't cringe away, but I don't have to be so tough on myself with my man holding me.

I'm his. He's mine. Whatever happens next, nobody can take that away from us.