Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Suddenly, something hot and violent slid through my veins, poisoning me, at the thought of anyone touching him that wasn’t me. A snarl curled my mouth before I could stop it, and Maksim sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling back from me. His terror was potent. And before I could do or say a fucking thing, he turned and ran.
His pale skin disappeared into the trees on the side of the road. I rolled my neck to one side, then the other, as I watched him go, that violence still turning my veins black and my temper hot.
I would destroy Anatoly fucking Balakin and tear his whole goddamn organization apart if he or his men so much as had a fucking dangerous thought about Maksim fucking Arsenyev.
I shook my head, then prowled toward the woods. Maksim had done the one thing I’d warned him not to, and now with this fucking primal feeling rolling through me, this need to own, to fucking control leeching through my veins, I knew this thing between me and Maksim was about to take a turn.
And it was all his goddamn fault for running from me.
“I told you not to fucking run, mouse,” I called, listening to his feet trample through the underbrush. “Don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”
And then, like a blood hound after a bleeding deer, I took off after my mouse.
Let the fucking games begin.
Chapter Six
Maksim
I’d run.
Why the fuck did I run?!
Alfonzo had warned me of what would happen if I ran from him. He’d chase me, and goddammit, I’d done it anyway. I’d let my fear drive me, and I’d taken off into the woods. Woods I was unfamiliar with, where roots were everywhere, ready to trip me up. Tree branches slapped at my face and tore at my clothes. Briars ripped through my pants and tore my skin, leaving tiny bleeding cuts all over my body.
My lungs burned with every painful breath I sucked into my lungs. A stitch was already stabbing through my ribs, and my legs trembled beneath me. I wanted to stop, to rest. I just needed a moment to catch my breath, but if I stopped, he’d get his hands on me, and then what? What the fuck was his plan if he didn’t want to kill me yet? Would he torture me? The mere thought of being tortured had vomit rising up my esophagus.
I tripped, sprawling over the ground. My hands scraped along a rock in front of me, cutting my palms up and immediately turning them bloody. I made to push myself up to continue running, but a heavy boot planted itself between my shoulder blades, pushing me back against the ground. Every muscle in my body tensed, and my heart threatened to flop right out of my chest onto the ground. My bloody fingers curled into the forest ground, and I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing thickly.
How long had he been this close to me? I hadn’t even sensed him. He truly was a predator.
I’d never been trained for this shit. In this regard, Anatoly and his men had failed me. If I died, it was all their fucking fault. I was one hundred percent placing the fucking blame on them.
“So unaware of your surroundings,” Alfonzo mused, almost mockingly. He made a tsking sound that chilled the blood in my veins. He almost sounded disappointed in me. “You’re not even a challenge, mouse. Anatoly truly thinks so little of me, doesn’t he?”
“Fuck you,” I hissed, thankful my voice didn’t shake.
He snorted, then removed his boot. Crouching beside me, he wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, then tugged me up onto my knees. I tried yanking myself from his grip, but he just gripped tighter and forced my head up so our eyes connected. His head was cocked to the side just the slightest bit, and the way he studied me with those dark eyes unnerved me.
“Why did he send you after me?” he mused, his brows furrowing. “Surely he knows this job is above your level. And I’ve done my homework on you, Maksim.” I decidedly did not like the way my name sounded coming from him. Not after he’d been calling me mouse since our very first meeting. And I refused to focus on why his use of my name bothered me so much, especially when it shouldn’t. “None of this makes sense to me.”
“You think I fucking know?” I growled. “You think I wanted this fucking job, Aguado?”
He grunted and released me. I quickly stood to my feet and brushed my ripped pants off, barely biting back a wince when pain pulsed through my palms. Turning on my heel, I began heading back the way I thought I came. Fuck knew where the road actually was. I had no idea how long or how far I’d run, and it wasn’t like I’d tried tracking what direction I went.