Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(97)

Suddenly, Anton's iron grip broke. He let go, stood, gaining his balance as the truck shook. I watched him walk over to the two big men crouching by the trailer's door. The other two stood, and all three men huddled in a big, manly embrace.

“Skol'ko let, skol'ko zim!” One of them said.

“Fuck you, Lev. It's been too many years and too many seasons. I never thought I'd get outta that f*cking place.” Joy rumbled in Anton's throat as he growled.

Another man lifted his head, and it was almost as big and powerful as Anton's. “Three hundred and ninety days. That's how much time you did in there, you magnificent bastard.”

Their faces were similar, minus Anton's scar on the cheek. He laughed, ruffled the man's longer, wavier hair. “Leave it to you to track every f*cking second, Daniel. Fucking brainiac. You timed that shit with Rasch perfectly. Can't believe they didn't notice how bad he f*cked up the glass with that hammer you smuggled in.”

Daniel smiled. “Him and his brother are great actors. Good smugglers too. There'll be something extra in their checks once the cops' heat is off them.”

Crap. I realized I was staring at all three Ivankov brothers. If there was anything more imposing than Anton's flaming blue eyes and skull crushing muscles, it was having three sets of them just feet away, three big men who looked like they could bring the entire world down to their knees.

“Lev made me. I think he missed you more than I did,” Daniel said with a smile.

The third man stood up out of the huddle, even beefier and slightly shorter than the other two. He was top heavy like a bulldog, slabs of muscle rippling above the waist, unlike Anton's which was oh-so-evenly-distributed. His hair was darker too – short and almost black. He looked at me with the same bright eyes.

“What's the plan for the devotchka? She gonna keep her little mouth shut, or will we have to make her?”

Anton gave his brother a shove, rougher than it was playful. “Fuck you, man. We don't need to hash this out in front of her. She helped me outta the slammer. Calmer and more cooperative than I expected.”

Ugh. I really had, hadn't I? The realization made me sick. I wondered if I'd be charged with crimes myself for helping him, assuming I ever fled back to the normal world again. I tried to struggle up, but my whole stomach was knotting inside-out. My pathetic contribution to reuniting the Ivankovs joined with the trucks rough motion across what felt like a highway.

“That doesn't sound like you, Anton,” Daniel said. All their eyes were on me now, icy and unbearable. “You tie up your loose ends fast. What's going on here? You falling for this Ligiotti bitch or something?”

What? What did he just say?

Time almost stopped, along with my heartbeat. My eyelids fluttered and I watched an evil, knowing grin break out across Anton's face. He sat up from the bench where they'd flopped and stepped forward. I fought to scurry backwards.

My hand slipped, and I crashed down, almost banging my head on the rusty metal floor. It was his cue to flop down on top of me, hold me down, pour his hot breath across my throat.

I really struggled this time. I gave it everything I had, kicking and scratching, trying to bite his shoulder while my screams died against his thick skin through the open shirt.

“Shut the f*ck up, babe. Can't have you bruising your sweet face on this shit before we've pumped it for information.”

I couldn't breathe. When I stopped thrashing, he finally let my head roll to the side.

“You knew!” I sputtered. “The...the whole f*cking time...you knew who I was.”

Anton smiled, and his eyes narrowed, a confession in his droopy lids. “Yeah, I did. There was no mistaking a Ligiotti girl. Didn't have any doubt you were the finest piece of Italian mob ass I'd ever seen the second I walked in and saw you behind the glass.”

That set me off again. Anton sighed, his heavy chest shifting against me, holding me down. He grabbed my wrists and pinned me. Meanwhile, his wicked brothers laughed. Their harsh chuckles echoed in my ears.

“Let's be honest, your name's the reason you're here. I've turned down dozens of interviews before. Shit, I wouldn't have given you a f*cking second of my time if you weren't a Ligiotti princess, Sabrina. I played dumb. You took the bait. I won.”

Bastard! I thrashed against him and finally found a soft spot near his exposed shoulder. I bit him as hard as I could. I felt bone between my teeth, and then the iron sting of blood.

Anton grunted, laughed, and pushed himself against me. He shoved his shirt aside, giving me more space to bite him. My jaw went numb and relaxed at the insane reaction.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Suck it all out. I like this shit so rough it leaves permanent marks.” When he moved against my thigh, I felt how hard he was.

Jesus. He wasn't just screwing around. He was really getting off on my desperate struggle. Panic came down in an avalanche.

Nothing gets to this bastard, does it? Nothing!

Hot tears burned in my eyes. They spread through them, sizzled, turned my vision blurry. I stopped fighting.

“You done yet, babe?” He waited a few more seconds. “Okay. Good. Just lay back, Sabrina. Fucking relax. You keep doing what I say, and nobody gets hurt. Well, nobody except your * uncle.”

I shook my head, trying to comprehend how the hell I didn't see this coming. I was too selfish, too drunk, too focused on jump starting my career with that stupid blog. Now I'd screwed over my entire family.