So I follow.
“Well, look what we have here.” Tristan grins. “You know, I’m not surprised to see these two here,” he nods over at Mav and Baron, who is also out of his car, standing next to me in a line of defense. “But you? I don’t remember the last time I saw you behind a wheel, Rozanov.”
“What do you want?” I grit out.
“What do I want?” Tristan stands up straight, taking a cocky stride towards us. “What a loaded question. Where should I start?”
His brothers Daniil and Yury are with him, standing off to the side, mimicking his smirk and swagger. But really, they’re children who don’t stand a chance if things turn ugly.
“We could start with my fist in your teeth,” Maverick says.
But Tristan only laughs. “You want to fight old school? We’re on the docks, boys!” He turns in a circle, as if to seize the night, and his voice echoes out over the water. Then he turns to face us. “There are no cops out here. No rules. We don’t have to throw punches.”
“Good, because I’ve had a shitty day and I’m not in the mood,” I warn him.
“If we are going to fight, we should fight like men.”
Tristan lifts his shirt, revealing the butt of a pistol in a side holster. He’s trying to scare me. It’s cute, really.
“I will ask again.” I stand right in front of him, my shoulders squared. “But only once. What do you want? Because last I checked, you’re on Rozanov territory.”
Tristan chuckles and looks around. “You own the water now? As far as I’m concerned, this is where your side and my side split. And you’re on the line.”
Tristan pulls the gun and uses the stock to bump me in the chest.
“If anyone here is walking a line, it’s you, motherfucker.” Mav pulls a switchblade from his pocket and holds it out to Tristan’s face.
“Cool it,” I bark out. Because who brings a Kershaw to a gunfight?
“Looks like someone needs to learn to keep them boys in line.” Tristan grins. “But I suppose that’s not easy when you seem to have a hard time understanding your place as it is.”
“My place?” I spit out. I don’t have a weapon, but I don’t need one. I could strangle him in my sleep and toss him in the water without breaking a sweat.
“What do you got against my cousin?” he asks.
Fucking hell. I should have known this was the driving factor.
“Nothing,” I say. “Arranged marriage isn’t really my style.”
“Jenica is out of your league.” He nods up at me.
“So you want Ransome to fuck your cousin?” Mav asks.
He shuts up after that, and not because I put my hand out as a warning. Tristan has the pistol pointed at him as a threat.
“There are rules,” Tristan says.
“Because you’re such a rule follower,” Baron snorts. Meanwhile, Daniil and Yury are standing on either side of him and slightly behind, like a triangle with Tristan at the head.
“You’re making her look bad, rejecting her publicly,” Tristan goes on. “You’re trashing the truce.”
“And you trash the Bratva,” I say back.
“Says the man who has the streets in a chokehold right now. You think we don’t know you’re up to something in El Paso? Our trucks stopped running. The resources have been outsourced, as they put it. A bigger buyer. You know anything about that, Rozanov?”
“I know that the negotiations we choose to make are none of your business.”
He takes another step closer. The gun is tucked back in his belt, but his chest is against mine. “You better watch it. Your brother was mouthy too, and we both know how that ended for him.”
