Page 69 of Bought By Sin

Mila!

She was here.

Her arms were held back, leaving her defenseless to block a hit.

Her knees were scraped on the dirt floor as she wavered to stay upright.

Her head hung down with her short bob of waves shielding her face.

Her breaths wheezed out with the telltale sound of pain and the determination not to give up.

I didn’t think. I didn’t plan or plot.

I was here. I was in control again. Because as I lifted my arm and aimed my gun at the head of the idiot who wanted to demonstrate how they had been mistreating her, I was fully in power of the situation.

I delivered the proof of who was the boss, of who held the power and control. With one tug on the trigger, I blew his brains out. The bullet didn’t miss, piercing the back of his head and exiting through his eyes. A stained mirror on the opposite wall was immediately splattered with the spray of blood. That cyclops-like hole was rimmed with crimson as he canted to the side and dropped.

Mila reacted then, slanting away from him and jerking her head up.

She locked those blue eyes on me.

And my soul was healed again.

My life made sense once more.

Parting her mouth to pant and breathe faster, she gaped at me. With surprise. Utter shock. Disbelief? The range of emotions that flitted over her face marred with strikes and small cuts would be a sight I’d take to the grave. Because this was the last time I would ever allow her to be hurt again.

Not for the sake of a mission.

Not to please me.

Not because she had once been nothing more than a slave to buy and order around.

In the stark clarity of this moment as she locked her gaze on me, she was so much more.

She was mine. To save. To own. To worship and pleasure because in the depth of her gratitude as she realized I had shown up to rescue her, I knew that sooner or later, she would submit to me.

Seconds passed of us staring at each other with so many powerful things left unspoken between us. It was all the time I could allow to appreciate that she was alive. That she was still here to be with me.

Men turned, reaching for their guns to aim them at us, but they were already dead, too slow to come out of this alive with us outnumbering them. More could come to assist them in this compound, but we weren’t going to linger long enough for their backup to turn this in their favor.

We fired without pause. Picking off the assholes who’d captured Mila, we killed them. All but two, which Alexei had ordered for us to capture and bring in for questioning. We’d come here to steal intel and spy on Yusef, if he was even here somewhere. Now we’d be leaving with a couple of men to interrogate.

Through the comms unit, my brother instructed the men to bring two captives to question. I would’ve allowed one of these motherfuckers to live—only to die later after he’d been interrogated. But it wasn’t the time to argue.

Mila listed forward. She pitched toward the floor, like she was losing all of her strength to stay conscious and upright.

I rushed toward her, letting the men with me handle the rest of the details. Two stayed on lookout to get us out of here. Two more struck the captives we’d take with us.

I lunged forward to break Mila’s fall. She tilted down, unable to twist fast enough so she wouldn’t face-plant. In just the nick of time, I was there. Shooting my arms forward, I caught her and sank to my knees. Curling around her and careful to keep her from dropping any further, I tried to roll her as gently as I could. I pivoted, crouching to secure her against my chest. Then as I cinched my arms around her, one at her back and the other under her knees, I leaned into the momentum of rising to my feet.

She moaned softly. Reaching her hands toward me, she tried to grab at my shirt. To hold on.

“I’ve got you,” I told her roughly as I hoisted her fully into my arms.

She frowned, sinking closer to unconsciousness, limp and lax, barely able to keep her head up and not rolling back over my arm. I shifted her higher. I was already walking toward the door, and after another hoist up, she fit against me naturally. Her smaller, petite body was an easy load for me to carry with her head now propped against my shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” I repeated.