Page 90 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

Oh, God. They were here. My body alternated between shock and joy, and the result left me shaking.

“Do you have any idea what we did when we thought Anton killed you?” Leo’s tone dropped. He scanned the room, and as though he found my entire family less than a threat, he continued. “We slaughtered every one of them. Every fucking one.” His teeth clamped together, a sure sign of his anger.

“Look what you did to us.” Viktor swept a hand toward his face, then Leo and Misha.

The motion forced me to look past the anger and into the hurt. It forced me to see the sunken faces and realize that Misha had yet to speak.

I’d thought them hard men when we first met. When I realized who they really were, it had proven my point.

But in all my time with them, I’d never seen them like this. None of them wore their suit jackets, and the button-up shirts I’d come to love no longer hugged their shoulders. They’d lost weight and muscle and gained a hardness that reminded me of the sharp edge of a knife. One wrong move and it was all over.

“You need to leave. Now.” Dad cut in front of me. “You are a threat to our daughter, and you are not welcome here.”

“Dad, it’s okay.” I ducked around him, putting myself directly in front of all three men. “They won’t hurt me. No matter how upset they are, they’re not a threat.”

“Peyton.” Dad tried to pull me back.

I shook my head at him, but even with my heart leaping from my throat as they stared down at me with hands fisted, I refused to believe they would ever lay a hand on me in anger.

And as much as I wanted to leap into their arms and hold them tight, I kept myself just out of arm’s reach. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. You have to understand why I did it. I could not be part of your world. It was too dangerous, and as long as you thought I was alive, Anton would not let it go. I would always be waiting for him to come after me.”

“So you convinced us you were dead and let us eliminate an entire branch of men. Anton included.” Leo dipped his chin to look me in the eye. “You’re just like the rest of them. You have no spine to fight for what you want but walk away as soon as things get hard. Did we not prove the lengths we would go to protect you?”

Yes, they had. That wasn’t the problem.

Viktor put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Leo, stop. We all know we failed to keep her safe. All our promises meant nothing when we could not stop Anton from taking her in the first place. She was not wrong to be scared.”

Damn it. My eyes watered, and I sniffed back tears. They’d been through so much. Viktor lost the love of his life when rivals killed her. Leo lost his when she walked away, like I did.

And Misha…

I met his broken, hollow gaze. Misha had perhaps suffered more than all of them. He had not looked away from me since the door opened. He didn’t break eye contact now, either.

I’d thought I could handle this, but the brokenness in his eyes ripped my heart in two. He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, a thick beard covering his face.

I’d never seen eyes as empty as his. “I hate this.” I took one step forward. “I hate that your pain was as all-consuming as mine has been. I thought you would grieve and move on.”

Misha flinched, his head twitching to the side, but he still held my gaze. “We have grieved.” Every word seemed to pain him.

Luka’s laughter rang out.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I couldn’t help the silent prayer begging Mom to keep Luka in the kitchen.

I should have known better. Luka was wily as a fox and as eager to be in the middle of the action as the three men in front of me.

He tore into the room with his usual gusto, his laughter the only bright sound in this dreadful moment.

34

VIKTOR

It couldn’t be. A little boy toddled into the room, his arms wide open and a broad smile on his upturned face. Dark eyes peered up at us. “Mama!” He scrambled closer, making grabby hands and cackling.

Misha stiffened beside me, a low, almost inaudible keening sound rolling from his parted lips.

“Mama?” The boy slowed his forward approach, a questioning look appearing when he had to tip his head back to look up at us.

Peyton bent and scooped him into her arms, where the boy nestled in with a contented sigh. He grabbed a handful of Peyton’s long hair and twirled it around his fist, the other curled beneath his chin. He muttered something to Peyton, and she patted his back.