One second, I’m glaring up at him; the next, I’m scooped up in his arms like a baby. He’s careful to keep my belly safe—but I have no intentions of treating him anywhere near as carefully.
“Put me down!” I beat his back. “You psychotic Neanderthal—”
“Keep hitting me,” he interrupts calmly, striding toward the car. “You might fix all the s**t that’s broken.”
Engines snarl in the distance. Closer. Too close.
Over Sasha’s shoulder, I see Jasmine and Kosti looking nervously at each other. Then, as the bark of accelerating motorcycles rings out again in the night, they both jump into the car.
Sasha dumps me into the passenger side, then slams the door and locks it before I can crawl my way out.
“Seatbelt,” he orders, sliding into the driver’s seat.
He reaches over and yanks the belt acr
