~Julie~
I swear to god, this man is trying to throw me from this bike.
He weaves in and out of traffic with no regard for his life, or mine for that matter. We come to a screeching halt outside of a very fancy looking gentleman's club.
I jump off of the bike, my stomach flip flopping around. He gets off, perfectly I might add, and reaches into the compartment behind me. He pulls out a duffle bag and tosses it to the snow at my feet.
"Put that on." He says.
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I said put that on." He snipes.
"I'm wearing this."
"Great idea. Let's stroll in there looking like you came to kill someone."
"We're going in?"
"Wow. You were the top of your class? Were the rest of them brain dead?" He enrages me so thoroughly it's a wonder I haven't shoved my knife so deep in his neck it pokes out the other side.
"Turn around."
"I've seen a woman's body before. You're nothing special." He says.
"I didn't ask for your life story, I told you to turn around."
He rolls his eyes and turns. "If you try to kill me, I'll break every bone in your hand."
I grab the duffle and run further into the tree line. I quickly shove my clothes off, the cold nipping at my skin. By the time I'm done, I look like an American stepford wife.
I shlump back into view. Mikhail turns around, a smirk on his face. "Well you look, never mind we'll be quick."
I look down at the truly offensive green dress he's put me in. He did this on purpose.
I storm forward, reaching for his leather jacket. He grabs my wrists and pulls me forward, so close out chests almost collide. I glare up at him, trying to seem much more intimidating than I am.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch me." He growls.
"You look like a fucking kidnapper. We're going to walk in and they're going to think that you're holding me hostage. Take. Off. The. Jacket." I snarl right back.
He shrugs it off, cursing as he does like a child.
"Roll up your sleeves to your elbows."
"No."
I just give him an unrelenting stare. He unbuttons his sleeves and starts rolling them up, all while staring at me.
One arm is heavily tattooed, covering the scars that mark the opposite arm. Slashes of all sizes crisscross up his forearms, some of them disappearing into the shirt.
His arms drop and I look away, pretending like I didn't see anything. We turn and start walking inside.
"There's a black box in the basement of this place that belongs to my family. You will distract them long enough for me to slip away and retrieve it. Should be a milk run." He says, ordering me around.
"Or you could distract them seeing as you're a mountain man and anyone with semi decent eyesight would catch you." I say. He side eyes me, but then stares forward, opening the door.
"Your funeral." He says. With that we step inside.
...
Everyone in the place turns towards the intruders who just walked in. Ivonav grabs my arm, pulling me closer. At first I think it's for protection, but I soon realize it's to make us seem like a couple when his hand skids over my back and lands at the small of it.
YOU ARE READING
Hell's Angel (18+)
Romance"She was the lightening and he was the fire that followed. Her anger was clear and precise, his would burn everything to the ground in one foul swoop." ... Mikhail Ivonav is the heir to the Russian Bratva. His father was killed in a suspicious manne...
