The Kidnapping of Roan Sinclair

by Ashlyn Drewek

“How’s the golden boy?” “Sad,” I replied automatically, taking another drag off the cigarette. Eduard lifted his dark brows at me. “Sad?” “Listen.” I held up a finger. The morose melody, accompanied by the rustling trees, demonstrated my point.

With a startled yelp, Freddy was gone. I turned in time to see him get slammed onto the hood of his own car by one very pissed off Russian. “Sasha!” I tried to shove him off, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He pinned Freddy to the car by his throat, completely unconcerned by the fact my friend was already turning purple under his large hand. “Get off him!” “Who the fuck is this?” The question was more of a growl, Sasha’s pupils narrowed to pinpricks. “None of your business!” “Should I kill him?” “No!”

Resting my forehead against his, I closed my eyes, keeping my hands on either side of his face. “I’m not going anywhere, Solnyshko.” “Do I want to know what you just called me?” The sparkle was back in his eyes, my little sun once more. Hopefully the storm clouds were gone for good. Chuckling, I kissed his lips gently. “Probably not.”

They were looking for you. I knew what I was doing when I shot at you. Now, until I can figure out how to fix this problem, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” “So you’re kidnapping me again?” He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, smirking. “Think of it as… sleepover.” “You’re not funny,” I huffed, slinking down in my seat and crossing my arms.

“You’re mine, Solnyshko,” Sasha said, tearing his mouth from mine and fixing me with one of his piercing looks, the kind that saw straight to my soul. “Yes?” I blinked and nodded, despite the fact I was still trying to work out what, exactly, he was saying. “From now on, you are mine,” he repeated in a growl. The words reverberated from his chest into mine, solidifying that they were real and not just my imagination. “No one else’s. Do you understand?”