“I will start at the bottom, I do not care.” Mikhail knew as his brother and former manager, Nicholai would do as told. They'd had a falling out when Mikhail wanted to stop being Igor Ivanhof, prize heavyweight, and live in obscurity in America. But he knew his brother was addicted to the adrenaline high of the fights, just like he was. “You still have contacts in America?”
“Of course,” Nicholai said, as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
“I am in shape. I am ready,” Mikhail said. “Book me a fight. I will win.”
“What has happened? Why do you change your mind?” Nicholai's voice was less angry now, more inquisitive.
“I am bored,” Mikhail lied effortlessly, glancing up at the door. He had a flash of the paramedics wheeling Gennifer out on a stretcher, and his heart clenched. But he forced the memory out of his head. “Can you do it?”
“I can,” Nicholai said. “But my fee has gone up. I want forty percent now.” Mikhail shook his head and chuckled. Nicholai would never change—he had always been a greedy opportunist. But that quality also made him a good manager. Besides, Mikhail didn't care about the money. He just needed the distraction. He needed an outlet.
“It is all good, dear brother. Call me when you have something for me,” Mikhail said with a humorless smile, then hung up.
***
The throbbing music felt like it was pumping right into Gennifer's brain. She tried to smile and laugh along with whatever Erica was saying, but it was difficult. Sunday night dinner was in full swing, and Gennifer felt like her brain was going to explode. Erica seemed to be having a good time, though. She helped Maria in the kitchen and brought Hector beers like she was some kind of Suzy Homemaker, smiling wide and not at all flustered by their rowdy, colorful clan. Maria and Yasmine danced in the center of the patio, their smiles wide. Big Jimmy and the other guys stood around the grill, laughing and fussing over the smoking chicken. Everyone was having a good time, except for Gennifer. Standing, she excused herself, handing Hector her half-finished plate of tamales.
Ever since her argument with Mikhail, she hadn't had much of an appetite.
There was a nagging feeling at the pit of her stomach that she couldn't shake. Something like dread, anger, and sadness, all mixed up and hardened into one tight ball. She walked across the patio, weaving through the crowd. Aaron caught her hand as she passed.
“Are you going back inside?” he asked, the joint balanced on his lip jumping with every word.
“Yeah, what do you want?” she asked with a sigh.
“Can you bring me some cake when you come back?” he asked, innocently.
“Get your own damn cake,” she said, but smiled in spite of herself.
“A big slice,” he said. He squeezed her hand, and she knew that was as close as she was going to get to a thank you.
“Yeah whatever,” she mumbled, pulling free of his hand. She pushed open the door to the kitchen, the throbbing in her head dulling to a mild roar as she got away from the party. She passed by Tiny and Brandon in the living room watching TV, and went right out the front door. Shutting it firmly behind her, she gulped in the fresh air and the solitude as she bent to lean on the railing. Her eyes involuntarily searched the dark street for a black motorcycle and a certain tall, intense Russian. When she didn't see him, she searched again, her eyes scanning each shadow. Her stomach clenched when she realized he wasn't there.
She'd gone too far. She'd lashed out at him violently, because violence was what she was used to. She'd punched him when all she really wanted to do was get on the back of his bike and let him take her where ever he wanted to go. Which didn't make any sense, because she barely knew the guy. He had gently comforted her and held her hand at the hospital, roughly finger-fucked her against a parked car, and was now holding her car hostage, but what else did she really know about him? Not much.
At least, that's what she told herself.
Booming bass shook the street and she looked toward the sound. A flashy Honda, decked out with obnoxious custom rims and a paint job to match, turned onto Big J's street and Gennifer groaned. On top of everything else, the owner of the car was the last person she wanted to deal with that night. She stood and turned, ready to head back into the safety of the house. Before she could, the car squealed to a stop and the car door flew open.
“Genny!” Donny roared, slamming the door closed behind him. She jumped, fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins at the sound of his voice.
“What the hell do you want, dickhead?” she asked, turning around. The sight that met her made her gasp in surprise. His right eye was swollen and a dark angry reddish-purple. His jaw bulged, and his cheek and lip were cut and crusted with dried blood. His left hand was in a cast, and he held it up protectively against his ribs like they were broken, or, at the the very least, bruised. “Shit,” she hissed.
“Don't you fucking run away from me!” he screamed, his voice carrying down the street. “You had that crazy motherfucker come after me, huh?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Gennifer asked, although she had a pretty good idea. Her eyes were drawn back to the car as a girl in a short skirt jumped out of the passenger seat and hurried around the car, as fast as her high heels would take her.
“I should beat the shit out of you for fucking with my career,” he said in a lower, more dangerous voice.
“You are so fucking stupid, Donny,” Gennifer hissed. “How are you going to come here and threaten me?”
“I can't fight, you dumb bitch!” He lunged toward her and Gennifer jumped back. “He sprained my fucking hand!”
“Boo hoo. Cry me a river,” she tossed out, her words more nonchalant than she really felt. Donny was dangerous, even when he was injured. Maybe even more so.
“Baby, calm down, okay?” the girl said, but she kept her distance. She wasn't stupid. Donny'd probably smacked her around enough that he had her trained.
“You better fuck off before Big J gets out here and sprains your other hand,” Gennifer said, her hand curling around the doorknob.
“I don't see Big J around, do you? I don't see that crazy Russian fuck, either. I just see you and me.”
Gennifer didn't bother waiting for what he was going to do next. She turned the knob and shoved open the door. Despite his injury, he was after her in a flash. She screamed as he stuck his foot in the door before she could slam it shut.
“Go away Donny!” she yelled, and she could hear the hysteria mounting in her voice. Despite it being years since their ill-fated romance, she still felt fear flare up in her when he came after her. As much as she liked to ridicule him and try to prove that he didn't bother her, he was still dangerous. He'd always been dangerous.
“You think you can do this shit to me?!” He banged on the door and she jumped again, but pushed against it back against him as hard as she could.
“I didn't do anything!” she hissed, kicking the door.
“Donny!” the girl yelled over them. “Let's go!”
“Shut the fuck up!” he roared. “Goddammit Genny, what the hell did I ever do to you?”
“You know what you did!” Gennifer screamed. “You know what the fuck you did!” Donny punched the door once more and the sound thundered in her ears. Then he pulled his foot back and the door slammed closed. Without thinking, Gennifer locked the deadbolt and turned around to look at the younger kids. Brandon stood behind her, like he was going to try and protect her. Tiny sat on the couch, eyes wide as saucers.
“What the hell, G?” Brandon asked.
“Watch TV,” she said rushing to the living room window and pushing the curtains back. She took a deep breath as she watched Donny and his girlfriend get back into his obnoxious car. His music blared again as his engine roared. Then he peeled down the street, wheels squealing. Gennifer felt her shoulders sag in relief.
“Rainbow!” Big J barked and she almost jumped out of her skin. “What the hell is going on?”
“
It was Donny,” Brandon said. “He was banging on the door.”
“Donny?” Big J asked. “Why didn't he come around back?” Gennifer shrugged, swiping a hand across her forehead, not in the mood to make up some excuse that made Donny look like anything other than the violent psycho he was.
“I don't want to talk about it,” she murmured vaguely as she pushed past Brandon and stomped up the stairs. She hurried down to the girls' bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She slid into the bottom bunk and rolled over onto her side. It was so bizarre to be back in her childhood bedroom, still dealing with old bullshit.
The door opened and she sighed.
“I'm tired. Leave me alone,” she mumbled, not even bothering to look at who came in the door.
“I'm not gonna leave you alone, Rainbow,” Big J said, his booming voice filling the small room. “I wanna know what the hell is going on around here.”
“Donny's an asshole,” she said, still not looking at him.
“I wanna know the truth,” he said, taking a seat on Yasmine's bed. The metal frame creaked under his weight.
“Mikhail beat him up,” she murmured. “He was mad, so he came after me.”
“Wait, back up.” She felt Big J's heavy hand smack her hip. “Look at me when you're talking to me, girl.” With a sigh, she rolled over to face him. It was hard to disobey him in his own house. Which was exactly why she had to get out as soon as possible. “Why would Mikhail go after Donny?” he asked, his dark eyes on her.
“Because.” She shrugged. “Guys are stupid. They beat each other up all the time.”
“I think there's a lot you're not telling me and I don't like it.”
“Well I don't like that you told Mikhail not to come around,” Gennifer said, sitting up.
“I don't like him, Rainbow. But you're changing the subject.”
“No I'm not. Why don't you like him? You tell Mikhail to stay away, but Donny has a standing invitation for Sunday dinner?”
“I've known that kid since he was eight years old. Maria is friends with his mother. He's family.”
“He's scum.” Gennifer crossed her legs and pulled her pillow into her lap.
“Does this have to do with that little bout of puppy love you two had?” Big J laughed, his belly shaking as he did. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, Rainbow. How many years ago was that?”
“It's not that, Daddy-o.” Gennifer sighed, realizing that she was finally going to have to tell Big J what Donny had did all those years ago. Steeling her spine, she raised her eyes to meet his. “Remember when I was sixteen and Hector had to take me to the emergency room after I fell down the stairs?”
“Yeah,” Big J said, nodding slowly. “You broke your collarbone and bruised your ribs.”
“I didn't fall down the stairs.” She squeezed her fist against the pillow.
“But you told me...Hector told me you fell down the stairs,” the big man said, but she could see in his eyes that he knew what she was going to say next.
“Donny beat me up. He got mad at me for some stupid reason—I can't even remember why. We got into a screaming match outside. He followed me into the house and smacked me around. When Hector got home, he took me to the hospital. Then I made him promise not to tell you what happened.”
“Gennifer!” Big Jimmy hissed, standing abruptly. “I let that sonofabitch in my house.”
“I took care of it.”
“You should have told me!” he growled.
“I know,” Gennifer agreed in a small voice, feeling like a teenager again. Big J shook his head and stared at the wall for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out what he wanted to say.
"Rainbow, protecting you has been my job since the first day you showed up on my doorstep. I been doing it for twenty years. But I can't do it if you won't let me,” he said gruffly, still not looking at her.
“I love you, you know that,” Gennifer said. “But I don't need you to take care of me.”
“But you want that motherfucker Mikhail to take care of you?” He finally turned to look back at her, anger written all over his face.
“I don't know,” she murmured, squeezing the pillow.
“That Russian bastard beats on you too, and I'm just supposed to let that go?”
"Mikhail is nothing like Donny,” Gennifer said, with absolute certainty. “Mikhail wants me to be strong. He wants me to learn to fight and be as strong as possible. None of you understand the difference, but there is one.”
“You were just in the hospital, baby. It killed me to see you like that.”
“But I'm fine now. Like you said, nine lives.”
“Every time you tempt fate, I get a head full of gray hairs,” he said with a deep sigh. “You got me over here looking like an old man.”
“Well I'm going to be out of your hair soon, so you won't have to worry.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Big J said, sitting heavily on Yasmine's bed again. “I'm your father. I'll never stop worrying.” They sat in silence for awhile and Gennifer's mind wandered to Mikhail. She wondered what he was doing at that very moment. She wondered if he was thinking about her, too. “So Mikhail beat up Donny, huh?” Big J said after a moment.
“Mm-hmm,” Gennifer said. “Sprained his wrist. He can't fight until it heals.”
“He was supposed to make his big debut in Vegas next week,” Big J said, chuckling a bit to himself. “Maybe your Mikhail isn't so bad after all.” Gennifer smiled and laid back on the bed again, her headache suddenly back with a vengeance.
“Glad you think so,” she murmured.
Chapter 21
“Have you been brushing your teeth?” Gennifer asked the little boy sitting in the seat in front of her. Julian nodded vigorously, smiling a gap-toothed smile. “Every morning?” Another nod. “Every night?” A hesitation, then another nod. She glanced back at his mother, a friend of hers from high school, Adriana. “His teeth look good. His adult teeth are coming in well. One cavity.” Adriana nodded, looking tired. “From eating too much candy?” she asked, turning back to the boy.
“No!” Julian shook his head, giggling.
“What kind of candy do you like?” she asked.
“Chocolate,” he said, thinking. “Grandma always buys me chocolate.”
“And what about soda?”
The boy nodded, eyes glittering.
“Okay. Well after you eat some chocolate or drink some soda, can you do something for me?” Another nod. “Drink a big glass of water, okay? Get all that sugar off your teeth. You think you can do that, just for me?”
“Okay!” he called out, squirming in the vinyl dentist's chair.
“Alright. Now go pick out your toothbrush at the front desk. I think we got a fresh batch of green ones.” Gennifer helped him out of the chair and Julian took off down the hallway. “You can make an appointment for a filling sometime soon,” Gennifer said Adriana. “Whenever you get paid next.”
“Thanks, G,” she said with a slow smile.
“Anytime.” Gennifer followed her down the hallway to the front desk. “Don't forget that floss!” she called out to Julian, who was digging around in the rabbit-shaped wicker basket they kept just for kids. Gennifer stopped short when she saw Mikhail standing in the waiting room. He stared at her and she felt her throat constrict. She cleared her throat and handed Julian's chart to Libby at the front desk
“Just a cleaning, this time. He'll need to reschedule for a filling,” she murmured to Libby, her eyes on Mikhail. After a long moment, she turned back to Julian.“I'll see you soon okay?”
“Okay!” he called out, clutching his new toothbrush. Gennifer waved to him, and gave a nod to Adriana.
“He was my last of the day,” Gennifer said, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already 7:00. “I'm going to go tidy up, okay, Libby?”
Libby nodded, staring at the computer screen. Gennifer motioned for Mikhail to follow her down the hallway to her room. She hadn't seen him for almost a week and the s
hock of him was still a lot to take. She could feel his heavy presence behind her. She could feel his intense gaze on her back. It sent sparks firing off under her skin. He didn't even have to touch her; his gaze was enough to send her reeling. She stepped into the small exam room and immediately put as much space between them as possible.
“I hope you brought my car,” she said, not looking at him as she closed out of Julian's chart on the computer. “I've been forced to take the bus and I hate taking the bus.”
“Here are your keys,” he said, setting them on the corner of the counter. Then he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was wrong to keep them from you.”
“I'm still not going to your apartment,” she said, finally daring to look at him. “But I accept your apology.”
“I am going away. I will not be at my apartment, so you will be safe from me,” he said, his voice cold. He held up a card with an address scribbled on it. He placed it on the counter beside the keys. “Go to the front desk. They will take you to your car.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, before she could tell herself not to.
“Do you care?”
“Not really,” she murmured, although of course she cared. He claimed to need her. He claimed to miss her. And yet, he was going away. “For how long?” she asked, anger flaring up.
“I do not know,” he said.
“Is this because I hit you?” She turned to face him, plopping her hands on her hips. “Because I'm sorry about that.”
“I deserved it.” He shrugged. “I was being an asshole, as you said.”
“What happened to your face?” she asked, finally giving herself an excuse to study him. There was a gash over his right eye. It looked several days old. His beard was growing longer as well and she hated it, she decided.
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