Stone Cold Knockout

by Lavender Parker

  “I have a habit of being hit in the face,” he said, shrugging.

  “I know it was you,” she said. “Who got Donny.” He stared at her, his intense eyes unwavering. “Did you do it for me?” she asked softly. His face relaxed a minuscule amount.

  “Do not ask questions you already know the answer to,” he said, his tone matching her own. “It is boring.” She narrowed her eyes at him, aching to ask what it felt like to smash Donny's face in.

  “Gennifer?” Libby's voice called out and Gennifer jumped. Libby poked her head in the room. “I'm going to head out, if you're okay?” she glanced at Mikhail and then back to Gennifer.

  “I'll lock up. Have a good night Libby,” she said, nodding. Libby smiled and then walked away, leaving them alone again. Gennifer took off her lab coat, needing something to do. She tossed it over the dentist's chair. “When do you leave?” she asked, because she had to know.

  “Tonight.”

  “So you're going to leave, just like that?” She stepped closer to him, grabbing the stainless steel tray of tools away from the stand by the dentist's chair. “After what you said and what you did?” She closed her eyes as the memory of his fingers thrusting inside of her shivered through her brain. She slammed the tray on the counter, telling herself to get a grip.

  “Yes,” he said, simply, and she wanted to strangle him on the spot. “You need time. I respect that.”

  “I don't need time. I need my life back,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

  “That is what I am giving you,” he said, answering her anyway.

  “Don't do me any favors,” she shot back. He took a step toward her and she didn't back down. She lifted her chin, daring him to come closer.

  “The other day in the hospital, I did not tell you the whole truth about myself.” He lifted his hand and traced the scoop-neck collar of her wine-colored blouse. “I always liked this,” he murmured. Her breath caught in her throat but she didn't move away from his touch.

  “What else do you want me to know?” she asked with difficulty. He sighed and raised his hands to scrub them over his face. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting expectantly. Her hands were less likely to roam that way.

  “I left Russia and my old life behind because...” he trailed off and dropped his eyes to the floor. He was struggling, and Gennifer's interest was piqued.

  “Because...?” she urged.

  “Because Igor Ivanhof killed a man.”

  “What?”

  “I killed a man.”

  ***

  Mikhail watched her eyes change as she listened to his confession. She looked so beautiful in her pretty silk shirt and her tight black skirt and little pearl earrings. Looking at her in her professional clothes reminded him of all the mornings he'd watched her get dressed for work. He could smell her perfume in the air around him and he knew he'd be able to smell it on his clothes for hours after he'd left her.

  He hated to leave her, but he didn't have much of a choice.

  Now that she knew what he was, he doubted she would want anything to do with him anyway.

  “What do mean you killed a man?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

  “We were fighting. I hit him and he hit the ground,” he said, keeping the story as simple as possible. He doubted she wanted to know all the gory details. Well, actually, she probably did.

  “So it was an accident,” she said, carefully.

  “It was not as simple as that,” he replied.

  “I'm sure,” she said. “But you didn't mean to kill him?”

  “No.” He shook his head, Itzak's bloody face flashing in his mind for the millionth time. She stared at him and he could see the gears turning in her head. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered a lot of things.

  “So all this time, you've blamed yourself for that man's death?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you retired from boxing because you felt guilty?” she asked, and he nodded. “But you came out of retirement to beat Donny's ass?”

  “Exactly,” he said with a slight laugh because she understood. Of course she did. Nothing in his life was funny, but he laughed anyway. He stared down into her brown eyes and felt himself getting wrapped up in her again. He broke his gaze and took a step back. “I do not want to keep you, solnyshka. I came merely to give you your keys.”

  “And to say goodbye?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She turned abruptly and opened a cabinet to extract her purse. “I have to get going anyway. It's my first night back at House of Pain. I feel so out of shape.” His eyes ran the length of her, down her long legs. She was in perfect shape as far as he could see. Longing shot through him and he knew he had to get out of there. He didn't want to fight with her again. He didn't want to haul her up on her dentist's chair and lick her pussy until she moaned his name over and over again. He didn't want to bury his nose in her hair and fuck her without a condom until they both came. Well, he did.

  But he wasn't going to.

  “I have to lock up. You can wait outside, if you want,” she said as she pushed past him, not looking at him. Mikhail nodded and did as she asked, because he couldn't do what he really wanted to do. The air was suffocating inside the office, anyway. Her scent was slowly choking the air out of his lungs. He left the building, pushing open the door. Outside, the early September air was humid but with a hint of a chill, signaling that fall was on the way. Mikhail pressed the heel of his hand against his temple, feeling a headache coming on.

  The lights in the office went off and Gennifer stepped outside, newly dressed in her workout leggings, gym shoes, and T-shirt. Her hair, free and curly, cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She slid her gym bag over her shoulder, avoiding his eyes. Her keys jingled in the still night as she locked up, and then she turned back to him.

  “Did you bring your bike?” she asked, gathering her hair up and securing it in a ponytail at the back of her head.

  “I will give you a ride,” he said without thinking. She shook her head immediately, not even considering his offer.

  “I think I'll just wait for the bus,” she said.

  “You were scared the first time you rode on my bike,” he said, smiling at the memory. “But you liked it.”

  “I'm not scared,” she said, but then she peered around him to the street, where his bike was parked. “Where's your helmet?” Mikhail scoffed and shook his head. He had never worn a helmet; he wasn't going to start now. “News flash: that's dangerous. Take it from the girl who just had a head injury.”

  “I will get you to House of Pain safe and sound, solnyshka. Do not worry.”

  “I'm not worried because I'm taking the bus.”

  “You are always so stubborn,” he said, feeling a smile curling over his lips. She glanced down the street, as if debating what to do. Then she stared at him for a long moment, shifting her hips indecisively. Finally, she marched past him to the bike.

  “This is all your fault, you know. You should have just given me back my car,” she tossed over her shoulder. He followed her to the bike and straddled it.

  “But now I have you on the back of my bike. That is much better for me,” he said, glancing back at her as she climbed on.

  “You're an asshole,” she mumbled, adjusting herself until she was comfortable.

  “So I am told,” he murmured. He could see the fear on her face, not that she would ever admit to it. “Put your arms around me and do not let go.” She rolled her eyes, but she did as she was told, tightening her arms around his ribs. Her thighs clenched around his hips and he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the lust pass over him like a wave. Then he revved the engine. Her arms locked around him as they started to move. She held him tight as he sped down the West-Side Highway, squealing as he wove in an out of traffic. Eventually her frightened sounds turned to laughter and her arms relaxed their grip. She pressed her cheek to his back, relaxing into the ride, just like he knew she would. He dropped a hand to her thigh and she didn't
move away from his touch. He snuck a look back at her. Her hair blew wildly around her face in the wind and her brown eyes caught his and she smiled. He was just as much under her spell as he'd always been, he realized.

  For a second, he could pretend that they were back to normal. He was tempting to keep driving, to take her away with him. He didn't know where they would go, but for a minute he held onto the fantasy. However, he wasn't stupid. He couldn't leave his problems any more than she could.

  The ride was over too quickly.

  He rolled to a stop outside of House of Pain, dropping his feet to the ground to steady the bike. “That was fun,” she said, breathlessly.

  “I told you you would like it,” he said, coldness clawing at his chest as she disentangled herself from him and hopped off the bike. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright as she turned back to him. Her smile faded when she saw his face.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked.

  “No,” he shook his head.

  “Oh.” She fidgeted with her bags. “When will I see you again?” she said, still not looking at him.

  “I do not know,” he answered, not sure how long he would be able to stay away.

  “Okay,” she said, like it meant nothing. “See you later.”

  “Goodbye, Gennifer,” he replied. Then she turned and disappeared inside of House of Pain. He didn't waste any time. He gunned the engine and sped away, leaving all the pain and the longing and the uncertainty behind.

  He left his heart behind as well. He wouldn't need it where he was going.

  Chapter 22

  The rhythmic click click click of the jump rope and the drumming of her heart lulled Gennifer away from the gym and her workout and pulled her deeper into her own head. She was in the gym for the first time in two weeks, and it felt good to get her blood pumping and the oxygen flowing. But her mind wasn't on exercise.

  Her mind was on Mikhail.

  Tonight, he'd been cold and quiet. He'd held his body tight as if he didn't want to slip up and touch her. He kept his distance, revealing his past like he was certain she would be disgusted by it. Like he was sure she would reject him. Then he told her he was leaving. Just like that. After everything. He was leaving her.

  The change in him was startling. A few nights ago, he'd been angry. He'd been fiery and passionate. He'd been close to fucking her in the middle of the street. She had no doubt that if she hadn't run away, he would have bent her over his bike and showed her what she was missing. Then he would have taken her back to his apartment and fucked her some more. The wild light in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

  Gennifer closed her eyes for a quick moment, almost tripping on the rope when she missed the beat. Getting back on track, she forced herself to focus. Her life was so fucked up at the moment. Her main goal was to get as close to normal as possible. She was going to keep training and keep working and eventually, she would meet her goal. Mikhail didn't factor into that, she told herself.

  He was sexy as hell, but he was a distraction.

  She dropped the jump rope and swiped her sweaty forehead. Not wasting any time, she went to the weight rack and began doing bicep curls. She turned her back to the mirror, not wanting to look at herself. Tate and Austin were at the weight bench and she smiled at them. They smiled back, but she could see the questions in their eyes. They were wondering if she was okay. They were wondering if she was healthy enough to be back at the gym. She rolled her shoulders, letting their concern roll off her back.

  She hated feeling weak. She wasn't going to let them make her feel that way. She turned her eyes away from them and stared straight ahead at the empty ring. Before she knew it, she was racking her brain for memories. The scream of the crowd, maybe. The sound of her gloves hitting flesh. Anything that would make her remember Bout It. Despite her need for answers, nothing came to her. Frustrated, she lifted weights until her muscles cried out in protest. Then she slammed them back on the rack, sweat molding her T-shirt to her chest.

  “Christ. Has it always been this hot in here?” she asked Tate, as he walked by.

  “A/C is out,” he answered with a chuckle. She peeled her hair off her neck and fanned herself, glancing up at the office. Hector and Erica were up there together. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see them laughing. At least someone was happy, she thought.

  “Hey,” Tate said, turning back to her. Gennifer steeled her spine, waiting for the questions she was so used to hearing. Are you okay? How do you feel? How are you doing? “You talked to Mikhail lately?” Tate said, surprising her.

  “Yes,” she nodded slowly, wondering why he wanted to know. “Just today.”

  “Good,” Tate said. With a nod, he turned and headed toward the locker room. Gennifer furrowed her brow, wondering if Tate was friends with Mikhail. Tate didn't make friends easily, and he didn't like just anybody. She wondered what Mikhail had done to ingratiate himself. She wondered who else was friends with Mikhail in her family. Her curiosity piqued, she climbed the stairs to the office. She knocked on the door, not wanting to interrupt Erica and Hector's love-fest.

  “Hey G!” Hector said, his voice too cheerful. “When did you get back?”

  “Tonight,” she said, leaning against the door.

  “You look amazing,” Erica gushed.

  “Thanks. Do you talk to Mikhail?” Gennifer asked, cutting to the chase.

  “What?” Hector asked, confused.

  “Do you talk to him?”

  “When you were in the hospital I did. We're not exactly mejores amigos, G.”

  “Do you know where he's going?”

  “He's leaving?” Hector asked, leaning forward in the creaky old chair. Gennifer nodded, impatiently, and he shook his head. “Cabron.”

  “Why is he leaving?” Erica asked, cocking her head.

  “I don't know. I mean, maybe it's for the best.” Gennifer scratched her nose as a bead of sweat rolled off the tip.

  “You're kidding right?” Erica said. Hector gave Erica an annoyed look and turned back to Gennifer.

  “I think you should just focus on getting better, G. That was some crazy shit you went through.”

  “I'm fine, Heck,” she said, waving off his concerns.

  “I mean it,” he said, his eyes so sincere that she felt herself nodding.

  “Fine,” she murmured. “But you're sure you don't know where he's going?” Hector shook his head no and Gennifer sighed, not knowing why she cared so much.

  “Okay. Well. I guess I'm going to go home then.”

  “Big J's?”

  “No. I'm back home now.” She turned, her mind already wandering back to Mikhail. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Be careful, G!” Hector called after her, but she didn't respond.The gears in her head were already turning. She grabbed her bag from the locker room and headed out the door. Once outside, she flagged down a cab. She had no intentions of going home. Not yet, anyway. She had to make a stop first.

  ***

  “Ms. Gennifer, how good to see you,” the doorman in Mikhail's building said, his dark face breaking into a white smile. Gennifer glanced around the gleaming, slate-tiled lobby, surprised at the luxury. Mikhail had money, obviously. She should have guessed. “Mr. Ivanhof has left you this,” the doorman continued, sliding a white envelope across the gleaming black marble counter of the front desk.

  “He's not here?” Gennifer asked, her heart jumping in her chest.

  “No ma'am,” he shook his head. “But you can go right up.” Curious, Gennifer picked up the envelope. Her name was written in black ink on the front, and she ran her thumb over his slanted writing.

  “I'm not going up. I just need to pick my car up from the garage,” she said vaguely, her mind preoccupied with what was in the envelope. She had come to finally wash him out of her hair, but here he was, drawing her back in. After she picked up her car, she would have been officially done with Mikhail. He was leaving and the sooner she forgot about him, the soo
ner she could get back to normal.

  “Ah. The garage is right through that hallway,” the doorman said.

  “Thanks,” Gennifer murmured, giving him a distracted smile. As soon as she pushed through the door leading to the garage, she tore open the envelope. The only thing inside was a key. Attached to the key was a small fob labeled “20H.” She stopped in the middle of the walkway, staring down at the key. He was gone, but he'd given her a key to his apartment? Turning the metal key over in her palm, the urge to go upstairs took over. Glancing up, she could see her white Mini Cooper, parked near the front of the garage.

  All she had to do was get in her car and drive home. Then she would be done with the confusing conundrum that was Mikhail. And yet... the curiosity was driving her insane. Gnawing at her lip, she stared down at the key that was burning a hole through her hand. It took her another minute before she was heading back into the fancy lobby on her way to the elevator bay.

  The plain white door unlocked with a loud click and she pushed it open. Immediately she was assaulted with the smell of him. She took a deep breath as she stepped into the dark apartment and closed the door behind her. She ran her hand along the smooth wall, searching for the light switch. Light flooded the front of the apartment when she found it. Mikhail's apartment was nothing like what she expected. It was decorated in all white, with sleek modern furniture and a big wool rug. She kicked off her shoes, not wanting to dirty the rug and then padded through the apartment, turning on lamps as she went.

  In the kitchen, she opened the fridge and the cupboards, not knowing what she was looking for. Signs of him were everywhere, but so were signs of her, strangely enough. Her brand of organic cereal was on the counter and a pint of her favorite ice cream—Tahitian Vanilla—was in the freezer. She opened the container and found it half empty. Without thinking, she found a spoon in one of the drawers. Carrying the ice cream to the living room, she froze in the doorway, a spoonful halfway to her mouth.

  A huge bouquet of yellow tulips was on the sideboard in the living room, next to an old record player. Licking the spoon clean, she crossed the room and ran her fingers over the soft petals. How did he know? She racked her brain trying to remember if she'd told him what kind of flowers she liked in the hospital. There was a card tucked amongst the blooms and she pulled it out and read it quickly.