by Sandra Owens
“He was watching you?” Madison said after Lauren told her about the man in the hallway.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Her attention was on the wall monitor showing the bar area of Aces & Eights. She and Madison had been watching the goings on for a little over an hour. “Court doesn’t believe it’s a coincidence, considering the guy’s Russian. I don’t want to think about it right now. It gives me the creeps.”
She pointed to the screen. “Do they break up fights like that every night?” Nate and Alex were pulling apart two of the biggest men she’d ever seen. Not minutes before, they’d seemed to be best friends, until they’d decided to arm wrestle. Now they were circling each other, each accusing the other of cheating.
Madison laughed. “Pretty much, and they love every minute of it. Don’t let them tell you any different.”
“Nate wasn’t very happy to see us show up.”
“Ah, Nate. I secretly call him Grouchy Bear. But what he doesn’t want you to know is that he has a soft heart, especially for Alex and Court. By extension, that includes us since his brothers love us.”
“For you maybe, but he knows Court doesn’t love me. Nate only tolerates me right now.”
“Pfft. Take your blinders off, and you’ll see how Court looks at you. Maybe he doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s feeling it.”
Is he? If so, she was pretty sure he wasn’t happy about it. Even though they were sharing a bed, she couldn’t help but believe his feelings for her went no deeper than the sexual chemistry that had always existed between them.
“I think my situation with Stephan needs to be resolved before I can worry about what is or isn’t between Court and me.” She wanted a final confrontation with her ex-husband, while at the same time, she wanted to do her disappearing act. She still wasn’t convinced that dropping out of sight wasn’t the best option.
A large group of the scariest-looking men she’d ever seen walked in . . . More like swaggered in, as if they owned the place. Her gaze darted to the bottom left of the screen, where Court leaned on the bar, talking to a small wizened man, one of the few who wasn’t wearing a leather vest claiming his colors to any club. She’d learned about motorcycle clubs and their colors on her first visit to Aces & Eights, back when Madison was dating Alex.
At seeing the men enter, Court pushed away from the bar, his body stiffening. Like cats on silent feet, his two brothers appeared out of nowhere, coming to stand behind him, presenting a united front. Lauren didn’t know what was happening, but she wished she could go stand with them, help them protect Court.
“Who is that?” she asked when one of the men, the biggest one, stepped up to Court. The man’s face looked as if it was set in stone, no expression at all. Menacing was the word that popped into her mind. His friends—she did a quick head count—fifteen of them, crowded around him as if forming a defensive wall.
Madison leaned forward, peering intently at the monitor. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t like this,” she said, standing.
“Me either, but don’t even think about going out there. You’ll just make it worse.”
The air deflated from her lungs as she sank back onto the leather couch. Of course, she’d only make things worse, but she’d allowed a man to beat her to protect Court. She’d kept his name a secret to make sure he stayed safe. It was hard to let go of that mind-set.
“Aren’t you worried?” she asked. “I mean, it’s sixteen against three.”
“No it isn’t. Watch.”
Even as Madison spoke, others in the bar—the bartender, their cook, the little man Court had been talking to, as well as other patrons—formed their own wall behind the brothers.
Lauren’s heart rate spiked when the man who seemed to be the leader of the newcomers suddenly had a wicked-looking knife in his hand. “Oh, God,” she whispered.
Court had expected Dragon to show up once he’d posted bail. Dragon might consider it was conceivable that Court wasn’t the snitch who’d ratted on them, but he’d want to make sure. Thus, the showdown about to happen.
As his brothers, their employees, members of the Cubanos, who’d been playing pool until they realized some fun shit was about to go down, and Spider, who didn’t have enough sense to disappear at the hint of trouble, surrounded him, he eyed the brass-knuckled bowie knife with the badass curved blade that Dragon held up.
“You get a new toy there, Dragon, my man?” he asked. Dragon slid his thumb over the blade, and Court supposed the blood now dripping down the man’s hand was supposed to intimidate him. “Ouch. Bet that hurt.”
“Nothing like how bad you’re gonna be hurtin’ I find out you’re a fucking narc for the feds.”
“I got no use for the feds, dude. You were there. I got hauled away in handcuffs just like you.” Court let his gaze roam over Dragon’s club, the Satan’s Minions. “If it wasn’t me and it wasn’t you, you might want to take a look in your own house.”
The club members crowded in closer, the tension in the air so thick it was almost visible. “You better shut your trap,” said Stroke, one of Dragon’s men.
Court crossed his arms over his chest. “Or what?” The worst thing he could do with these dudes was back down or show any weakness.
“Or I’m going to beat the shit out of you. I resent your insinuation that we’d rat on our own.”
“Insinuation, huh? I’m impressed, Stroke. That’s a big word.” Stroke had at least fifty pounds on him, but that didn’t worry Court, nor did the knife Dragon still brandished. “You want to take me on?” he said, eyeing Stroke as the man bounced on the balls of his feet. Court held out his hands, bracing his legs. “Bring it on, dude.”
Like a charging bull, Stroke came at him, a chain suddenly appearing in his hand. Idiot. Court sighed and rolled his eyes. His brothers had his back, but they’d stay out of it unless Dragon’s club decided to gang up on him. The Gentrys were also busy keeping the Cubanos out of it, for the time being anyway.
Stroke swung the chain at Court’s feet, while at the same time lowering his head, aiming for Court’s stomach. Although Court enjoyed playing with the dude, he knew Lauren was watching them on the monitor. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry that he’d be hurt. With the intention of putting a quick end to this nonsense, he leaped, twisted his body, and kicked back, planting the heel of his boot hard on Stroke’s nose. The man fell to his knees, crying like a baby as he flattened his hand to hold his bloody face.
Court scooped up the chain Stroke had dropped and wrapped a length of it around his fist. Ignoring Stroke and the other members of the club, he leveled his gaze on Dragon. “You still want to call me a snitch?”
“No, we’re good, man.” He slid the knife back into its leather holster. “Unless I find out different.”
“Same here.” Court tossed the chain to Dragon. “You know the rules, dude. No weapons. That includes knives, guns, and chains. Leave them on your bikes or check them at the door. This is the only pass you’ll get. And get Stroke out of here. He’s bleeding all over my floor.”
Dragon glanced at his man, disgust on his face. “Stop your whining.” He lifted his chin to the club member closest to Stroke. “Get him out of here.”
As Stroke was dragged away, Court didn’t miss the glare coming his way. He’d made an enemy of the man, embarrassing him in front of his club. Too bad. Dragon would be able to keep him in line. Hopefully.
“Show’s over,” Nate said, dispersing the crowd, most of them grumbling about not being allowed to join in the fun as they wandered away.
Court glanced up at one of the cameras and winked.
After the bar was closed and everyone had ridden off on their motorcycles, Lauren and Madison came out of the office. Lauren came straight at him, and Court braced himself for a lecture on fighting.
“You were amazing!” She beamed at his brothers. “Wasn’t he amazing? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
There she went again, surprising him.
Lauren shook her head. “No way you could be faster. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it.”
“Well, shit,” Court muttered at seeing the gleam in Alex’s eyes just before his brother put him on the floor. He looked up at Lauren. “Do me a favor, G.G. Don’t ever challenge him like that again.”
“Wow,” she said, transferring her admiration to Alex. She glanced at Nate. “Are you some kind of ninja, too?”
“I leave the play to my baby brothers.” He walked to the bar, grabbed a beer, then went to a back table.
“That’s just sad,” Lauren murmured.
Court had always thought so. Even sadder in his opinion, that because of all the responsibilities dumped on Nate’s shoulders at a young age, he’d never learned how to have fun, yet he’d made sure his two brothers had playtime. Or maybe it was just that the old man had beat all the fun out of his big brother. Nate never talked about it, but both Court and Alex knew that Nate had protected them as much as he could, taking the brunt of their father’s punishments. But those were memories he didn’t want to revisit.
He pushed up. “I’m going to go wash my hands.” Who knew what was on the floor? “Join Nate.” He gave Lauren a quick kiss. “I’ll be there in a sec, and we’ll have a talk about just which brother you should be admiring.”
“The one who just got his butt put on the floor?” She patted his ass as he walked by.
“That would be the very one.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked, smiling at the grin appearing on her face. There had always been a sense of play between them, something he’d never experienced with another woman. She made him happy. That scared him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sitting at the table next to Court, Lauren half listened to the conversation between the brothers. She twirled the beer Alex had brought her, watching the condensation drip down the bottle. What was the deal with Court? Between the time he had left to wash his hands and returning, something had changed. One minute he’d been smiling and winking at her, and the next, he was practically ignoring her. Even his brothers were giving him odd looks.
“Madison told me someone was hanging around your hallway, watching Lauren?” Alex said.
“Yeah, a man by the name of Vadim Popov, Stephan and Peter’s cousin.”
Lauren tuned back in to the conversation. “He is?” That wasn’t something she wanted to hear.
For the first time since he’d returned from the restroom, Court looked at her. “Yeah. And you never met him or heard his name mentioned?”
“No. But Peter’s side of the house had a separate entrance, so it’s entirely possible he visited.”
“Not while you were still living there. Popov’s only been in the US for six months. He is staying at Stephan’s house now.”
“What do you know so far?” Nate asked.
Court leaned back in his chair. “Lauren can probably fill in any missing blanks, but my sense is that Stephan Kozlov was used to getting what he wanted without having to work very hard at it. He was a naturally gifted athlete, a hockey stick put in his hands at the age of two by his father, and then a professional hockey player on a Russian team. I’m guessing he was coddled by his family and coaches.”
“Stephan used to brag that he’d been a star player on every team he’d been associated with, from Russia’s Youth Hockey League on.” When they were dating, she’d been impressed, too naïve to see it as conceit. “He led his Russian team to a gold medal in the Olympics, and as he often told me, he returned home to a hero’s welcome.”
“That got him noticed by the Thunder,” Court said. “They signed him to an eight-year, eighty-six-million-dollar contract. Blond, blue-eyed, and rich, Stephan Kozlov had no trouble attracting the ladies. I found numerous photos of the man with different women on his arm, including some celebrities.” Court glanced at her. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. They can have him.” Too bad Stephan hadn’t zeroed in on one of them instead of her.
“Anyway, he was a player until he met Lauren. After that, it seems he never looked at another woman.” He took out his phone, brought up some pictures, and held it out to his brothers. “Scroll through them. Tell me if you see what I do.”
Alex leaned over, watching as Nate brought up each photo. When he finished, Nate’s eyes landed on her. “He always has his hand on the back of your neck, as if he’s controlling you. It wasn’t a soft touch, was it?”
“No,” she whispered, even now, years later, almost feeling Stephan’s painful hold. She pushed her beer away, her stomach rebelling at the little bit of alcohol in it. Stephan’s touch had never been gentle, not like Court’s.
Madison reached across the table, taking Lauren’s hand. “He’ll never hurt you again.” She eyed each of the brothers. “Right?”
“Right,” Alex and Nate said at the same time.
“Fucking right,” Court said.
Lauren squeezed her eyes shut against the tears trying to fall down her cheeks. She’d been alone for so long, not even telling Madison the half of it. It was hard to believe she now had these men at her back. She didn’t have the words to tell them how much this meant to her.
“Open your eyes, G.G.,” Court said, putting his hand in the same position as Stephan always had. The difference . . . Oh, God, the difference in his touch, so gentle compared to the fingers Stephan used to dig into her skin. Did Court even know that he was replacing bad memories with good ones?
She opened her eyes, meeting his. “What?” she asked. The air seemed to sizzle between them, and forgetting about the cold shoulder he’d been giving her, she leaned against him. He tensed for a moment, then put his arm around her, drawing her close. The gesture eased her worry, but only a little. There was definitely something on his mind.
“Do you want to wait in the office while I finish telling my brothers what I’ve learned?”
It was tempting, but no. “I need to hear it all, and like you said, I might be able to fill in any blanks.”
His eyes softened as he nodded. “Then let’s get this done. It seems Peter lived in his brother’s shadow. Although older than Stephan by four years, it was Stephan’s star the family had orbited around. I assume Peter didn’t show a talent for the game because there was very little to be found on him as a boy. His particular talent seemed to be making the right connections and managing his brother’s career. Their mother died—”
“Four years before I met him,” she said. “That was why he was so understanding of what I was going through, losing mine.”
“It was an act, Lauren.” Court took his phone back, brought something up on the screen, and then handed it to her. “Read this interview in a Russian newspaper shortly after she died.”
“He said his mother was the biggest bitch to have ever lived, and as far as he was concerned, good riddance?” she asked, after reading it. Stephan’s understanding and comfort during her own mother’s death was the only good memory she had of him, and even that had been a lie. After everything else he’d done, that shouldn’t hurt, but it did.
“It’s been translated into English, so there might have been something lost in the translation, but it’s close enough to the original to know what he thought of her.”
“He played me from day one,” she said.
Court nodded, sympathy in his eyes.
How could she have been so stupid? And why her? She’d like to ask him that right before she punched him in the nose. Better yet, she was going to do everything in her power to help Court send him right back to prison, hopefully for a long time. And if she had the opportunity, she still might punch him in the nose.
“I can see the wheels turning. What’s going through that mind of yours?” Court asked, taking his phone back.
“Whatever it takes to send him right back to prison, I’ll do.” Court stared at her for a long moment, and she held his gaze, letting him see her resolv
e to follow this through.
“This is the first time I think you really mean it.” He reached under the table, took her hand, and squeezed.
Had that been the reason for his running hot and cold? That he’d believed she would end up taking off? She turned her palm up, lacing her fingers around his. Why wouldn’t he think that if she’d done it once she’d do it again? Disappearing had still been in the back of her mind if she’d thought for one minute he’d be hurt because of her, and she was sure Court had sensed that. But no more. She was done with running.
“I trust that you”—she met Nate’s eyes, and then Alex’s—“and your brothers can take Stephan and Peter down.” She looked at Court. “I know you can.” And she meant it.
He let out a breath. “Finally.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, finally. Just don’t arrest me if I decide to do him bodily harm, given the chance.”
“We’ll hold him down for you,” Alex said. “Take all the punches you want.”
She laughed. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The smile faded from Alex’s face. “How much has Court told you about our father?”
Both Court and Nate jerked their gazes to their youngest brother. She shrugged. “Just that he wasn’t a nice man.”
Alex snorted. “Understatement of the year. He beat us black and blue almost every day of his life.” He glanced at Nate. “Especially Nate.”
Nate’s eyes hardened. “And your point is?”
The tension around the table stretched, making her uncomfortable as everyone waited for Alex to respond. She exchanged a glance with Madison, who gave her a little shrug.
Seemingly unfazed by Nate’s glare, Alex smiled at her. “My point is, Lauren, that we have a deep-seated aversion to bullies, ingrained in us from an early age. There aren’t three other men on this planet who understand better than we do what you went through. And you won’t find three men more dedicated to stopping men like Stephan Kozlov.”
“Amen,” Court said.