Lost Bastard

by India Kells

  In the ring, she saw the newcomer from that morning. Rusty had told him about his new recruit. The man was a sight for lonely women’s eyes. Tall with golden-blond hair, just long enough to run your fingers into, he was a Viking warrior from another era and had fallen into this gym. Her boss had told her to be careful with him, he was going through a rough patch, had just left the army. Or was it the Navy? She never could tell. But as he moved in the ring with Hector, she had no doubt that he would be successful in his newfound passion. And if he wanted, he could go into modeling, or be a movie star, or a porn star from what she could guess at under his loose gym trunks. With that body and that face, he could do anything. But one. Even as she was admiring this amazing, mouth-drooling male specimen, the warrior god didn’t stir anything inside her. Damn shame, as he looked like a good guy too. Very unlike the mean, tattooed, and sexy as hell son of a bitch that she’d had her hands on not so long ago.

  Forcing herself back to reality, and the computer before her, Deva was finishing typing up her reports when Rusty arrived a little later than usual and looking as if he hadn’t slept all night.

  “Good morning, Rusty.”

  The ginger-haired man rumbled a noncommittal answer before dropping on the sofa facing Deva. The coffee in his hand sloshed through the small opening and splashed over his workout pants, but he didn’t seem to care. Deva frowned and stopped typing.

  “Are you alright? You look as if you had a rough night. Or was it a lady who kept you out of your bed?”

  He grumbled before taking another sip of caffeine. Drops of liquids clung to his beard. “Stop. Stop. I’m too old not to sleep. Even for a woman.”

  “What kept you up all night, then?”

  Rusty’s head fell back on the cushions. “Damn Alek.”

  Deva blinked and coughed a little, surprised. “Well, I won’t judge you if you spend your nights with Aleksei Voronov. And as he’s not here this morning, it proves that you have more stamina than him. Good for you, boss.”

  It took a moment for Rusty to process her words but when he did, he jumped to his feet, spilling more coffee on the furniture. “No. No. No. That’s not what I meant.”

  Deva shook her head, an innocent look on her face, clearly teasing, but also fishing for information. “It’s okay. I won’t judge you or anything, free will, free love and all that.”

  “Deva, damn it. I’m not into men, don’t start spreading rumors like that.”

  She leaned back on her chair, linking her hands on her stomach. “Well, if you’re not doing something naughty with Aleksei, what were you doing with him?”

  The way her boss hesitated told her that it was something bad. And maybe even linked to something that could help her reach the man in a way that the failed sexual attempt she had tried earlier hadn’t.

  Rusty smoothed his beard, and it seemed as if what he was about to say was painful.

  “I’ve debated dragging you into this, but I might need your help after all. And for now, I have more power over him than he has over me, so it might be a good time.”

  He turned again to look at the men working out on the opposite side of his glass wall before finally closing the door.

  “I need your help, but even more, I need your discretion. Entire and complete discretion. Do you understand me?”

  And now her curiosity was piqued. At last, an opening! Leaning forward, she bit her lip. “What are you dragging me to? Something illegal?”

  Rusty winced, and Deva felt like a shark smelling blood. No way she was letting it go now. “That part shouldn’t cause you problems, especially if you don’t ask too many questions, Deva.”

  As if she wouldn’t. “What’s going on with you and Aleksei, Rusty?”

  He sat back again and took another sip of coffee. “Listen, I can’t tell you much, he would have my head, but Aleksei needs your help.”

  Deva’s smile faded. She didn’t know what the man had told Rusty, or if this was a payback trick, but she wasn’t about to give in that easily.

  “What kind of help?

  “He had a fight last night, a nasty one. He’s bloody, but mostly bruised and in need of your expertise.”

  Deva blinked, not sure she understood. “What fight? I didn’t see any fights planned out for him anytime soon.”

  Rusty winced but continued. “I know. It was a… private fight.”

  Private? And then it clicked in her head. “An underground fight ring. That’s what you are referring to, right?” Deva had personal knowledge of that circus back in the day. Savage fights that made MMA look like ballet dancing. This revelation raised another question. Why was Aleksei involved in that? He had the shape and the skills to go pro, but it would take a good reason or a valid threat to force a man such as him into that cage for a fight to the death.

  Rusty didn’t answer her question, but his face confirmed her suspicions. It was the point of no return. Her father’s motorcycle club was most probably involved in that, too. A risk of being discovered lurked. But Deva had given her word; she would try every possible trick she could to fulfill her promise to Beatrice, even uprooting her life once more.

  “How badly is he hurt?”

  The older man sighed in defeat and with obvious relief at her words. “When I left him at his place, he was hurting all over, but there may be more injuries than he told me. I hope he’s not bleeding to death internally. Damn, his opponent was massive, it was sheer luck that he beat him. But there is more.”

  There was always more where the underworld was concerned, in Deva’s opinion. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s next.”

  “There’s another fight in three days, one he can’t miss.”

  Could a fighter that was wounded and on his knees, recuperate enough to be battle-ready in three days? Another memory flashed through her head, giving her the answer.

  She waited a beat before answering. “I’ll do my best, Rusty. But you’ll have to cover for me. I might not be able to take all the appointments with the guys here, and I fear I will need all the time I can manage with Aleksei in the hope of getting him back in shape. And for that, he would need to let me in. Let me help him. I have doubts about his willingness.” Deva was careful not to reveal too much to her boss.

  Rusty reached into his pocket and threw her a key. “His access code is my phone number. He had to change his previous code. It was the only way I could remember it. Do your best, Deva. It’s the first time I have seen him in that state. And I fear that the next time he steps into this Godforsaken cage, it might be his last.”

  Chapter 8

  Deva hitched her bag higher on her shoulder as she gaped up at the building before her. When Rusty had given her Aleksei’s address, she thought it would lead her away from the city, in the closest suburb, into a dark alley. Maybe something similar to where she used to live with her own family. Instead, her GPS brought her downtown, close to Michigan Avenue, a few streets toward the pier. The location was so close to it that she could see the wheel ride from a distance. The brick building was a converted factory, in a quiet street with mature trees. A very cozy, familial feel, and so unlike Aleksei in her humble opinion. A wealthy location too.

  Entering the lobby, Deva located the staircase to her left and started climbing. At the top floor, she walked down the hallway and unlocked Aleksei’s condo’s door. Once in, she disabled the alarm system as Rusty had instructed. When she turned around, it was dark; there was no light inside, only fading sunlight filtering through the drawn curtains.

  The space was vast and open. On the left was a dream kitchen with an expense of gray marble counters and stainless-steel appliances. In front of her was the living room with a huge TV hanging on the wall. The large L-shaped couch seemed made of dark brown velvet, or something equally as soft.

  All was in order, clean and very masculine. Tasteful. Again, so unlike Aleksei.

  There was one door on the left, two doors on the far right. Two of the doors were open, while the third was closed. The f
irst open door housed the bathroom, and the second a spare bedroom. That left the master bedroom behind the closed door.

  Leaving her bag by the front door, she padded toward the bedroom. Not knocking, she slowly opened the door, as silently as she could so as not to disturb him, only to be welcomed inside by the barrel of a gun aimed at her.

  Her heart didn’t have time to skip when Aleksei, on the other side of the weapon, lowered it down.

  “Damn it, woman. You have a death wish sneaking up on me like that?”

  Still in bed, a white sheet running low on his hips, Aleksei put the gun on his nightstand while holding his side with his other arm. It was difficult to see them at first because of the ink, but Deva noticed the mean-looking bruises all over the exposed skin. And his face appeared as if he’d had a fight with a baseball bat and lost. But it was his hands that drew her eyes and squeezed her heart in sympathy. Swollen, the knuckles were caked with blood. He’d had time to shower, but it hadn’t stopped the bleeding, and the exposed wounds revealed so much more.

  Glaring at her, he couldn’t hide a wince. He must still be in a world of pain, and with the way he favored his side, he may have a broken rib. Which was bad news if there was a fight lined up in less than a week.

  “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

  She made sure to remain stoic at his attack. Instead of flinching, she gave him her most stubborn glare. “Bark all you want, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What?” If she wasn’t mistaken, he blinked at her answer.

  “You are in no state to make me leave, so lie back down in bed. Rusty sent me to take care of you, to get you back into shape quickly, so my first order for you is to lie back down.”

  The injured man cursed in what she supposed was Russian but remained upright.

  “You need to rest and follow my instructions if you want to be ready for your next bloody fight and not die. In the state I see you in, probably with this level of pain just at being touched, I doubt you could sustain a punch without fainting.”

  Aleksei growled as she approached. “I don’t want your hands on me right now, Deva.”

  “They all say that, but after I’m done with them, nobody is dissatisfied.”

  His strained expression mellowed a bit. “From my last experience with you, woman, I was. So fuck off.”

  Ignoring him, Deva went to the window and closed the drapes. When she turned around, Aleksei was about to get up. Instinctively, she put a hand on his shoulder, a spot she hoped didn’t hurt, and on contact, one of his hands shot out to catch her wrist. How quickly he moved and the strong hold made her gasp, and something must have alerted him because Aleksei immediately relaxed his grip. Instead of bruising, his fingers only circled, featherlike. Drawing a calming breath, Deva forced herself to look at his face. In quick succession, she saw anger, surprise, and concern. Before he could ask a question, she diverted him.

  “I’m not here because you want me to be here. I’m here because, for some obscure reason, Rusty wants to help you. And with the little information he gave me, and what I could guess on my own, you won’t survive the next fight unless your body can manage it. You may be a fucking bastard, not caring about anything else but yourself, but Rusty cares. And I care for him. Do you want him to have your death on his conscience? If you want to get killed down in that cage, suit yourself, but walk away from Rusty before you do.”

  Something moved in his unblinking gray stare, and she hoped she had reached him somehow. What she had said was mostly true. Rusty was a good guy, and even if she’d only known him for a few weeks, she wanted to protect him. Also, part of her didn’t like the glint of self-destruction she could see in Aleksei. He may be an insensitive ass, but even asses had the right to live.

  The fingers around her wrist opened, and he finally relaxed, lowering his head against the pillows. It seems that they had reached a silent, and tenuous, understanding. Once he let his guard down, she could feel pain radiating from him.

  “Tell me where you hurt, Aleksei.”

  The fighter half laughed and winced as a result. “It would be easier to tell you where I don’t.”

  “Are your ribs broken?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ve had broken ribs before, and it doesn’t feel like it.”

  Deva nodded and took another step closer to the bed. “Let me see.”

  His fingers gripped the cotton sheet and pushed it down enough to bare his stomach. Gently checking the bruises on his torso and abdomen, she tried to distract him from her poking at his bruises.

  “Another surprise, I would have thought you the kind of man with black satin sheet on his bed.”

  The man arched an eyebrow in barely disguised amusement. “Not unless I have company, solnyshka.”

  Deva blinked at the words, the first she had clearly heard from him in his mother tongue.

  “Is that Russian? What does it mean?”

  “It is Russian. As for what it means, I’m not sure you are ready to hear it yet.”

  Somehow, she wanted to maintain the playfulness a little while longer. Light Aleksei was entertaining. “Insulting, is it? Careful Aleksei, you’re in no position to do so without serious risk of retaliation on my part.”

  She may have been able to hurt him badly, but compassion for his physical state prevented her. The man was in so much pain, even more than he showed, and it tore at her. The thought made her blink. There may be similarities with Aleksei and a beloved ghost from her past, but there was no way she could compare the emotional depth between them.

  Shaking her mind back to the present, Deva forced herself to give him a more clinical assessment. From what she could see, moving was excruciating, and as he told her, she didn’t feel any broken bone. She uncovered one leg at a time, continuing her assessment. He was starting to shiver, his body hot, bordering on a fever. Not a good sign. Covering him once more, she put her hand on his forehead. As her hands were cold, she leaned forward to press a cheek against his feverish skin, the same way her mom had done when she was sick. He didn’t move, but sighed gently, making the tendrils of her hair move against her neck.

  “What did you take for the pain, Aleksei?”

  It took a moment for him to react to her. Deva hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes. When they opened at her question, they were glassy and slightly unfocused. “What?”

  “Did you take anything to alleviate the pain? Medication? Drugs?”

  He only shook his head. Deva helped him to lie down, rearranging his pillow. Looking around, she took another blanket and put it on him gently, making sure he was properly covered.

  “I’m gonna find you something for the fever and the pain. I’ll be back.”

  His lack of responsiveness and unusual passivity buzzed like an alarm in her head. She started to really worry then. Looking in his bathroom, checking all the cupboard and drawers, she only found a couple of ibuprofen tablets. At least she could start with that. Back in the kitchen, she went to get him a glass of water and quickly returned to his room.

  He hadn’t moved and looked peacefully asleep. Putting the tablets and glass on the night table, she sat beside him and stroked his arm, trying to wake him without surprising him.

  “It’s me, Deva. Wake up Aleksei.”

  He did and looked disoriented for a moment before his gray eyes fixed on her. “Deva…”

  “I’ve got some ibuprofen for you. Can you sit up a little and take them? I’ve got some water.”

  A knee on the mattress, she moved her arms around his shoulder to help him up, quickly giving him the tablets and glass before lowering him back down.

  “Rest, I’ll try to find something stronger for the pain.”

  “Don’t open the door to anybody. And put the alarm back on.” His voice was raw, his gaze fixated on her until she nodded. Only then did he relax again, slowly falling back to sleep.

  Deva closed his bedroom door and went to fish her phone out of her bag. She could call Gabrielle, but there was
no time for explanations and intermediaries. And she wanted to have something more concrete than underground fighting before contacting her. Instead, she dialed one of the people she trusted the most and who was certain to help her.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sasha, it’s me, Deva.”

  It took a moment for the woman on the other end to respond, but when she did, warmth made her Louisiana accent seemed brighter, reminding Deva of happier times and places.

  “Ma cousine chérie! Gosh, Cousin, it’s been such a long time since I last heard from you. Are you well?”

  Her cousin always had that warmth and energy in her. For as long as she could remember. Not that she saw her often these days, going into hiding had forced Deva to disappear from most members of her family on her mother’s side. And as Sasha was with Doctors Without Borders, being sent all over the world in war zones, family reunions were tricky.

  “Listen, Sasha, I can’t explain right now, but I need your help. More your expertise as a doctor.”

  Her cousins tone immediately changed, she was all business now. “Are you hurt? Because I’m stateside right now, if you need me I can take a plane to you.”

  Deva tried her best to calm her down. “I’m fine. It’s for a… friend.” How would she be able to explain this? “He’s an MMA fighter, and has been badly beaten, and has lots of bruises. And I think a fever is setting in. I gave him two ibuprofen tablets, but I can’t leave him like that. He’s in a lot of pain.”

  “Well, I can send you a prescription for pain killers, but the best thing is to keep him on the ibuprofen and let him sleep it off. If he’s as bruised as you said, the fever is normal, as long as it’s kept within limits.”

  Deva bit her lip. It wasn’t exactly what she needed to hear. Not if Aleksei had to be standing on his own two feet and in fighting mode in a matter of days.

  “And what if he had another fight? Like soon. And he couldn’t back out of it, what would you prescribe?”

  The silence on the line was telling. Her cousin knew exactly what she was requesting because they had faced the same situation ten years ago.