by Sara Hubbard
I clear my throat and drop my hand. “I have to leave soon,” I say abruptly. “Should I ask Yara to stay with you?”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“I’ll have to lock you in the house. There’s no way out, but you can try to leave if you like. I’m sure you will.”
She sighs and looks up at me with eyes so glassy they sparkle.
“Here,” I offer her a hand to help her up. “You need rest.”
She glares at me and bats my hand away. “What I need is for you to let me go. And I need to never see you or your family ever again.” On shaky legs, she forces herself to stand. I standby, ready to catch her, but after taking a long, deep breath she steadies and ambles back to her room with me close behind. She climbs into bed and pulls the covers over her before closing her eyes. I linger in the room, watching her. I don’t know what I expected from her when I brought her here. Did I somehow think she would treat me like she used to and that this would be easy? I scoff at the idea. Maybe Yuri is right. No good will come of this. Maybe ensuring her mom stays safe is the best I can do for all she did for me. Maybe that’s enough.
“Good night, Luna,” I say.
“I hope you die,” she says softly, and I’m confident she means it. Though, somehow her strong will makes me smile. She wasn’t feisty before. At least, not like this. I like it.
“Maybe one day you’ll get your wish,” I say.
“I’m not that lucky.”
After ensuring all the windows are closed, I alarm the house. The system is connected to my phone so I’ll know if she tries anything, and at any time, I can also watch the camera feed. Of course, she doesn’t know that. I want to see what she does when she thinks I can’t see her. However, I think she’s too sick to try anything tonight.
A small part of me considers staying in case she worsens, but I don’t give in to it. Taking care of someone is not something I’m used to or good at. Not to mention the fact that she clearly wouldn’t accept any help from me.
Regardless, I couldn’t stay home even if I wanted to. There’s an underground fight tonight, and my father expects to see me there. He wants me to bring the watch. Even if I wasn’t meeting him, I have another reason to go. The fight is between Emanuel Tudor and Frankie Fists. I haven’t seen this Emanuel fight before, and I’m fighting the winner of this match at the end of the month. I need to see how he fights. Discover his strengths and his weaknesses so I can come up with a solid plan of attack. I’m a good fighter—no, great fighter—but I’m smart about it. I study my opponents carefully, which is why, since I started fighting competitively, I haven’t lost a single fight.
When I arrive in the parking lot, Yuri is smoking a cigarette while leaned against the hood of his car. I see the faint red light from the end of the stick as I drive closer. I pull into the spot beside him. A blast of chilly air hits me when I climb out of my truck, so I zip up my jacket. It’s always colder by the water.
“Waiting for someone?” I ask him.
“You, of course.”
I smile at him. The ink blue ocean, much darker in the moonlight, waves quietly in the background while a sea gull cries. “I didn’t know you cared.”
With his lips attached to his cigarette the corners of his lip quirk up. He’s been smoking since he was ten years old. I think his dad bought him his first pack. He smoked half of them in a couple of days and then puked his guts out.
“You deal with your problem yet?” he asks.
“As far as you know, it’s already dealt with.”
“But is it?”
“Where’ve you been?” I ask, trying to distract him. “I haven’t heard from you all day.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He lets out a groan and flicks his cigarette to the pavement. “I’ve been running errands for your father. There’s a shipment going out tomorrow night, and we had to make sure everything was accounted for.”
“Why are you doing that?” My father usually has some of his captains take care of that shit.
He shrugs. “He’s having trust issues.”
I nod, knowingly. The only people my father ever trusts one hundred percent are his family, and even us, he’ll test from time to time. Thankfully, we’re all loyal.
I shove my hands in my pockets, and we walk. The parking lot doesn’t belong to the building they’re using for the fight tonight. Too many cars outside an abandoned building are a surefire way to attract attention. Instead, anyone who goes to the fights parks on side streets or in the parking lots of businesses close by.
The fight locations change all the time. Sometimes we go back to a building we’ve used before, but that’s rare. Underground gambling and fighting can mean big trouble, so the organizers are careful.
Yuri spends the walk over talking about the modifications he’s making to his car. I’m not into cars and never have been, but I appreciate them. And him talking means I don’t have to. Even with my cousin, conversation has never come easy. I guess I’m just a man of few words.
We reach the building a few minutes later. The old brick building used to be a factory that made medical uniforms. Soon, it’ll be reopening under new management, but for now, it lies dormant. We walk around the back. There’s a tall man in black there with his hands folded over his chest.
“Mr. Morozova,” the doorman says as we draw near. He opens the heavy door and waves us in.
Through the door, we pass down a long corridor with blue lighting above us. The walls are dark, and at the end of the hall, the staircase walls are black, so it looks like the hall is endless. Music plays in the distance, getting louder and louder with each step. It’s a mixture of rock and techno. It’s not exactly my style, but it sure fires me up when I’m about to fight.
At the end of the hall is another door and another doorman. I don’t recognize the guy, but he seems to recognize me. He opens the door and nods to me. The room on the other side is hopping. A ring is set up in the middle of the large open industrial space. Around it, there are about a hundred people talking and mingling. At the edge of the room is a long table with alcohol. There always has to be alcohol. It makes men who come here a little looser with their money. The bigger the bets, the better the pot. These fights may not be organized by my family, but we take a cut out of the profits and, of course, when I win, I always get my own cut, too.
We pass some men I know and stop to shake hands and say hello. I spy my father standing near some old machinery, not far from the bar. Ivan, my ex’s father, is on his right, and my brother Andrei is on his left. My jaw twitches when I meet my brother’s eyes. I feel like he’s always up to something, and we’ve never quite seen eye to eye.
I slap Yuri’s chest and point to my father.
He nods. “I need a drink.”
“You and me both.” But I won’t drink, not tonight. I need to be on my guard with Andrei around, and I need to be very careful with any conversation I have about last night. Lying comes easy for me, but so does knowing when others are lying to me. My father has the same talent.
A woman in a bra and tight leather pants stops me as I approach my father. She carries a tray in her hand with beer on it. “How about a beer, handsome?”
“Already taken care of.” I keep walking.
“Maxim!” my father says, calling me closer with the wave of one of his hands. I can tell from the sound of his voice he’s had a bit too much to drink. He’s also smiling way too much to be sober. Usually, he’s cranky as fuck. And mean. Mean I can handle, though. It’s Happy Daddy that makes me nervous because Happy Daddy is a bit unpredictable.
He claps me on the shoulder. “I thought you got lost.” He squeezes my shoulder firmly.
“Did I miss something?” I try to keep the sarcasm from my voice. The fight isn’t supposed to start for a half hour, and they never start early. The organizers like to get the crowd drunk and anxious.
My dad glares at me and then starts to laugh. “You got a smart mouth, kid.”
I gri
n at him.
Yuri walks over with two drinks in hand. He holds one out to me. Vodka on ice. I told him no, but I think I might actually need one if I’m stuck here for a while.
I wear the watch my father asked me to bring tonight. I expect him to bring it up immediately, but it seems my father’s interest in the watch has lessened now he knows he has it back. We stand in a circle, quietly discussing business, nursing drinks for the next twenty minutes. Legitimately, my father owns a strip club and a chain of pawn shops. Illegitimately, he deals in guns. Ivan owns a shipping company, so over the years, we’ve developed a good working relationship that benefits both of our families.
Andrei tries hard to get into the conversation, nodding and adding his opinion here and there to show he has value. He has all these ideas about expanding and opening another strip club. Andrei likes women as much as my father so, of course, that would be his focus. I’m glad when the business talk is over, but it only turns the conversation to another topic I’m not interested in.
“I heard Alexandra’s home,” Andrei says, his gaze flickering to me.
“Yes, her mother wanted her home,” Ivan says. “She wanted to stay in Europe much longer, but she came around when I stopped putting money in her accounts.”
I fight a chuckle. That doesn’t surprise me in the least.
Alexandra is tall, blond, and a princess, much like her mother. We grew up in similar circumstances, although her family dotes on her and mine worked tirelessly to make me hard. Being with her came easy in some ways, but not so easy in many others. She expected to be pampered and showered in gifts and affection. It bored and frustrated me. And if we weren’t having sex—which I admit was hot—we had nothing to talk about.
“I’ll have to drop by and see her,” Andrei says. “It’s been a long time.”
“She’ll appreciate that,” Ivan says before taking a drink of his beer. I don’t miss the look he gives me. I’m not sure if he’s expecting me to say the same thing, but I have no intention of that. I’ll see her when I see her. Besides, the only woman occupying my thoughts right now is Luna. My fingers itch to pull out my phone and bring up the camera feed.
I take a sip of my drink.
“I almost forgot,” my father says. “Did you bring the watch?”
I nod and unlatch it from my wrist. My father holds out his hand, and I drop it into his.
He brings it close to his face and studies it. “Good man. I knew I could count on you.” He holds it out for Andrei and Ivan to see.
Ivan nods approvingly.
“Nice,” Andrei says.
“It’s an antique,” Sergei says.
A bell sounds, and the crowd roars. I turn to the ring, happy to stay where I am. I’m one of the taller men in here so I can still see over the converging crowd. My father elbows me. “Let’s go.”
I nod.
The five of us walk forward. When we reach the edge of the crowd, no one moves. No one even notices us through all of the noise and the excitement. My father bellows, “Move!”
Some annoyed heads turn, but I promise they move quickly. Two men who usually guard my father appear out of nowhere and keep close as we make our way to the front. He doesn’t like to have guards. He thinks it makes him look fearful. But in a tight crowd? You never know who’s standing close, ready to take a shot that will make them a legend.
The first fighter to emerge is Frankie. He’s well known in the underground fighting network. He’s small but wiry, and he’s as good with punches as he is with kicks. I’ll admit the first time I fought him I underestimated him. He almost had me a couple of times, but when I finally connected with an uppercut, that was it, it was lights out for him. He laughed about it with me after even though his jaw was broken.
Emanuel comes next. I watch him carefully.
“He’s a big boy,” Yuri says.
“You see him fight yet?”
Yuri shakes his head. He says something, and I have to ask him to repeat it. The fucking crowd is so loud there’s ringing in my ears.
“I said I heard he’s good,” Yuri says. “Real good. They call him ‘The Heartstopper.’”
“Why’s that?”
“Punched a guy so hard in the chest he stopped his heart.”
I tip my head to the side and take a long, hard look at him. About the same size and height as me, perhaps an inch shorter. He’s thick in the stomach, maybe a few pounds overweight. Scars on his forehead and his chest. There’s something about his eyes. The way his eyebrows come in low over them. It makes him look like he’s eyeballing you.
The fighters take their positions and pound fists. Then the bell rings. I didn’t even bet on tonight’s fight. Though I don’t count Frankie out, my gut says he’s going to lose. It takes a total of thirty-three seconds—I count—to realize I’m right. Frankie is fast, but this guy crowds him in, punching and punching like he’s windmilling the fucking air. He just doesn’t stop, over and over, jab, cross, jab, cross and then one to the chest. Even over the crowd, you can hear Frankie gasp for air. His whole face goes white, then it extends down his neck as he falls backward like a fallen tree.
“Damn,” Yuri yells.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. The force of his blow. Well, I might have my work cut out for me. Frankie’s trainer runs over to him, and the fight is called. I think he’s dead, and the crowd fucking loves it. They actually start taking bets on if he’ll wake up. And then, suddenly, he springs back up to a sitting position and gasps for air. From pale to beet red, he huffs and puffs.
“I don’t usually get to your fights,” Andrei says, “but I might have to watch you fight Emanuel.” He winks at me.
I chuckle at that, pretending not to be bothered. “I thought you’d seen enough of my winning to last you a lifetime.”
He scoffs at me. “Keep telling yourself that. I think you’re finally about to meet your match.”
Ivan comes between us and puts a hand on both of our shoulders. “One day, the two of you will have to get in there together. Now that’s one fight I’d like to see.”
“Name the day,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
Andrei rolls his eyes at me. He wouldn’t dare.
“Sibling rivalry,” Dad says. “I had it with my brother, too.”
Yes, you fucking did, and then you killed him. It’s hard keeping my face even when I’m reminded of that. My uncle might have been a criminal, but he was a good man. And he was fair. I take a long drink of my glass, draining it.
Sergei walks away, his bodyguards trailing a few feet behind him. Ivan follows but trails off in a different direction. Is that it? My father has moved on now? When I gave him the watch, the fight started seconds after. I assumed he’d have questions for me about the girl when things settled, but he’s walking away. I exchange a look with Yuri who seems to know exactly where my head is. He holds out his glass, and we clink them together.
“I think it’s time for me to go,” I say.
“How’d it go last night?” Andrei says. He’s still here. Talking about the exact thing I don’t want to talk about.
I eye him.
“Trevor said Dad left the girl to you.”
“Trevor has a big mouth. It’ll get him into trouble.”
My brother smiles his toothy smile and takes a long pull of his beer bottle. Near the back of the room, my father is standing close to a young woman. She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and laughs at something my father says before he whispers something in her ear. I try not to look. Out of loyalty to my mother, his unfaithfulness brings a snarl to my lips.
“How’d you do it? Tell me, brother. Every last detail. Slow and steady? Or quick and painless?”
“You and I both know we don’t talk about that shit. Certainly not in public.”
He shrugs and then smiles at me.
He’s always pushing me, probing for something, anything he can use against me. As a kid, I wanted to look up to him. He was older and cooler until he wasn�
��t. He’s made having a relationship with him impossible, and that pains me. Because I never want to be in a situation where I want him dead like my father did my uncle.
With a smirk on his face, he nods before sauntering away to a half-naked woman with a tray of shots.
“Prick,” Yuri says.
“I think you’re being kind.”
“You should get him in the ring. You’d fucking murder him.”
“Yeah, one day. Right now, I need to focus on that fucker,” I say, pointing to Emanuel as he makes his way to one of the rooms not far from the entrance.
“I’m not going to lie. I’m worried,” Yuri says. “You think you can take him?”
“I don’t think I will. I know it.”
Yuri grins at me.
“I’m gonna get out of here.” I look back at the bar to make sure my father is still occupied so I can slip out without being noticed. My mouth drops. He holds out the watch to the girl he’s talking with.
Her face lights up before she bounces on her heels. Then she wraps her arms around his neck, and they start kissing.
“Did he just…?” Yuri doesn’t finish his question. I’m headed for the door before he can say another word. When I glance back at my father, the girl is putting the watch on her wrist. He made the watch seem like it was so important. That it had some grand purpose. Sure, it’s worth a lot—if that’s even true—but he made it seem much more valuable. Was it his plan all along to give it to some woman he’s probably banging? Fuck. He couldn’t just kill the druggie. No. He had to fucking drag Luna into the shit, too. No wonder he never gave a thought tonight to ask about her. The watch doesn’t matter to him, not really. And neither does Luna.
Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I hurry to the exit. If she had been anyone else, I would have been annoyed, but I would have gotten over it. But because she’s someone I once cared for, and maybe still do in some way, I’m ready to hurt someone. If I stay, that someone could easily be my father. But as I hit the fresh air outside, I realize walking away isn’t going to quiet the beast inside of me, so I unload on the first man who looks at me the wrong way.