“You didn’t kill that girl, sweetheart. You’re just a kid with a solid punch.” Bruce reached out and gently pushed my hair off my shoulder. “I need to go check in with Jedediah. I’ll be back, okay?” He held up a key. “I’m locking the door. No one can get in here without this key, do you understand? If someone comes in, they’re here because I let them.”
I nodded as he stared at me, as if gauging my understanding.
Bruce stood, moving to stand by the door, watching me another minute. He nodded tightly when he saw I wasn’t going to topple over and slipped out the door. The lock scraped shut, metal on metal for once giving me peace of mind.
I had nothing on me. A bag of my clothes and my phone sat by the door. Blaze had at least given me that small courtesy. The phone most likely had died long ago. I had no way to check in with anyone or find out if Brock, Gunner, and Stryker had gotten free of the cops. I had no way of knowing what was happening with Sara and her family.
I’d missed practices all week, which seemed insignificant at the time, but also felt important to the girl I’d been before killing the Russian. I’d had a dream and a goal and somehow, I couldn’t help feeling like I might be able to get back to the girl I was.
The ammonia Bruce exposed me to had cleared the foggy edges away and I could see more clearly. No more spots or nausea clung to me.
I hadn’t had a true opportunity to fight Sonya Ivanovs. What if she had been a really good fighter? What if things had actually spun into a terrific fight and we’d been great opponents?
Yeah, and what if I was in Oz, making wishes on shoes I didn’t have?
Sonya was Russian royalty. She wouldn’t have been fighting. That’s all there was to it. The brother had set the stage and I’d been left with the trauma. With that choice to throw his sister to the fight, Sergio had changed my life forever. Was I going to be able to recover from that.
My desperation and loss needed to be redirected and I suddenly focused on Sergio. He’d done this to me. All of this wouldn’t have happened, if he hadn’t forced me to be the one to deliver the fatal blow. That had put me at fault and directed his family’s ire at me and mine.
Sergio would have to pay for what he’d done. I just didn’t know how I could do that from where I sat – on a bench, waiting for a fight to start. A fight where I was supposed to kill someone else.
Maybe what I needed to do was find out if Sergio was there and where. I could take things from that point. Winging it was going to have to be the way I sought my revenge. There was no other way I could win.
I only wished there was some way I could talk to Stryker. What if he thought I’d left on my own? What if he’d been captured himself? I had no idea how to wrangle my emotions and the confusing questions buffeting my mind.
All I needed was a nap. Maybe that would help me come to grips with the fight coming up. I rolled a towel into a pillow and put it beneath my neck as I leaned toward the side. Or maybe the nap would do nothing more than help me stay in denial.
I could handle either one. Let’s be honest. I wasn’t going anywhere except my death.
Chapter 11
Stryker
Blaze stormed past me, his fists clenched by his sides as he stared straight ahead. I rolled to the side, turning so my back faced him so he wouldn’t recognize me.
I didn’t need to worry though. Trapped in his own thoughts, he didn’t stop until he got to the exit doors and burst through them. He hadn’t been at school all week or his house. Wherever he’d been, I had no doubt he’d held Gray. I didn’t need to have anyone confirm that she’d been taken against her will. There was too much at stake for Gray to miss practices. Even if she didn’t want to fight again, her father was supposed to be the coach.
Between Gray, Coach Asher, and Danielle all missing the entire week of school, there had to be foul play at work. He had to be leaving to go back to the place he’d held Gray.
I’d only gotten a glimpse of Gray when they’d pulled her into the back entrance. Her hair hung around her face and she’d slumped forward as Blaze and another man I couldn’t see clearly carried her into the locker room. It had taken everything in me as well as Brock’s arms around my neck to keep me from running back to pull her out of their hold.
As much as I wanted to thunder after Blaze and enact some karmic torture, I held back, locking gazes with Gunner and Brock on the other side of The Pike’s interior hall. I could tell they watched to see just how much I would lose it and what control I could exert over myself.
The ring would drop into place in the next thirty minutes. I was running out of time to save Gray.
If I couldn’t get in to the offices to see Jedediah, the owner of The Pike, I’d have to put my backup plan into place and have Brock and Gunner step in and steal Gray away. We’d have more than the cops, Russians, and anyone else after us – it’d be everyone chasing us at that point and hiding us would be next to impossible.
I knew Blaze was involved in her disappearance; I just hadn’t been able to pinpoint how much. I still wasn’t certain, but I had no problem acting now that I knew for sure and getting facts later.
The big bouncer walked out of the hallway leading down to the locker rooms with a lengthier stride and more speed than I’d seen from him before then.
The locker room was down that way, but I couldn’t be sure Gray was anymore. I hadn’t seen her since she went in the hallway, but I’d been doing reconnaissance to see where the weak points of The Pike were in case we needed to make a getaway.
I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt higher around my face. I’d deigned to wear something more than a t-shirt simply because I wanted to blend in. Most everyone was in long sleeve tees this time of year. A hoody seemed appropriate to hide my identity as well as stay in the shadows. I was getting hella hot and uncomfortable, though, which increased my irritation.
Getting in and getting out without being noticed would be the hardest. I tucked my hands in my pockets and strode toward the hallway leading to the lockers. I stopped at the doorway, bending down to tie my shoe. Pretending to tie laces that weren’t there, I glanced up, my head still under the hood.
Three Russian guards in black suit jackets and casual Docker pants lounged against the walls. The one closest to the club straightened when he noticed me and put his hand toward the back of his pants. I didn’t need to know what he held back there. I pushed up from my crouched position and turned back to the doors, bouncing on my toes to the rhythm of the song blasting in the dance area.
No one followed me out.
The partying was in full swing and drinks flowed from the bar on trays carried by busty, scantily clad waitresses. The fight of the year was being touted on the billboard outside and a couple of people I’d queried earlier reported that no one had died the week before, someone had just had to go to the hospital.
Which meant coverup. The Russians were keeping their information tight to their chests and I wasn’t going to be given any leeway.
I moved into the middle of the dance floor, bopping my shoulders as I moved to blend in. Jerking my chin at Brock and Gunner, I moved toward the exit. If I couldn’t get Gray out using conventional methods, I’d have to come in with guns blasting. Literally.
No shooting was okay. Putting people in danger wasn’t the way I worked, but if I had no other choice? I’d do what was needed. I could shoot at the ceiling or down at the ground. Better yet, I had a package of blanks I’d bought from a local gunsmith. No bullets meant no injuries.
To get Gray out of there? I’d do what was needed to free her, including shooting a semi-automatic into the ceiling while people ran screaming toward the exits. That image wasn’t one I looked forward to, but some things had to be planned for.
I set my jaw. I could do what I needed to. I wasn’t being given any other choice. My dad had once told me that when you had certain skills, you were required to use them to protect the rights of others. I always thought I understood what that meant, but once Gray had bee
n forced to kill that girl, I realized I’d had no idea just what he’d meant. I had to protect her from other people’s choices, even if that meant causing chaos and panic.
Before I hit the door, the bouncer whose nametag read Bruce appeared at my elbow. He reached out, grabbing my shoulder to stop me. With a smile on his face that only made him that much more intimidating, he pinched his large fingers and steered me to my left.
Not many guys were bigger than me, but Bruce fit that description. “Come with me, Jameson.”
He knew my name which meant I wasn’t hiding very well. I glanced up as Brock and Gunner headed my direction, their faces promising to get me out using any measures necessary. I slowly shook my head; resolute they wouldn’t get caught with me.
No matter what, we couldn’t all go down.
As we walked toward the offices, Bruce muttered beside me, “Keep those cousins of yours close. I have a job for them in twenty minutes.”
I jerked my gaze toward the bouncer then cut it back to my cousins. I tilted my head to the side and lifted my right hand in a flat palm wave with all fingers tight together.
They would know to stay put from my directions. Hopefully they didn’t get pulled away trying something with Gray. One thing I knew, I could trust my cousins. My shoulders back, I followed beside Bruce as we turned into the short hallway leading to the offices and the kitchen.
He could kill me in there and no one would know. Honestly, that’s what could happen with Gray. She could be dead in the locker room or they could be prepping her for death like they had done to Sonya.
The fact that I was helpless regarding her situation filled me with rage I couldn’t contain. Before I lit into the man next to me, I spun to the side and released my rage as I punched toward the wall. Bruce caught my arm before it connected with the cement blocks, holding me back from breaking my hand. His gentle strength confused me.
He shook his head. “No, son. That’s not the way. Take a deep breath. I think you need to speak to Jedediah.”
Jedediah had been who I wanted to talk to. The fact that he’d sought me out – or sent his bouncer to find me – gave me a small degree of hope. I had to convince Jedediah not to run the fight.
Bruce opened a nondescript door set halfway down the hallway. He followed me inside, making sure to shut the door behind us. We stood in a small closet-like space with another door opposite the other. Bruce brushed past me in the tight space and knocked on the inner door, stepping back and waiting with his hands folded at his waist.
I glanced at Bruce and reached up, pushing the hood off my head and lifting my chin. I wasn’t going into this as a kid. I was a man with a full community that followed me. I wasn’t stupid. I was smart as hell. And I had someone to save.
The door opened. Bruce strode inside ahead of me. I couldn’t hide the swagger in my step after my internal pep talk. I was all the things I believed about myself and more. No one could take that away from me.
The door closed us inside a much larger office than the outer foyer area led one to expect. The office was easily twenty feet by twenty feet with a full-sized desk set across the back wall.
Jedediah swung side to side in a comfortably plush office chair, facing us.
Another man with a full head of silver hair and thick side burns trailing down into a beard had one ankle crossed over his knee while sitting in a high wing-backed chair to the side of the desk.
I held my position beside Bruce, unwilling to be intimidated and getting royally pissed that they were trying to scare me.
Bruce moved to stand beside the club’s owner and motioned toward me while he spoke. “This is Stryker Jameson. He knows the fighter as well as what happened last Friday night.” The fighter. They didn’t even say Gray’s name as if she were a thing to be talked about.
Jedediah glanced at me, narrowing his eyes. He steepled his fingers and stopped swinging his chair. “You knew Asher?” The notable use of her last name over her first suggested Jedediah knew more than he let on.
I arched an eyebrow. “I do.” I ignored the man to my left in the wing-back. I’d give my attention to those who needed it and when. Until noted otherwise, I’d deal with the two before me and no one else.
“What did you hear happened?” Bruce motioned for me to speak.
“I heard Sergio Ivanovs beat and drugged his sister and then sent her into the ring with blood thinners on board. She didn’t stand a chance. Gray didn’t kill anyone. She’s a clean fighter. While she’s tough as hell, she’s not the type to hit hard enough to kill anyone.” The girl could hit, but it took serious muscle to kill someone with one strike while wearing gloves.
Tough as she was, Gray wasn’t big enough. I wasn’t sure I was, to be honest. Wanted to? Sure. But I didn’t have that kind of focus in my fists either.
“How do you know this?” Jedediah leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the desk.
“I… I have reliable sources.” I wouldn’t give Tiny away or anyone else. If Tiny were discovered, then his sources would be in danger and I would never do that.
Picking up a pen and tapping it on the surface of his desk, Jedediah nodded while pursing his lips. “I know you’re associated with Tiny.” A shiver of fear split up my back. Jedediah waved his hand my direction and shook his head. “Now, this isn’t an accusation or a threat. I respect Tiny more than most of my own staff. If he says something happened, I don’t doubt him.”
“I don’t doubt Tiny, either. What I doubt is the upstart next to me.” The man beside me leaned forward, his eyes sharp and dark as he studied me from where he sat. His thick Russian accent had a lilting effect. He probably crooned love songs, comforting his victims, as he killed them slowly.
Jedediah motioned toward the speaker, inclining his head. “This is Vlasi Ivanovs of the Ivanovs family.” No other words were needed. You either knew who Vlasi was or you’d heard about him. The last thing you wanted was to meet him face to face.
I didn’t look away. He wanted an upstart to complain about? I’d give him the biggest asshole upstart he’d ever met, while maintaining my respectful upbringing.
I leaned from the waist, extending my hand toward him. “I’m Stryker Jameson. Nice to meet you.” To my surprise, he took my hand and I shook it firmly.
When I pulled back, he arched an eyebrow at me. “You’re Dominick Jameson’s nephew.” It wasn’t a question.
My nostrils flared. “No. I’m Shawn Jameson’s son. I only have to deal with Dominick another three and a half months. Once my time is up, I can clear him out for good.” I didn’t explain I planned on getting rid of Dominick permanently. It wasn’t anyone’s business. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not be compared to him.”
A spark of respect glinted in his eyes and he inclined his head. “I knew a Shawn Jameson once. Special forces. He had plans to fix up a little town in north Idaho, help the community. It was a shame what happened to him in the Middle East.”
He glanced at Jedediah. “I’ll take his information as good.” He looked back at me. “Tiny told you he had sources who reported Sergio set his sister up for a death match. Is this correct?” He must have seen the hesitation in my expression. He waved his hand above his lap and shook his head. “Tiny won’t know his name was spoken here. There is no doubting his integrity. Nor yours.”
I took a deep breath, more aware of how my information could affect more than just Gray or myself. The smell of the room was a strong mix of colognes, deodorants, and what could have been weed.
My gaze didn’t waver. “Tiny said exactly what I told Jedediah, sir. I was here that night. Gray Asher fought as Alex Asher, her father’s name. She’s an extremely competent fighter, but she barely decked Ms. Ivanovs. To be honest, she stepped on her foot to hold her and planted an uppercut, but her balance was off and she didn’t hit as solidly as she would want. When Sonya went down no one could believe it, least of all Gray.” I paused, catching a glance that passed between Jedediah and Vlasi. “Look, Gray w
asn’t even told who she was fighting. She didn’t mean to kill your daughter, sir.” If groveling was what it would take, I’d do it.
An image of Gray’s devastation and trauma after that fight flashed in my mind. She could do another fight but not a death match and not so soon. For something so deeply entrenched in her blood, I wasn’t sure she’d ever return to fighting.
The room fell silent. Jedediah leaned forward, turning the red digital clock to face Vlasi. “The fight starts in fifteen minutes. What do you want to do?”
Breathing in deeply through his large nose, Vlasi nodded slowly. “The fight has to go on.”
I leaned my head back, my shoulders slumping forward with disappointment. “You don’t believe me.” What happened to believing in my words?
Vlasi shook his head and folded his hands at his waist. “It has nothing to do with belief, Jameson. It has to do with the fact that my people are here to see vengeance done. I’m here to see my daughter avenged. My son… Has been a black mark against the Ivanovs for a long time. To outright kill him isn’t possible.” He shook his head. “No, my daughter’s killer needs to pay. My family demands it.”
“I agree.” I narrowed my eyes. Sonya’s killer hadn’t just killed his sister, he’d destroyed a few lives with his jealous tantrum. The last thing he deserved was to live happily ever after.
Jedediah turned in his seat, piercing Bruce with his eyes. “Pull in the other two Jamesons. We need this contained.” He looked at me as Bruce nodded and ducked out of the doors. “I hope you’re as good as your reputation suggests.”
I didn’t have to ask what he referred to. All I did was nod and tense my shoulders. I knew what was at stake. I didn’t need it spelled out for me.
And for the record, I was better than my reputation suggested at everything.
Chapter 12
Gray
Time had taken on a different role and I couldn’t pinpoint its passing. All I knew was Bruce was there and then he was gone. He’d warned me about letting anyone inside. He’d said something about locking it and if anyone came in, they were there because he’d given them a key.
Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2) Page 10