Russian Beast: Underground Fighters #2 Page 6

  Learning to defend herself would be the first step. She didn’t want to be locked away in a tower forever, to become a hermit. She didn’t want to forgo her dreams of marriage and children because of Jimmy. But she didn’t know if she’d ever be normal, ever fully heal.

  She had to try.

  “Please,” she murmured. “I know we can make this work. I just…I don’t want to be afraid forever.”

  His eyes grew soft at those words, aching with sympathy—or maybe even empathy. What had he endured as his father’s son? Had this huge beast of a man ever felt powerless and afraid? She suspected he had.

  He sighed, and capitulation showed in his eyes an instant before he spoke. “Okay. We try one session. Then see.”

  Evie lit up, anticipation racing through her. She bounced on her feet with the sudden spurt of energy, and without thinking she wrapped her arms around Alexei in a tight hug. He was warm, even without his jacket on the cold night. And he was hard, like granite, without an inch of fat on his muscles. He smelled good, too. Like musky leather and sweat. She could almost taste him on her tongue.

  He stood frozen at her touch, and his ice-sculpture impression made her freeze, too, as she noticed it. She was suddenly acutely aware of the awkwardness of the scenario.

  She loosened her arms, intending to step back, but he shifted, resting his huge hand on the small of her back. She settled there for just a moment, allowing herself to bask in his strength. It was like being cocooned by a mountain. Strong and unyielding.

  But she couldn’t stay there forever. Particularly because she was determined they keep their friendship platonic. She wasn’t ready for anything more, and if she tried too soon to get back on the proverbial horse she’d end up ruining their friendship, quite apart from what it might do to her, how far it could set her back.

  She stepped back reluctantly. Alexei’s hand slid around her waist as she moved away, as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching her until the last possible moment. He dropped it as soon as she was out of reach, and his eyes stayed downcast to where she’d been moments before. His breathing was slightly faster than normal as he flexed his hand—the one that had been resting on her back moments before.

  He tightened his hand into a fist and glanced up at her, his face deliberately bland. What had run through his head? She had no idea, not really. And even if she did, she wasn’t ready to think about it, let alone mention it aloud.

  Evie took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He nodded with a slight smile, then turned towards their apartment building. He escorted her to her door and waited until she’d slipped inside. Seconds later she heard him moving around his own apartment, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big man.

  That night, while she made every determination not to think about the moment below on the street, she knew she and Alexei were moving into very dangerous territory. And she almost didn’t want to stop.

  Chapter 8

  Golan’s Gym was shabby, and smelled vaguely of old sweat and stale air. But it was tidy. Whoever looked after this place clearly took pride in it.

  The room was empty, a fact Alexei seemed relieved by. Was it her he was ashamed of, or his training partners and fellow fighters?

  She never asked him much about what he did for a living. He seemed to close up at the merest mention of it. He’d shown up a few times with bruising or cuts, and Evie longed to ask him about his fights. But she didn’t want to risk angering him when she knew he didn’t like the topic of conversation.

  It was two in the morning, after her shift at the diner. Alexei had told her they could either do it after her shift, or well before her morning class at 8am. Lunch times, and the hours between school and her diner shift, were out of the question, due to the specific times he was allowed to access the gym.

  Alexei strode in ahead of her, glancing around the room as if looking for something. But Evie suspected he was taking a moment to prepare himself. His disapproval at this course of action was clear. He’d barely looked at her on the bus ride over, even though they sat across the narrow aisle from each other.

  Now, though, he seemed resigned as his shoulders slumped. He turned to her, his eyes roaming over her from head to foot, lingering a millisecond longer than was polite on her legs encased in formfitting workout gear.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Evie nodded with more enthusiasm than she felt. She knew that if Alexei suspected she was having second thoughts he’d call this whole thing off in a minute. She was nervous. About being here, alone, with Alexei. About the fact they’d have to get physical.

  Get hot and sweaty.

  Get close.

  Evie shivered, and not from cold. She was both a little afraid and a little aroused, depending on whether her mind or her body was in control from one second to the next. Having two such distinct wants in such a small space was giving her whiplash.

  Evie attempted to smile. “Let’s get started.”

  They warmed up first, stretching and Alexei directing her through some light aerobics moves until she was loose and ready. Then, he showed her how to hold her fist for a punch, thumb tucked on the outside. His fingers brushed lightly over hers as he corrected her positioning and the warmth from her warmup increased tenfold.

  But he didn’t come close, stood far enough back that he could barely reach her hand.

  He still wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

  She punched the air a few times while he watched with a critical eye.

  “Good,” said Alexei. Then, he showed her the correct stance, how to hold herself, her core muscles. He was a good teacher, patient, and even though he sometimes forgot the words for the more complicated aspects of what he taught, Evie always knew what he meant.

  He showed her how to move her torso with each punch, demonstrating from a safe distance, and told her how to get the strongest follow-through. He indicated the best places for her to punch if he were to come at her, and how.

  “When do I actually get to hit something?” Evie asked, feeling energised. Even this small thing was enough for her to feel more confident, stronger and more capable.

  He sighed, then glanced down at her hands.

  “Straps,” he said. It took her a second to understand what he’d meant, but she’d become used to his short sentences in the time they’d known each other and could interpret his mono-syllabic conversations well enough.

  “Do you have some?” she asked, holding up her hands and flexing her fingers.

  He nodded and bent to the duffel bag he’d brought with him. He pulled out two sets of straps, and threw her one while he expertly wrapped his own knuckles.

  Evie watched the deft movements carefully, then tried to emulate the way he wrapped the cloth around and between his fingers. But she got hopelessly lost and tangled, and eventually huffed in annoyance.

  Alexei glanced over at her, down at her hands and the dangling straps, then back to her face. She gave an apologetic smile. He set down the boxing pads he’d been holding and strode towards her. A breath passed, and when he made no move to take her hands, she stared at them. Then, slowly, he reached up and took her left hand in his right. His touch was careful and slow as he wrapped her knuckles.

  But Evie barely paid attention to what he was doing. She was too distracted by his nearness. By his heat and scent. By the gentle way he cradled her hand in his own.

  Her breathing sped up, and his followed suit. But he wouldn’t look her in the eye. She understood. At this close distance, that would be too much, too intimate. It would risk them falling into another of those moments they’d nearly had outside their apartment building a few days before.

  Yet once he’d finished with the straps, he didn’t let go of her hands immediately. His thumb brushed over her fingers. Her heart beat like thunder in her chest, and she wondered if he could hear it, if he knew how much he affected her.

  Or maybe he was too focused on his own reaction to her.

  He
dropped her hand and stepped back, his face again a neutral mask. As much as she appreciated his restraint, Evie perversely wanted to see what he was like when he lost it. She wanted his gaze to burn with desire for her. To snatch her up into his arms and kiss her with the fierce passion she was convinced his iron restraint was the only thing keeping in check.

  It had been a long time since she’d been kissed, properly at least. The kind of kiss with fierce desire on both sides, bordering on desperation.

  She wasn’t ready, not really. Her head knew that even if her body didn’t. Her paranoid belief that Jimmy was following her was proof of that. She’d never seen more than a movement in the shadows, seen a man in a hoodie that might have been him near her apartment. If it had been Jimmy, surely he would have made his move by now?

  No, that was all in her head. But her attraction to Alexei wasn’t. That was very real, and almost overwhelming.

  Part of her wanted him to kiss her senseless. To stir up her passion until she couldn’t think, couldn’t fear. To take away her responsibilities and let her forget while he took control.

  But that would be far worse in the long run. She knew herself well enough to know she’d have regrets. If she ever allowed herself to have a relationship again—and she hoped she would—she needed to go in clear headed and open eyed.

  Alexei picked up the pads again and stood like a rock, waiting for her to punch. The rest of the lesson passed with Alexei being even more silent and stoic than usual. He stuck to business, only correcting her form and directing her to punch again and again until she was exhausted.

  When he finally relented, he assessed her red face, slick with sweat, then nodded in approval.

  “Good.”

  And it was. She already felt stronger. The workout had done wonders. When she’d questioned why he was acting like a personal trainer, not a coach, he told her she’d need strength and stamina to be effective in a fight, and she didn’t complain again.

  She wanted to be strong. Maybe then she would stand up for herself, and never be a victim again.

  Alexei also said she needed to do the moves over and over until they became second nature to her. If she was attacked, he didn’t want her thinking about form or technique. He just wanted her to do it. His logic made perfect sense, and she marvelled again at what an excellent teacher he was turning out to be. He never rolled his eyes at her basic questions, or dismissed her. He treated this very seriously.

  Then again, he was a professional. This was his livelihood. It made sense he’d take it seriously. But a person’s passion for something didn’t always make them a good teacher.

  “Next time, kicks,” he told her as they packed up.

  “So you don’t hate me yet?” she joked.

  He frowned. “Why would I hate you?”

  “I’m kidding,” she explained. “Because you said you wanted us to have a trial period.”

  His face cleared. “Oh. No. You are good student.” He muttered something into his bag as he shoved the straps in with a little too much aggression. She couldn’t quite hear it, but it was definitely in Russian, and sounded like “Jalko shto ya hochu tebya”.

  “Hmmm?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied on a sigh.

  They left, and Alexei was slightly more talkative on the way back than he had been on the trip to the gym. Something had relaxed in him. Maybe he’d passed a test he’d set for himself, like he’d proven to himself he hadn’t hurt her. She’d known he was worried about that, but he needn’t have been. He hadn’t even thrown a punch.

  But Evie was quieter. She’d proven something to herself, too. Not only was she stronger than she’d thought, but she’d been alone with Alexei for almost two hours, inside, and she hadn’t freaked out. She’d been almost normal.

  Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her yet.

  Chapter 9

  Alexei almost regretted he had to fight in the cage tonight. Though it was his only way of earning money, it meant he couldn’t train with Evie.

  He’d surprised himself with how much he’d enjoyed his time with her. She was tougher than he’d first thought, taking his instructions and the fact that he worked her hard in stride. It pleased him to know she didn’t crumble at the slightest hint of pressure.

  They were still on the basics. Eventually he’d move on to more advanced moves, but he knew she wasn’t quite ready. And, frankly, neither was he. He’d even almost admitted it to her, though in Russian. Jalko shto ya hochu tebya meant ‘too bad I want you’, so he was pretty grateful she hadn’t understood his annoyed utterance that first night.

  He didn’t know if he could spar with her, get up, close, and personal to her while they both sweated and breathed hard, without doing something stupid. Like kissing her.

  She wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure she even knew how warily she watched him. How she jumped and shivered at his slightest touch. She put a brave face on it, but she was still affected by what Jimmy had done to her.

  And even if she wasn’t, Alexei shouldn’t be her first after that experience. He was too big, too dangerous, too seeped in a world of violence. He could easily hurt her if his control loosened even a little. He was hyperaware of that even as he trained her. Sex would be a million times worse.

  Weston shifted into his field of vision, interrupting his thoughts. Alexei was almost grateful until he caught sight of McCready in the background, watching them. McCready watched everyone. As the owner and operator of these fights, he kept a close eye on all his fighters and guests.

  By the glee in Weston’s eyes, Alexei would have to talk to the boss, and he wouldn’t like what the guy had to say. He wished they’d at least wait until after the fight, so his head could stay in the match, but he suspected the whole point of staging this now was to psych him out. Weston was meant to be his opponent after all.

  Alexei reached McCready, and the two men stared at each other for a long moment. McCready wore one of his usual, neatly tailored three-piece suits. This one was an almost royal-blue. The man never went for the traditional colours, preferring to stand out in the crowd. He even had pocket squares in matching colours.

  The suit strained at the seams, barely containing McCready’s broad shoulders. While it had never been proven, most of the fighters assumed McCready had once been a fighter himself. Despite the suit, he looked like a thug with a crooked nose and weather-worn face.

  “So, you’ve been training regularly, I hear?” McCready said eventually. The dull sounds of fists hitting flesh sounded in the distance. Wyatt and Chen were in the ring tonight, kicking off the evening’s entertainment. As always, the crowd was silent, almost bored. They never exerted themselves to clap or cheer the men that brutalised themselves for their enjoyment.

  “Yes,” Alexei replied. He eyed McCready warily, not sure where he was going with this.

  “You brought a girl to the gym.” McCready’s eyes were hard as he stared Alexei down.

  Alexei swallowed. He slanted a glance to Weston, who hovered beside him. The other man’s grin widened.

  “Security cameras,” he said in a stage whisper.

  Alexei turned back to McCready, not saying anything. If it was true about the security cameras, there was no sense in denying it.

  “Why?” McCready demanded.

  “She wanted me to train her,” he said, leaving out all the details.

  McCready narrowed his eyes. “You?”

  Alexei shrugged. The word stung, but he couldn’t tell what part of him McCready was insulting. His size? His aggression? His looks?

  Weston chuckled. “She’s way too hot for you, buddy. In your dreams. But I reckon I might have a shot.”

  Alexei clenched his fist, tempted to deck Weston in his ugly face for even suggesting he go near Evie. She was his, no one else’s. Even if he wouldn’t touch her.

  Weston, particularly, was not the man for her. He’d be a repeat of Jimmy all over again, if the rumours from the champagne girls currently serving
drinks to the spectators were anything to go by. Alexei had wanted to dismantle him on more than one occasion, but since he was McCready’s pet he couldn’t do it without risking expulsion from the fight ring.

  McCready sneered. “The gym is not for you to seduce women. I made a deal with Golan to allow you to train for your fights there, and I pay him handsomely for the privilege. I can’t let you use it for things not to do with me.”

  Alexei said nothing, but he straightened. His heart pounded, drowning out his senses. A reaction to the aggression rolling off McCready, the man’s sneering dismissal of Alexei. Weston’s gleeful figure hovering at his elbow didn’t help.

  “Bring her back to that gym, and you’re done,” McCready hissed under his breath. “And she might go with you.”

  Alexei hesitated for a moment. He knew McCready was serious. More than one fighter had disappeared from this club, never to be seen again. And sometimes innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire. Of course, McCready would never admit he’d done anything, claiming they’d left of their own accord. But Alexei was fairly certain it was why he kept men like Weston and Spider so close, to do his violent dirty work. He didn’t want to mess up his tailored suits himself.

  But just as bad as a knife in the back, would be Alexei being expelled from the fight ring. He needed this work. It was the only thing he was good at, the only place he knew he could be paid in cash and not have anyone asking uncomfortable questions.

  “Okay,” Alexei said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew Evie would be disappointed. And he was, too. But he couldn’t go against McCready, not even for her. It risked too much.

  McCready stared at him a moment with beady eyes, assessing his sincerity. Alexei kept his face black.