Guard (The Underground Book 3) Read online

  It was difficult to see over the heads of all the people smashed in front of Haley. And hell, Alena was several inches shorter. Suddenly, the spectators all screamed, some of them jumping up and down.

  Haley took a step backward to avoid getting trampled by the guy in front of her who obviously won a bet. She bumped into Sergei, who steadied her with his hands on her waist but immediately released her.

  Based on the scowls and exchanges between Mikhail and Sergei, she figured Mikhail had threatened Sergei to within an inch of his life if he made a pass at her. And she was still processing how she felt about that.

  On the one hand, it was hot as hell. Her panties had gone damp when she noticed Mikhail glaring at his friend. On the other hand, she wanted to slap some sense into him for being so possessive. He didn’t own her. They weren’t even a couple. If she wanted to flirt with Sergei or vice versa, they had every right.

  Didn’t they?

  Maybe not. After all, there was no denying she and Mikhail were engaged in a sort of dance with each other. She shouldn’t be surprised he was puffing his chest out against his friend.

  “Ivan’s next,” Sergei said. “And then Mikhail. We’ll fight our way closer when people stop betting.”

  She glanced around to take in the scene. Sure enough, most of the patrons around her held a hand in the air while several other men with clipboards wormed their way through the crowd to take their bets.

  No wonder this sport was so lucrative.

  How often did Mikhail win?

  As they inched closer to see better, Abram joined them. He was out of breath. “Good. I’m not late.” He smiled at Haley and Alena and nodded.

  “Barely,” Nikolav joked. “Where’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been here, just not close enough to see the match.”

  Sergei nodded. “Ah. Well, Ivan’s up next and then Mikhail.”

  “Good. And I’ve got you two on the schedule soon. I think you’re next Saturday,” he said as he looked at Nikolav.

  “Perfect. I’m itching to get back out there.”

  Abram slapped both men on the back. “I’m going to wander around some more and see how the betting is going. Catch you guys later.”

  The next thirty minutes passed quickly as Ivan fought another Russian guy she’d never heard of. The battle was close, and Ivan lost in the final moments.

  Alena spent the entire fight on her toes, her face contorted every time Ivan took a hit, and when the match was over, she groaned.

  Sergei cringed behind Haley. “Shit. What the hell is the matter with him?”

  “He’s probably distracted,” Nikolav said. “I know I am. Jesus. Ever since Leo dropped his bombs this morning, I’ve been out of sorts. We’re going to have to pull it together.” Nikolav shouldered Sergei. “That includes you.”

  “Hey, I’m together.”

  “Right. That’s why you keep looking all over the room as though you were missing someone.”

  Haley couldn’t blame any of them. She was on pins and needles herself. It was unnerving knowing there were probably people in the crowd who wanted to snatch her. And there were also people strategically placed to protect her. In fact she turned around to face both men. “Can we not talk about this right now? If anyone should be concerned, it’s me. Maybe your Mafia guy wants a piece of one of you, but we know for a fact he’d do anything to get me back. I escaped.” She glanced around. “Besides, we need to keep our lips closed in public.” It made her nervous every time she left her apartment, but the thought of staying home while Mikhail fought made her even more distressed. It hadn’t been an option, for either of them.

  Nikolav winced. “You’re right. Sorry.”

  Sergei inched closer, setting a hand on her waist and hooking a finger in the belt loop of her jeans. “No one’s getting anywhere near you. Trust me. Mikhail may have a hard-on for you, and he might smash my face in for touching you, but I swear my intentions are honorable. I’m not going to take my hand off you for the rest of the evening.

  “He might not like it, and maybe he won’t see anything, but he’d be a whole lot more pissed if I lost track of you than if he believed I was making a move.”

  Haley grinned. “I can handle Mikhail.” She turned back around.

  Sergei was right. She did feel better with his hand on her. It didn’t mean a thing. It didn’t have anywhere near the same effect as Mikhail’s hands. When that man touched her, her skin lit on fire, and her entire body tingled.

  Sergei’s fingers were just digits attached to a hand. Nothing more.

  Alena snickered. “I wondered…” She pursed her lips and didn’t say another word. Probably for the best if she didn’t want Haley to call her out for the way she was with Ivan.

  Haley had seen those two together earlier at their apartment. Mikhail hadn’t mentioned a word about Alena being in a relationship with Ivan. Then again, she was his sister. Maybe he preferred not to think about her that way.

  Or maybe he didn’t know…

  She sure as shit wasn’t going to say a word. If Mikhail’s sister had secrets, Haley was not going to interfere.

  The noise level around them picked up as the announcer spoke again.

  Sergei set his other hand on Haley’s hip and inched them forward. “Let’s get closer. So you can see better.”

  She wasn’t sure she truly wanted to be so close that she could witness every single bloody punch.

  Alena grabbed her forearm and pointed at the opponent as the announcer’s voice beamed through the room. He listed off the guy’s accomplishments and introduced him as Sly “Kingman” Growder. “They fought each other the last time Mikhail was in the cage too. Kingman lost. He wanted a rematch.”

  That sounded crazy. Who did that? But then again, who wanted to spend their Friday nights getting their faces pummeled inside a cage?

  “And doesn’t anyone find this suspicious?” Alena grumbled.

  “Why?” Haley asked. “Is that not normal?”

  Nikolav snorted. “Sure. Except Mikhail conveniently got his ass kicked in the alley after the fight. Broke four ribs. Now Growder wants a rematch?”

  “What?” Haley twisted around, ignoring the droning words still coming from the announcer. “When was this? I didn’t know he’d broken any ribs recently.”

  “Three weeks ago,” Alena whispered.

  “What the fuck?” Haley’s voice rose. “How is that possible? I met him three weeks ago. He didn’t have broken ribs. And I’ve never noticed a single thing from him since then.” A shiver wracked her body.

  Nikolav leaned in closer. “Shh. Not so loud. Mikhail isn’t one to complain. I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you. It happened the Friday night before he found you.”

  “But it’s not possible,” she hissed back. “You found me on a Monday. He flipping carried me out of that man’s house, for Christ’s sake. Besides, nobody can fight with broken ribs. He’s never shown a single indication he was injured. There must be a mistake.”

  Sergei chuckled. “Trust me. Mikhail can handle it.”

  She spun back around as the bell sounded, her mind racing with this new information. Insanity was the rule lately rather than the exception.

  Her brain swirled as she remembered Katie asking Mikhail about his ribs in her office two weeks ago. He’d shut her down, specifically not mentioning anything was broken. He’d said he’d taken a “hard hit” in a fight.

  Why the farce?

  Mikhail’s fighting name was “The Warrior” and the crowd screamed his nickname over and over. Mikhail held his hands up in front of him and bounced around in a half-circle while Kingman threw several punches that were immediately deflected.

  “Why doesn’t he hit the guy?” Haley asked Alena, glancing over at the woman on tiptoes.

  “He always does this. He’s a master at guarding. Wait until you see him take the other guy to the floor.”

  Haley winced. This was much worse than watching him practice. These guys looked like
they intended to kill one another. She held her breath, rooted frozen in her spot, not even blinking, while she watched this precarious dance between grown men.

  Growder threw several punches again.

  Mikhail kept his guard up, deflecting all of them.

  “Why doesn’t he punch back?” she asked Alena.

  “He’s wearing Growder out. Pissing him off.”

  “Ah.” Made sense.

  Suddenly, as if in slow motion, Mikhail spun around in a circle and kicked Growder high on the chest. Mikhail instantly jumped back into his defensive position.

  Growder lurched backward, flinging his arms to keep from falling. In seconds, he was back in control. He ducked his head and jumped forward, ramming his skull into Mikhail’s stomach.

  Having touched that eight pack herself, Haley wasn’t sure who would be hurt worse. It was possible Growder would have a headache from attempting to knock Mikhail down with his forehead.

  Mikhail was unfazed. He spun around again and caught his opponent with a right hook to the side of his face.

  Haley cringed. Jesus. Surely someone would be killed tonight.

  She just hoped it wasn’t Mikhail.

  “They look evenly matched,” Haley commented.

  “They aren’t. Trust me. Kingman must have a death wish to challenge my brother to a do-over. Mikhail’s just getting started.”

  “Are there like three rounds or something? They’ve been fighting a long time.” Haley wrung her hands together, watching the sweat dripping off both men’s backs and chests.

  “Not here. Not the underground,” Sergei said. “They fight until one of them wins.”

  “Lord.” That could take a while.

  Mikhail looked far calmer than his opponent, however. He seemed to be strategically waiting for something. He bounced around with his guard up while Kingman threw punches and kicks that Mikhail brushed off as if they were nothing.

  Finally, while Kingman was in the middle of a left hook, his arm extended in front of him, Mikhail rounded to the guy’s side and lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Kingman’s neck. In less than a second, he flipped the man to the ground.

  Mikhail landed on his back, his legs wrapped around Kingman’s torso.

  Kingman threw a punch that hit Mikhail above the right eye. Blood spattered onto the mat and ran in a line down Mikhail’s temple.

  Haley squealed. This couldn’t be good. He was flat on his back and injured. She lifted her hands to the sides of her face, prepared to block her vision.

  Sergei leaned in. “Don’t worry. This is his signature move.”

  “What? Lying on his back with his face punched in? Looks like he’s about to get killed.”

  Sergei chuckled. “He isn’t. It’s a grappling position called a full guard. It looks like the guy on top has the upper hand, but he doesn’t. Mikhail is in control. Kingman can’t stand up or move to either side. He’s pinned.”

  Looked to her like Mikhail was the one pinned, but what did she know…

  “He’ll open his legs up in a second for an open guard and whip Kingman to the side.”

  Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened. If she had blinked, she would have missed it. Mikhail released his ankles, Kingman twisted to one side, and Mikhail did an amazing pushup to wrap his arm around Kingman’s neck.

  Shit.

  The entire thing was horrifying.

  Kingman grabbed Mikhail’s forearm with both hands and tugged while Mikhail squeezed his neck tighter and slowly lowered him to the floor.

  “He’s gonna cut off his oxygen supply,” Haley protested.

  “That’s the idea. It’s a chokehold.”

  “But the man will die.” Sweat broke out on Haley’s forehead. Had she really been pondering a relationship with someone who did this for money? How many fighters had Mikhail killed for a few bucks and an adrenaline rush?

  As if reading her mind, Nikolav leaned in to speak. “Don’t worry. Kingman will tap out before it gets to be too much. No one has ever needed serious medical attention on Mikhail’s watch.”

  She exhaled slowly. That was good.

  Sure enough, as the man on the ground turned red, he wiggled one hand free and flattened it on the mat beneath him, tapping three times.

  The referee grabbed Mikhail’s arm and lifted it in the air while Mikhail jumped to his feet. With an electric megaphone in his other hand, the referee declared Mikhail the winner. “For the second time in as many weeks, your champion, Mikhail ‘The Warrior’ Dudko.”

  Mikhail’s chest heaved as he slowly spun in a circle, waving at the crowd, pausing briefly to wink in her direction and smile.

  She shivered, wrapped her arms around herself, and wondered if she could somehow get out of this speakeasy and make it home alone. It would take her a while to process what she’d watched.

  She’d spent literally her entire life working to save people from all sorts of demises, and here she was living with a man who had so little value for human life that he participated in an unsanctioned sport where his opponents could easily be killed.

  Sergei whispered in her ear while the crowd continued to cheer and Mikhail exited the ring through the gate on the other side of the fence. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. It seems like half this crowd is watching us.” He angled her toward the side door by the bar where they’d first entered the main section of the speakeasy.

  It took a while to get to the door. So many people. This was not the venue for anyone suffering from claustrophobia.

  Two men blocked the door, their legs wide, their hands crossed in front of them. They had fierce looks on their faces, and Haley wondered if they were also MMA fighters when they weren’t playing bouncer.

  With a brief nod to Nikolav, one of them stepped aside and opened the door just wide enough for the four of them to squeeze through.

  As soon as the door shut behind them, cutting off the sound, Haley exhaled. Her ears were ringing from the volume.

  “Exhilarating, yeah?” Alena beamed.

  Haley cringed. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

  Nikolav chuckled. “Ah, come on. You had to feel the adrenaline rush just watching.”

  “I felt it all right. Just not sure I liked it.” She wasn’t kidding. She seriously needed to reevaluate the company she kept.

  The men were both chuckling as they made their way down the narrow hall toward the locker room. They leaned against the rough walls when they arrived.

  Sergei nodded toward the door. “It’s disgusting in there. Trust me. You don’t want to go in. Mikhail will come out when he’s showered.”

  No way was she going to argue that point. It had been pretty gross even before the fighting began. She couldn’t imagine how it smelled now that several of them had fought.

  “How often do you guys fight?” Haley asked.

  “Usually about once a month. Sometimes more. Sometimes less,” Nikolav said. “This was an anomaly.”

  “And I still say it’s suspicious,” Alena grumbled.

  “Did you say he got in a fight after the last match?” Another negative mark for Mikhail. He got into fights? Did she not know this man at all?

  Nikolav chuckled. “Hardly. Unless you call slapping a mask over his head and kicking him in the chest a fair fight. Mikhail never saw a thing. He never even had a chance to retaliate. They jumped him in the parking garage, beat the hell out of him, and then took off, leaving him on the ground.”

  She gasped. “Shit. I thought you meant he got in a fight.”

  “Not even close.” Nikolav shook his head.

  “Ivan and I brought him to Katie’s clinic in the morning. She confirmed the broken ribs,” Alena added.

  “Katie did?” Well, that blew Haley’s theory out of the water that the ribs couldn’t have been broken. Katie was obviously a competent doctor. “Did she take X-rays?”

  “Yes,” Alena said.

  Nikolav smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, but we Russians have good ge
nes. He’s perfectly fine.”

  “Good genes? You’re full of shit. Nobody can heal from broken ribs that fast.”

  Nikolav shrugged.

  Sergei did too. “We can.”

  Haley chewed on her lower lip, dropping the subject. Was there a correlation between the weird shots and strange healing powers? No one had mentioned that out loud. Surely they were all thinking it. Weren’t they?

  She jumped when the door to the locker room opened, having gone inside her head so far her heart started racing.

  It wasn’t Mikhail, however. It was the other guy, Sly “Kingman” Growder. And he grumbled as he passed them in the hall, stomping toward the rear exit and slamming it open hard.

  A few seconds later, Mikhail and Ivan exited.

  Ivan frowned and made no eye contact with anyone.

  Mikhail met Haley’s eyes and smiled.

  She didn’t have it in her to return exactly the same gesture. In fact, she was pretty sure she wore a frown similar to Ivan’s.

  “What? You didn’t like the fight?” Mikhail teased, turning around and backing down the hallway while they all followed him. He heaved his bag up onto his shoulder higher and grinned.

  She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

  He tipped his face back and laughed. “You’ll get used to it. It grows on you.”

  She didn’t think there was a chance in hell of that happening, but she also wasn’t about to argue with him.

  »»•««

  Anton was sitting in his apartment enjoying a fantastic scotch and staring out at the city lights when his cell rang.

  Annoyed, he grabbed the device from the end table next to him and took the call. “Millings. You and Dayton go to the fight tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  “Who won?”

  “Ivan lost. Mikhail won.”

  “Huh. Interesting. Ivan must be off his game.”

  “Yep. But more interesting is that Mikhail is not. I know you paid Kingman a lot of money to demand this rematch, but what I don’t get is why? And why aren’t you pissed Kingman didn’t win?”

  Anton chuckled. “Don’t give a fuck if he won. That wasn’t the point.”

  “What was the point?” Millings asked, hesitation in his voice.