Force Page 13

“More than anyone else, yes.”

  “Why? Isn’t he essentially just another handler? How is he different from Anton?”

  “Yenin’s the head of the mafia, baby. Abram’s just a Russian guy trying to make a buck. At least that’s my sincere hope. Otherwise, we’re all fucked.”

  “How did you know him before you came to Chicago?”

  “I met him several times in Vegas when he was in town. I had a good vibe about him and knew he lived in Chicago. That’s why I hooked us up with him when we first arrived. If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure what you and I would have done. It would have been tough to book my own fights and keep you safe somewhere. The man has seriously smart business sense and has never steered any of us wrong.

  “He books our fights, tells us where to be, and even collects and distributes our winnings. I owe him everything. Without his help, you and Alena wouldn’t be living in this apartment.”

  She drew in tighter, hugging herself fiercely with her arms.

  He shook his head. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean for you to feel like you owed me or anything. It’s not like that. I’m just telling you how important Abram is to me. Like a father I never had. Perhaps slightly seedy, but a good guy.”

  “And you’re sure he doesn’t work for Anton also?”

  Dmitry flinched. It was always a possibility. “As sure as I can be.”

  “He skims your winnings, right?”

  “Of course. That’s how it works. But he also got Alena into the country. None of us could have done that without him.”

  “Has he brought anyone else over?”

  “Mikhail was the only one of us who had a sibling he knew was left behind in an orphanage.”

  “What do you mean? None of the rest of you have brothers and sisters?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe. I don’t even know who my mother is, or my father. I don’t remember a life before I was in what you would call foster care and then transferred to an orphanage. It wasn’t as glamorous in Russia as it is here—and most of us ended up in trouble and then sent to group homes—but few of the kids I knew in the system had any knowledge of their extended families. In Russia, no one works very hard to reunite kids with their parents. We get dropped off, abandoned, and never retrieved. There are so many reasons. Poverty is rampant. If parents or a single parent can’t take care of their baby, they abandon them, thinking they will get better care from the government.

  “In some cases they may be right, but the resources to reunite families don’t exist. So once a kid gets into the system, they’re often stuck there until they age out. No one keeps records in Russia. No one gives a fuck, really. It’s abysmal. At least that’s how it was when I grew up. It may have improved in recent years.”

  Lauren wrapped her small frame around Dmitry’s body. She kissed his neck, surprising him with her quick action. “I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible.”

  He set his hands on top of her arms as she wrapped them around his shoulders. “Baby, I never knew another existence. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “But you’re here now, and so are your friends. Surely you can get out of this cycle of living beneath the law and get out from under the thumb of the mafia and move on with your lives. Yeah?”

  “I wish it were that simple. I know it seems horrific to you, but for us, this is such a vast improvement we’re simply grateful for the opportunity.”

  “To fight?”

  “Yes. Yenin had excellent trainers. The only thing that makes any sense is the fact Yenin knows we have no choice but to fight. We aren’t trained to do anything else. We aren’t educated in any way that would ensure us any sort of job—and certainly not anything that would pay as well as what we make fighting.”

  “Do you suppose more things happen under the table than you think? Maybe he skims more of your earnings than you realize behind the scenes? Hell, maybe Abram sends money to Anton after you fight.”

  Dmitry grabbed her hand and turned his body to the side to haul her onto his lap. He kissed her gently on the lips. “I find it so hard to believe Abram’s involved. That’s far-fetched to me. He’s a good guy.

  “I can’t believe for a minute he intends to give me up to those assholes. What would be in it for him? We make him a shit-ton of money. Why would he be turning over a percentage of our profits to Yenin? It’s ludicrous. I’m thinking instead Yenin has some other motive for keeping us in his clutches, and he has allowed us to believe we could wander freely for the last six months because he can’t do anything from jail or didn’t care to deal with us until he got out.”

  “But he was involved in a huge raid at his warehouse. Why would his time be up?”

  Dmitry squeezed her shoulders. “Baby, that was nothing. A slap on the wrist. The government probably held him, hoping they could nail him for something bigger while they had him. That rarely happens. Eventually they run out of time and excuses and have to let him go.”

  “Maybe that’s why they’re willing to let him out?” She sat up straighter and met his gaze. “So they can follow him and see what he’s up to?”

  “Distinctly possible. And good luck to them. I’ve been living near him and spent countless hours under his gaze for a decade, and I haven’t the first clue what makes that man tick.”

  “Could Anton’s men be paying Abram for information?”

  “Again, it’s possible, but the reality is Abram doesn’t even know much about us. He says he’s a need-to-know kind of guy, and he doesn’t need to know where I live or who I live with.”

  “He knows about me.”

  “True. He knows you exist. And Alena, of course. But he doesn’t know where we are.”

  “So he knows the four of us are together, but you’re sure he has no idea where we live?”

  Dmitry shook his head. He sure as fuck hoped not. He’d already thought through every single idea she could present, but she needed to process the possibilities just as he had until she caught up with him. “It would be so easy for someone to follow us home from a fight. Any night of the week. Mikhail and I spend a great deal of time backtracking and making sure no one is following us. We can’t be one hundred percent certain, however. And one day we’re liable to get caught.”

  She leaned into him, setting her forehead against his. “Which one of us is in more danger?” She smiled as she spoke. “I’m not sure it’s me. Sounds like it’s you.”

  He exhaled long and slow. “I’m sure you’re right, but if we’re found together, we’re both dead.”

  “Because then someone would tell Anton that not only am I alive and well, but you have been hiding me.”

  “Exactly.”

  »»•««

  Boris grabbed his shoes and plopped on the bed to tug them on. “We’re late.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact, and I’m not the holdup.” Erik grabbed his wallet and stuffed it in his pocket. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

  Boris rolled his eyes. “You’re always starving.” Erik could be a pain in the ass. Not that Boris blamed him. This entire mission to find Yenin’s wayward fighters was more than Boris cared to stomach.

  Erik led the way out the door. “Is Franco meeting us at the diner?”

  “Yes.” Boris followed Erik to the restaurant. There was no need to drive. It was literally next door to the motel.

  Franco was already sitting in a booth when they entered. He didn’t bother to stand. He leaned back on the bench and nodded toward Boris, his thick black hair long enough to hang over one dark brown eye. His skin was also dark. He wore a gray T-shirt with some rock band insignia and worn jeans. He looked the same every time Boris saw him.

  It crawled under Boris’s skin that his informant was always so cocky and flippant. The man was nothing more than some punk. He didn’t deserve the attitude he displayed, and today was worse than usual. Hopefully he knew something.

  “Boys,” Franco said as Boris and Erik took the bench across from him.

 
; Boris’s skin crawled. “What do you have for us?”

  The guy smirked. He lifted his iced tea and took a long drink before meeting Boris’s eyes again. “Good afternoon to you too.”

  Boris narrowed his gaze. “Cut to the chase. We all know this isn’t a social call.”

  Franco sat up straighter and leaned his elbows on the table. “Got lucky last night. Spotted your man Dmitry in a bar and followed him around.”

  “Did you figure out where he lives?”

  “Yep. But first the guy went to about a half dozen bars. He was looking for someone.” He leaned forward. “A woman, I suspect. And he finally found her in a bar called Inked.” He chuckled. “Probably met her the night before and couldn’t remember where she worked.”

  Boris sat up straighter. “Really?”

  “Yep. She went home with him too. Or else he went home with her. In any case, they left together, and I followed them to an apartment building. Your man Dmitry looked pissed the entire way home. She had trouble keeping up with him.” Franco shuddered. “That guy is not someone I would want to fuck with.”

  Boris leaned forward. “So you don’t know if the apartment was Dmitry’s or the woman’s, right?”

  Franco shrugged. “True. Could be either one.”

  “You’ll follow him again tonight?”

  “Of course. Got a man sitting outside that apartment building now. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

  “Nope. Just follow and report back. Don’t approach. Don’t make contact. I have people for that. I don’t want him to know he’s being followed.” Boris leaned back when the waitress came to take their orders. He and Erik ordered their usual lunch—two cheeseburgers, fries, and a beer.

  Franco declined. When the waitress was gone, Boris pushed an envelope across the table toward Franco, who stuffed it in his pocket and left without another word.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing to work.”

  Lauren spun around from the mirror in her bedroom where she was carefully applying makeup. She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to ignore that comment.”

  “Or change.” His frame filled the space completely. In fact, every time he entered a room he took up more space than a normal human. Half of it was his sheer bulk. The other half was his brooding personality.

  She stalked toward him and then patted his chest. “Get over yourself, big guy. My days of wandering around in baggy clothes watching you sulk are over. Let’s go.” She shoved him out of her way and ducked under his arm to get out of the room. It was tough, considering how incredibly delectable he was in black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that begged her to run her hands under it instead of going to work.

  Dmitry wasn’t having it, though. He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her back against him. “I don’t like you leaving the apartment. It’s dangerous.”

  She slumped against his chest. “We’ve been over this. I know you’re paranoid—”

  “Paranoid? Lauren, the Russian mob is after you.” His voice rose with every word.

  “I get that. But you said yourself they probably think I’m dead. And you have no reason to believe anyone is hunting you down, either. So until things change, I have to live my life. So do you.” She tipped her head back and twisted her neck so she could see his face.

  He blew out a breath and growled.

  She wiggled free. All the way down the hall she could feel his eyes on her back. She even put a slight sway in her step, knowing her ass—encased in a short jean skirt—would drive him crazy. She wore the same heels as last night, but today she had on a hot pink tank top that left nothing to the imagination.

  She felt sexy, and after months in hiding, she needed it.

  He growled again behind her. When she reached the kitchen, she grabbed her purse from the table—the small one she bought yesterday with everything else—and headed for the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late my second night.”

  Alena grinned at her from the couch. Mikhail leaned against the kitchen island with his legs crossed and a scowl on his face. “I don’t like this.”

  “You and me both,” Dmitry added as he passed Lauren and set a hand on the doorknob. He grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “You don’t leave my sight—ever.”

  She nodded, as much as she could with his fingers on her.

  Dmitry turned to address Mikhail again. “We’ll exit from the underground parking lot and then take the shortest route to get there. We’re far enough away from the center of Chicago, we should be fine.”

  The walk to the bar was somewhat less stressful than the trip home last night. At least this time flames weren’t coming out of Dmitry’s head, and he slowed his cadence so she didn’t have to jog to keep up.

  His gaze darted left and right constantly. He was diligent. And she appreciated it. Until they heard something more definitive from either Leo or Abram, she really didn’t want to go back into hiding. No way were these guys going to find her and Dmitry working in some off-the-beaten-path bar in Chicago.

  Dmitry scowled the entire walk, and he glanced around repeatedly.

  Every time they reached a corner to turn or cross a street, he set his palm on the small of her back. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed. For him it was casual, and she doubted he even realized he’d done it, but for her it was a sign he cared deeply for her.

  Inked was close enough to their apartment that neither a car nor public transportation was necessary, but she could tell he wasn’t comfortable with the exposure this caused. He blew out a long breath when they finally entered the bar.

  Gill was behind the counter, and he waved them toward the back as he turned to head that way. It was early. Not many patrons filled the tables at this time of day. Plus, it was also Sunday.

  Gill smiled as he shook hands with Dmitry. “Your job description is easy. I mostly need you to wander and keep an eye on the front door. It’s rare that we have an altercation in here, but when it happens, it isn’t pretty.”

  “It won’t happen on my watch,” Dmitry growled.

  Gill chuckled as he wandered back out to the front. “Didn’t think so.”

  Lauren spent the first several hours at work trying to act perfectly normal. She did her job, filled drink orders, chatted with the bartender and the other waitresses, and kept her tables clean. From the corner of her eye, she never lost sight of Dmitry. It wasn’t possible even if she tried.

  For one thing, he was an imposing figure. His mass alone stood out in a crowd, making it impossible to lose him even as more patrons arrived. For another thing, he never let her out of his sight. He wasn’t the kind of person she could easily shake loose.

  As the bar filled, so did the number of women who twisted their necks to ogle Dmitry. She couldn’t blame anyone. The tight-fitting, black T-shirt he wore left the geometric bands of tattoos on his massive arms exposed. With his head shaved, he looked fierce and powerful.

  And he was.

  Before the bar really filled to capacity, Leo walked in.

  Lauren stiffened as soon as she spotted him. She’d met him several times, but it had been over six months since she last saw him in Vegas. He hadn’t changed, but the scowl on his face spoke volumes.

  His huge bulk, comparable to Dmitry’s, caused her to twist her neck in his direction as soon as he entered the bar. He had the same short-cropped brown hair she remembered, and she could see his green eyes glinting from across the room. He was sharp and fast. His gaze landed first on Dmitry, identifying his whereabouts, and then he spotted her in less than a second.

  She shivered at the intensity in his gaze.

  He gave her a nod and then turned his attention to Dmitry and wove through the patrons to get to his friend’s side.

  “Who’s the guy?” Tina asked as she leaned over the bar to grab her tray of orders. “He’s smokin’ hot. Available?”

  Lauren smiled at Tina. “Friend of Dmitry. No idea if he’s single o
r not.” She turned to deliver her own tray to her customers, leaving Tina drooling behind her. She couldn’t blame the woman. Leo was indeed sexy. He didn’t make her panties wet like Dmitry, but he was equally bulky and impressive nonetheless.

  The two men spoke in hushed tones by the entrance, leaving her wondering what they were saying.

  ∙•∙

  “Lord, Dmitry. When you let your woman out of the house, you go all out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dmitry growled.

  Leo glanced over Dmitry’s shoulder to spot Lauren on the other side of the room. “How can you stand having her wiggling through the crowded bar wearing so little clothing and leaving nothing to the imagination of hundreds of drunk dudes?”

  “I can’t.” Dmitry narrowed his gaze, crossed his arms, and widened his stance. He glanced at two men as they entered the bar. They looked harmless. “But let me know when you find a woman and she obeys your every demand before you pass judgment.”

  Leo chuckled deeply. “Touché.”

  “So fill me in. What’s going on? What are you doing here?” There were far more important matters to discuss than Lauren’s clothing choices.

  Leo sobered. “Decided I needed a change.”

  “You’re moving here?”

  Leo nodded. “I spoke to Abram. He thinks he can line up some fights for me pretty quickly. I’m sick and tired of living under Grigory’s weak thumb. That man doesn’t give a shit about us. He grumbles endlessly about the uselessness of us six stupid fighters his son keeps around as a pet project.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  “Rarely does he arrange any fights. Well never. Occasionally he has his right-hand man Evan do it. But those opportunities are growing farther apart. I can’t live that half-assed life anymore. I need more action. We can’t fight forever, and the days are ticking by while Anton’s in jail. I need to get back in the ring more regularly.”

  “How long do you think he’ll be incarcerated?”

  Leo shook his head. “I doubt much longer. He has money. He has lawyers. Hell, his father can pull some strings and get him released. He’s above the law in the long run, but Lord. It’s taking forever. I’m tired of waiting. Maybe the Feds do have something on him. If they do, who knows how long he’ll be gone? And his father sure isn’t going to take us under his wing.”