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.

“Fine. Now get in there and put on a good show. I expect some blood.”

 

 

Alexei charged into the cage where Weston waited for him. Bloodlust surged. He’d enjoy this fight, enjoy pounding the smug smile off his opponent’s face.

Weston grinned as Alexei crossed the hard concrete, anticipation in his eyes. It looked like Weston looked forward to the fight, too.

Alexei didn’t paused, didn’t wait for the whistle. He rushed towards Weston and slammed his fist into the man’s face.

Weston reeled back in surprise, so Alexei took advantage and let off a few quick punches into the other man’s chest. Weston held his hands up in a defensive posture, blocking Alexei’s punches as best he could. Then, he kicked out, catching Alexei’s knee. Alexei sagged but caught himself before he hit the floor.

Charged silence settled over the crowd, and they were more tense with anticipation than Alexei had ever seen them. But Alexei didn’t have time to wonder about their sudden interest, because Weston stepped behind Alexei and wrapped his arm around his throat.

Alexei choked, scrambling from breath. When none came, he changed tactics, rising to his full height so Weston had to choose to let his feet dangle from the ground, or let go.

Weston held on, his arm squeezing tighter. He wrapped his legs around Alexei’s waist to get better leverage. Blackness hovered, waiting to overtake Alexei. His lungs screamed for air, but there was none to be found.

As a last resort, Alexei closed his eyes and fell backwards in plank position. They hit the ground, Weston absorbing most of the impact from the hard concrete. He grunted as Alexei squashed him to the floor, exhaling as if all the breath had been squeezed out of him. Weston’s grip loosened around Alexei’s throat and his breathing grew laboured.

Alexei levered up to drive an elbow back into Weston’s stomach, then quickly stood. He took a few deep breaths to get his lungs working again, then turned back to his opponent.

Wyatt stood outside the cage, right near where Weston struggled to stand. Alexei blinked in surprise, then swallowed as dread slid down his spine. Something was about to happen—something he wouldn’t like.

Wyatt cast an apologetic glance Alexei’s way. Alexei had a brief moment of confusion before Wyatt raised his hand and slid something through one of the gaps in the cage. It fell to the ground, ringing loudly in the quiet arena.

Weston snatched it up before Alexei could see it, as if he’d known it was coming. But it was too late. Alexei already knew what it was, and had seen this trick from McCready’s playbook before.

Brass knuckles.

Weston straightened, his fist clenching around the glinting metal on his hand. Alexei spared another glance for Wyatt, but he just twisted his face in apology and backed away.

Alexei turned back to Weston, who grinned. Blood rushed to Alexei’s ears and ran through his veins like lightning. Fury clutched at him. McCready had never dared pull this trick against him before.

Well, if that’s the way he wanted it, then Alexei would give it to him.

He strode forward, itching to do some damage to Weston. The smug asshole deserved to have that grin wiped from his face. He threw a punch, but his anger made him clumsy. His fist glanced off Weston’s cheek, throwing Alexei off balance.

Weston took advantage of the opportunity, landing a solid punch to Alexei’s side. Agony lanced through him at the contact, stealing his breath. Alexei stumbled into the cage, trying to breathe deeply through the pain.

Brass knuckle-clad fist raised, ready to do more damage, Weston strode closer. Alexei forced the pain aside and focused, knowing he had to end this quickly. He blinked to clear his mind, watching that metal glint come closer.

As soon as Weston swung, Alexei stepped out of the way and elbowed Weston in the temple. Hard.

Weston stumbled and blinked, dazed. Alexei didn’t give him a second to recover. Instead, he punched him twice in the face, and then once more for good measure. Weston fell to his knees, gaze vague. Alexei was too furious, too thorough, to take any chances. Rather than assume the fight was done, he kicked Weston hard in the side and the other man toppled to the filthy floor.

Satisfaction rose in him at the sight of his opponent in the dirt. But the bloodlust drained out of him when Weston didn’t get up. His opponent was defeated, and there was no fight left.

Alexei’s gaze found McCready at the back of the crowd. The man’s sour expression was visible across the warehouse even in the dull light. Alexei hoped his win tonight had screwed something over for McCready. The unfair fight had snapped something in Alexei, a deep resentment of McCready flaring to life that he was sure the other man returned. Hopefully, he’d lost money on the fight tonight.

For now, that was the only punishment Alexei could dish out.

His side set a stabbing pain through his chest, bringing Alexei back to the moment. He cast a final glance at Weston, who still groaned on the ground, then turned and walked away.

But Alexei had the distinct feeling his life had just changed, and not for the better.