Page 97 of Dmitri

“She’s not here.” Daelyn’s cheeks get a little splotchy. “She’s away for the weekend and I don’t have much time left either.”

My heart slows to a stop. “How long do you have?”

“Until next Friday.”

Wow. Didn’t realize ruining my entire life came with a goddamn deadline. Wonder what’s supposed to happen next Friday? I’ll keep my questions limited for now. Daelyn’s being selective and cautious with what she’s willing to give me and the more I push, the less she’s likely to share.

“I can’t train you in a week, Dae.”

“I know.” She won’t look at me. “But anything is better than nothing, right?”

Jesus Christ, why can’t she just say his goddamn name?

The angel on my shoulder pokes my conscience.Like you told your dad about your mom?

Yeah, you kept that shit from him for adecade, asshole. Then look what happened, the Devil chimes in.

The day my father finally learned about everything, he left the house staggering like a zombie. I tried to follow him, but fell unconscious down the street, in a pile of vomit, thanks to the concussion my mom gave me with the vodka bottle.

I wasn’t able to stop my dad from going into a blind rage.

He apparently stumbled through town, into a bar, and…

Beat a man to death.

The guy’s name was Brent Calloway. He was a drug dealer on the south side who had a rap sheet a mile long. But my dad didn’t know that. He just swung his fists at the first man his fury focused on and never stopped. Not even after Brent’s face collapsed into pulp. No one tried to stop my father, either. Maybe they were too scared, or maybe they were grateful to have one more rat off the street. Who knows. My dad finally snapped out of it and climbed off the dead guy. Then he ordered a drink at the bar, called the cops, and turned himself in.

So, I knowexactlyhow far rock bottom can take you.

If I can save Daelyn from anything close to that level of misery, I’ll do it, even if it means treading carefully and scraping information out of her in other ways. I can’t begrudge her from protecting this guy. She must have her reasons, whether they’re logical or not doesn’t matter, because she’s the one who will suffer if things go south. Her and this chick named Addie.

I can handle anything that comes my way, I just don’t want them caught in the crossfire when it comes to blows with my mystery enemy.

Who the fuck is this person coming after me?

Honestly, if I made a list of people who’d love to fuck upmy life, I’d probably run out of ink. Lots of folks hold grudges. It’s one more reason I keep my circle small and stay on my turf. My first reaction is suspecting a club member. As a Dom, I’ve pleasured plenty of people in those rooms, and some have very jealous other halves, but I can’t imagine any of them would go this far. They’re too high in society to fuck around and find out with me. They’re too weak.

Which means it’s someone lower. My long-awaited return to the Scrapyard may have opened the door for past fighters to come at me for revenge. Not everyone is a graceful loser. Your body isn’t the only thing that gets busted in the cage. Your pride and ego take a beating too. I’ve heard about opponents retaliating but haven’t had it happen to me before. Mostly because I’ve never given anyone a chance to try.

I live in a highly secure sex club. No one knows my full name. I don’t carry an I.D. Hell, I don’t even have social media. No one can find dirt on me because all my dealings are in the Monarch Club, where NDAs are signed in advance, or in the fight ring, where no one wants their identities known because the shit we do is illegal and no one’s trying to get caught or have our fun spoiled.

Silas is the only one who knows all our true names, and he’s so good at keeping secrets, nothing could crack him.

Bookies have tried.

Cops have tried.

Competition has tried.

He’s also excellent at covering his tracks because he makes the most money from the fights he puts together. The man has serious pull and respect in all corners of this dark world and knows how to get rid of all evidence.

I often think about how life could have been different if my dad had gone to the cage that day instead of a bar. For a price, Silas would have covered the crime for him, and he wouldn’thave gone to jail. But knowing my father, he would have felt too guilty for taking a man’s life and turned himself in, anyway.

After my dad went away to prison, my mom left, and I was on my own. Ryker was dealing with his mom, and Vault and Knox had their own shit, so staying with any of them wasn’t something I wanted to try. I stayed with Silas often, and he converted an old office on the second floor into a bedroom for me at the Scrapyard. Looking back, I guess you could say it was my first playroom. My first taste of freedom. We grew close, but never enough for him to tell me how to pull off what he could. Silas always said the less I knew, the safer I was.

Daelyn’s doing the same thing now.

“I have to be back by Sunday,” she claims, standing up. “Addie comes home then, and I need to go back to our normal life. I don’t want her to stay here alone, even for a night, and she can’t be at the club.”

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