Page 65 of Beautiful Rush
“You’re a self-made man. You came from nothing and made something of yourself.” He gave me a friendly jab on the upper arm. If this was what he considered ‘making something of yourself’ that was pretty fucking pathetic. “That’s why I respect you. That’s why I let you into my close circle. Let’s go a few rounds. Leon will be the referee.” He raised his brows in a challenge.
“Just stay away from my face.” I graced him with my most charming smile as we climbed into the ring.
Dmitri laughed and looked over at Leon, his constant shadow who had positioned himself outside the ropes, arms crossed, stance wide. No way in hell would Leon be an unbiased ref. “Pretty boy is vain.”
Leon grunted. He didn’t even crack a smile.
“You need to get a sense of humor,” Dmitri chided.
“Are you gonna fight the pretty boy or kiss him?” Leon asked dryly, earning a laugh from me and Dmitri.
Dmitri and I tapped our gloved right hands. “Anything is fair game except the junk,” he said.
I nodded and shot him a grin as I bounced on the balls of my feet. “You’re going down.”
“Leon will have to carry you out of the ring.”
“Game on.”
Four un-refereed rounds later, I ended up with a split lip, a black eye, and bruised ribs. Dmitri didn’t fare much better. We beat the shit out of each other, evenly matched and not holding anything back. I landed a body shot to the liver that made him double over and an uppercut to the jaw that snapped his head back.
“You need to move your feet, not stand there like a stone statue,” I taunted as I dodged a powerful right hook aimed at my face, his favorite target. “Try some weaving and bobbing.”
“You punch like a pansy.” He grunted as my fist landed in his solar plexus, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Pansy, my ass.
Playing fair had never been in the cards. Later, we limped out of the gym and into the glaring sunlight, looking like two thugs after a street fight, a stronger bond having been forged. Sometimes I had to remind myself that I was a cop and he was a criminal. We were not friends. What a mind-fuck this assignment was. It had hit too close to home and had stirred up memories best forgotten.
“You’re coming to the dinner with me,” he said, referring to the dinner in two weeks’ time when he planned to wine and dine Petrov. Pay dirt. This was exactly where I needed to be. “I want you to meet Ivan. You’ll be the ambassador. Break the ice with some of your smooth talk and jokes.” He chuckled, happier than a kid at Disney World. Dmitri wanted to make a good impression on Ivan Petrov who he admired. I detected a hint of hero worship. In Dmitri’s world, Ivan was at the top of the food chain. He acted like we were courting him rather than cutting a deal that would net tens of millions for Dmitri. He had his hopes set on buying the McMansion in the Hamptons and believed that Petrov was the man to make this happen for him.
One week later, on my twenty-ninth birthday, Dmitri took me to his tailor and his barber. The new suit and haircut made me look more like Deacon than Kosta. The expensive designer version of Deacon.
The game had changed. The stakes were higher. This was not just a job anymore.
I had forgotten that I was Aleksei Konstantin Nikolevksy. I was about to be reminded of exactly who I was.
20
Keira
“Istill can’t believe you got married without us,” Eden saidas we ate our deli sandwiches on a bench in McCarren Park in the mellow late-September sunshine, so different from that oppressively hot August day I’d come here with Connor and Killian.
“You’re starting to sound like my mother. You need to get over it,” Ava said, elbowing Eden in the ribs.
“Ouch. You have sharp elbows. Must you be so physical?”
Ava winced. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“I’m hoping Killian will forget,” Eden said with a sigh. “He hid the stupid ladder.”
Eden was painting a mural in the new rec center.A few days ago, Eden had climbed a ladder to paint the top part of her mural. When Killian saw her, he lost his shitand they had a massive argument. That was how we all found out that Eden waseight weekspregnant, something she had wanted to keep between her and Killian until she was in her second trimester.
“Do you know wherethe ladderis?” she asked Ava, perking up.
“Nope,” Ava said, taking a big bite of her sandwich.
I was harboring theladderat Atlas Motors. Killian had delivered it tothe garage, with strict instructions thatnobodywasallowed totell Eden about it.Tatehad shakenhis head and muttered something about not getting involved in familyaffairs.
