Claiming The Prize (8 page)

“
How about that for a first
showing?”
Ike said proudly.
“I worked that boy hard, but he's
thanking me now!
You can take that to the bank.”

St.
Clair laughed heartily.

“
Yeah, Ike, he's thanking
you now, but he sure has been miserable the last few weeks before
this fight!
That boy cut eleven pounds for this fight, and by last
Wednesday he was plain mad at the world.”

“
I felt so bad for him.
He
would just sit there looking at everyone eating their lunches while
he waited for his next session.
But he made weight,” Grace added
her praise.

“
He did,” St.
Clair said.
“And he kept his teeth in his mouth, too.”

The men roared their laughter, and St.
Clair struggled to go on with his story.

“
You remember that,
Gracie?”

“
Oh, I remember that day.
Too well, I remember,” she laughed, in spite of the awfulness of
the memory.

St.
Clair filled Delilah and Rosemary
in on the source of their amusement.

“
Our young trainee forgot
to put in his mouth-guard once.
Once.
He'll never forget that
again, I'll tell you!
When he and Tommy started sparring, Tommy
kicked him straight on, and Jeremy's eye tooth went flying out of
his mouth like a Life-Saver!
And the funny part is, he didn't even
know it for a minute!”

Ike tried to do damage control with
the wide-eyed women, who sat in wonder at the men's wild laughter
over such a brutal thing.

“
We took him to the
dentist.
After we stopped laughing enough to be able to drive.
Old
Dr.
Kennedy put that tooth back in, good as new!”

A few fights later, Tommy Moore
submitted his opponent in the second round easily.
Guy Antolini and
team Anto-Engage had accomplished their goals.

The main card was just beginning, but
Grace turned to Drago and simply stated that she was ready to go
whenever he was.
Many congratulations were to be accepted, however,
before they could make their exit.
Drago and Grace made a stunning
pair, and many women took notice of the tall, imposing man with
Grace Antolini.
Clad in jeans and a black dress shirt over a white
t-shirt, Drago Zadrovec was a picture of raw masculinity, muscled
yet trim.
Not a few admirers took the opportunity afforded by
Grace's many conversations on her way to the door to get an
introduction to the Slovakian fighter.

Carson was among the revelers of this
particular night, sporting a tiny brunette on his arm.
But he kept
his distance, not ready to reveal his animosity in such
company.

“
Come on, baby.
Let's get
out of here for a little while,” he suggested, flashing his
signature pretty-boy smile, knowing she'd do whatever he wanted in
the hopes of further attachment.

His hope was that she wouldn't
disappoint.

* * *

Drago and Grace returned to First
Strike.
Grace wanted to ensure the cleaning crew had finished up
and to lock the building herself.
However, once there, she decided
to work off the pent up energy watching the fights had generated.
Drago drilled footwork in the sparring cage, repeating the steps
that would control Matt Harrison's movement when they met, but his
mind was preoccupied with Grace.
Within the hour, Drago gave in to
his distraction.
He found her working kicks on the heavy bag, the
sexy, feminine frills of earlier discarded in favor of her favorite
leggings and compression shirt.
Being near her slaked his need, and
after watching awhile he moved to finish up for the night.
He
wanted to share a quiet hour or two with her before returning to
the lonely guest house.

“
I'm heading to the steam
room, if you need me.”

“
Okay.
I'll go a bit more
while you're in there.”

“
I will not take long,
milenka.”

And he retreated to the
locker.

Grace's goal was to circle the bag
while also moving in and out to set up her kicks.
Target spots, the
most effective strike zones and therefore the most desired areas to
be able to land a kick, were marked on the bag.
Grace returned to
her task with vigor, for her workouts cleared her mind.
Between the
busyness of the fight schedules, the suspension of Carson, and the
intensity of her feelings for Drago, she found herself adding
workouts quite often lately.

* * *

“
That's nice, baby,” Carson
purred.

He was relaxed in the driver's seat of
his car, the seat fully back and partially reclined.
The cute
brunette knelt between his legs sucking on his cock, doing, in his
opinion, at least an average job, enough to make him come, which
was his goal.
She was a pretty girl, he thought as he watched her
lips run his length, and when he focused on the top of her dark
head, especially in the unlit interior of his car, he could imagine
it was Grace's mouth on him.
That thought, coupled with the
vigorous stimulation he was receiving, brought Carson to the edge
of his control, and without warning he cursed and filled her mouth.
She finished, and Carson closed up his pants.

“
Where do you wanna go,
honey?”
he asked with a smile.

“
Wherever,” she replied,
smiling up at him.
“It doesn't matter to me.”

Carson enlightened her,
“Ah, you don't understand, baby.
We're
not going anywhere.
I'm asking
where
you
want me
to drop you off.”

“
What?”
she exclaimed.
“That's it?
You got your dick sucked, so it's thanks, now get
out?”

“
Uh, yeah, something like
that,” Carson laughed arrogantly.
“But don't be upset, baby.
Leave
your number.
I'll give you a call sometime.”

Collecting her jacket and bag, she
exited the car in Dirk's parking lot.
Before slamming the door she
muttered, “Asshole.”

Carson smirked, squealing tire as he
tore out of the lot.
He thought it was time to visit Grace
Antolini.

Speeding down the highway toward the
Antolini compound, Carson's eyes caught light in the windows of
First Strike, and he slowed to take a look.
The only car in front
was Grace's.
Pulling around to the back lot, he grabbed his keys to
the gym, smug at his good fortune, and slipped quietly in the back
door.
The men's locker was quiet, and Carson smiled at the thought
that the Slovak was not around to interfere.
It seemed his time
with Grace was going to be uninterrupted.

Rounding the corner into the open gym
floor, he heard the sound of flesh slapping the heavy bag and the
accompanying hissing out-rush of breath as each kick was thrown.
Grace moved fluidly as he remained in the shadows, watching her
before coming up behind her.

“
Hello sunshine,” Carson
spoke into the quiet.

Grace jumped in surprise.

“
Carson?
What are you doing
here?”

“
Are you glad to see me?”
he asked derisively.

Grace ceased her activity, staring at
him, an uneasy feeling spreading through her middle.

“
Carson, what are you doing
here?”
she repeated.

“
I came to see my best
girl.”

A smile spread across his mouth, never
touching his eyes.

“
But you've been playing a
game with me, haven't you?”

He closed the space between them as he
spoke.

Grace backed toward the wall
warily.

“
What are you talking
about?
Have you been drinking, Carson?”

Grace hit the padded wall.

“
A bit,” he said, now
directly in front of her.

He slammed his hands against the wall
on either side of her head, the smile gone.

Grace flinched in shock, frightened by
his behavior.

“
Are you fucking him yet?”
He hit the wall again.
“Answer me!”

He grabbed her by the tops of her arms
and shook her.
The initial shock passed, and anger welled inside
Grace alongside her terror.

“
Take your hands off me!”
she demanded, jerking her arms away from his grip.
“What do you
think you're doing?”

Her voice was raised, and she prayed
Drago would hear her.
Her mind raced.
If he was still in the sauna,
he may not be able to hear any of this, she thought desperately,
but Carson's presence meant that he must not be aware that Drago
was also there.
Her reasoning sparked hope in her mind.

Carson's hands dropped and a sneer
marred his face.

“
You've acted the part of
the little innocent the last two years only to make a fool of
yourself with that foreigner.
When he's done with you, you'll
realize you chose the wrong guy to whore for.”

Grace was no longer listening, for
Drago was headed toward them, and Grace had never been more
relieved at his presence.
His face a cool mask of indifference as
he stalked silently across the gym's floor, Drago grabbed Carson by
the throat, backing a stunned Khaler toward the doors.

“
I told you once to have
respect concerning Grace.
Your business here is
finished.”

Carson tore at Drago's arm in an
attempt to loosen the iron grip which cut off his breath without
success.
His forced retreat ended as he slammed against the
entrance doors.
Air rushed into his lungs in gasps as Drago
released his hold.

“
Leave and do not
return.”

Drago stood, arms now at his sides as
Carson struggled to regain his breath and clutched at his neck.
The
steady gaze of the Slovak fixed its absolute emptiness upon him,
and for the first time in his life Carson Khaler knew fear.
Men
showed anger in their eyes, and rage could be matched, but the
black void in the eyes that held his spoke of a hidden brutality
that, if unleashed, would destroy any object in its path without
remorse.
With this new realization, Carson stumbled out into the
inky darkness, thinking only of escaping the grasp of terror the
black eyes of Zadrovec had induced.

Drago knew the instant Carson
comprehended his unspoken message, just as he had known he would
have to deliver it.
As he watched the man hurry to his car, Drago
regained himself and returned to Grace, who still stood frozen
against the padded wall.
With deliberate care he examined her
person, unable to speak until finding her uninjured or
marked.

“
It's over.
You're
alright,” he reassured, pulling her into his arms.

“
If you hadn't heard
me...,” her voice trailed off a moment.
“If I'd been here
alone...”

Drago would not face those unspoken
possibilities now.

“
I did hear.
You are not
alone.”

He said the words as much for himself
as for her.

Grace shivered within his embrace.
Burying her face in his chest, she relinquished the tears that
brimmed over.
Thanking God for His providence and for the man
before her, she forced away her shock and fear.