Clinch (The Underground Book 2) (7 page)

“Are we going to the same place I went to the last time?”

“Nope. This one’s similar, though. Most of the underground venues are the same. They’re invitation only, and the patrons have to know the right thing to say to the bouncer at the back entrance to get in.”

She giggled. “Like in the Twenties when people used the same venues for illegal drinking.”

“Yep. Only now it’s fighting.”

“We won’t get in trouble, will we?”

“Nah. That’s extremely rare. From the outside, it looks like a private party. And these places are so tight, no one can hear the volume of screaming happening inside.”

He pulled onto a side street and parked. Before Katie could extricate herself from the seat belt, he had rounded the car and opened the door. He took her hand to help her exit, biting the inside of his cheek when she separated her legs to swing them out the side.

As he led her toward the small green door that looked like it led to nowhere special, he faced her again from the side. “I mean it. Do not lose me in this crowd. It’s not safe.”

“Marshall lost me. In fact, he left me. And I lived to tell about it.”

“Marshall’s a damn fool. And you got lucky.”

“Probably because I bolted toward the back door to follow your idiotic friend with the injured kidney.”

Leo didn’t say a word to the man who opened the door for them. As he led her down a short dark hallway, she whispered into his ear. “No secret password?”

Leo looked down at her and smiled. “Bruce knows me.”

She nodded and wrapped her hand around his bicep, gripping him tightly.

“Ready?” he said as he stopped at the door to the main bar area. The noise inside would be deafening.

“Yep.”

Not trusting her to hang onto him, he angled her in front of him and gripped both her shoulders with his hands as they entered the loud, smoky, dark bar. The periphery was the darkest. The majority of the lighting centered on the fighters in the ring in the center of the narrow underground speakeasy.

Leo spotted Ivan and nodded when they made eye contact. He couldn’t see Alena, but he knew her small body would be squared in front of Ivan in much the same way Leo held Katie.

There were women at the fight. Lots of them. At least half the patrons were women. Some were there with a date or husband. Others were wealthy and came to bet on the fighters by their own right.

Some women had on less clothing than Katie. No doubt about that, but all of them did so with the specific goal of getting laid.

Katie’s rationale for ignoring his pleas was a bit vague. He wasn’t sure if she was reckless, disagreeable, or had no clue how vulnerable her choice of clothing made her. She was a target in this fucking short skirt and skimpy top.

Or it could be she intentionally set out to goad him. In which case, he intended to give her what she asked for and add a palm to her sweet ass while he sealed the deal.

Right.

He could tell himself that all night, but the reality was no way would he let this spitfire doctor make him lose control of his own dick. He needed to get ahold of himself. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She might think she was, but he knew when a woman was stepping outside her comfort zone.

Katie Schwan was in over her head if she’d gone to all this trouble to seduce him. The best thing to do would be to lift her sweet skirt up over her soft ass, spank her hard enough to leave a handprint, and leave her needy.

That would get the job done. It would give her a taste of what made him tick sexually without taking her pussy and making her hate him. He had no doubt he could make her hum, but he also knew she would regret it the next morning thinking back on how he handled her.

This entire relationship was out of control. He had no idea why he continued the farce. He was demanding in bed. He liked his women to scream with the need to come. Beg. Plead. And when he gave it to them, they never forgot him.

Katie was too soft. Too innocent. Too cultured. If he even suggested the kind of kinky things he wanted to do to her, her eyes would bug out and she’d run far away.

Nope. He needed to get a grip on his dick and do what he came here to do—educate the woman about MMA and the underground. That was the plan.

Wasn’t it?

When he finally had them maneuvered through the crowd so that he stood next to Ivan, Katie leaned her back against him and lifted her face to speak to Ivan. “The cut is healing nicely.”

Ivan touched the barely noticeable spot above his eyebrow. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ll live.”

Katie lowered her gaze to Alena. “You must be Alena.” She held out a hand as she shouted over the crowd.

Alena nodded. “Katie?”

“Yes. Nice to meet you.”

Ivan lifted a brow at Leo, smirking at the way Leo wrapped one arm around her waist and set the other as casually as possible on her arm. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Hell, Ivan had one hand on Alena’s shoulder and the other fisted at his side. His stance was only slightly less protective.

Ivan had moved to Chicago about a month ago. He’d slept two nights in the apartment Leo shared with Alena and Mikhail, her brother. And then he’d gotten his own place close-by.

Leo glanced down at the grip Ivan had on Alena and wondered if his feelings for the woman were purely those of a guy helping a friend out with his sister or more than that. Mikhail was very protective of his sister. Even though she was twenty-eight years old, she’d led a rough life.

Abram Gromov had managed to smuggle Alena out of Russia only a year ago. The guy had amazing connections to get that job done. None of them had ever discussed it with Abram, but Leo suspected it had cost a pretty penny. He’d been helping Mikhail make monthly payments to Abram since he’d arrived in Chicago. He had no idea what the total bill was, and he was afraid to ask.

Dmitry’s woman, Lauren, had taught Alena perfect English in the six months the two of them had lived in seclusion in the apartment they shared with Mikhail and Dmitry.

Leo knew Alena missed Lauren. She was the only person alive Alena could call a friend. It sucked, but Lauren had been the target of Anton Yenin and the Mafia in Vegas. Unless she disappeared for good, eventually Yenin would have snatched her. The bounty on Dmitry’s head was no less than hers for stealing her out from under Yenin’s men and sequestering her away for six months.

There was a hole in the rest of the fighters’ hearts without Dmitry, but it couldn’t be helped. The six men had all grown up in different Russian orphanages and had been brought over to the US by Yenin when they turned eighteen. They’d learned everything they knew about MMA under Yenin’s tutelage.

In a sense, they owed him their lives. But the man was still Bratva—Russian Mafia—and he had something enormous up his sleeve that no one could put their finger on. Sure, Yenin undoubtedly owned and operated several drug labs throughout the western half of the US, but the biggest project he had was a giant lab on the outskirts of Vegas. However, Leo didn’t buy the idea that Yenin was being closely watched by several government agencies over something as trivial as meth.

No way.

Yenin was up to something. None of the six fighters had gleaned what he was doing, but they did try to stay at least in the periphery of Yenin’s good side in case some information might filter their way.

It had been hard pretending Leo knew nothing about the FBI following Yenin’s every move, but he had no other option, and besides, he knew all of his friends were equally as leery about Yenin. None of them would be sad to see the Mafia leader go down.

The announcer’s voice rose as the fight in the ring came to a conclusion and one man’s hand was lifted into the air.

“Mikhail up next?” Leo asked Ivan.

“Yep. That fight was fast. You almost arrived late.”

There was a lull in the action as the ring cleared out and someone stepped inside to mop the sweat and blood off the floor.

“Gross.” Katie twisted her head around and cringed. “Nasty sport. Why on earth do you do this?”

Leo smiled with pride. “Love the rush. Love the money.”

Ivan chuckled. “It grows on you. Give it time.”

“I don’t think I’m willing to invest enough time in here to let it get that far.” Katie shuddered.

Alena giggled. “You will. You’ll see. I love it. I don’t get to come often because these brutes are so damn overprotective,” she elbowed Ivan in the ribs, “but it’s exciting. Especially when you know the fighter personally.”

Leo glanced down at Alena’s clothes and found that Ivan hadn’t fared much better than Leo. The woman had on jeans at least, but they were painted on, and her heels made her legs far too sexy in the skin-tight denim. Her shirt was hardly better than Katie’s, a maroon blouse that didn’t hide her breasts enough in Leo’s opinion.

Ivan must have agreed, because he kept angling Alena in a way that kept most people from seeing her chest so blatantly.

The boom of the announcer drew Leo’s attention to the ring. The four of them stood several yards from the fence. Close enough for the women to see without too much difficulty, but far enough to keep bodily fluids from raining down on them.

“In the right corner, new to the Chicago area, we have Sly ‘Kingman’ Growder…”

Katie lifted onto her toes to get a better view.

Leo set his lips near her ear to speak over the announcer. “I’ll try to give you a play by play, but there aren’t many rules in the underground. They’re lucky today. The ring brought in for the fight at least has a floor that’s padded. Sometimes they fight right on the dirt or uneven stones.”

She shuddered. “Lord.”

“…And in the left corner we have Mikhail ‘The Warrior’ Dudko.”

“So they can do anything they want? Kick anywhere? Hit anywhere?”

“Basically. A few things are frowned upon, but not strictly adhered to. If a guy wants to live to make it to his car, for example, it would be best not to gouge his opponent’s eyes or squeeze his scrotum. The ref won’t stop the fight over it, but his entourage will raise hell in the parking lot.”

She nodded.

It was hard to look away from the soft curls lying over her shoulder to watch the beginning of the match. Leo had to force his gaze from Katie to Mikhail.

Mikhail hopped on one side of the ring with his fists in front of him. His spiked blond hair stood on end, his ice-blue eyes boring into his opponent.

The crowd screamed as the fight began and the ref stepped out of the way.

Sly “Kingman” was indeed new to the circuit. Leo had heard of him, but he’d never seen him in action. The man was built, but not as large as Mikhail. At six five, Mikhail was the tallest fighter Leo knew. Leo himself was damn tall, but Mikhail had him beat by an inch.

Katie stepped back, plastering herself against Leo, who gripped her tighter around the waist. Her breasts rested on his forearm, distracting him every time she moved.

She spoke with Alena, who pointed at different things happening in the ring, but it was impossible to hear what the two were saying over the roar of the crowd.

The betting had stopped. All that was left was the fight to the finish.

Leo’s heart beat harder at the thrill of the fight. Even when he wasn’t the one in the ring, he experienced some of the same sensations as whichever of his friends was throwing the punches.

Mikhail spun around to land a high leg kick to the Kingman’s upper thigh, knocking the man back a few feet.

Kingman recovered quickly, however, and returned with a flurry of right hooks. He might have aimed at Mikhail’s face, but he wasn’t tall enough to do much damage.

Every few seconds, Katie flinched.

Ivan nudged Leo subtly with his elbow, making Leo follow his friend’s gaze to the other side of the ring. A man stood stock still across from them. His attention wasn’t on the fight, however. His feet were planted and his arms crossed. And his gaze was on Leo and Ivan.

“Think he’s one of Yenin’s cronies?”

“Could be,” Ivan shouted back. “No telling. But I don’t like it. I say we get the women out of here the second this fight ends. I’m not risking staying for the next match.”

Leo nodded agreement and resumed watching Mikhail, keeping one eye on the stranger across from them and his hands on Katie. He hoped to God bringing her to the fight wasn’t a mistake.

Ivan didn’t know the half of it. All he had to go on was knowing Anton Yenin had pursued Lauren and Dmitry out of revenge. Once the two of them fled the country, the rest of the guys had breathed a bit easier, gradually lightening up.

Yenin had never outwardly acknowledged his pursuit of Lauren and Dmitry. Hell, he’d never even verbalized that he realized she was hiding in Chicago under Dmitry’s care instead of dead as Boris and Erik had most likely insinuated to their boss.

Leo had known for a while that Boris and Erik were still paying attention to Yenin’s boys, but who was this clown with his arms crossed? He wasn’t even being subtle. After speaking with his contact on Wednesday, Leo had paid closer attention to his surroundings and been more diligent, but he hadn’t expected taking Katie out to a crowded public location would put her in serious danger.

Hell, if as many people as his contact insinuated had eyes on Leo, then it was already common knowledge that Leo spent a lot of time with Katie. No one had bothered her in all these months.

Plus, he’d already invited her out for tonight. In fact, he’d made a big deal out of insisting. Reneging on that would have made her extremely suspicious.

He might have underestimated the Bratva.

Could the guy be FBI? A glance in his direction again told Leo that was unlikely. There was every chance the FBI had men in the room, but not blatantly staring anyone down. They liked to blend.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Sequester Katie in her apartment and move in with her to keep her safe? That was not going to go over well. She’d never agree to it, and he had no interest in telling her there was any sort of danger surrounding her.

He was a fool, and he needed to figure out a way to get out of this mess.

Hell, if anyone wanted to go after Leo, they could have easily followed him for the last several months and ascertained he spent a great deal of time at Katie’s clinic.