Romance: Bad Boy Romance: Rough Play - A British Football Romance (Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Sports Romance) (13 page)

''We're Russians. We've got a lot of friends to call
on,
and that's what I'm going to do. Very soon Hyka will be floating face down in the Hudson River.''

''But what about Igor? Who will look after him?''

''Go back to London. Igor will contact you when he gets better. If he does.''

Cassy thought about what he'd just said. ''If he does.'' There was a chance Igor would be a vegetable, but if Michael
were
in danger, she would go back to London.

*****

Jesus what wrong with me Cassy thought as she leaned over the flower border and threw up? She'd taken Michael for a walk in the garden of Igor's London home and suddenly felt ill.

''Sick?'' Michael asked.

“Yes. I feel a bit sick. Shall we go inside?''

Michael nodded. ''Inside. Yes inside.''

Cassy went to the bathroom and threw up again. ''Shit,'' she muttered. She took off her top and felt her breasts. She hadn't noticed, but they were a little sensitive to the touch. I'm in a foreign country with the responsibility of an autistic brother, and I'm more than likely pregnant, she thought.

''Michael, we've  got to go far a walk again,'' she said.

They wandered slowly down to a drug store and went inside. The old woman behind the counter gave her a tester kit and Cassy paid.

Cassy didn't know what to think when the display showed: ''Pregnant.'' She wanted to cry. She was thousands of miles from home, and the father of her child was unconscious in
hospital
. She put her hand on her belly and closed her eyes. Suddenly she was overcome with tender feelings for Igor that were so strong, she picked up her cellphone and called Dima.

''Great timing,'' he said. ''I'm at the hospital. They called me and told me he'd woken up. Do you want to speak to him?''

''Oh yes,'' she said enthusiastically.

''Hello,'' he said.

''How are you feeling?''

''Okay. The doctor says I'll be out in a few days. They were a bit worried about me,  but the swelling in my  brain has gone down.''

''Thank God. Igor, when are you coming to London. I need to talk to you.''

''What about?''

''I can't tell you on the phone, but I need you to come here as soon as you can.''

''Are you okay?'' he asked.

''Yes perfectly. Michael is
okay
as well. It's just, I.........I need you.''

Igor smiled. He was pleased she'd said that.
He
'd realized in the few hours he'd been awake that he needed her very much as well. When he thought of her, he knew his days of womanizing were gone. There was only one woman for him now. ''Cassy, Dima and I have one last task, then I will come to London.''

''What
task
?'' she asked.

''We have to finish what we started.''

''No Igor. You
were almost killed
. My God, you're lying in a hospital bed and talking about going out to fight. Are you insane?''

''Insane or not Hyka is going to pay. This time, we're going with our friends.''

''No Igor, I forbid it.''

''And who are you to forbid me anything? If you
remember,
I helped you when I didn't have to. Without me, Michael would be dog meat. Never talk to me like that again.''

Cassy wanted to tell him about the baby. That's why she was so worried. She didn't want her child to grow up without a father. ''Sorry. Do what you have to do. But come to me in one piece and soon. Okay?''

''Alright,'' he said.

When he'd hung
up,
Cassy called a friend of her late
father's
.

''Dennis it's Cassy.''

''Cassy. How's Michael after what happened to him?''

''Okay I think. There doesn't seem to be any
bad
reaction. Maybe in the future, who knows.''

''Margery and I were so sorry to hear what happened. But at least, he's home now.''

''Actually, we're in London, but it's a long story. Dennis, I need your help. I want to sell everything. The business and the house.''

''Wow. Are you sure?''

''Perfectly sure. I was never really interested in the toy business, and I don't think dad would have minded me selling it. What do you think it's worth?''

''About fifteen billion dollars.''

''Really?''

''Yes,
really
.''

''Can you start the procedure for me? I'll see that you're well remunerated.''

''Sure. Give me a couple of
weeks; I
'll consult the lawyers and get back to you.''

''Thanks, Dennis.''

Cassy sat down and wondered what it would be like to have that kind of money in the bank. She didn't want to be a business
woman; she
wanted to be a good mother. With that kind of security,
she
could help her children become anything they wanted. She'd never have to work
again,
and she could buy Michael all the care he needed.

Cassy had promised Igor she wouldn't call him for a few days. He needed time with Dima to correlate a plan for the extermination of the man who kidnapped Michael. Her sickness
continued,
and she often went to bed very early and dreamed about how Igor would react when he found out she was expecting his child. 

After a week, she started to worry. She called.

''Igor. What's happening? I'm worried.''

''Not now,'' he said and hung up.

What the hell?
She
thought. She called back.

''Listen, I'm in the middle of something. Haven't you got any fucking patience?'' Igor said.

''Sorry,'' she replied.

Perhaps she'd interrupted him in
the middle
of the task at hand, she thought. Still, even if she had, there was no need for him to talk to her like that. When he got to London, she would inform him of her displeasure at the way he spoke to her.

*****

Michael was sitting in an armchair working out how many roses were on the wallpaper, and Cassy was lying on the sofa feeling queasy. CNN was on TV, more as background than active viewing.

Cassy started to listen when she heard the words, ''Albanian and Russian.''

''There has been a shoot out in Brighton Beach, New York between what is thought to be a Russian gang and an Albanian gang. It isn't clear what the motive was, but eye witnesses report a group of about twenty Russians bursting into a well know
restaurant
that belongs to Murat
Hyka,
an Albanian
businessman
. The whereabouts of Mr. Hyka is unknown, but it
is thought
he was taken away from the scene by a group of Russian men. So far the police have made no comment, except to confirm that three Russians
were killed
in the shootout and five Albanians.''

''No,'' Cassy said. ''Oh God no, please don't let it be him.''

''Cassy okay?'' Michael asked.

''Yes darling, I
'm fine,
'' she sobbed.

''Don't
look fine
,'' he observed.

''No really I'm fine.''

Cassy left the room and tried to call Igor. No reply. She tried Dima. Also no
reply
. Now she was frantic. If it was him, what would she do? No, it couldn't be. The reporter had said there had been twenty
Russians,
and only three were dead. The chances were, Igor wasn't one of them.

Throughout the evening, she kept CNN
on
and saw the same report time after time. It was no comfort. The names of the dead
weren't given
. All she was doing was making herself more miserable, she thought.

''Bedtime Michael,'' she said at half past ten.

When Cassy got ready for bed, she prayed that he was still alive. She closed her eyes and tried to
sleep,
but it was useless. An hour later
she
got up and wandered down to the sitting room. She turned on the TV and again waited for news.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. ''Michael,
go
to bed,'' she said.

''It isn't Michael. It's me.''

Cassy jumped up and threw herself at Igor. ''How the hell did you get here so quickly?''

''It's only five hours flying from New York.''

''I thought you were dead. They said on CNN......''

''Never believe the press.''

He kissed her and lifted her up. ''There's only one place I want to go with you,'' he said.

''You'll have to be very careful with me from now on,'' she said. He looked at her quizzically. ''I'm pregnant.''

''What? How?''

''That's the dumbest question I've ever heard. I'm about five weeks.''

''So, it's mine?''

''Jesus Igor. What do you take
me for
?
Of course,
it's yours. You're going to be a father.''

''Oh my God. Really?''

''Yes.''

He took her to the bedroom and made love to her. He was a passionate lover, but this time, he was gentle, tender and very loving. Cassy fell asleep more satisfied than ever in the knowledge that he was safe.

When they woke, she rolled to
him,
and he put his arms around her.

''What happened?'' She asked.

''Dima, me and a few others went to his restaurant. We asked him about Michel. He told us to fuck off. He was
very rude
. A few of his men came out and started shooting, but we soon silenced them. Then we took the fat little ass-hole and threw him in the river. At the time, he was wearing a concrete sock.'' He squeezed Cassy to him. ''It's over Cassy.
You and Michael are
safe now. We can go back to New York.''

''I don't want to. I'm selling all my assets in America. I want Michael to have a happy home here. England is much less violent than the US.
He's been
through a lot. I'll pocket a few billion from the sale of the toy
business,
and we can live a happy life, without worry.''

''Okay. What do you think about us?''

''I don't want you. You are far too violent.''

Igor sat up and looked at her face. She was laughing. ''Joke, right?''

''Of course, it's a joke. I love you. I
was terrified
you'd
been killed
. At that
moment,
I knew you were the one for me.''

''And I love you. So, let's stay here. I'll make some inquiries about a school for  Michael.''

Michael, I'm having a baby,'' Cassy said at breakfast.

''Baby,'' he repeated.

''You know what I mean. Don't you? We are going to have a baby in the house.''

Michael looked at her and put his hand on her belly. ''Okay. A baby,'' he said.

*****

Cassy had a boy and a year later a girl. She and Igor were married when both children were old enough to walk down the aisle with them. Igor concentrated on buying and selling real estate and never again entered into dubious activities.

Michael lived with Cassy and Igor. Their children loved him and looked after him as a brother.

*****

THE END

Five years is a long time.  It would have been longer if my mother hadn’t up and got sick.  She was an old bat, crazy as they come, and to
me,
she always seemed invincible when I was younger.  I guess I was wrong.

I hated
her
while I was growing up.  We never saw eye to eye.  She was devout and resolute in her beliefs.  I was always the carefree spirit, ready to hit the road when the whim took me.  She probably hated that about me, kept wanting me to settle down and start a family.  She should have known that just wasn’t who I was.

When the taxi dropped me off in front of the old house, I wanted nothing more than to set the place on fire and leave, almost did when I was younger.  Too many memories
were made
in this house, and most of them I wished I could forget. 

The
house
looked as it always had, run down but taken
care of
.  The paint was faded and
cracking, and
the windows were so grimy they couldn’t
be seen through
.  The small white picket fence was still there, almost entirely knocked over now. 

I wondered what my dad would think of it after all these years.  I always thought of his grizzled face staring down
at
me from whatever cloud he was sitting on; judging as he always had.  I’d still received messages from him the entire time I was away, but they stopped after he caught a bullet.  I guess if you live as loud as he did, you’d end up in a grave sooner rather than later.

“Hey momma,” I shouted from the front door.

“Tara, is that you?” she replied from the den. 

I clomped around the house in my old motorcycle boots till I found her.

“Yeah, it’s me, momma.  How
you
feelin’
?” I asked.

“How the hell do you think I’m feeling?  I can barely get up to take a piss.  Get over here and give your momma a hug,” she said.

I learned from an early age that you don’t say no when your mother asks you to do something.  I leaned over her and gave her
a solid
embrace.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

“You can get me the last twenty years of my life back; that would do it,” she laughed only to start hacking and coughing.

I patted her back in a vain attempt to help her.  I looked through her prescriptions; one of which was
empty,
looked like painkillers.

“How about you just get me a refill on that before my aches start acting up again?  I was just going to watch TV
anyway
.”

“Alright, momma.  I’ll be back.”

“I think your old bike is still in the
garage,
if you want to use that to get around.  I haven’t had a car for a
couple of
years now.”

“I’m glad you never got rid of it,” I said.

“Some things you can’t get rid of,” she replied.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead and took the pill bottle, tucking it into my pocket. 

I went back outside and
circled around
to the old garage.  My dad’s old car was still sat there, waiting for someone to care.  I eyed my old motorcycle, peeking out from behind a canvas sheet I’d thrown over it years ago. 

My hand moved automatically, tugging the sheet away.  She was a killer ride, and I wondered how I’d gone so long without her in my life.  The day to day just didn’t have the same feel as it had when I was younger and more irresponsible. 

I ran my hand along the gas tank, wiping away the layers of dirt she
was covered in
.  She wasn’t the biggest bike, nor was she the fastest, but she was
mine,
and that was all that mattered. 

I threw my leg
over,
and a cloud of dust met me as I settled into the seat.  I jerked down on the starter and just as she always
had;
she turned over on the first crank. 

I hadn’t ridden in so many years; I started to get antsy.
  She wanted to be taken out to flex those old muscles.  I walked my way out of the garage carefully avoiding the old car. 

I started feeling that sense of freedom I’d had all those years ago.  The freedom I had when I snuck out late at night to meet up with my old boyfriend; the nights when
I
’d make a mistake and come home in handcuffs; even the nights when I wouldn’t come home at all, the memories were all flooding back.

I steered myself away from my old home and joined up with the road.  There was a canyon road that had some of the finest sights in the
area,
and I felt it the perfect time to see them, momma could wait a few more minutes.

When I was free from the town I let loose, my hair whipped in the wind, and the sun warmed my face.  I opened her up and leaned into the
corners;
I had these roads all memorized and could ride them blindfolded.

Then the familiar rumble of a motorcycle gang filled the canyon.  I sense of dread befell me; if it was the person I thought it was, then
I
had no idea what I’d say to him.  I pulled my cycle off the road and clicked her off.

From the bend in the road, a band of motorcycles
filed
out.  I didn’t recognize any of them, which left me with a feeling of relief.  But, the guys still made eyes at me as they
rode by
. 

I was used to it.  I’d had a lot of guys fight over me in the past.  But, none
were
as
strong
as Buck.  I once saw him beat up three guys at the same time just for looking at me.  He knew how to impress a woman.

There was a time when I would have done anything
for
that man, but he could never see me as his one and only.  I’d always catch him with another girl, and he never understood why I thought it was such a big deal.  If he wanted me to be his, then he needed to be mine.

Two of the bikers from the gang pulled off, and I knew what was coming.

“Hey there,” said the taller of the two that stopped.

“Howdy,” I replied. 

“Who do you ride with?” he asked.

“I’m with Buck and his boys,” I replied.

The two of them looked at each other,
in
a sort of horrified way. 

“Pleasure meeting you,” they said as they turned and zoomed back to their motorcycles waiting nearby. 

I laughed; Buck’s reputation was still just as
serious
now as it was before.  He had a bad
temper
and a lousy habit of letting everyone know. 

Despite all his faults, I still wanted to see him.  I somehow felt that he deserved to know that I was back in town.  Not a single member of his crew would come through without at least paying homage to the leader.  I felt no different.

I slung myself back in the saddle and kicked the old girl back on.  I tore down the road and towards the old bar that raised me; it wasn’t very far from here.

The Whiplash Tavern was a sort of landmark in these parts.  The sign outside was well past any state of repair.  The front of the bar was full of motorcycles of all shape,
size,
and color.  The signs in the windows hummed their neon tune as I eased my cycle into an empty place.

Before I could finish pulling in, I heard a loud crash echo from inside the bar.  Then what sounded like glass breaking, followed by the sound of a gunshot. 

Then I saw Buck, sauntering out the front door with another man held by his collar and his belt.

“You take your shit and stay out of my town,” shouted Buck in his grizzly tone.

He threw the man to the ground as though he were a sack of flour. 

“You’ll regret this,” said the man on the ground.

“I get told that a lot,” started Buck, “and I’m still waiting.”

The young pup picked himself from the ground and sprinted to a nearby motorcycle.  Another man, about his same size, ran out of the tavern and joined him.  They looked like they were in a hurry.

Then Buck turned over to me.  It was the first time I’d seen him in five
years,
and it looked like he hadn’t aged a day. 
He
was still the
barrel-chested
and grizzled man I’d known since I was a girl.  He towered over nearly every other man I knew, and when he wasn’t the tallest, he was still usually the biggest.  His cropped and disheveled beard was starting to show slight signs of
grey
, giving him a distinguished look, and his tattooed arms still looked just as strong as the first day I met him, maybe even a little bigger than before.

He clenched his
jaw
and let out a grunt before disappearing back inside.  Maybe he wasn’t excited to see me, and it made me a little nervous.

I entered quietly, but recognized everyone, and they all recognized me.  A loud cheer echoed through the small
establishment,
and I waved a meek hello.

“Thought that was your bike
comin’
down the road,” Buck said as he walked back behind the bar.

“I’m amazed you can always tell,” I said.

“I damn near built that bike myself,” he replied, “I know my
own
work.”

He shoved a beer my direction.  I took it and sipped anxiously.

“What brought you back to town,” he asked.

I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I just stared into my drink.

“My momma’s
sick,
” I said.

He stayed silent and washed a glass with his dishrag.  He wasn’t one for words.

“I’ll be here a
couple of
months till she either gets
better
or dies,” I said, “and I don’t know which one would be better.”

“That old hag won’t die,” he started, “Paul knew how to pick his women.  And, he picked a good one.”

Paul was my Dad’s name; he used to run the gang here.  Buck was always his second, and when Dad finally kicked the bucket, all his assets went straight to Buck; the bar, his bike, and to some extent, me. 

“Whatever happens, I just don’t want to be here too long.  I got a new life to get back to.”

Buck slammed the glass
on
the counter so hard it shattered.

“Why the hell
you gotta
go
sayin’
stuff like that.  You just got
back,
and you’re already
fixin’
to leave.”

“I’m not
fixin’
to leave nowhere, yet.  But, my eye is always on the door,” I replied.

“I’ll never get what made you take off the first time.”

“The train of girls that was always
walkin’
out of your bedroom would be a good place to look.”

“I quit all that, and you know it,” he said.

“I never saw any of that,” I replied.

“Well, maybe if you stuck around like you were supposed to, you would’ve seen it.”

I turned to look him in the eye.  He still had that
soulful
glare; I could never tell if he was getting ready to break something or kiss me, but sometimes I’m sure it was both.

“I’m here now, Buck.”

He started sweeping the shards of glass from the bar with his hand. 

“That’s right, you are,” he said.

The men around the bar seemed entranced by our conversation, but as I looked around at
them,
they all did their best to return to their
normal
conversations.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I asked.

He leaned over the bar, which I could hear
crack
and groan under his weight, and whispered in my ear.

“Now that you’re here, I’m going to make you remember why it was so hard to leave.  You always get me hard when you walk in the bar in those tight jeans.”

I wanted to have him, but I knew that if I
did,
I would regret it for the rest of my life.  I needed to keep that part of my past closed.  His boyish charms were the hardest to resist. 

I leaned over and whispered a reply in his ear.

“I can’t do it, Buck.  I can’t go back to that life.”

He stood back up, only to lean on the back bar.  I made the mistake of letting my real feelings show with my eyes, and he knew it.  I always had large expressive eyes; which were a blessing and a curse.  Buck told me, once, that he could tell what was on my mind by what showed through my eyes.  I didn’t want to believe it but knew it to be true.