Zel: Markovic MMA (18 page)

Her lips parted on a protest but she didn't fight him. She was smart enough to know that she needed him. He wondered what would happen when she was safe again. Would she walk out of his life as easily and quickly as she'd barged into it?

"Did you mean it?" She asked some time later, her voice gentle and uncertain.

He glanced at her shadowed face, the dashboard lights and street lamps barely illuminating her now. "Mean what?"

She hesitated. "That I belong to you."

He didn't even have to glance at the rearview mirror to know Kostya was watching them with interest. He ignored the driver and focused only on her. He didn't know what she wanted to hear or even what he was comfortable confirming or denying. This whole thing was one complicated mess and he was still searching for sure footing with her.

Finally, he managed an answer. "For now."

Chapter Three

An hour later, I wiped my hand across the foggy mirror and stared at my reflection. Standing naked and wet in one of Ivan's guest bathrooms, I felt incredibly off-kilter. I don't think I ever could have imagined my night would end like this. How the hell had this night gone so wrong? I'd been
this close
to finding Ruby but she'd vanished without a trace.

Maybe that was a good thing. She'd obviously evaded the Albanians who were hot on her tail. If she'd been there when I'd arrived, they would have grabbed us both or separated us or worse—possibly even killed us right there. Maybe she could stay safe a little longer. I didn't doubt Ivan would find her. He didn't strike me as the kind of man to break a promise.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was happening between us. Something
real
. I'd never had such an instant connection to any man. He definitely wasn't the sort I normally crushed on or dated. Ivan was…well…he was complicated, wasn’t he?

It was obvious that the rumors about him were true. He was a man who had once been deeply involved in Houston's criminal underworld. He'd probably been involved in it way back in Russia, too. Those tattoos weren't just for show. The way the Albanians—that man, Besian, especially—had caved to him hadn't escaped me. Ivan said Besian was one of the most dangerous men I'd ever meet. What did that say about Ivan?

I'd noticed the way he'd purposely kept his voice low and even with me during the car ride to his house. Even though anger had been radiating off him in waves, he hadn't once lost control. I sensed he was a man who was always in complete control of himself. In a way, it was infuriating. He wasn't giving me any reasons to dislike him or distance myself. If anything, I found him even more intriguing.

The sound of my phone ringing pulled me out of the guest bathroom. Towel wrapped tightly around my body, I headed into the attached bedroom and found my phone on the bed next to my purse. Vivi's face filled my phone's screen.

"Hello?'

"Oh my god! Are you okay? What happened? Should we come over?"

"Vivi, calm down! I'm okay."

"Are you sure? I was getting off shift and Nikolai wouldn't let me take the bus home. He had his driver bring me to the apartment. I asked why and he told me what happened." Vivi sounded close to tears. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." I sat down on the bed and slumped forward with a loud sigh. "Ruby called me. I was so close but I missed her. By minutes, I'm guessing. And then that man showed up and Ivan got there in time to save me. It was scary but Ivan kept me safe. He protected me."

"I could just smack you, Erin! We told you to call us if you needed help. I mean, come on! At least Lena packs heat."

"I know." I cringed at my stupidity. "But I was so worried Ruby would run or pass out or something. You know how she is."

"Yeah," Vivi said, her voice unnaturally soft. "When this is over, when she's safe and everything is okay again, you're going to have to make some hard choices about her. You can't keep enabling her."

Any other time, I would have argued with Vivi but not tonight. She was right. "I keep thinking about how crazy this has all become. I always want to save her. I'm always running around cleaning up after Ruby. I should have…I should have cut her loose a long time ago, I think."

The pained sob that escaped my throat was filled with years of grief and anguish. How many times had Ruby stolen from me? How many times had I come home to find her druggie friends passed out on our couch? How many times had her dealers accosted me or shaken me down for her owed debts? This thing now was just a culmination of years of bad choices—bad choices I'd supported by enabling her with a place to stay and money.

"She's your sister, Erin." Vivi sniffled on the other end of the phone, no doubt crying right along with me. Unlike Lena who held everything inside and refused to show any emotion, Vivi showed such warmth and empathy for people. "We do stupid things for the people we love."

I thought about the drug-addled, mentally ill mother who had nearly killed Vivi as a child and the father who had chosen his life with a hardcore outlaw motorcycle gang over her. The same father who had manipulated a twelve-year-old Vivi into helping him run drugs. To be betrayed and used in that way was a stain that never washed off. If anyone understood what I was going through right now, it was Vivi.

"I've tried to get her help so many times. I've dragged her to meetings. I've taken her to doctors for help detoxing at home. Remember when I worked three jobs last summer to pay for ninety days of rehab? She didn't even last a full month."

"Maybe this will be the nightmare that pushes her to change. Hopefully she'll finally wake the fuck up and see how badly these drugs are ruining her life and yours."

I wasn't so sure. I'd assumed a nasty overdose last summer and a brush with drug court earlier in the year would have done it but neither had touched her.

"So where are you now?"

"I'm at Ivan's house."

"Oh. Wow."

"Yeah."

"So I guess you're really safe, huh?"

"Seems that way."

"Well—what's his house like? I mean, you know, like is it obnoxiously huge with all the money he's made with his gym and his fighters?"

"It's big," I confirmed. "It's very beautifully furnished and very nice."

"And Ivan?"

"He's been very nice to me. He didn't have to put his neck on the line with those Albanians but he did."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Vivi asked, "Do you think he like, you know,
likes
you?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

"And you? Do you like him?"

"Yes. No?" I rubbed my forehead. "Maybe?"

Vivi laughed. "Well which one is it, Erin?"

"Yes," I said finally. "I do. Don't get me wrong. He's big and scary but there's just something about him. It's in his eyes. He's…vulnerable."

"Vulnerable? Ivan Markovic?" Vivi practically guffawed. "You've never seen that guy fight. I hear he's a vicious beast, Erin."

"I don't doubt it but I'm not talking about his skills with his fists. I'm talking about emotionally. I think he's vulnerable that way."

"Aren't we all?"

Vivi had me there. "Yeah, I guess."

"You know I'm right. Look, I've got to go. I've got laundry to finish and I'm going in to work the morning shift tomorrow."

"Why so many hours this week?"

"Supplies," Vivi said. "I'm working on something new and beautiful but it's different and bigger. I need more canvas and paints. It all adds up."

"Something for a new show maybe?"

"Maybe," she said coyly. "You'll have to wait and see."

"Tease!"

"Ha! But, speaking of teasing, be careful with Ivan. If he's interested in you and you're interested in him, it could get complicated, Erin. He's not the only one that's vulnerable right now."

As always, she gave wise advice far above her twenty-one years. "Duly noted, Vivi."

We said our goodbyes. I headed back into the bathroom and slipped into the grey t-shirt and black boxers Ivan had lent me. One of his men was supposed to bring me some things from my apartment but he hadn't returned yet. Ivan's boxers were huge on me so I fished around in my purse for a couple of silver snap hair clips and used them to gather and pinch the extra fabric on one side of my waist.

Satisfied with my borrowed clothing, I left the bedroom in search of Ivan. He'd fixed me a sandwich earlier in the kitchen and had given me a quick tour of the place on the way up to the guest room. In the hallway off the living room, Kostya spotted me. Without a word, he pointed to a room at the end of the corridor. I nodded and smiled, silently thanking him for his help.

I rapped my knuckles against the paneled door and waited. Ivan said something in Russian I didn't understand. His tone sounded inviting enough so I twisted the knob and pushed the door open. I found Ivan sitting behind a desk. The bright white glow of two computer monitors sitting on the far right side of his desk painted him with light. He seemed irritated with something. I just hoped it wasn't me.

He didn't look up until after I'd closed the door behind me. His eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of me leaning against the door. "Erin."

"Hey." I gestured to the door. "I can go if you're busy."

He shook his head. "No, I'm just working out some training issues at the gym. Losing three fighters opened up some spots. Now I have fighters asking to be shuffled around to different trainers and others trying to get into the gym."

"I see."

His interested gaze roamed me. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. "You look better in those clothes than I ever have."

I laughed nervously and played with the front of the cotton shirt. "Thanks by the way."

He waved his hand. "It's no trouble."

"You know it is," I countered. "I've caused you a lot of trouble in the last, oh, eight hours or so." I hesitated before asking, "Do you regret it?"

"Helping you?" He shook his head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

Ivan studied me a moment. Finally, he flicked his thick fingers. "Come here, Erin."

Mouth dry, I crossed the distance between us. Ivan pointed at the empty spot on his desk. I hopped up onto it and self-consciously tugged the hem of his borrowed shirt down against my thighs. He leaned back in his chair and asked, "What are you going to do after we find your sister?"

I considered his question. "Vivi just asked me the same thing."

His brow furrowed. "Short girl? Black hair? Works at Samovar?"

I nodded. "She knows you."

"She should," he said with a laugh. "I always tip well."

I smiled at him. "I'm sure she appreciates it."

"She better," he joked. "Every time I leave there, my wallet is noticeably lighter."

I was surprised by the way smiling and laughter softened his harsh features. I rather liked this new glimpse into Ivan. Maybe he was all tough and scary on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside.

With a long, slow exhale, I said, "I don't know what I'm going to do after we find Ruby. I'll probably try to talk her into rehab again."

"It won't work." Ivan spoke with such certainty. "
She
has to
want
to change. She has to want to kick the drugs. You can't do it for her."

I picked at the hem of the shirt. "I used to think that if I just loved her more and supported her and showed her that she had so many reasons to get clean she would. Now I'm not so sure."

"Look, I've never been addicted to drugs or alcohol but I know how hard it is to make a change. I know how difficult it is to walk away from a certain kind of life and start a new, different one. It's terrifying."

I lifted my gaze to his. "You mean when you left the mob?"

Ivan's unwavering gaze held mine. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why did I leave?" He sucked in a noisy breath. "I'd never enjoyed that life. Some men do. It was never one I wanted. It was a necessity."

"Necessity? How?"

"Back in Russia, we grew up in an orphanage. You can't even imagine how awful it was."

I could actually. I'd seen news reports on the current state of some Russian orphanages. I could only imagine what they were like thirty years ago.

"You said we. Who is we?"

"Nikolai and Yuri and Dimitri," he explained. "We were all there together as boys. We ran away as teenagers. Yuri and Dimitri found their way into the military. Nikolai and I found a different path. We learned how to survive. When things changed, when democracy and capitalism came, we realized we were in a unique position to make money." Sighing slowly, he lifted his hands and tucked them behind his head. "But then I came here and found a way to get into some honest work."

"Fighting?"

He shook his head. "I never fought in any kind of professional match."

I frowned. "No?"

"I did my fighting in a different kind of cage."

"Oh." I glanced at his heavily scarred and tattooed hands. "
Oh.
"