Chapter 25
KAZIMIR
Stepan's right cross catches me above the ear and the sound fills my skull before the pain does, a dull, wet crack that sends my vision blurring.
I stumble back a few steps and my heel catches the edge of the mat.
I have to grab the ropes to keep from going down.
I'm off my game. I have been for weeks and I'm struggling today to even spar.
Zora hasn't even called me since she left my house to go have coffee with her friend.
I don't know where she's at or what she's doing, and I don’t like this feeling of being out of control.
"Get your head in the ring, Kaz." Stepan circles left with his hands up and his eyes flat and locked on my center mass. "You're sleepwalking."
I push off the ropes and reset my stance, bringing my guard back up to my jaw.
My arms feel heavy and thick and wrong. I haven't felt like this since I was nineteen and still learning how to take a hit without flinching.
Usually, I'm light on my toes and able to keep up with my cousin, but today, my head really isn't in this game.
I don't know where it's at—wherever she is.
"Come on," I say, waving my arms in a beckoning motion. I'm not here to think. I'm here to spar, and letting my thoughts take control isn't good for me. I need to focus on what's in front of me.
Stepan throws a jab and I slip it, but the follow-up hook comes faster than I expect.
It clips my shoulder and drives me back another step.
He's not holding much back today. I can feel the anger in his fists.
He's sending a message with every hit that he's pissed at me.
I know the whole family and half the investors and bettors we work with are.
"Again," I snarl, though I'm not quite ready for him.
He comes forward and throws a combination—jab, cross, low hook to the body.
I block the first two but the hook gets through my guard and sinks into my ribs below my left arm.
The impact forces a grunt out of me and has me almost doubled over.
My ribs are barely healed and he knows it. He did that on purpose.
"That's what I'm talking about." He straightens and drops his hands to his sides. He's not even trying to hide how disgusted he is. "You're not here."
"I'm here, alright?" I hiss, angry he's dropped his guard. It's not a fair fight if he isn’t protecting himself and I want to fucking hit him.
"No, you're not." He pulls his mouthguard out and spits on the mat and tucks the guard into the waistband of his shorts. "You haven’t had your head in this game for weeks and everybody sees it except you."
"Put your guard back in." I knock my gloves together and nod at him. "Come on. Let's fight."
"So, what, you broke up with her or something? Is that what this is?"
I could literally smash his face in. I'm not going to, because it'd just be wrong of me to slam him when he isn't even wearing his mouth guard.
He'd lose a few teeth. But I won't tell him what’s going on with me and Zora or that she left my house yesterday and hasn't been back or even so much as sent a text.
My guess is her brothers forced her to go home or something, but you'd think she'd call.
I want to trust her, I really do, but Timur and Stepan have been getting in my head.
"That's what I thought." Stepan puts his mouthguard back in and raises his hands. His stance shifts lower, and I can see in his posture that the next exchange is gonna cost me.
"Are you here to talk or to spar? This isn’t fucking therapy. Hit me."
He comes in fast and throws a straight right that I parry, but the left hook behind it catches me flush on the jaw. My teeth slam together and I'm on one knee before I register that I went down. I can't believe he hit me that hard. I shake my head, but my vision is blurred and my jaw is throbbing.
I spit into the mat and the spit is pink. He busted something in my mouth or on my lip.
"You really think she didn't set that up?" He dances around me, staying light on his toes while I'm still reeling. His sneakers squeak on the mat. "Everything that's gone wrong in the last few months, and the woman who's been in your bed the whole time has nothing to do with it?"
"She didn't fucking do anything." I get my right foot under me and push up.
The rage of having to defend my own choices and actions over and over is getting to me.
I'm feeling like a nuke ready to detonate and he thinks he should keep pressuring me.
"She was with me through all of it. She didn't set up a goddamn thing. "
"She was with you? Really?" He walks a few steps, circling to the right as he says, "That's your defense, Kaz? She was with you, so she can't possibly be the problem."
"She's not the problem," I snarl, now angry enough to really hurt him.
They've been telling me everything that happened is because of Zora for so long now, I’m starting to doubt myself.
I love her so much, and I want her in my life, but it's not adding up anymore.
And with her gone, unable to defend herself or even answer my questions, I'm not sure what to believe anymore.
"Then who is?" He throws a jab that I slip, but the motion pulls at my bruised ribs. "Because Roman gets home in less than three days and he's walking into a disaster, and you don't have a single name to give him except hers."
"I said watch it." I shove him hard and he stumbles backward, but I can't seem to land a single blow in this sparring match.
"You know what she shows you, and that's all you know." He feints with his left and I don't bite. "Maybe if you opened your eyes, you'd see the truth. What if she is lying to you, but you're too stupid to see it because you're fucking her? Did you think of that?"
"She loves me," I tell him angrily, throwing a few jabs. He blocks them, then throws a few of his own until I clinch, wrapping my arms around him so he can't hit me anymore. "I trust her."
"You're a fool," Stepan spits, shoving me back to breach the clinch. He's breathing heavier than me, but it's because he's getting in more blows. This match is entirely one-sided because I’m spending all my time in my head and not in this game.
I take a moment to shake my head out and try to clear my thoughts, but Stepan moves faster than I realize.
He offers another jab, this one directly to my jaw, and it lays me out.
I lie staring up at the ceiling with my vision swimming as he laughs, then I hear the rip of Velcro as he starts removing his gloves.
My ears ring with a high-pitched tone that drowns out every other sound in the room.
I can feel my heartbeat in my swollen lip and in the skin above my left eye where the first punch landed minutes ago, and blood pools in my lower lip.
I don’t even want to get up anymore. He has beaten me literally and metaphorically to the point where I've given up.
Stepan stands over me and pulls his gloves off one at a time with his teeth and drops them on the mat beside my head. Then he drops his mouth guard and straddles me, staring down at me with a scowl as he rips off his headgear.
"You're an idiot, Kaz. Ro is gonna be so pissed you let him down, and you're still defending the one woman who could have done it all.
" His eyebrows lift in a haughty smirk. "Timur should've had her followed and done a workup on her.
But you know what? He trusted you and respected you and you fucking flaked. "
He steps over me, climbing out of the ring and jumping down. "I'll be in the locker room."
His footsteps fade toward the back of the gym, and a door opens and closes and then I'm alone with his accusations and my guilt.
I know he's right—not necessarily about Zora, but definitely about Uncle Roman.
He's not going to be pleased with me when he gets back from his honeymoon.
The only reason he hasn't called me by now is his anger.
I know it. When he gets here, I may not have a family anymore.
As angry as the man gets sometimes, he may ship me off to the far reaches of Russia, never to be heard of again.
I lie there for a few minutes and wonder if Stepan and Timur could be right.
Zora hasn't been herself for a few weeks.
She's distant and sad a lot. When I ask her what’s wrong, she always tells me she's worried about me, but now she's run off and isn't responding to my texts and calls.
My gut tells me she's hiding something, but I don't know if I can let myself suspect she's the reason I’m in all of this. It's too painful.
I sit on the edge of the ring with my legs hanging over the apron and pull the Velcro strap on my right glove with my teeth until it loosens enough to shake off.
The glove drops to the concrete floor and the left one follows, then I reach up and unbuckle the headgear and peel it off.
I spit the mouthguard into my palm and taste the metallic tang of blood on my tongue from where Stepan got me good.
I don't know if I can trust her.
Everything Stepan said circles through my head and starts to make me doubt my conscience. I've had no doubts about her until now because I was only seeing the way she made me feel. But they're right. Nothing adds up. She came in hot and fast, got close to me, and then shit started happening.
And now she's acting weird and not showing up, and what am I supposed to think? I can't even call her and ask her what's going on because she won't answer. Something isn't right. I just hate the nagging feeling of rejection that rises up every time I think it really could be her.
The locker room door opens and Stepan comes out with his bag on his shoulder and his hair damp and pushed back from his face. He walks to the ring and stops in front of me and stands there with his hands in the pockets of his track pants.
"I shouldn't have hit you that hard," he says softly. Though he's not one to really say he's sorry. This is as close as he would ever come, so I can respect that.
"Yeah, you should have." I run a hand down over my sweaty face and the tape scratches at my skin.
He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, then says, "I'm not trying to be right about her, Kaz.
" All of the anger and hostility has drained out of his voice.
This is him leveling with me because he thinks I'm finally ready to hear it.
"I'm trying to keep you from losing any more of what you've worked hard to achieve.
And Roman…" His words trail off. He doesn't even have to say it.
I know how pissed Ro will be over all of this.
I stare at the concrete between my feet and spit some of the blood out of my mouth. It drops to the concrete with a wet pop and smears crimson near Stepan’s white sneakers.
"Figure it out before he gets home." Stepan taps the ring apron once with his knuckles and turns and walks toward the gym door. Usually, I'm the one trying to give him good advice, but this time, I'm the idiot and he's the smart one.
I still really don't believe Zora is a part of this. And my heart doesn’t want to think she's even capable of hurting me like this, either. But right now, I don't have any other voices speaking to me, defending her. Just the accusations and the facts that aren’t lining up.
The next time I see her, I have to ask her what's going on. And I pray to God she's honest with me. Because the last thing I want is for Roman to find out it really was her and put an end to it. Because I know how he handles traitors, and I don't think I can stand to see him hurt her.