Chapter 7 #2
“Blah, blah, blah,” I mouthed as she spoke. “Do you want to win or not?”
“Not at the expense of causing distress to my husband.”
“You used to be fun.”
The crowd groaned in sympathetic pain when Autumn flung Drea over her shoulder, body slamming her to the ground.
“Yes! Go, Autumn, go!” I yelled, cheering.
While it was clear, based on her fighting style, that Autumn had professional training, they were both quite evenly matched.
Drea was a street brawler. Honed her skills from what I assumed was a lifetime of fighting on the streets.
She was tough as shit, never stayed down for long, and I’d seen her in enough sparring matches to know she had no problem fighting fucking dirty.
Drea had somehow manipulated her way to the top, hammering into Autumn relentlessly. The crowd was going wild, everyone on their feet, cheering them on, demanding more. Even Tatiana—who had Nikolai anxiously at her side, watching her every move in case something happened—was urging them on.
“Are you out?” I asked Illayana.
My sister took the ice pack off her ankle and tested it, applying a bit of weight as she slowly stood up. She winced slightly, then shook her head. “No, I’m good.”
“You better be,” I grunted. “We’re almost down to two minutes on the clock, and you know what Father does when there’s only two minutes left.”
Illayana groaned, her head dropping before she slowly made her way to the stairs that led back up to the ring.
My siblings and I had played countless tag team matches over the years. Our names would go into a bowl, and whoever we pulled out would be our partner.
And it didn’t matter who the teams were—Aleksandr would win. Every. Single. Time.
Well…this time…I was going to fucking win.
They were five, six-minute rounds, and on the last round, with only two minutes left on the clock, Father would call a free-for-all. Basically, we could all jump in the ring and beat the shit out of each other.
My eyes drifted up to the analog clock suspended above the ring.
2:09.
2:08.
2:07.
Illayana joined me at my side, not an ounce of discomfort on her face.
2:06.
2:05.
2:04.
Across the ring, Aleksandr’s eyes flicked upward. His body leaned forward in preparation.
2:03.
2:02.
2:01.
“Two minutes left! Free-for—”
I was already moving, ducking underneath the ropes, Illayana hot on my heels. Aleksandr did the same from the other end, Arturo only a step behind him.
Autumn and Drea were trading blows. Aleksandr and Illayana ran for each other at the same time as Arturo and I did.
We clashed like a pair of raging bulls and locked into a grapple.
By skill and, okay, I’ll admit, a smidgen of good luck, I managed to wind my arm underneath his and thrust forward, bending his limb at an odd angle.
Arturo cried out in pain. I punched him in the stomach, once, twice, three times, a pain-filled grunt falling from his lips every time, and then finished it off with a front kick to his chest.
He flew back, landing in a heap in front of the ropes. With a fancy, kung-fu kind of bullshit move, he flipped himself back up and glared at me, rage simmering in his multicolored eyes.
He charged.
I kept my body loose. Waiting…waiting…He raised his fist, preparing to strike.
Illayana was on my left. I yanked her in front of me. Arturo came to a screeching halt, his fist freezing in the air an inch away from Illayana’s jaw, his face panicked and full of distress.
I popped my head around Illayana’s body. “Heh, Heh,” I teased, then struck him in the side of the head with a high kick.
Arturo’s eyes rolled back, and he went down like a house of cards.
Booyah.
“Lukyan!” Illayana whined, pushing away from me and running right on over to her poor little unconscious husband.
Both would be down for the count.
A hard body rammed into me. I went flying, landing harshly on my shoulder blade, but I used the momentum from the attack to push myself back up and onto my feet in one quick, flawless—yet slightly painful—move.
I spun.
Aleksandr stood before me, all big and broody and downright fucking murderous. I wasn’t a small dude, by any means, but my big brother fucking dwarfed me.
Despite that, though, as we stared each other down, I felt good. Like it might be my fucking day to finally beat his ass.
“That was cheating, Lukyan,” he chastised, crossing his arms. His chest expanded from the fucking movement alone.
The big brute.
I smirked, watching him closely. “You heard Father at the start of the match. No rules, remember?”
He grunted, cracking his knuckles. “That shit won’t work on me.”
Won’t it?
I looked over his shoulder, dropping my face in mask horror. It was so good, so believable, I almost bought it myself for a second.
“Oh my god! Drea!”
Panic flashed across Aleksandr’s face for a microsecond before he spun around. I ran up and kicked him in the balls from behind. He choked, a tiny, barely audible whimper falling from his lips as he dropped to his knees, hands cupping his privates.
I locked him in a choke hold, my arms wrapping around his neck, and squeezed with every ounce of strength I possessed. The crowd screamed so loudly it hurt my ears.
Aleksandr fought me, trying to find some way to pry me off him, but I was locked in. There was no getting out.
“I’m—going—to—fucking—kill you,” he rasped, struggling hard.
Yeaaaaah, he probably would.
Would be worth it, though.
“It’s beddy-bye time. Shhh, shhhh. Go to sleep. Go to sleep,” I whispered in his ear, squeezing harder. Tighter.
“You’re—dead, you—little—shit.”
“Nun-nies, little Aleksandr. Off to la-la land you go.” My arms ached from holding the pressure. It defied all odds that he was still conscious. “Go to fucking sleep, you cockroach.” I growled.
I felt the fight start to leave Aleksandr, his body slowly drooping forward.
Finally.
I guided him down as slowly and softly as I could, but when he finally lost consciousness, I couldn’t hold him up any longer, and he thumped on the ground, passed out.
Deep, panting breaths escaped me as I braced my hands on my knees. That fucker just wouldn’t quit.
“Sixty seconds!”
My eyes snapped to Autumn and Drea, duking it out near the corner of the ring.
This was finally my opportunity to win against Aleksandr. I had to take it.
It was kind of funny…Hurting my brother didn’t scare me, but hurting his wife?
That absolutely terrified me.
My brother was over-the-top protective of his little cartel queen. If I hurt her, even under the pretense of a friendly sparring match, he’d hack my balls off with a rusty cleaver and serve them to me on a silver platter.
The prospect of finally beating Aleksandr at something was far too strong to overcome, though, demolishing that tiny ball of respectful fear I had for him.
I leaped back into action with renewed purpose. Drea had Autumn on her back, pummeling into her with that scrappy energy she had. I came up behind Drea and locked her into the same headlock I’d used on Aleksandr.
I found it kind of poetic; lovers knocked out from the same technique.
Absolutely beautiful.
A love story for the ages.
Drea thrashed, her legs kicking out wildly and a string of Spanish curses flying from her mouth as I lifted her off Autumn, my arms wrapped firmly around her neck.
She tried to fight, tossing and turning, looking for some sort of opening, but finding nothing.
Drea at least had more sense than my brother, because when she realized she had no way to get out of it, she tapped my forearm three times.
I won. I fucking won.
I let her go, my scream of triumph joining that of the roaring crowd behind me.
I raised my hands in the air, basking in the victory against my older brother and Arturo, and began to pose like someone in a bodybuilding competition, flexing my muscles, turning this way and that way, all while a growl of pure elation fell from my lips.
I fucking ate up every second of it.
Nikolai jumped up onto the ring and dangled his arms over the ropes. A grin was plastered on his lips. Continuing my show of dominance, I made my way over to him.
Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “You know he’s absolutely going to murder you for that stunt, right?” he said, referring to an unconscious Aleksandr lying face down on the ring floor.
My smile was wide. Carefree. Fucking villainous. “I know. Was still worth it, though.”
Aleksandr stirred, a groan rumbling out of him. My face dropped. I checked my imaginary watch.
“You know what? I just remembered I’m late for an appointment.”
“What appointment?” Nikolai asked, his lips kicked up into a smirk.
“I’ve gotta see a man about a dog. Very, very important stuff. Cheerio.” I jumped down from the ring just as a pissed-as-fuck voice cut through the air.
“LUKYAN!” Aleksandr roared.
I bolted out of the warehouse without looking back.