Chapter 21 Liam
LIAM
Nik and I are in the arena gym, lifting weights.
I’m pretty sure the guy has a commercial-quality private gym in his home because he’s obscenely wealthy, so I don’t know why he’s slumming here, but whatever.
It’s hella fucking early, and no one else is around, which makes it the perfect place to talk.
“Thanks for sending your guys,” I say, wiping sweat from my brow. “Fucking Marcus was waiting for me with a crowbar. He only backed off because your crew showed up and pointed guns in his face. They told him he was out of his territory.”
“He was,” Nik grunts as he bench presses a truly inspirational amount of weight.
“The boundaries are always shifting. Your street technically is Barkov and Campisi’s turf now.
Used to be Browning territory, but we pushed them back a few months ago.
No business left for them there, so we shrank their footprint. ”
“Apparently, Marcus didn’t get that memo.”
“Mmm,” Nik hums. “Sounds like he did. Last night.”
“They said it was a gift from Nikolai Campisi-Barkov,” I say. “I thought your last name was Ivanov?”
Nik sighs and signals for me to take my turn with the bar. He sits up, running a towel over his face. “Ivanov is my birth name. My professional name. Barkov is my adopted surname, and Campisi is my wife’s surname. It is complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” I mutter. “Honestly, it’s probably better, the less I know.”
“Probably,” he agrees. “But you can’t keep living like this, Liam.”
I sit with that for a second, then grab a set of handweights, turning my back to him.
“I don’t really know what to do, Nik. My dad’s debt shouldn’t be mine, but I’ve already paid so much—some of it before he died, some after.
I thought they’d cut me a break if I kept paying, that eventually it’d be enough. You know?”
“They’re never mollified. You giving them money just showed them you had more to give.”
“So it’s my fault?” I ask. It comes across as more defensive than I intended.
Nik shakes his head. “No. Not your fault.”
I can’t seem to shut up now. “I’m tapped out.
I paid a quarter of a million to get my mom in this fucking fancy nursing home, and I pay eleven grand a month to maintain her care.
I gave these fucks as much as I could. It’s all so fucking .
..overwhelming. And my agent is shit. I need a new contract, a better deal.
It’s just…” I trail off, frustration boiling over.
Nik lets out a low chuckle, which I don’t expect. I glare over at him, but he just holds up a hand.
“Hey, I’m not laughing at your situation. It’s shit, I know. I just… I’ve never heard you say so many words in a row, man. Guess you’ve been holding all that in?”
I make a face and go back to my arm set. “Whatever, man. That’s not exactly helpful.”
Nik shrugs, toweling off and grabbing his water bottle. “No offense. Everybody’s got problems. Yours can be fixed.”
I snort, not buying it. “Yeah? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
He just nods, calm as ever. “They can. And we’re starting now. Later today, you’re meeting with an agent I know. He’s top-notch, way better than the clown you’ve got now. He’s willing to look at your situation.”
I blink, surprised, but he keeps going. “Then, on Friday after practice, you’ll meet with a financial advisor.
She’s coming in just for you. Knows her stuff and has extensive experience with complex situations.
Bring all your statements, bills, and expenses, no matter what they are.
She’s trustworthy and discreet. You can trust her. ”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling oddly emotional that he’d go out of his way for me like this. “But I still don’t know how to get the Brownings to leave me alone.”
Nik’s expression turns serious. “That’s trickier. We can keep them away from your house because of the territory lines, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try to fuck with you in other ways, or other places.”
Emma flashes through my mind, and my stomach knots. “Other ways. You mean… the people I care about could be in danger?”
He gives a slight nod. “There are some rules in this world. Not many. But some.”
“Like what?”
Nik glances over, still steady on the treadmill. “Are you sure you want to know?”
I hesitate, then shake my head. “No. Not really. I just… I have people I care about. They saw my…Uh, friend, the other night. She was with me when we got to the house and found Marcus prowling around in the shadows.”
“And what did you do?”
“I told her to go inside and lock the door.”
Nik’s mouth tightens, his jaw flexing.
I swallow, uneasy. “Was that… not the right move?”
“He knows then that this is someone you care about. By sending her inside, you signaled that she matters to you. That alone makes her leverage—if they need it.”
A cold sweat prickles down my back. The idea of Emma being pulled into all this makes me want to be sick. I grip the rails of the treadmill, fighting back a wave of nausea.
“Is this… is it normal?”I ask, trying not to go too far down the panic rabbit hole. “Is it normal for a criminal organization to come after the family member of someone in debt? Even after that person is dead? Is it normal for these people to go after people you care about to get what they want?”
Nik powers up the treadmill, fingers tapping through his workout program.
“Unfortunately, yes. If the Brownings had killed your father themselves, the debt would likely be considered settled—paid in blood. But since he took his own life, they see it as unfinished business. In their world, that’s a cheat. It means someone still has to pay.”
I frown, stepping onto the treadmill beside him.
He takes off at a blistering speed. I had no idea the guy could run that fast. It’s actually a pretty good distraction from the abject panic I’m feeling at the moment.
“Damn, man,” I mutter, forcing a jog as he keeps pace. “Did you run track in high school or something?”
Nik chuckles. He’s literally sprinting on this machine, and he can still chuckle, smile, and talk.
Holy crap.
My cardio regimen needs an overhaul as much as my finances do. I’m determined to keep up, but even my stubbornness has limits.
“How do I get out of this, man?” I ask after a few minutes. “I feel like I could give them three million today and they’d just find another excuse to bleed me dry. The debt just keeps growing. It’s never-ending.”
Nik shrugs, not missing a beat. “Maybe not. The Brownings aren’t known for fairness or honesty. They’re opportunists. Like bottom-feeders always looking for something else to latch onto.”
He glances over. “How did your dad rack up this much debt in the first place?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I honestly don’t know.
When I first started in the league, he was always short ten, twenty grand here and there—always asking for loans.
It’s like he was paying just enough to keep them off his back, but not enough to make a dent.
You know, like a credit card where you only pay the minimum and the interest just piles up? ”
Nik nods, thoughtful. “That sounds about right. They’ll milk that for as long as they can.”
“To my knowledge,” I go on, “my dad got into a high-stakes poker game. Big buy-in, big risk, but I guess he was on a hot streak for a while because he didn’t ask me for money for months. Then, he lost. Big time.”
Nik raises a brow. “He didn’t put the house up, did he?”
I shake my head. “No, thank fuck. But he didn’t have the cash to back up his bets, either. He was bluffing. Classic gambler move.”
For a while, all you can hear is the slap of our sneakers against the treadmill. Finally, Nik just mutters, “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “What a fucking mess.”
He slows to a walk and glances over. “Look, Liam, I can offer you protection, but it won’t be free.”
Cold dread twists in my gut. “Nik, I can’t just get in deeper. I’m not repeating his mistakes. I won’t owe you what I owe them.”
He holds up a hand. “I don’t expect you to.
I’ll keep it simple. Perhaps you can help out with a little work—loading or unloading shipments, nothing too strenuous or hazardous.
A few nights here and there in exchange for keeping you and the people you care about safe, at least until you get your own situation sorted. ”
“And how long does this arrangement last?” I ask, voice flat.
Nik shrugs, matter-of-fact. “Until you don’t need it anymore, Callaghan. Simple.”
I huff, rolling my shoulders as we both grab our towels. “Yeah. Simple. Nothing about my life is ever simple.”
Nik gives me one of his rare, half-smiles. “You want simple, you picked the wrong sport. Or the wrong city.”
We’re just about to leave when the door bangs open and Conner strolls in, hair sticking up like he’s been in a wind tunnel.
He stops dead, smirking like he just walked in on something scandalous.
“Well, well. Ivanov and Callaghan. Alone. Sweaty. At sunrise. Should I knock next time? Should we come back later? You two need a minute?”
Nik doesn’t even look up from tossing his towel into the hamper.
“You wouldn’t last sixty seconds in here, Murphy.”
Mickey chuckles, flicking water at Max. “I dunno, Nik, you and Liam in here early, grunting and sweating… It’s a lot of energy for this hour.”
Max just shakes his head. “Some people are built differently, man. I barely got out of bed.”
Dominic’s already peeling off his hoodie. “Yeah, but are any of you planning to lift today, or just gossiping?”
Nik heads for the exit, pausing just long enough to look at me. “Two o’clock with the agent. Friday after practice with the advisor. Don’t be late.”
I nod, and as Nik disappears.
Conner lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Callaghan. Whatever he’s cooking up for you, I hope it doesn’t kill you. Or, if it does, can I have your Honda and parking spot?”
I shake my head, grinning despite myself. “You can fight Max for it.”
Max groans louder. “Leave me out of your death-wishes, man.”
I can’t help but feel a little better.
Even with the shit storm brewing, at least I’m not in it alone.