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“I don’t think so, but I appreciate your invitation, Mr. Green,” Lucas said, trying to sound friendly.
Chris’s smile slipped a notch, but he nodded as he backed toward the door. “Well, I’m glad you’re better.” He then slipped out without looking back again.
“That was disappointing,” Rowe muttered, straightening.
“How’s that?”
“Figured you’d just say let’s skip dinner and let me fuck you against the fridge,” Rowe drawled with a grin. “You know, work some of your sex magic.”
“Not my type.”
Rowe snorted and shook his head. “No, you’re craving someone else now.”
Lucas glared at his friend, his good humor slipping away. “I just want him safe.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“Really?” Lucas snapped.
Rowe paused, taking in his friend’s new sharp tone. “What?”
“Do you truly think he can handle this? Will he be fine?”
“Of course.”
Lucas shook his head, clenching his fists where they rested on the top of the marble counter. “I know you, Rowe. I know you better than anyone else. You wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice someone else if it meant protecting me, Snow, Ian, or Melissa. Can he truly handle this?”
Rowe dropped his eyes, his body tense. Stepping closer to Lucas, he pulled him into a quick hug, holding him tightly for a few seconds before thumping him on the back. “It’ll be over soon.”
It wasn’t the answer that Lucas had been looking for, and for a second Lucas couldn’t breathe. He wanted to strangle Rowe, but he never doubted where Rowe’s priorities were. He protected his wife and his family above all else. Lucas just prayed that Andrei didn’t pay the price for Rowe’s blind love and devotion.Chapter 17Andrei clenched his teeth, struggling to regulate his breathing. This fight had already gone longer than he’d expected. He just reminded himself that this opponent was the last one in the series. He’d taken out the previous two easily, giving this asshole the chance to watch his moves. The fucker was being cautious, staying out of Andrei’s reach for the most part. But they were both winded. The fight needed to end soon.
The asshole with the bleach-blond hair came in with a one-two punch. Andrei was a second too slow and the first landed, grazing the side of his jaw, while the second missed wide when Andrei ducked low. His opponent took advantage of the move, landing a knee to Andrei’s solar plexus, sending Andrei stumbling back a few steps, gasping for air. Blondie followed as Andrei expected, keeping the pressure on with a flurry of punches that Andrei deftly blocked, using the moment to gather his wits about him while catching his breath.
As much as he hated to admit it, Blondie had a few skills. He was certainly faster than most of the bastards Andrei had been fighting for the past two weeks and had a few more tricks up his sleeve. He still wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t come out on top of this fight, but he was beginning to become concerned as to whether he’d escape injury.
Blondie threw a lead hook, aimed for Andrei’s jaw right near his ear. Andrei stepped in, blocking the punch with his arm before turning it into a hook that crashed into the man’s jaw. Andrei immediately followed with another one-two punch before lowering his body to take the man out at the knees. But he was too slow. His body was tired and his own knees were fighting him. Blondie saw it coming and grabbed him by the back of the head. Andrei caught sight of the knee rushing toward his face and blocked with both hands, pushing them apart.
For a moment, the roar of the spectators watching them on two sides of the squared-off ring permeated Andrei’s mind. They were losing their mind. But then, they sensed it too. This fight was fucking over. Taking advantage of this new distance, Andrei delivered a stomp kick to the center of the man’s chest, hitting directly on the man’s sternum to lower ribs. Blondie was sent sprawling backward into the crowd, his larger mass and momentum knocking two people down before he finally stopped. Hands grabbed the man’s arms and shoulders before shoving him back into the open ring. Andrei was waiting. Taking one step, Andrei launched himself into a flying Superman punch that crashed into the man’s mouth and chin.
Blondie fell backward, limp, his head bouncing off the hard concrete twice, but it didn’t matter. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
Andrei forced himself to look away as they dragged his unconscious opponent off to the side while a couple of fight workers splashed bleach across the blood-splattered concrete. They weren’t trying to clean up the mess as much as they were trying to destroy the DNA evidence. The fights moved regularly, springing between abandoned warehouses and even the occasional fields out in the middle of nowhere just to keep the local cops off their scent. It was only when a mangled body popped up in the ER or the morgue that things went quiet for more than a week as the fight organizers waited for the heat to be off them.
