"I fucking told you to stay clean. I don't employ street fighters in my club because it draws attention and we have a huge event coming up." My chest is heaving, rage meant for some other person surging through my veins. It's displaced, but I can't really let loose with the real reason for my anger.
"It wasn't my fault. The guy came at me outside the?—"
"I don't care who came at who." I shove him backward into Yegor and Radimir's grip and pace to the other side of the room and back. I'm a caged animal, unable to be tamed. "You got arrested three weeks ago for the same thing. I pulled you out. I paid your lawyer. I told you what would happen if it happened again."
"I know, but?—"
"I put myself in the fucking ring for you! Now, two days before the most important night of the year, I get a call you're in a cell again?" I feel my face burning so hot it hurts, and my skin feels leathery and tingles, like its wind burned. I know it's my cortisol skyrocketing, but there's no controlling it now.
Korsky's face is swelling on the left side and blood runs from his mouth down his chin and drips onto his shirt. He looks over at Timur standing near the door with his arms folded, and then back at me.
"Please, Roman. I can't lose this job. I won't go near a bar or a street or anywhere I could?—"
"You're done." I pull my sleeves up past my forearms, and Korsky sees me do it and his face changes.
"Nah, man. You can't do that to me. Where will I go?"
I look at Yegor more seriously than I've been about anything in years. "Hold his right arm out."
"No! Roman, don't do this!" Korsky starts struggling. He thrashes against Yegor and Radimir, and they tighten their grip as Yegor forces the man's right arm out straight, wrist exposed. Korsky screams and begs, pulling against them with everything he has. But he's no match for two of them.
"Roman, don't do this. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'll never?—"
I grab his wrist with both hands and twist and pull, and I hear the snap of bone as it makes a clean break. Korsky screams so loud, my ears ring and his knees buckle. Yegor and Radimir hold him upright while his broken wrist dangles at an odd angle that makes Radimir look away.
It's grotesque, I know, but it has to be done. This man will never fight again, all because he should've listened to orders.
"The other one," I say.
"Roman." Timur steps forward from the doorway. "That's enough." My brother puts his hand on my chest to call me off, but I've had enough. I've been stewing in anger for nearly forty-eight hours since Mila rejected me and I have no way to release that anger. I tried sparring. It didn't work. I tried going to the gun range. It, too, did not work.
And now that I feel the slightest bit of relief, I won't back down. I glare at him as I say, "The other one."
Timur purses his lips but doesn't move to stop me again, which is smart. He knows I'd kick his ass too. Radimir forces Korsky's left arm out and Korsky is sobbing now, snot and blood running down his face. He holds his broken right wrist cradled against his chest where Yegor has released it.
"Please," Korsky whispers. "Please, I'm begging you."
I grab his left wrist and break it the same way—a hard twist and a downward pull—and the snap is louder than the first one and Korsky's scream dissolves into a wet choking sound as his body goes limp between the two men holding him. His head dropsforward and his chest heaves, and both wrists dangle, broken and useless at his sides.
The room is quiet except for Korsky's ragged breathing and the sound of my chest heaving, though the hammer of my pulse rushing past my ear drums is violent. I feel no regret, no shame, only hot, blinding rage, and without my self-control, this man would be dead.
Right now, I'm thankful to my father for teaching me to be a man of great temperance.
"Get him out of here," I say to Yegor. "Take him to Dr. Levin. Have the wrists set. Then drive him home and make sure he understands that if I see his face again, I'll break more than his wrists."
Yegor and Radimir drag Korsky toward the door with his feet dragging behind him, leaving a smear of blood the entire way. Radimir looks back at me before they disappear into the hallway, and the front door opens and closes and the house goes quiet.
No one has to tell me again that it was a bit extreme. The looks on their faces said enough. And I know if they understood what I'm feeling right now, those looks would never have come.
Timur watches me with narrowed eyes like he's trying to make me feel ashamed of what I've done, but it won't work. The anger is still burning too hot to calm down yet.
She rejected me.
And she didn't just reject me. She offered everything she has to me if I just let her go. I can't even think about how much it hurts.
I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and clench my jaw so I don’t go off on my own brother and do to him what I've just done to my unruly fighter.
"Don't," I tell him, still pacing.
