"We're leaving," he snarls.
"Zora—" Alisa's on her feet now with panic spreading white across her flushed cheeks. "I'll call the police, okay? Oh, my God." She has her phone in her hand ready to dial, but Yefim turns on her like a caged beast.
"Sit down and stay out of family business." He slaps her phone out of her hand and she jumps back, gasping in fear.
"Let me go!" I protest one more time before he has me out the door and halfway to his car.
When he shoves me into the back seat, I scurry to the other side to get out, only to find he's enabled the child safety locks so I can't open the door from the inside. Then he's in the seat, taking off.
"Where are you taking me?" I snap at him, still trying to pry the door open. I look over my shoulder as the car surges into traffic, but it's no use.
"To my place, where you should've come after we trashed your apartment. You had a perfect out, Zora. You could've told Kazimir that his life was too dangerous and you wanted away from him. He fucking told you what he is, and you told him you love him. You fucked him." His eyes bounce between my reflection in the rearview mirror and the road in front of him
"You listened to me having sex! You're fucking disgusting." I'm so angry I could hit him, but he could wreck the car and kill us both.
"We did what we had to do to protect our sister. Now just sit back and let me deal with cleaning up your mess." Yefim holds his hand over his shoulder and says, "Now give me your phone."
"No fucking way," I hiss, hugging my arms over my chest, but I know how this will go. They'll just hold me down and take it from me. He's probably going to lock me up too, keep me from reaching out to Kazimir at all.
"This can go easy for you if you let it, Sister." His eyes look pained, but I know he could care less. If he loved me at all, he'd let me get out of this car and do things myself. I was going to tell Kazimir about the baby myself, about everything. And now whatever they have planned, I know it isn't good.
I sit back and stew, staring out at the street and the passing traffic. Yefim showed up to that cafe less than twenty minutes after I got there. If they really have been tracking me, and they know where the offices are and Kazimir's real house is, they have enough to kill him. Not just take down his businesses.
"What will you do to him?" I ask, not able to keep the emotion out of my voice.
"You should be more worried about what Bogdan is gonna do to you. You really fucked up, Z," he says, and the way he emphasizes my nickname Kaz gave me, I know he's mocking me.
This can't be happening. I have to find a way out of this and I have to get back to Kazimir to warn him. Whatever they're going to do, I know it will be bad for everyone. Including my baby.
Oh, God… Bogdan is going to use this pregnancy to hurt Kazimir. I know it.
And it's all my fault.
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."
