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She takes a step toward me and winces when she trips on the curb and lands harder than she expected. My hands reach out for her, but I stop myself at the last second, too afraid to touch her and cause her more pain.
“Why did you wince? Who did this to you?”
I want to scream the questions, but I force myself to take a breath and relax. It’s not her fault some asshole with a death wish did this, and I don’t want her to think that I’m angry at her.
She lets out a resigned sigh and looks up at me. “He pushed me down, and I must have bruised my tailbone or something.”
“He pushed you down?” I growl out, forgetting everything I just told myself about not acting angry. “Who was it?”
Gina looks from me to Nikolai. Nikolai holds up a hand and says, “You might as well tell him. He’s going to find out anyway, except without your help, it’s going to be a very long and very painful process.”
She considers his words before turning back to me. “They were waiting for me after work yesterday. I’ve never seen them before, but they were from the Irish boxing club. They think you killed Jimmy. I told them you didn’t, that I was with you that night, but they didn’t believe me. It was Liam and Sean. Liam was the one that hurt me. Sean didn’t stop it, but I could tell he wished Liam would stop.”
“He is going to regret not stopping it,” I tell her before turning to Nikolai and switching to Russian.
“I’m going to fucking kill them,”I tell him, scrubbing a hand over my face, willing the image of Gina’s bruised arms out of my head.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Dima. We’ll handle this, but you’ve got to be smart about it.”
“You saw her bruises! He fucking pushed her onto the ground!”
The feel of Gina’s hands on my chest is the only thing that cuts through my rage. I look down at her and take a calming breath. Cupping her face in my hands, I lean down and press my forehead to hers.
Switching to English, I say, “I am so sorry, Gina. I swear this will never happen again.”
She rests her hands on mine and gives me a sweet smile. “I know it won’t, but please don’t do anything dangerous. I really am fine.”
“I’ll be in the car,” I hear Nikolai say from behind me.
She looks so small and fragile, and knowing that someone has hurt her, that someone has dared to lay even one single finger on her, shatters something inside me. It’s a fear that threatens to paralyze me, so I shove it aside and give her as much of a smile as I can manage. I know what I have to do, and I know how much it’s going to hurt her.
Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. My whole body calms as soon as I feel her against me. I kiss her gently, worried that I’ll hurt her in some way. She runs her tongue along mine and lets out a soft moan that immediately has my body reacting.
With a groan, I pull back and look at her beautiful face, memorizing every perfect detail.
Her eyes narrow the tiniest bit. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, beautiful,” I quickly tell her. “I need to go, and your boss is probably wondering where you are.” I give her one more kiss, caressing her cheek with my thumb before pulling back again. “I love you, Gina.”
“I love you, too,” she says, the worried look still on her face.
“Do not worry,” I tell her, reaching out to trail a finger along her scrunched up brow. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Be careful, Dima.”
“I will be fine. Is not me you need to worry about.”
She gives a resigned sigh and turns to go back inside. I watch until her small form disappears inside the building, and then I hurry to the idling car. I’ve barely shut the door before he’s pulling out and driving toward the Irish club.
“I’ve already called Aleksei and let him know what’s going on. He and Anton are meeting us there.”
“Nobody touches Liam but me. That fucker is mine.”
Nikolai shoots me a quick look. “Yeah, I already made that abundantly clear to Aleksei. Don’t worry, he’s yours, but we have to do this the right way. You can’t just go in there and kill the guy, Dima.”
I let the sentence hang in the air, refusing to promise any such thing. Nikolai leads us to the part of town that I’m least familiar with. We don’t hang out in the Irish area, and they don’t hang out in ours. There’s just too much bad blood between us, and Jimmy’s death certainly hasn’t eased the tension.
When we’re pulling into the parking lot of the Irish club, I take a look around and allow myself a brief moment of satisfaction at the realization that my club is a hell of a lot nicer than theirs.
