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“Shut up.”
I jolt, stiffening as he pulls back his jacket to flash the butt of the gun in the holster under his arm.
“Shut up, and just watch.”
“Please…”
Inside, Pascha grins at me, chuckling as Nora laughs at whatever she’s watching on his phone. He turns his gaze thoughtfully to her ass again, still grinning as he runs his hand sickeningly close to her—not touching, but only two inches away. He turns back to me again, his smile lecherous and hungry before he throws me a kissy face that makes me want to throw up.
“She’s off-limits,” I choke. “Gavan said—”
“Gavan is young and trying to find balance,” Leo hisses. “But his priority is always and will always be the business. He cares about the results, not my methods. Trust me on that.”
He nods inside to Pascha, who grins at me as he makes a big show of slowly licking his lips and glancing back at my sister.
“Get him the fuck away from her.”
“Then get me what I want, you little cunt,” Leo snarls.
He releases my arm. Instantly, I bolt inside, storm over to the desk, and yank Pascha’s phone away from Nora.
“Hey, I was watching that—”
“Mr. Stavrin and his friend need to leave.”
I say it pointedly, glaring death at Leo as he steps back inside, and then leveling pure hatred at Pascha. He plucks his phone from my outstretched hand, smirking at me in that creepy way of his before he heads to the door.
When Leo does the same, I follow him, ready to slam and lock the door behind him. But he stops suddenly in the doorway, turning to lower his mouth to my ear.
“I have no problems doing the worst you can imagine to the offspring of the woman you called mother and whatever five-dollar-fuck brought that brat into the world. Get me what I want, Elsa. Or you’ll regret it. And I can promise you, Nora certainly will too.”
14
HADES
“Fucking hell,man. You were a beast out there tonight.”
I grin through the blood in my mouth, spitting some of it out onto the grimy floor between my feet. I look up from the locker room bench to see Sean shaking his head.
“Bring that intensity to one of our sparring matches, and you might actually beat me.”
“Now Iknowyou’re jerking me off.”
He chuckles and snaps a towel at me. “Well, you might not lose as badly, at least.”
The dingy locker room we’re in is so gross it’s actually legitimately condemned. The whole building is—an old Boys and Girls Club of America gymnasium that was shut down in the late eighties for fire code violations and lead paint or some shit.
Normally, it would be unheard-of for real estate like this to sit around unsold or undeveloped for so long in New York. But we’rewayout in Brooklyn—past the hipster hangouts and ironic bars, past the Marcy Projects, past, well, everything.
This is no-man’s land. Which actually makes it pretty ideal for the underground boxing matches and occasional EDM raves the two Israeli dudes who own this place use it for.
“How’s Lamar?”
“Ech, he’ll be fine. But you reset him to default passwords with that last hit. Holyfuck, Hades.”
I grimace. I know these underground fights are supposed to be outlets for anger. It’s where you’remeantto go to blow off steam, and everyone involved understands that.
But I doubt Lamar—whom I’ve fought before—expected me to come at him like a grizzly bear on cocaine tonight. Like, I’m sitting here with just a couple of bruises, and they’re still peeling him off the floor of the ring.
