Stone Cold Knockout (House of Pain Book 1) (22 page)

“
My bad.” He laughed.

“
Well sit down, stay awhile. Unless you can't stay?” she asked, her eyes drifting from Hector's to Erica's.

“
No. We can stay,” Erica said, smiling warmly and sitting in the side chair.

“
I have to close House of Pain tonight, but I can stay for a bit,” Hector said, leaning against the bed. Gennifer laid back on the pillows, lifting her chin.

“
Alright. Out with it,” Gennifer said. “I want to hear all about how I kicked Javier Domingues' ass all over that ring.”

Hector snorted out a laugh,  glancing at Erica again.

“Well...” Erica said, looking apologetic. Gennifer looked at Hector, who shook his head sadly.

“
Oh God.” Gennifer covered her face with her hands. “How bad was it?”

“
Not too bad.” Hector said, squeezing her foot again. “You fought the good fight.”

“
I'm glad I don't remember,” Gennifer said miserably. “I guess now I'll have to admit Big J was right.” She stared down at her hands and noticed there was dried blood under her thumbnail. She wondered vaguely if it was hers or someone else's.

“
You don't remember any of it?” Hector said lightly.

“
The doctor says the memory loss is temporary,” Gennifer said. “How did your match go?”

“
Shitty,” Hector said. “Let's not talk about it.”

“
Did you keep your hands up?” she said, shaking her head.

“
Look at my fucking face. Of course I didn't.” Maria scowled at Hector, admonishing him for cursing. He shrugged, not sorry in the least.

“
Serves you right,” Gennifer couldn't resist taunting him.

“
Tan molesto
, G,” he said with a laugh. Gennifer laughed along, but she still felt like so much was missing. Silence descended on them as her smile faded. Then her hand began to tremor.

“
Don't worry, it's temporary,” Gennifer said, but her voice wavered, betraying her uncertainty. Maria squeezed her arm and gave an encouraging nod. Gennifer dropped her head back on the pillow, a wave of fatigue washing over her. “I'm so tired all of a sudden
,
” she murmured to Maria.

“
We'll go,
G,
” Hector said, blinking rapidly. “But I'll be back later.”

“
Okay. If you insist.” Gennifer said with a small smile.

“
I do.” He stared back and Gennifer could see the worry on his face. He was scared for her. Concern and fear was mirrored in all of their faces. She hated knowing that everyone was so worried about her. She hated the way they looked at her.

She hated feeling so weak.

“Hector called Mikhail,” Erica said warmly, breaking the short silence. She smiled down at Gennifer like she was conveying good news. “He's on his way.” Gennifer felt her brow furrow through the haze of fatigue.

“
Who's Mikhail?” she mumbled as her eyes drooped closed.

Chapter 18

G
ennifer opened her eyes. The room was dark, the curtains pulled closed. She wet her lips, wondering how long she'd been asleep. She turned her head and flicked her eyes to the end of the bed. A man sat there, in the chair in the corner. He was watching her, slouched low in the seat, his long legs crossed in front of him. Like he'd been there awhile. His head was shaved bald, with a beard growing in. He had a shadowy purple bruise high on his cheek. A fighter, definitely.

“
Do you need something? Water?” he said, his voice low, smooth, and accented. Russian, definitely. She knew he must be the Mikhail Erica had mentioned. She shook her head, rolling onto her back. When she moved, he did too, sitting up straighter and leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“
Water,” she said, her voice hoarse. What was it about the canned air of the hospital that her throat was always so damn dry? He nodded and stood, sauntering over to the cart by her bed. He poured her a cup from the plastic pitcher, and she took the opportunity to get a better look at him. He was hard looking, and she was not a fan of the beard. The way his body moved though—he was a natural athlete. He was big and muscular, a heavyweight most likely. But when he put down the pitcher and turned his full gaze on her, it was hard to look away. His eyes were intense. She wondered what was going on in his head, but then again, maybe she didn't want to know. She took the cup from him, with a nod of thanks.

She sipped at the water, the silence awkward between them. Or maybe she just felt awkward. He didn't look at all uncomfortable, just calm and intense, in his quiet way. He held up the little plastic container with the bullet fragment inside. She bit her lip, wanting to protest but for whatever reason, she didn't. He stared at the little piece of twisted metal, letting out a slow sigh.

“Your bullet,” he said. She blinked, surprised. Hector must have told him the story of her childhood injury... or maybe she had? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. It was like wading through knee-deep quicksand, with fog all around her. Useless. After a moment she gave up.

“
They let me keep it,” she said, finally. “It's so small. It did so much damage, and it's so small. For some reason, I always imagined it was bigger.” He set the container back on the tray table, working his jaw. “You know what the fucked up thing is?” She picked up the container, rolling it in her hands. He watched her. “That is the last thing I have of my parents.”

“
No,
solnyshka
.” He touched her blanket-covered knee, the move friendly but not without a hint of something else. His hand lingered on her leg, then he walked around the bed. “You are the last of them.”

She couldn't help it
—she smiled. “That's a nice thing to say.”

“
It is true.” He went to the window. “Do you want light?” She shook her head, not wanting the bright light to hurt her eyes. He nodded, but didn't sit back down. He worked his jaw again, like he wanted to say something.

“
Look, I'm having some memory issues right now,” she said, wanting to get it on the table.

“
Ask me a question,” he said. “Anything.”

“
You're Mikhail, right?”

“
Do not ask me something you know the answer to.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but he smiled. “It is boring.”

“
So you
are
Mikhail, then.” She sat up, running a hand though her unruly hair, coming free from her braid. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer.“What does
solnyshka
mean?” She fired another question at him. He shook his head, laughing.

“
Your Russian is terrible, as always.” He moved closer, almost to the edge of the bed. “Do you remember the first day we ran in Central Park?”

“
No.” She swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortable. This man knew her and she was completely clueless. She felt naked and exposed. A roaming heat blossomed under her chest and moved up her neck at the mere thought of being naked with him. He was so big, he seemed to crowd the room. She swiped a hand across her forehead, feeling wholly out of her element.

“
We went to run. When I look over my shoulder, you are there, bathed in sunlight.
Solnyshka
. Little sun,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Next question.”

“
How did we meet?”

“
House of Pain. You called me an asshole and headbutted me.” He looked away, smiling at the memory. Gennifer had to admit that did sound like her. Goddammit, she wanted to remember. She wanted it more than anything. But her brain wasn't cooperating.

“
I'm tired, okay?” she said, laying back against the pillows. Suddenly he was touching her, his hand stroking under her chin, finding the rough line of her stitches. She brought her hand up, her fingers circling his wrist.

“
Ask another question,” he said softly.

“
Like what?” she asked, feeling like he had a specific question in mind. Everything was so confusing and tiring. Her eyelids were beginning to droop again. His soft touch and comforting presence were lulling her to sleep.

“
I have two brothers, Vadim and Nicholai,” he said, his hand roaming to her cheek. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on his voice. This man might as well be a stranger, and she normally didn't let random strangers touch her. But all of her usual fight was gone. She didn't bother resisting him, more interested in what would happen if she didn't. He went on. “Vadim and I own a restaurant here. Nicholai is still in Russia. My parents, Katya and Ivan, are dead. I grew up outside of St. Petersburg.”

“
Are you telling me your life story?” she mumbled, cocking an eyebrow.

“
The abridged version.”

“
I appreciate your brevity,” she said, smiling, and cracking an eye to see him. He was staring at her, his hand still stroking her cheek.

“
Now you know all about me,” he said, “Except for one thing.”

“
I think there are many things I don't know about you.”

“
One important thing,” he paused, sweeping a stray hair off of her forehead. After a moment of silence, Gennifer glanced up at him, catching his eye. He stared down at her, like he was preparing himself. Finally he continued. “Mikhail is my middle name. My first name is Igor. I stopped going by that name when I came here to New York.”

“
Why?” she furrowed her brow. His face darkened, and her curiosity was piqued. “That name sounds familiar.”

“
Once you asked me if I knew Igor Ivanhof and I lied to you. I said he was my brother. Because I did not want you to know.”

“
The Russian fighter. Igor Ivanhof.” Gennifer shook her head, her mind working to absorb the new information, as well as search for old memories. “That's you?”

“
Yes.” His hand still on her cheek.

“
So you lied to me,” Gennifer said, leaning into his touch and trying to figure out if she should be pissed or not. Being angry required too much energy—energy she didn't have at the moment.“Why?”

“
Because when I left Russia, I left the man I was behind, as well.” He ran his thumb across the arch of her eyebrow. She closed her eyes again, the information beginning to overwhelm her. “I am sorry I lied to you.”

“
Well, I don't remember,” she murmured. “So you're off the hook.”

“
You will remember,” he whispered.

“
When I do, I'll try to remember to be pissed, too.”

“
You tease me too much,
solnyshka,
” he said, running the back of his finger across a sore spot below her eye. She wondered if she had a black eye from fighting Javier. She winced but when he pulled away, she felt an odd sense of yearning to have him back again.

“
Are you going to leave?” she asked, realizing that she wanted him to stay.

“
No,” he said. “You will not get rid of me that easily.” She smiled at his brusque words, finally letting herself drift off to sleep. She hoped that when she woke up, she would remember the Russian. She hoped that she would remember everything.

***

Mikhail stared down at Gennifer's sleeping face, conflicting emotions clashing in his chest. She had been up and talking less than an hour ago. She seemed to be healthy, despite the injuries she'd suffered. But then again, everything had changed. When she looked at him, he no longer saw love and affection and taunting behind her eyes. She looked at him like he was a stranger, like she didn't know him at all.

He hated it. With every fiber of his being, he hated it.

But he could be patient.

He leaned against the side of the hospital bed and closed his eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over him. It felt like the world had ended, despite the fact that she was going to be fine. He loved her. More than he'd ever loved anyone. But his feelings didn't matter. His all-consuming need for her was not important. She was alive, he reminded himself. She was alive and that was all that mattered. He took her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. He brought her smooth knuckles to his lips and breathed deep. Beneath the antiseptic scent of the hospital, he could still smell his soap on her skin. Her hair still smelled like his shampoo.

She didn't remember her fight with Javier Domingues and how important it had been to her. She didn't remember that they'd taken a shower together two days ago. She didn't remember that they'd argued. She didn't remember that she said she loved him. At least the next time she said she loved him, he wouldn't hesitate to tell her he loved her, too.

“
Hmm,” she murmured, rolling her head on the stiff hospital pillow.

“
Come back to me, my love,” he whispered, dragging his teeth across her knuckles. Her eyes fluttered open and she sighed deeply as she woke.

“
Mikhail,” she whispered, her big brown eyes taking him in. “You're still here.” He tried to ignore the kick in his guts when he realized she still didn't know him. She still didn't love him back.

“
I am not leaving,” he said, straightening up, not wanting to crowd her. He reluctantly let her hand go, but she tightened her fingers, holding on to him.

“
Talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what I'm forgetting.”

“
I do not know where to start,
solnyshka
.”

“
I hate this.” She turned her face away, but not in time. He could see a single tear make its way down her cheek, and he knew she'd tried to hide her tears from him. Then he felt a tremor run through her hand and he squeezed it, letting her know he was there.

“
You do not have to hide from me,” he said. “Ever.”

“
I don't even know you,” she whispered, but she didn't let go of his hand.

“
Consider this our first date, then,” he said and she rewarded him with a laugh. A small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

“
Are you always this pushy?” she asked, rolling her head to look at him.

“
Always.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for a second, he saw his Gennifer, readying a taunt on the tip of her tongue.

“Rainbow, baby, I brought you some clothes,” Big Jimmy boomed, surprising both of them. Gennifer pulled away from him and turned toward her father, who entered the room like a wrecking ball.

“
Oh thank God. If I have to wear this gown another minute I'm going to scream.” She held  our her hand and he gave her the plastic bag of clothes. Big Jimmy caught Mikhail's eye over Gennifer's head and he did not look happy to see him. She glanced up at both of them. “Can I get privacy to change?” she asked, dropping her eyes when Mikhail looked down at her. He wondered what she was thinking, but he nodded and followed Big Jimmy out into the hallway.

“
She's being released tomorrow morning,” the big man said, his eyes cutting through Mikhail like daggers.

“
I will take her home,” Mikhail said.

“
No. She's coming home with me.” Big Jimmy shook his head. “She's going to stay with her family until she feels better. With that tremor she can't be alone.” Mikhail shook his head, not willing to relent.

“
I will take care of her,” he said.

“
She's coming home with me,” Big Jimmy said, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

“
She would want to be in her own bed,” Mikhail responded, glancing in the window to Gennifer's room. Through the curtains, he could see Gennifer sitting up in bed, her bare back to him. She lifted a T-shirt over her head and pulled it on. All of the breath in his lungs seemed to leak out as she turned her head and caught his eyes over her shoulder.