Stone Cold Knockout (House of Pain Book 1) (31 page)

“
Fuck both of you!” She pushed Hector off of her and she turned tail and ran. Erica was right, but she couldn't deal with it. She was out of control, but she didn't know how to fix what was wrong. She thundered down the metal stairs and headed to the locker room, avoiding the stares of everyone on the floor. All of them had heard the argument, no doubt. All of them probably knew about her and Mikhail as well. “Show's over everybody!” she announced as she pushed open the door.

Shaking, she let the door swing close behind her and she pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the lockers. She needed time to figure things out, but Mikhail wouldn't understand. He didn't want to wait anymore. He wanted her to marry him.

She wanted him, that was all she knew. She wanted him back.

But she was scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of what she was still missing. Scared of how much she craved him.

Just plain scared.

The door opened behind her and she pushed away from the lockers, swiping her cheeks.

“Hector, leave me alone,” she said.

“
It's me,” Erica said softly. “I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it.”

“
Don't apologize,” Gennifer said, turning her back to hide her face.

“
I was an asshole,” Erica said, stepping closer.

“
No, I'm the asshole.” Gennifer plopped down on the wooden bench and put her head in her hands. “I'm acting like a crazy person.” Erica ducked into the bathroom stall in the corner and came back with a wad of toilet paper.

“
Here. Blow your nose.”

“
Thanks,” Gennifer mumbled miserably.

“
So what happened?” Erica asked, leaning against the lockers. “Spill it.” Gennifer shrugged, the words caught in her throat. “Mikhail came to see you?” Erica pushed. Gennifer nodded, sniffling. Erica waited patiently, the silence between them growing. But she didn't leave. She didn't give up. Suddenly, Gennifer was dying to talk.

“
He left again,” Gennifer blurted out, staring down at the old, crumbling linoleum that covered the floor. “He asked me to marry him and I didn't know what to to do. I froze. And now he's gone.”

“
Maybe it wasn't fair for him to ask you out of the blue,” Erica said, softly. “But what was the first thing you thought when he asked?”

“
I don't know,” she shrugged helplessly. “I couldn't think.”

“
So Hector's not the only one with intimacy issues,” Erica said, to herself.

“
What?”

“
When I was having problems with Hector,” Erica said. “You and I, we went out for drinks. He was acting like a total jackass and you told me that he had issues,” Erica said matter-of-factly. “But now I think you have issues, too.”

“
What issues do I have?” Gennifer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“
Anger issues, for one,” Erica said with a small laugh. “And you wouldn't know a good thing if it was staring you in the face. I think you and Hector share that one.” Erica sighed and sat beside Gennifer on the bench. “I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to get mad.”

“
Right about now, I don't know if I can promise that,” Gennifer said, swiping at her runny nose.

“
Alright, I'll take my chances.” Erica bit down her lip and then plowed on. “Back in June, I was new here. I didn't really know you very well. Or Mikhail.” A blush blossomed under her cheeks. “Anyway, one night I came into the locker room and I saw you guys. You and Mikhail.”

“
You saw us?” Gennifer asked, confused.

“
In the shower,” Erica said. To her credit, she kept a straight-face. “At first I was worried that maybe you were in trouble because Mikhail is such a big guy and I wasn't sure... but then I realized you were having a pretty good time, so I left quietly.”

“
Wait,” Gennifer said, glancing toward the shower. She knew exactly the day that Erica was talking about. The memory came to her effortlessly. “We were fucking, weren't we?”

“
Bingo,” Erica said.

“
Oh my God,” Gennifer dropped her head into her hands again. She wondered what Erica had seen... her on her knees, perhaps?

“
Anyway, here's the important part of this embarrassing story,” Erica said. “I saw you afterwards and you looked so good. Radiant even. And then every day after that. You just looked happy.” She reached out and squeezed Gennifer's hand. “He made you happy. Anyone could see that.”

“
He made me feel strong,” Gennifer admitted, to herself as much as to Erica. “He made me feel like I could do anything. He supported me when no one else did. He went out of his way to help me. He stood in my corner. He took care of me.” She took a deep breath, knowing the words were true as soon as they passed her lips. “He loves me. He wants to marry me.”

“
So what's the problem?” Erica said lightly.

“
I don't know,” Gennifer whispered. “I'm scared.”

“
Scared of what?”

“
He's not perfect. I'm not perfect. What if it's a mistake? What if I ruin it? What if I push him away and he stops coming back?”

“
Well.” Erica shrugged. “Don't do that.”

Gennifer broke first, she couldn't help it. The laughter came out of nowhere, quickly overtaking her. She bent over, unable to stop. Erica broke next, shaking her head and trying to suppress a smile. Then she began to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. The tension ebbed out of the room, and all that was left was the companionable comfort of having a friend to talk to. Gennifer wasn't used to the feeling, but she didn't push it away. She embraced it.

“Good advice,” she choked out.

“
That's what I'm here for,” Erica said. The laughter died down and Gennifer blew her nose. “Do you feel better?”

“
I'm just tired,” Gennifer said, her shoulders sagging. “I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of being unhappy.”

“
Well if Mikhail came over last night, I would say you're probably tired for a whole different reason,” Erica said, eyes glittering mischievously.

“
You'd be right about that,” Gennifer said wryly, standing. She balled up the soiled tissue and tossed it in the trashcan. “Amongst other things.”

“
Don't worry. My lips are sealed,” Erica stood and headed for the door. “I'm going to go let Hector know that we didn't kill each other.” Gennifer nodded, then turned back to her.

“
Erica?”

“
Yeah?” Erica turned back, halfway out the door.

“
Thank you,” Gennifer said. “Really.” The redhead smiled wide and then she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her. Gennifer worked her lip with her teeth, thinking about the mess she'd gotten herself into. She was too damn stubborn for her own good, sometimes. Fighting Mikhail was pointless, she realized now. When she fought him, neither of them won. When she was apart from him, nothing made sense. Last night, everything had made sense. When she let him in, the pieces had fallen into place. Crossing her arms over her chest, she wandered back to the showers. She leaned against the cracked tile wall and let the memories wash over her. She didn't know how much she was still missing, but she didn't care. She reveled in the memories she did have. It made her feel good, just remembering how he looked at her. How he touched her. How they laughed and kissed and shared their deepest, darkest secrets.

No one knew her like did.

But now Mikhail was in pain, wallowing in violence, because he thought he had lost her. A lump rose in her throat as she
remembered the bloody and beaten down man that had showed up on her door step. He'd come to her because he couldn't stay away. Even after she rejected him because she was scared, he'd come back. The man was a fighter and always would be. But dammit, so was she. She was no coward. She was tired of being afraid. She'd been through shitty situations in her life and she'd never folded. She'd never given up. She'd been strong enough to love him once. She would be strong again. She would fight for him because he was worth it.

So worth it.

Chapter 25

M
ikhail could hear the restless crowd above him as he sat under the arena in his dressing room, alone. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He had to start getting ready for the fight, but he couldn't stop replaying the morning in Gennifer's apartment over and over in his mind. She'd fucked him and he'd been foolish enough to think that it meant something. Well, it had meant something. She'd fucked him like she loved him. He felt it with every moan and sigh that had escaped her lips. He'd felt it with every orgasm he'd given her. But his stubborn Gennifer wasn't ready to admit it. She'd lashed out at him, because that was her way. He'd been angry, as well. But the more he thought about it, the more he kept coming back to one simple fact.

She hadn't answered him, not really.

When he asked her to marry him, she hadn't said yes but she hadn't said no either.

Next time he asked her, he was going to do it right. He was going to make her say yes. He damn sure wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Dropped his hand to his bag, he rooted around looking for his tape. His hand brushed a small black velvet box and without thinking, he picked it up. He opened the hinged lid and stared down at the ring. It was a gaudy princess cut diamond he'd found on the strip. It was ridiculously big and the gold band was shiny. It was tacky and too expensive.

His
solnyshka
would love it.

At least that's what he told himself.

He closed the box and tossed it back in his bag. As he began to tape his hands, he stared down at the cement floor. He tried to force thoughts of her out of his mind and focus on the fight. But he kept seeing her face, unyielding and cold, as she told him she didn't love him. As she lied to his face. He clenched his fists, wincing at the the pain that still lingered in his broken fingers. He still wasn't completely healed from the fight with Donny. He wasn't completely healed from any of the fights he'd had lately, truth be told.

“
You are almost ready?” Nicholai's gruff voice broke through Mikhail's thoughts and he glanced up at his brother. Nicholai wore an expensive fitted suit that betrayed all of the money that Mikhail had made for him over the past month. Although they'd started on the regional circuit, it hadn't been long before Nicholai had booked him some big name fights. Word travelled fast in boxing circuits that Igor Ivanhof was out of retirement and promoters had come out of the woodwork looking for them. Nicholai's eyes had flashed with dollar signs, but Mikhail couldn't care less who he fought.

He just wanted to win.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding sharply. He zipped up his bag and stood, cracking the bones in his neck. The fight that night was the biggest he'd fought in over a year. He would have thousands of eyes on him, thousands of fans chanting his name. But they didn't matter.

The only person who mattered was one woman, hundreds of miles away.

One woman who he would never forget, although she was doing her best to pretend he didn't exist.

Nicholai produced a bottle of vodka and quickly poured two shots of the spicy liquid. He pressed one cold glass into Mikhail's hand and took the other.

“To health. To brotherhood,” Nicholai toasted, raising his glass.

“
To women,” Mikhail finished, then they both tossed their heads back and drank. The liquid slid down his throat smoothly, the burn just as familiar and comforting as the taste. It tasted like home and it soothed his soul. He let out a slow breath, preparing himself for the fight. Closing his eyes, he murmured a quick prayer to himself. Then he followed his brother out into the chaos.

***

“Kick his ass,” Gennifer murmured to herself, fisting her hands in her lap. Around her, the crowd cheered and chanted for the fighters in the ring, but their bloodthirsty enthusiasm didn't make her feel any better. Mikhail was fighting against one of the forerunners for the national heavyweight title, Bridges Montana. The fight was a very big deal. Montana was young and hungry and he was pushing Mikhail hard. The fight was thrilling, but Gennifer was on the edge of her seat for another reason.

She was in love with the fighter who was getting his face bashed in.

Gennifer made up her mind that night in the locker room at House of Pain. She wanted Mikhail. She loved him. She was going to do whatever she could to convince him to come back to her. As soon as her doctors cleared her for flying, she'd booked a flight to Vegas. She'd spent a small fortune to get tickets to the boxing match, but it was worth it.

Erica squeezed Gennifer's knee when Mikhail took a hit to the face and hit the ropes. Gennifer smiled tightly at her friend, happy that she was there. She needed all the support she could get. Erica sucked her teeth when Mikhail took another bone-crushing hit.

“He's fine,” Gennifer said, defensively. Mikhail dipped and got out of the hold and Gennifer felt her heart flutter in her chest. Erica nodded, turning her gaze back to the ring. Hector sat beside her, leaning forward in his seat. He caught Gennifer's eye and she could see the excitement on his face. He was enjoying the fight.

She wished she could.

Her man was a sight to behold. He had perfect form, and his body moved as smooth and as sure as a dancer's in the ring. He was singularly focused on his opponent and his punches were powerful and relentless. Sweat and blood glistened on his face—she could see his determination even from where she sat.

He was fighting to win. So was she. Butterflies were going to war in her stomach as she watched Mikhail execute a straight-shot/upper cut combination that was a thing of beauty. A cheer went up as Montana fell back. Mikhail didn't relent. He came after him again and again. Gennifer was on her feet before she knew what she was doing. Montana went down on one knee. Then he fell to all fours and he didn't get up again.

The roar in the colosseum was deafening as the referee held up Mikhail's arm in victory. Blood dripped down his chin and he looked anything but happy with his win. Gennifer didn't hesitate.  She ran into the aisle, pushing through the crowd before she missed her chance. She could hear Hector call after her but she ignored him and let the crowd swallow her up. She realized the whole thing was crazy. Mikhail had been so angry with her and now she'd followed him to Las Vegas to... what, exactly? She didn't know what she was going to do. All she knew was that she wanted him.

Gennifer Rainbow Rodriguez wanted Igor Mikhail Ivanhof. Plain and simple.

The fog had finally cleared from her brain and her need for him was the one thing that was painfully clear. She was going to tell him about her epiphany the second she reached him. Then a second later, she would throw her arms around him and tell him that he better never leave her again.

She just hoped he still wanted her. All she had was hope at this point. She ducked and shoved her way between the screaming boxing fans, feeling like she was going in slow motion. She wanted to yell out for him, but she knew he wouldn't hear her. She just wanted to get to him before he disappeared again. And God knew, he wouldn't answer his phone if she called him. She finally reached the rails that barricaded the ring. She skirted around the edge, avoiding the big bodyguards that stood at every entrance. She hopped up on her tiptoes, wishing she'd worn 6-inch heels instead of her Chucks. She could barely see Mikhail hopping down out of the ring, pressing a white towel to his face to sop up the blood, gloves still on.

She stared at him, willing him to look at her. They were so close, but still separated by twenty unimaginably huge feet and dozens of people. She ran her hands along the railing as she followed it, her eyes on him as he moved toward the hallway beneath the stadium seats. He didn't bother putting on his robe and didn't look at anyone as he made his getaway. She knew she had to do something fast or she was going to miss her chance. She climbed up on the railing, hiking her skirt up on her hips so she could hop over. She shimmied through two bodyguards and made a break for it, throwing out her hand as she got closer to him. She almost touched his shoulder before a large meaty arm slung around her waist and hauled her off her feet.

“
Misha!” she called out, her voice muted by the screaming fans around her. The bodyguard swung her around so she couldn't see him anymore, and she ended up behind the rails where she came from. She wanted to scream with frustration, but she didn't fight the big man. Instead, once her feet were on the ground she ran along the rails again. The crowd was moving now, pushing her and sweeping her up, but she kept her focus.

Pressed against the rail, she slowed to a stop, and it was then that the crowd parted. Like he could sense her, his hooded eyes lifted and met hers, slowly. She finally got a good look at him. His lip was busted and bloody. Blood also dripped from his nose to his chest. He had a dangerous look in his eye, like he wasn't completely finished kicking ass. She wondered vaguely if he was still mad at her, but she didn't care.

She wanted to fuss over him. She wanted to yell at him for dropping his hands and not protecting his face while she pressed an icepack to his face. She wanted to tape his nose and clean him up, then she wanted to kiss his lips softly and make it all better. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He swayed on his feet, his eyes not leaving hers. The faces and sounds of the crowd faded to black and white around them and only he was in crystal clear technicolor in front of her. The blood smeared on his face was bright crimson. His satin shorts were intensely blue. His skin glowed golden under the bright lights. He blinked as if he wasn't sure she was real.

Then he lifted his arm and scratched the side of his nose with his glove. It was a slight movement that would go unnoticed to everyone else in the crowd, but it meant the world to her. She felt her whole body react, like a flower opening its petals at dawn. In front of a rabid crowd of boxing fans, she blossomed. She felt a smile stretch across her face even as her breathing quickened and her heartbeat sped up. She was nervous and overjoyed and scared all at the same time. But mostly, she was in love. If she'd had any doubts before, they were gone. She knew she loved him. She knew it with every inch of her body.

She threw her leg back over the railing and he strode toward her, yanking off his gloves and tossing them to the ground. The bodyguards moved aside to let him pass and she launched herself off of the railing into his open arms. He was slick with sweat and blood, but she didn't care. He didn't seem to care either as he lifted her up against his chest. She locked her arms around his neck, his beard scratching her cheek as she hugged him so hard she could scarcely breathe. She didn't know how much time passed, and she didn't care. She hugged him like her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

“
Is this my reward for winning?” he asked finally, breathlessly, his mouth against her ear.

“
You won?” she teased, rearing back to look at him. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

“
Solnyshka
, you are so mean to me,” he said. Then he squeezed her tighter and she let out a whoop of laughter, tossing her head back as she struggled to breathe. He took advantage, pressing wet and scratchy kisses to her neck and chin. She threw her legs around his waist, not caring that her tight skirt was riding up her ass. He dropped his hands to her newly bare skin, hoisting her up.

She kissed him hard on the mouth, forgetting that his lip was busted, as she crossed her ankles behind his back. She didn't care if everyone and their mama was looking; she was so damn happy to be in his arms again. He didn't seem to care either, kissing her like he hadn't just gotten knocked around the ring. She thrust her tongue between his lips, loving the way he tasted. Iron from the blood, spicy mint from the gum he'd chewed before the fight, a sweet hint of vodka, salt from the sweat. He was all hers. Every bit of him.

“Marry me,” she said, the minute she could take a breath. She felt him exhale, his ribs restricting with his lungs. She opened her eyes, and found his grey ones trained on her. His face was blank, his lips a thin line. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead to his cheek.

“
Do not play with me, Gennifer,” he said. She swept her palm over his forehead, wiping away his perspiration. Then she leaned into him, dragging her lips across his cheek.

“
Marry me, Misha,” she repeated, whispering in his ear.

“
Question or demand?” He smiled a slow wolfy smile and Gennifer felt her heart palpitate. God, she loved this man.

“
Demand,” she replied.

“
Very well,” he said with a shrug. A rising tide of happiness hit her, and if she hadn't been in his arms, she might have been knocked on her ass. “Tomorrow,” he continued, decisively, nodding his head.

“
What?!” she yelled.

“
We get married tomorrow.” He turned, carrying her toward the hallway under the stadium seating. She squirmed against him, craning her neck to see where they were going. Fans leaned over the railing over them, screaming incoherently, and lights flashed as they passed the media on the sidelines. It was bizarre, like a dream. So this is what going pro was like, she mused. She resisted the urge to wave, although she wanted to. He pointed to the fans. “You see all this?”