Untamed: Bad Boy Fighter Romance (Fighting for Gisele #2) (6 page)

“Eventually,” Abby said. “I’m in no hurry. There are lots of cute guys in Vegas.” She giggled. “Who wants to be tied down?”

Without preface, Gisele blurted out, “I’m still with Micah.”

“I sure hope so. He’s not a guy you let go.”

“I didn’t want to text anything alarming, but there was an incident when we went away.” Gisele proceeded to tell her friend the sordid details of Micah slugging Vik.

“I would have liked to see that,” Abby said.

“You wouldn’t. It was a mess.”

“Dare I ask—is Vik okay?”

“It certainly didn’t damage his annoying self-assurance,” Gisele said. “Would you believe that after all that, he still had the nerve to ask me to marry him. He had his jaw wired shut, so he wrote it on a chalkboard.”

“Some guys just can’t take a hint.” Abby grinned. “I take it you said no?”

Gisele laughed. “But get this…the charges against Micah were dropped.”

Abby shrugged. “Your brother doesn’t want to appear in court
for any reason
.”

Her friend knew all about how Alek looked out for her, and Gisele didn’t hold back any secrets, if she had any. Abby was the only person she had to talk to, so she knew about the nature of her brother’s business. Her friend wasn’t intimidated, and came by the condo whenever she liked. Of course, even the mob wasn’t in the habit of harming a woman without reason. Abby’s lack of fear was justified.

“My birthday is coming up,” Gisele said.

“I’m not likely to forget that. It’s a big deal. Are you still going to move out?”

“I’ve planned to all along, and I’ve been saving up.”

Abby listened attentively.

“But now that it is so close, I’m kind of nervous,” Gisele said. She waved her glass toward the condo. “This is all I know. I have no experience meeting people, much less running a business.”

Her friend didn’t say anything.

“I’ve been sheltered, Abby.”

“No, your brother’s overprotective way has crippled you. Or you think so, anyway,” Abby said. “I guarantee that you’ll be fine once you get out there. You just don’t know that you can do it, that’s all.”

Gisele envied her friend. Abby had lived on her own since she’d graduated from high school. She hadn’t needed help from anyone, and was able to face the challenges life handed her. It hadn’t been easy breaking into an entertainment career, but she’d persevered.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Gisele said. “And I want to break free…really I do.”

“But?”

Gisele proceeded to confide in her friend, saying things that she didn’t even want to think of in private. But time was running short, and soon she’d have to either carry through with her plans or resign herself to many more years of living under her brother’s rule. She already knew that she couldn’t do that.

“But something’s up…I’m telling you.” Gisele let out a breath. “My brother has been tracking my phone, for one thing.”

“And you’re surprised?”

“Not really. I should have guessed he watched my every move.” Gisele tried to think of how to put this. “It’s odd, but I sense that my birthday is a lot more important to him than he lets on.”

“Because he knows that you’re going to leave?”

Gisele thought about that for a moment. “Yes, partly…I’m sure it’s difficult for him to back away and let me lead my own life.”

“It has to be. After all, you were raised together and he’s been responsible for you since you moved out here.”

“Look at it, though, Abby. Does my brother act like a normal brother would?”

Her friend wrinkled her nose. “Alek is not a normal brother. He’s the son of a Russian mobster. You can’t be normal when your father is Yuri Danilov.”

“And what does that say for me?” Gisele frowned. “You think they are just going to let me walk out of here, and say,
we wish you the best
?”

“It won’t be that easy, will it?”

Gisele gnawed at her lower lip. “I’m worried, but I can’t say exactly why. I’m not really afraid they’ll hurt me.”

“But you think your brother will stop you from leaving?”

“That is a definite possibility,” Gisele said. “Whenever I bring it up, he ignores me. But I can’t figure out
why
he doesn’t want me to go. It’s not like he wouldn’t see me, or I wouldn’t speak to him again.”

“What other reason could there be?”

Gisele felt a little ill. “I know things…some things. And I’ve seen a lot more than I’ve told you. It’s just the mob, the way they operate. Even as much as they’ve tried to shelter me, they can’t completely.”

“So you think you’re a threat? That you might reveal information they don’t want you to?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Gisele said. “But I can’t pinpoint anything. There was no vital information I was privy to. They made sure of that. And my father and brother must know that after all these years I wouldn’t turn against them.”

“Do they trust you?”

Gisele’s heart fell. As much as she’d like to believe they did, she wasn’t sure. “I hope so.”

“Do you trust them?”

Gisele swallowed hard. “I want to.”

Abby looked at her, and for a moment didn’t speak. “I think you have your answer,” she said. “But even if they give you a hard time, you
can
leave.”

Gisele remembered something that made her feel better. “You’re right. And I have the trust my father left for me. I have access to it when I turn twenty-one. He told me about it before he went off to jail.” Her hands trembled. “He said, ‘I’ve taken care of your future, in case something happens to me, sweetheart.’”

“Was your father afraid that something would happen to him?”

“It’s not that, but he was sent to prison, and he didn’t know when he’d be released,” Gisele said. “Then he ended up dying shortly after.” She blinked back tears. “But he loved me. My father loved me enough to ensure my future.”

Abby came over and gave her a hug. “It’s going to work out, you’ll see.” She sat back down on the lounge chair, then she smiled. “It seems to me that we have a big celebration to plan.”

Gisele thought of the party, and felt a little better. “It will be a huge party. I’ve been coordinating the arrangements for a while.” She smiled. “I’m probably making my brother out to be some sort of ogre, when he’s not. He’s excited about my party too. He’s going all out. It will be a celebration to remember.”

Abby grinned. “Okay then, let’s talk about what we’re going to wear.”

The talk of her birthday party distracted Gisele from her worries. She was overly emotional, and that was understandable. She’d waited a long time for her twenty-first birthday, and now it was only a few weeks away.

Chapter 6

It was time for Micah to get back into training, so he had to leave Gisele and head for the gym. To fuel up, he grabbed breakfast on the way. While he ate, he thought about her. That last sizzling kiss she gave him lingered, making him want more.

But Micah needed to focus. To stay competitive required intense training. He could goof off for a few days after a fight, but any more would affect his fitness. Yet knowing that Gisele was available made that more difficult.

It wasn’t that Micah was looking for anything permanent, since he enjoyed his freedom. But he couldn’t seem to get enough of Gisele, and was glad she was back. One taste of her begged more, and he wasn’t a man to exhibit restraint.

Despite the fact that Micah had spent the last two nights with Gisele, he hadn’t had his fill of her luscious femininity. When he thought about the hot interludes, his body responded, tempting him to turn around and go back to the hotel room. But she had gone home.

A sense of loss filled Micah, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while. There hadn’t been any other woman like Gisele, so she was an unexpected surprise. Yet there had been a girl so long ago that had touched his heart. At the time, he’d been very young, just as she had been.

After all these years, Micah remembered. He didn’t think of Tiffany often, but when he did it was always with sadness. That was the past, but until now he hadn’t dreamed of finding a woman that encouraged attachment. He didn’t think of himself as sentimental, but when he’d been very young and innocent he’d been in love.

That depth of connection wasn’t something that Micah sought, but he realized that he had more feelings for Gisele than he’d had with any woman since his youth. He wasn’t looking for involvement, but it might have found him anyway.

In the beginning, Gisele had pushed him away, relegating him to bad-boy status. That was a label he was sure he lived up to. It was just in his nature to test boundaries and defy rules. He didn’t like to be dominated, so he would fight. It had been the most natural thing for him to become a boxer.

It was no wonder that Gisele had resisted getting together with him. She had grown up surrounded by bad men. And although he hadn’t asked directly, he suspected that her dating choices weren’t much better. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Gisele was a risk taker like he was. It was no mystery why they were compatible.

But Gisele rebelled against her circumstances and dreamed of a normal life. Micah couldn’t envision what she meant exactly. He thought of his family with fondness, and saw her point about the type of family she was stuck with. There was a sharp contrast between her brother Alek and one of Micah’s brothers.

Growing up, Micah had the hardest time fitting in with his relatively normal family. He pondered Gisele’s dream of normal, and wondered if she attained it whether she’d really be happy. But it wasn’t for him to say.

For now, Micah wanted to be with her, not just in bed but in life. He liked to see her in the front row at his fights, and to enjoy her company afterwards. He was taken with her, yet still didn’t see a long-term commitment. Micah lived in the thrill of the moment, and right now that was Gisele.

After he paid his tab, Micah left the café and jogged toward the gym. When he entered, it was like being home. One wall was covered with posters of heroes, fighters who had made names for themselves and garnered the admiration of their peers.

Painted in black letters over an archway was:
Think like a Champion. Fight like a Warrior
. The place was outfitted with racks of dumbbells, barbells, punching bags, and more. Micah glanced up at the open ceiling, with the air ducts exposed and the fans whirring.

Micah crossed the rubber-padded flooring and went to the locker room to change. He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, a bit stiff from his last fight. The bruises on his legs had turned darker but seemed to be healing fine. There was a full-length mirror on one wall and he checked out his face. The swelling had gone, so his eye wasn’t puffy. There were no serious injuries to tend to, since he hadn’t needed any stitches…this time.

After changing clothes, Micah went to the massage table to get loosened up. While the masseuse kneaded his back and shoulders, Micah’s mind drifted. He flexed his right hand. It didn’t appear that punching Vik had damaged anything.

The guy had gone down easily enough. It wasn’t like striking an opponent built like a brick wall, whose jaw was as unbending as granite. Vik had offered no resistance, and wasn’t in shape to fight back anyway. The brute’s way of taking down his enemy wouldn’t be face to face, but in the shadows.

That much Micah knew. And the Russians weren’t about to forget what happened. They had their ways of dealing with disagreements, but that didn’t worry Micah. He was just as pissed as they were, and was ready for Alek or Vik if they made a move against him.

It wasn’t their interest in him but their grip on Gisele that was of concern. She’d been a woman alone, at their mercy, but that was no longer the case. Micah had assigned himself to be her protector, a duty he did not take lightly.

If the thugs thought Gisele was an easy target, they needed to think again. Micah had his eye on her, alert to any act or show of retaliation, and he’d be quick to act. Until that moment came, he’d do what he could to figure out what their game was, as surely they had one.

Micah stretched out his stomach so the masseuse could dig into his hamstrings. With his forehead resting on his hands, he tried to relax into the massage, but his muscles tensed. He was ready for a fight, whether in the ring or out. And right now, the issues that loomed outside the ring vied for his attention.

He didn’t like leaving Gisele alone, but he still had fights to train for and win. He hoped she was safe, but couldn’t be entirely sure about that. She’d told him that Alek or Vik wouldn’t physically harm her, but Micah thought that was overly optimistic.

After all, her ex-boyfriend had shoved her with enough force to injure her, an act that had no good justification…not in Micah’s mind. It was too often that abuse happened, followed by the predictable
I’m sorry
. And Micah wasn’t buying it.

It was Alek that he couldn’t figure out. Gisele swore there had been no domestic abuse, thus she had reason to be confident he wouldn’t hurt her. But he was hurting her, emotionally if not physically, and Micah didn’t like it.

With all the big money flowing through the Russian coffers, it didn’t make sense that he had so much attention on Gisele, an adult woman who was weeks away from moving out from under his control.

When strong thumbs dug into Micah’s hamstrings, he grunted, not sure if the massage was helping or just making him sore. “You’re done for now,” the masseuse said. “See me again after training.”

Micah sat up and swung his legs over the side. Then it struck him: that was it. For some reason Alek was increasingly desperate because Gisele planned to leave. That explained the tightened security, tracking her phone, and making damn sure she didn’t get too attached to a man who didn’t cower to his mob tactics.

It was so obvious that Micah wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. Alek didn’t want Gisele to leave, an emotion that didn’t come from a place of brotherly love. There was another reason, and knowing the man’s priorities, it involved greed.

But that answer only raised more questions. Why was Gisele important? What did Alek want from her? Micah couldn’t solve that now, as he had to pour all his energy and focus into training. But he would find out what Alek was up to, and the sooner the better.

When Micah went out to the gym, the coach was staring at a clipboard, probably plotting the torture for the day. It wouldn’t be any sissy-ass circuit training that made his muscles sore without netting any increase in strength.

Harlan Draper wasn’t a coach to mess around with. Either Micah wanted to get in shape to win, even if it nearly killed him, or he didn’t. Since he chose the former, he had to be prepared for what Harlan dished out.

The coach looked up, his expression menacing. “Let me see your hand,” he said, and reached for it. He rubbed it, poking deep into the flesh, searching and testing. “Luke said you punched some guy.” Harlan didn’t look up, just continued bending and flexing Micah’s hand, to be sure. “You know you aren’t supposed to fight outside the ring.”

Harlan knew better than to expect an answer from Micah, or at least the answer he wanted to hear. Appearing satisfied that Micah’s temper hadn’t destroyed his chances, Harlan shoved him down onto a bench and began the process of wrapping his hands.

During the preparation, the coach gave him a pep talk, such as it was. “You’re behind on squats and deadlifts…too many days off. They may not be glamorous, but they make you stronger, and that’s all I care about.”

Harlan might as well have been talking to himself, as Micah knew all that. But he let him continue. “You don’t have eight weeks to train for your next fight, so getting out of shape isn’t an option.”

As he wrapped the tape around Micah’s hands, the coach’s muscles bulged and flexed, the tattoo on his arm looking menacing. In his day, Harlan Draper had been a formidable opponent, with his share of knockouts. Even now, he still fought a bit, and stayed in better shape than some fighters.

“And you need to cut out the unnecessary breaks,” Harlan said. “It’s not smart to go off training completely. You’ve always got to be doing something to keep you in the game.”

Micah thought of the nights of nonstop sex with Gisele, but didn’t think the coach would be impressed with his version of aerobic activity, so kept quiet.

After forty minutes of wrapping and the sermon to go with it, Micah was ready to start. Harlan’s motto was basic foundational training, with no cutesy-pie stuff like running backward on a treadmill. And the coach had informed him from the start that he was opposed to grueling training camps and endless death circuits intended to mimic a fight. “That kind of shit means you show up to a fight absolutely bagged.”

That didn’t mean that Harlan didn’t train him hard, just that he made sure Micah’s adrenals didn’t get cooked in the process, so he’d end up wiped out in the ring. The coach put him through his paces without allowing training to become an ego-driven process.

Harlan drove Micah to perform without destroying him, ultimately making him stronger. “
No macho nonsense
,” Harlan had said more than once. And that was why Micah had hired an experienced trainer.

He didn’t need any newbie that allowed a fighter to think he was bulletproof and would live forever, because that’s just not how it was. It was important to be in top form going into a fight, not smashed, injured, or looking like he was on death’s door.

Micah trusted his coach, and gave training everything he had. The day started with running and sprinting, then jumping rope on a solid wood platform. As promised, squats and deadlifts came next. That was followed by mitt work to improve his punching skills, and sparring with a partner.

Bag work was Micah’s favorite. He punched as fast as he could, ignoring the power that would come later, as his speed developed. It was a good technique, plus it had the added advantage of allowing him to pretend the bag was an opponent, or in this case a Russian mobster. The punching was an unbeatable stress reliever and outlet for aggression.

Micah practiced his footwork in the ring. The coach watched attentively then broke down what he was doing wrong and told him how to fix it. Although agile on his feet and used to dancing around an opponent, Micah needed every advantage. It wasn’t enough to punch hard; his movement in the ring was crucial.

The workout finished up with sparring three rounds. Sweating and breathing hard, Micah climbed through the ropes, and once at floor level, shifted from foot to foot to cool down.

“Same time tomorrow,” Harlan said, starting to walk away. “And watch your diet,” he called over his shoulder.

In the locker room, Micah shed his gear, then unwrapped his hands. The post-training massage was welcome, and he closed his eyes to relax. Limbering the muscles sped recovery, enabling him to recover in time for a similarly challenging workout tomorrow.

A hot shower washed off the sweat and made Micah feel halfway human again. He toweled off and got dressed, then checked his phone. He had to smile; it was a text from his sister Daniela. She shared a couple of pictures of models sporting her makeup creations. Micah was proud of her.

His baby sister had been doing makeup since she could first hold a brush, and had even attempted to make Micah sit still for it. That had been when they were still in preschool. Even then he was too macho to let his sister practice on him, and they still laughed about the childhood incident.

Daniela’s text continued:
Gianni has met someone. Her name is Leah. You need to visit so you can meet her
.

Micah replied:
Cool pictures. Great work. Will see about visiting.

Then he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Daniela was always so enthusiastic about the prospect of Micah visiting, undaunted by his lack of follow-through. He enjoyed hearing from her, although he didn’t tell her much about what he was doing.

It was best not to mention his participation in underground fighting, as she’d only worry. Same for his mother, so he only spoke about his amateur boxing matches. Those were happening less frequently, so Micah was sure he was a bit of a mystery to the family.