Where Darkness Lies

by Bella Jewel

  “I don’t know because I never went into the navigation office.”

  He sighs angrily.

  “What kind of weapons does he have?”

  “Well, you know . . . the usual.”

  He glares at me.

  “Guns, what do you think he has?” I snort. “Toy swords? Jesus, ask a real question.”

  He puts a hand over his face, running it down slowly. I can see he’s clearly trying to gather his control.

  “Bombs? Knives? Swords? Cannons?”

  I raise my brows. “All of the above . . . maybe?”

  “What do you mean, maybe?”

  “I worked as a nurse, Dimitri. I didn’t pay attention to all of that.”

  “Jesus,” he mutters. “Fine, just tell me what you do know.”

  “He is a pirate.”

  “For fuck’s sake!” he bellows. “Stand up.”

  I do as he asks, only because his voice is so icy it actually has me reconsidering my sarcasm.

  “Now, I’ll ask once more. You don’t answer me, I’ll put you on that bed and shackle you for the entire day. If you piss yourself, it won’t be my problem.”

  “You’re a piece of work!”

  He shrugs. “I’ll do what I have to do. Now, I’ll ask one more time. Tell me what you know about Hendrix.”

  I take a deep breath and know I have to word this just right. I don’t want to give too much away.

  “Hendrix is a pirate.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I continue. “He’s the best there is. He knows that ship like the back of his hand and, better yet, he knows the ocean equally well. He’s got the best tracking systems there are and he’s got a good supply of weapons. He knows all the islands back to front and he’s got great contacts at all the docks. That’s all you’ll get from me.”

  Dimitri nods stiffly and turns, walking toward the door.

  “No ‘thank you’? Really?”

  He makes a grumbling sound and steps out, slamming the door behind him.

  Damn, he’s a hard one to break.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jess

  Two days I’ve been at Dimitri’s house, and in that two days I’ve spent most of my time in the room. I’m not complaining, it’s been nice to be able to catch up on some much needed rest—though, while resting, I think a lot about Hendrix and how I can make sure he doesn’t get hurt. It’s hard when we’re on land. If we were on the ocean, I would be able to plan; here, I’ve got nothing.

  Dimitri has taken me into the library once, where he let me read while he worked. This surprised me, but I didn’t argue. I love to read and it gave me a chance to watch him. He’s a solid worker, his voice stays one tone when he’s working, and he doesn’t stray, not even when his pretty maid comes in and offers him beverages. Not only does she offer him beverages, she also adds cleavage to the deal.

  I’m sitting by the window today, just staring out at the beautiful gardens. I’ve read almost all of the readable books in the house, which is a whole of about two, so now I’m spending my time wandering around completely restless. The more I sit, the more I think. I don’t like thinking, it only upsets me. I can’t let my shell crack, because if it does, Dimitri will see what really lies beneath the surface.

  “Mary is gettin’ you some new clothes, I need your size.”

  I hear Dimitri’s voice and turn to see him standing at the door.

  “Maybe I’d prefer not to wear clothes.”

  His face doesn’t even flinch.

  “Really? Not a smile? Nothing? No twitch down below?”

  His brows raise.

  “Jeez Louise, someone needs to loosen up. I’m a size four.”

  His eyes travel down my body, before lifting back to my face. “Figured.”

  “Are you saying you’ve thought about my size?”

  He sighs and shakes his head. “I know women.”

  “Obviously not well enough, because you had to ask me.”

  There go those grinding teeth.

  “We’re done here. I’ll have some clothes brought for you.”

  “Why?” I ask as he’s turning.

  He doesn’t look back at me, but he does say, “Because you’re likely to be with me a while. It’s not going to be easy getting Hendrix where I want him. It gets cold. You can’t live in only what you’re wearing.”

  Then he steps out and leaves me with a slightly hanging mouth.

  He’s looking after me. He might not admit it, but he is.

  I can’t help but smile.

  “Get up.”

  I hear a voice, but my mind is refusing to come around so quickly. It must be midnight, it has to be—I went to bed around ten and I know I haven’t been sleeping long. I groan and I shift my stiff, overly warm body. I’m still wrapped in my cocoon and there is some serious heat trapped inside it.

  “Move it, we have to go.”

  I blink my eyes open, only to see it’s definitely still dark. I shove the blankets off and reach up, rubbing my eyes. Why am I being woken in the middle of the night? At least, I think it’s the middle of the night. For all I know, I might have only been asleep for an hour or thirty minutes.

  “Go?” I croak.

  A hand curls around my upper arm and pulls me up.

  “Everything I do, you’ll do with me. I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust myself. Something has come up, and I have to attend. You need to come with me.”

  “What time is it?” I groan, rubbing my head as Dimitri pulls me from the bed.

  “It’s three a.m.”

  I sigh. Well, at least I slept for longer than I thought.

  “What could be so important at three a.m.?” I ask groggily as he leads me down the hall.

  “None of your business.”

  “Of course it isn’t,” I mutter.

  Dimitri leads me quickly through the house, taking hold of a coat just before we exit the front door. He tosses it at me, and I wrap it around myself. There’s a cool breeze out tonight, and it causes a shiver to rush through my body. I hurry quickly to Dimitri’s SUV and there I see the two guards are waiting.

  Don’t they ever sleep?

  The dark-skinned one opens the door for Dimitri. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready. Let’s go,” Dimitri says sternly, before slipping into the driver’s seat.

  I am shoved into the back and my body protests angrily. I’m tired, my knees are wobbly, and my eyes are drooping. I rest my cheek on the glass window, and my eyes drop closed as the car jerks to life. I very vaguely hear the discussion going on between the men, but I don’t care to figure out what it is they’re talking about.

  I’m exhausted.

  It’s not okay to be dragged out of bed this early.

  We drive for about an hour before coming to a stop at an old warehouse. This particular warehouse is at the end of an alley and is crawling with people. Who in their right mind is awake at this time willingly? Dimitri stops the car and leaps out, bouncing side to side like he’s hyped up full of energy. I stare at him with a look of confusion.

  “You stay by my side,” the guard says. “If you try to run, it won’t end well.”

  “So I hear,” I mumble, following him as he moves inside behind Dimitri.

  Dimitri is let inside as though he’s a VIP. I stare around the massive warehouse as we jostle our way through the people, and I’m quite surprised. It’s in good condition. There are lights on the ceiling that are so bright I have to squint. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and something quite pungent fills the air. People are yelling, throwing cash around, and bellowing names toward something I can’t see.

  Dimitri shoves through the crowd until we reach a rear door. He pushes it open and we step inside. I glance around, taking in the small room. It’s got a row of long benches and lockers. It seems darker in here after standing in the intense lights outside. Dimitri turns and uses his fist to hit one of the lockers. It pops open and he rifles through it, pulling out a couple of bandages.

  “What
is this place?” I ask, still quite fascinated.

  “It’s a fight club,” Dimitri answers, unraveling the bandage and then proceeding to wind it back up over his knuckles.

  “A fight club?” I dare to say, not really wanting to know the answer.

  “People come, they pay, they watch a fight.”

  “And you’re here because . . .”

  He turns to me, his eyes deadly. “Because I’m going to fight.”

  “What?” I gasp, feeling my eyes widen. “Why?”

  “I need information. I’m an exceptional fighter. It works.”

  “How does fighting get you information?”

  He grins, but it’s not pleasant. “I don’t take the money; instead I use the resources of the clubs. The money they gain from me winning my fights is enough for them to tell me what I need to know. It’s a win–win.”

  I stare at him, completely shocked. “You fight for information?”

  He shrugs. “Basically.”

  “Why? It clearly hasn’t worked for you or you would have found Hendrix sooner.”

  His eyes harden. “I never said all the information I get is reliable.”

  “And you’ve been doing this for how long?”

  He shrugs. “Five years.”

  I shake my head. “How does one get into a fight club?”

  “I was angry, I liked to take it out on things that were getting me into trouble. A friend told me about these fight clubs. I came to one, loved it, got out my frustrations, and decided to keep coming back. I had a talent for it. Then I gained contacts and found out that I could not only relieve my anger, but also get any information I needed. It became my way of tracking down Hendrix.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  He grunts. “Sit down, stop asking questions, and behave while I do this.”

  Behave?

  Seriously?

  “What do you think I’ll do,” I mutter. “Fight my way out?”

  He ignores me as he reaches down, lifting his shirt and removing it in one swift movement. My mouth drops open. It takes me a solid three seconds to convince my brain to close it again. Dimitri’s body is huge. No, wait, that just doesn’t seem like the right way to describe it. It’s . . . epic. He’s a mass of muscle and bronze skin. His shoulders are wide, narrowing down to a set of well-defined and sculpted hips and a killer ass. I bite my lip and look away.

  Someone got the good genes.

  “Why are you fighting tonight?” I dare to ask.

  He turns, tightening the bandages on his hands. His abs flex as he breathes, and I have to force my eyes to stay on his face. I glimpse a tattoo on his chest, right over his heart. It’s a pair of bound hands and they almost look 3D. It’s quite . . . disturbing. Especially considering that what those hands are bound with is barbed wire.

  “There’s someone here who knows information about Hendrix. For a good price—say, my winnings—he’ll give me that information. These clubs, they all deal with illegal shit. It’s not legal what they’re doing here, and a lot of the people here have serious links into the . . . shall we say . . . darker side of the world?”

  God.

  “I don’t know what you think you’ll find out about Hendrix. He’s a smart man, and he’s careful,” I growl softly.

  He narrows his eyes and I can see his jaw flexing with anger. “There is a lot I will find out about him. I can find where he docks, what islands are his, where he spends his time, where he gets his ship stock and his weapons, and, best of all, I can find out his locations.”

  Now my jaw tightens. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

  “He deserves everything he gets,” he spits.

  “Why? Because he left you?”

  His entire body jerks. “If it was that simple, do you really think I’d go to so much effort?”

  “Why don’t you blame your mother?” I snap. “She’s the one who put you in this position.”

  He steps forward and his hands are in tight fists by his sides. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about my mother again.”

  “You don’t know half of what you think you do. You still think I’m important to him, but I’m not. You still think you can outsmart him—you can’t.”

  He straightens up and spins on his heel, storming toward the door. Running away—typical.

  Maybe he’s more like Hendrix than he knows.

  The fighting ring is large, square, and fills one full corner of the warehouse. There are hundreds of people hanging around the railings, shoving their bodies through, screaming profanities at the fighters who are waiting to beat each other half to death just for a reward. I guess sometimes desperation is stronger than common sense.

  I turn my gaze to Dimitri. He’s doing that bouncing side-to-side thing again, and his jaw is tight. His eyes are on the floor, and he seems to be prepping himself up. How bad will this fight be? Will he get hurt? Or worse? I turn to see the guards standing behind me, their faces empty. They show so little emotion. Do they care about him at all? Is there any concern for his well-being?

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice suddenly comes across a microphone. “Tonight we have two impressive competitors. First, to my left, we have Panther. He’s tall, strong, but most of all, ladies and gents, he’s angry.”

  The crowd screams and claps, chanting his name over and over.

  My stomach twists.

  Panther is fucking scary.

  “And we have an old favorite. We have all put our money into this man before and won, so put your hands together for Dimitri.”

  The crowd screams louder, and I feel bile rise up in my throat. The other man, Panther, is huge. He’s twice the size of Dimitri, and Dimitri is a massive man. I rub my belly, desperately just wanting to get out of here. I can smell sweat and, scarily, blood. I don’t move my eyes off Dimitri as he steps up into the ring, bumping his fists together.

  “You all know the rules,” the microphone man roars. “Whoever goes down for ten seconds is the loser. You may use any means necessary to bring your opponent down. Weapons are not permitted. Take your places.”

  Any means necessary? I rub my stomach harder. The vile smell of sweat and blood burns my nose, and I try to close my eyes and inhale to calm myself, but it seems as though it’s really pointless. Nothing is making me feel better right now. I need fresh air, I need to get outside. I lift my hand and rub my forehead, feeling a fine layer of sweat there. It’s a mix of the fighting thing and the mass crowds. I’m not used to crowds.

  “ ’Scuse me, young lady,” an old, husky voice says just as a hand lands on my hip. I flinch. “You’re in my way. Perhaps you’d like to go on my shoulders?”

  I turn and see a vile, old, disgusting man with a row of rotting teeth. My stomach threatens to erupt. His hand on my hip tightens and I try to tug away, but there’s no room to move now that people are closing in around me.

  “Hands off,” a dark voice booms, and I am thankful to hear Dimitri’s guard.

  “Just havin’ some fun,” the old man almost whines.

  “Take it elsewhere.”

  I’m exceptionally grateful in that moment for the big, overly bulky guys behind me. I take a small step back into them, needing to know they’re a little closer. I turn my eyes back to Dimitri and see his gaze is on me. His expression is stern and intense. He looks up at his guards, nods, and then he turns his attention back to the fight.

  “Are you ready?” the man yells.

  The crowd screams and roars, waving money around and chanting both men’s names.

  “Are you set?”

  The screaming gets louder. I press my hands over my ears.

  “It’s time to fight!”

  The crowd starts stomping their feet yelling, “Fight, fight, fight, fight!”

  I watch as Panther leaps toward Dimitri the moment they’re given the go-ahead, catching him off guard. His fist raises and comes crashing down over Dimitri’s jaw. I watch as his head swings to the side and blood splatters out. I press my hand over
my mouth, making a strangled sound even though no one can hear it through the deafening noise. God, they’re brutal.

  Dimitri pulls himself together, and manages to duck the next swing by Panther. He lunges forward, driving his shoulder into Panther’s pelvis, sending him hurling backwards. Panther stumbles on his feet for a second, but is soon launching back toward Dimitri, who has blood pouring down his chin.

  Watching Dimitri like this, I can see a certain level of wild unleashed in his depths. He’s wound up, but more than that, he’s angry. His jaw is tight, he’s panting, and, if looks could kill, the entire room would be dead. He clenches his fists, and when Panther lunges at him again, he drives his fist upwards, smashing it into Panther’s nose so hard his skin splits.

  I turn my head away. I’ve seen plenty of blood, but I don’t like it.

  I hear screaming, I hear booing, and I hear people suddenly chant, “Dimitri, Dimitri.” I dare to turn my head again to see Dimitri lift his foot and kick Panther so hard in the side of the face, the man does a full 360 before landing on the ground with a thump. Dimitri reminds me of an uncaged animal; he throws his body onto Panther and he presses his forearm to his throat.

  “One!” the crowd bellows.

  My mouth drops open as Dimitri grins down at the man struggling for air on the ground.

  “Two!”

  God, he’s like a crazed beast.

  “Three!”

  I can’t look.

  “Four.”

  I have to look.

  “Five.”

  Panther is going slightly blue.

  “Six.”

  He’s gasping for air, and Dimitri isn’t budging. He’s not even bothered that a man is basically dying under his hands.

  “Seven.”

  God, he’s going to kill him. I’m sure of it. I rub my stomach furiously again.

  “Eight.”

  Panther is kicking like a sprayed cockroach. His body is flailing around under Dimitri’s, but even his big form isn’t enough to shove Dimitri off. He’s too clever. He’s picked the perfect way to hold him down, using his arm to lock him into place and cut his air supply off enough that his struggles are pointless.

  “Nine!”