Hold You Close

by Jessica Linden

  “He won’t find out.” Tony faked a confidence he didn’t feel. He didn’t know exactly what Barkov’s powers were, how widely connected he was. Still, this was their best option.

  Ginny didn’t look convinced, instead wearing fear on her face.

  “I think you should stay somewhere else, too,” Ginny said. “If Fedor finds out you’ve been helping me . . .”

  Tony almost hoped he would. He was done being on the defensive. Barkov—and his father—were going down. It was time to take action.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Ginny put a hand on his arm. “No, Tony. I can see what you’re thinking. You have to stay away from Fedor. He’s dangerous.”

  So am I. But she wouldn’t know that. No one from this part of his life knew that. He projected the perfect appearance of the posh, privileged elite. It was what he’d been born to do.

  Most of his life, the guise had felt like a noose around his neck.

  Tony gripped the steering wheel tighter and ground his teeth. Instead of taking the right that would take him to Kat’s apartment, he took a left. It was time to show Ginny the secret part of his life.

  * * *

  Ginny noted the deteriorated industrial buildings and frowned. “Where are we going?” She wasn’t entirely familiar with the south side of town, but she knew there were no residential buildings near here. The city had once had a booming industrial district, but over the years as business evolved and more and more labor was outsourced, the south side of the city had fallen deeper into poverty. Roads were filled with potholes, formerly robust businesses were boarded up, and buildings fell into disrepair.

  It was then that people like Barkov rose to power.

  “I want to show you something.” Tony kept his eyes on the road and his jaw worked. His shoulders were tense.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. The street was empty. They were almost there with no sign of Fedor or his men. Tony should be more relaxed. So why did he seem so uneasy?

  Whatever he wanted to show her must be important. He wouldn’t have taken the unplanned detour otherwise.

  She wanted to reach over and squeeze his hand, but he had both hands on the steering wheel, gripping the smooth leather.

  She couldn’t even guess what he’d need to show her in the rundown industrial district. They took a left and were surrounded by even more shabby warehouses, most of which looked unoccupied. He pulled into a parking lot riddled with potholes that had begun growing chunks of grass and cut the engine but he didn’t move to get out of the car. He sat for a moment with his hands still on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

  She put a hand on his arm. “Tony, what’s going on?” She trusted him, but this was strange. And he was acting strange. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge.

  Her thought from when she had packed her stuff came back to her—was the bottom about to fall out beneath her again? Tony had been her safety anchor, the only thing keeping her from falling off the ledge.

  “You’ll see,” he said. He got out of the car and looked around one more time before circling around to open her door. He ushered her toward a steel door pockmarked with rust spots and pulled it open.

  They entered a narrow hallway. Dim light streamed in though grime-covered windows, providing poor visibility, but she it was just light enough to illuminate the filth—dirt caked on the walls and scuffed floors with missing tiles. Tony flipped a light switch, but nothing happened.

  “Damn,” he said. “I’ll be right back. I have a flashlight in the car.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Ginny said quickly. She didn’t want to be left alone in this place that gave her the creeps, especially since Tony hadn’t explained anything yet. Hopefully once she understood why they were there, her nerves would settle.

  They retreated to door and Ginny waited just inside while Tony ran out to the car to retrieve a flashlight.

  When he returned, he took her hand and led her down the hallway. He pushed open a set of double doors and pulled her through to the complete darkness and into the odd smell of must mixed with bleach. A scratching noise came from somewhere to her left and she let out a little yelp, clutching his arm. Probably just a rat, though that realization didn’t make her feel any better.

  Tony clicked on the flashlight. “I wish the power was on so you could really see it.”

  The beam of light illuminated some sort of arena. They took a few steps closer. It was some kind of a boxing ring, only this one had a chain link cage built around it. She’d seen them before on TV, occupied by two men beating the crap out of each other while spectators cheered.

  But that still didn’t explain why he would bring her to this decrepit place.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “What is this place and why are we here?”

  “I used to fight here until a few months ago.” His voice was quiet and forlorn. Distant, like he was somewhere in the past and not standing here with her.

  She tried to picture him and at first the image procured in her mind was of the Tony from the charity benefits—polished and debonair in his tux. But that didn’t work here. Neither did his daily business attire.

  “Why?” she asked. It didn’t make any sense. His reputation would take an irreparable hit if anyone found out—and in the north side, reputations were everything. Why would he risk so much to fight in a shady underground arena?

  “After all the shit with Veronica, I was pretty messed up. Then when Marco left and I was forced to take a place at Adamo, I couldn’t take it. I threatened to boil over.” He paused, shining the light around. “I needed an outlet. This was it.”

  “You’re a boxer?” Though Ginny hadn’t expected this, it wasn’t all that surprising. Tony’s physique was that of a lithe fighter and his hands looked like they’d done some damage. And he certainly possessed a raw intensity that was normally just beneath the surface.

  “MMA fighter.”

  She tried to remember the few seconds she’d seen on TV before she’d flipped the channel—the no holds barred, ruthless style of fighting. Tony had done that?

  Ginny looked over at him and shadows were cast over the hard lines of his face. His gaze was dark and calculating, his posture strong, yet defensive. Suddenly, she could clearly picture him in that ring.

  Sweat streaking down his body from the exertion.

  The thrill of the fight in his eyes.

  A take-no-prisoners expression.

  The image in her mind was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

  “I didn’t realize,” she said.

  “No one knows. It’s technically illegal.” He paused. “There’s no technical about it—it was illegal. I didn’t make bets, though. I just fought. It was either deal with my aggression here or implode. I couldn’t do that to my family.”

  He shone the flashlight around the empty arena and she tried to see it through his eyes. Rows of metal bleachers for spectators lined the arena. High above, she could barely make out spotlights and a metal catwalk. A path led down to the ring, which was probably how the fighters made their way in from the locker room. Everything was coated in dust and grime from lack of use.

  “This place looks abandoned,” she commented. “What happened?”

  Tony walked up to the cage and gripped the chain link with one hand, gazing in and remembering what exactly, Ginny didn’t know.

  “X owns this building. He was the promoter for the group I was in. Knox was X’s top guy. That’s how I know him.”

  “Until he left,” Ginny said, remembering the months old gossip. “And that’s when he met Natalie.” Crazy rumors about the beginning of Natalie’s relationship with Knox abounded, but she’d assumed they were just that—rumors. She didn’t know Natalie well enough to ask about the truth. Now, though, she was beginning to see the rumors might not just be rumors. There was probably more truth than lie.

  And all this time Tony had been a part of it. A t
iny voice inside her head begged a question—if he was hiding this, what else might he be hiding?

  But more importantly, did it matter? Everyone had their secrets, including her. She was in no position to judge.

  “Yeah. That’s when the ring fell apart.” Tony turned to face her. “Here I was a nobody. I wasn’t Tony Adamo, reluctant heir to Adamo Enterprises. If I wanted respect I had to fight for it. It was some crazy, stupid shit I got into. But at the time I needed it.”

  Ginny wondered if he still did. His fists were clenched and the darkness in his eyes showed he was on edge, fighting demons she hadn’t even known existed.

  His eyes also pleaded for understanding, and she desperately wanted to give him what he needed, but she wasn’t sure she could.

  * * *

  Tony looked at Ginny, trying to discern her reaction. He wanted her in his life but for that to be possible, she needed to understand this side of him, accept this side of him.

  It was his way of coping with a life he felt he had no control over.

  He loved the fight—the high of victory, the bitter sting of defeat. Once he was in that ring, nothing mattered except his own strength and skill—not where he came from, not his name, nothing. It was just him and his opponent.

  The people he’d encountered during his time there were real. Many of them used the meager prize money to put food on the table. They weren’t caught up in the phony parts of life that occupied so much of his time.

  He knew he was fortunate to come from money, but that didn’t mean he had to like the shit that came along with it.

  He was grateful for his privileged life—his mother and grandparents had made sure he knew what an advantaged life he was born into—but he’d always felt like something was missing. Healthy, unbiased competition. He wanted to work for his achievements, not have them handed to him.

  But try explaining that to anyone and he came off like a spoiled rich boy.

  Nerves filled him as he waited for Ginny to say something. So much was riding on the words that came next.

  “I don’t understand completely, but I want to,” Ginny said slowly, her eyes fixed on his.

  It was an honest answer, and he believed her. Relief deluged his nerves, washing them away.

  He crossed to her and brought her hand to his lips. “That’s all I can ask.”

  Chapter 20

  Ginny peered at the woman standing in the doorway. She was gorgeous, with long, dark flowing hair, incredible eyelashes, and full lips. However, her cocoa-colored eyes were guarded. Not unfriendly exactly, but definitely on alert. They sized her up, and Ginny suddenly felt self-conscious in her jeans, T-shirt, and makeup-free face. She wished she’d at least tried to conceal what was left of the black eyes.

  “I’m Ginny.” She held her hand out for the other woman to take.

  Kat nodded and took the hand Ginny offered. “Come in.”

  Tony and Ginny entered a small living room. Between Ginny’s suitcase, the three of them, and the small amount of furniture already in the room, it felt crowded. Homey, but crowded. If the rest of the apartment was as small as the living room, the entire thing could fit in Ginny’s childhood bedroom.

  “Thank you for agreeing to help me,” Ginny said.

  “It’s not much.” Kat gestured to her surroundings, her eyes holding an edge of challenge. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

  “This is great,” Ginny reassured her. She didn’t want the other woman to think she was judging her. There was often strife between the residents of the north and south sides of the city. The north siders tended to look down on the south siders, who then resented the north siders because of that. It was silly but one of the major reasons Natalie’s relationship with Knox had created such a scandal. Natalie hadn’t seemed to care, though, essentially giving high society the metaphorical middle finger.

  Ginny liked her so much for that.

  “Where should I put her suitcase?” Tony chimed in.

  “Um, over in the corner is good,” Kat said. “It’ll be out of the way there.”

  “I appreciate this, Kat.” Tony stowed Ginny’s things, then pulled Ginny aside. “I need to go.”

  “You’re leaving me?” Her voice came out in a high-pitched shrieky tone—not at all what she’d intended—but dammit, she hadn’t expected he would drop her off like a piece of cargo and then haul ass out of here.

  “I need to look into some things.” He didn’t elaborate, probably because Kat was in earshot, but she figured whatever he needed to do was related to this mess. “I’m sorry.” He brushed a piece of hair off her cheek. “I wish I could stay.”

  Ginny believed him. She sighed. She wasn’t being fair. “It’s okay. I’m being childish.”

  “No, you’re not. I would take you with me, but it’s not safe.”

  Ginny opened her mouth, wanting to tell him it wasn’t safe for him, either. No matter how much of a skilled fighter Tony was, Fedor didn’t play fair. But she stayed quiet because it would never be safe for either of them until they were free from Fedor. One of them had to do something to try to clear them of this mess. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t do more, but her hands were tied. She didn’t have the resources Tony did and besides that, Fedor had his men looking for her.

  But were they looking for Tony now, too? Her gut churned.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered. Fear had been a constant since her ordeal with Fedor in the car, but now that Tony was exposed, her fear had tripled.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, wanting to convey the agony she felt letting him go. He returned her passion with his own, holding her body close against his.

  Heat consumed her—heat that represented her hope for the future and the desperation of the present. She wanted to lose herself in Tony, even if it was just for this moment.

  “Ahem.”

  Ginny reluctantly pulled away from Tony, having forgotten they had an audience. In the past, she would have been embarrassed by her brazen show of affection, but now she didn’t care. Tony was too important, their situation too dire.

  “Kat, thanks again,” Tony said. He pulled Ginny in for one last breathtaking kiss. Then he was gone.

  Ginny stared at the closed door, anguish lapping at her insides.

  “He’ll be okay,” Kat said, sitting on the sofa. “He’s one kick-ass fighter.”

  Ginny sat on the other end of the sofa. “You’ve seen him fight?” Ginny felt oddly betrayed that Kat had not only already known about this secret part of his life but had also seen it in action. It was stupid because she hadn’t been part of Tony’s life then, but jealousy burned in her gut.

  “Sort of. Not any of his official fights, but I’ve been around when he and Knox spar. And trust me—if he can give Knox a run for his money, then he can hold his own against anyone.”

  Ginny considered what she knew of Knox. While Tony had an outward polished appearance, Knox looked every bit the fighter, even at society events.

  “I hope so,” Ginny said, wishing she had the confidence Kat did. It wasn’t that she doubted Tony—it was that she knew how dangerous Fedor was.

  “How did you ever get tangled up with Barkov anyway?” Kat asked.

  Ginny sighed. “It’s a long story.” She really didn’t want to get into it, but she figured she owed an explanation to the woman who was sticking her neck out to help her. So she told her everything except exactly what Fedor was holding over Veronica’s head. That part needed to stay under wraps as long as possible.

  “I’m glad you finally wised up,” Kat said. The comment was nonjudgmental, and Ginny could tell by the look in Kat’s eyes that she understood. Whatever had happened in her life made her understand how Ginny could find herself at the mercy of a powerful but ruthless man.

  “I only wish I’d done it sooner, so I wouldn’t be in such a mess right now,” Ginny replied.

  “Barkov is bad news. I knew someone who dated him.” Kat
paused. “‘Dated’ is probably too strong of a term. Let’s just say they had an arrangement.”

  Ginny grimaced. She’d wondered if Fedor had a mistress—or mistresses—and here was her answer.

  “Her face looked a lot worse than yours by the time she wised up,” Kat said.

  “I take it she didn’t go to the police.”

  Kat let out a laugh. “Are you kidding? Barkov is untouchable. Nothing sticks to him. And anyway, if she had gone to the cops, she probably wouldn’t be around anymore. No one’s ever lived long enough to testify. She kept a low profile for a while, but eventually she moved. She couldn’t handle looking over her shoulder all the time.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Ginny said. “That sounds awful.”

  It also sounded like her future life. Fedor wasn’t going to let her go—the fact that he had men stationed outside her family and friends’ homes was a testament to that.

  How would she ever be free of him?

  * * *

  The parking lot at Adamo was empty except for the BMW parked in the space reserved for the CEO. Perfect. Tony parked next to it.

  The urge to confront his father ate at him, but he was not optimistic about the outcome of that conversation. One way or another, though, he was going to take care of the B37 problem. And if his father went down with the drug, then so be it. Tony wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

  He circled around to the rear of the building, looking for the outdoor NID box. There—barely noticeable behind some overgrown bushes. Shit, it looked like hell back here. Granted, no one generally came back here, but still, he’d ask Ingrid to hire some landscapers to deal with this mess.

  Using a screwdriver, he pried open the box, then yanked the cables out. That ought to do it.

  He returned to the front of the building, tossing the screwdriver in his car before entering. He climbed the stairs to his father’s office.

  He knocked on the door and waited. After a moment, his father flung open the door. His eyebrows were pinched together and his mouth was twisted.

  “What are you doing here?” He didn’t bother asking his son to come in, just stood in the doorway blocking the entrance.