The Fight Club - Boxed Set

by Becca Jameson

  Ivan swung around and planted a leg kick high on Leo’s chest. Also a ruse. Ivan could easily kick a man in the head, especially before he was even winded.

  Yenin stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loud. “My grandma can fight better than that. Get a fucking move on.”

  The crowd was also disappointed. Boos could be heard around the room.

  Zane twisted his neck to see the crowd had doubled since he’d first arrived. Still not the level of patrons he would expect at an event like this, but certainly more than earlier.

  What was Yenin’s game?

  And then he heard the betting. He narrowed his gaze on two men in the front as they shouted out their bets to a bookie walking by. Unbelievably fucking enormous bets. Not in the hundreds or even the thousands. This was a high-roller-only event.

  The bookie made his rounds, taking bets from so many people at once, Zane didn’t know how he could keep track.

  Ivan and Leo upped the stakes, fighting hard. Five minutes went by, and then six. Nothing stopped the fight. There was no bell.

  Zane scanned the ring. Unlike a sanctioned fight, the referee seemed to be more of a figurehead. He didn’t stop the fight for any reason. If these guys didn’t take a break soon, they would be exhausted.

  Ivan got Leo in a chokehold and took him to the ground. Leo bucked his hips and propelled himself back to standing before Ivan could get a good hold on him again.

  They circled, their faces harder than when they’d started. Zane leaned closer. He couldn’t believe what he thought he saw, so he wanted to be sure. And there it was again. Leo glanced at Yenin. He turned back to Ivan as though he had just caught the subtle instructions of his coach.

  What the fuck?

  Underground fighters did not take directions from anyone during a match. And Zane found it hard to believe either Ivan or Leo would ever take directions from Anton Yenin.

  Sweat flew everywhere as the men fought. Zane tried to catch every subtle nuance, hoping to figure out what these guys were up to. He didn’t catch anything as blatant as the glance at Yenin again.

  Finally, Leo swung out his leg and took Ivan to the ground. They grappled for several tense moments until Ivan was pinned. Leo pummeled him hard. Just before it seemed Ivan was about to be knocked out, he tapped the floor to end the fight.

  The crowd roared, some in protest, others in jubilee.

  Yenin reached out and grabbed Zane’s arm to get his attention. “You’re up next.”

  Zane frowned at him. “I will see Abby first.”

  “You will. But get your ass in the cage. She’ll be here.”

  Zane rounded to the other side of the cage where the gate was located. He climbed the steps and waited for Leo and Ivan to depart. Both men stared at him hard as they passed. They may have had a message in their glares, but either it was not a message Zane could read, or they had fucked with him for the last several years. Either way, it didn’t change things.

  »»•««

  Abby jerked her face up when the door swung open. She had resigned herself to the fact that she might die inside that room alone and scared.

  She was almost relieved to find out that would not be the case.

  The light from outside the room blinded her, and she squinted up to watch the enormous shadow of a man step in front of her.

  He grabbed her biceps and yanked her to standing, roughly jerking her arms so hard she squealed at the pull of muscles.

  “Shut up, bitch. Stop whimpering.”

  The burly man gripped one arm tighter and pulled her into the hall.

  “Please. What do you want? I think you have the wrong person,” she pleaded.

  The man chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t think so.” He pressed her against the wall face first in the hall. “Hold still so I don’t cut you.”

  She panicked as he twisted her hands higher. She felt the pull on her arms as he parted her hands with a flick of his wrist.

  A second later he held the blade he’d used in front of her face, inches from her nose. “Stop moving.”

  Her eyes widened, and she held her breath.

  His face was fierce, his brows furrowed. “Unless you want to hobble into the arena with your feet connected, you’ll stand still and shut the fuck up.”

  Arena?

  Where the hell was she? A fight? This guy was going to take her to a public place?

  She nodded subtly and bit her lower lip hard enough to hurt.

  The man kneeled in front of her and cut through the rope between her legs with the same speed.

  She winced. That knife had to be sharp to so easily release her restraints. She didn’t want it touching her skin.

  He stood in front of her again, his breath hitting her face as he spoke. The scent of cigarette smoke filled her nose, forcing her to fight against the need to cringe away from his mouth. “You want that knife to cut through the soft skin of your face, bitch?” He cupped her chin roughly, his thumb dragging across her lower lip and up over her cheek.

  “No.” The one word was barely audible. She held her breath, praying it was the right answer.

  “Then I suggest you follow me nicely and keep your mouth closed. Anton won’t hesitate to kill you if you give him any trouble. You’re the most expendable pawn in this game. You hear?”

  Game? What game?

  She nodded again.

  Before she could gather another thought, the enormous brute grabbed her by one wrist and turned around to stomp down the hall, dragging her along behind him.

  She had to jog to keep up, difficult in her low heels. Her legs hurt from the recently removed rope that cut into her ankles. She struggled to get her limbs to obey her commands.

  »»•««

  Zane glanced around as he stepped into the ring. The referee dragged a wide mop around the center, doing a crude job of soaking up at least some of the sweat and blood. Zane had eyes for only two people, Abby and whoever the fuck his opponent would be.

  Finally, he saw her. She walked into the room from behind Yenin, her arm in the firm grip of some Russian asshole Zane didn’t know. She tried to wiggle free. He was hurting her. Her face was tight. She winced. But the asshole held her tighter and leaned in to share some stern words that made her mouth drop open and her eyes widen.

  If Zane got both himself and Abby out of this alive, there was a good chance he would spend the rest of his life hunting these bastards to their early graves.

  “You’ve seen her, Randolf. Now get to work.”

  Abby lifted her face and finally met Zane’s gaze. He tried to communicate everything he felt with her, but there was no way for her to comprehend. Tears stained her cheeks, her mascara having run down to her neck. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying. She wore her black skirt and white tuxedo shirt from work. Her black hose were ripped in several places.

  In addition, her hair was in wild disarray. He wondered how the hell they had taken her and what she had suffered since she’d been kidnapped.

  She held his gaze, her eyes wide with concern and a sparkle of hope.

  Zane just prayed he didn’t let her down.

  “Randolf,” Yenin shouted. “Get to the fucking fighting now, or I’ll stick my tongue down her throat right in front of you.”

  Zane jerked and turned around. What he found behind him took his breath away.

  Dmitry Volikov.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  Dmitry did not meet his gaze. He bounced around on his feet, popping his neck back and forth and stretching his arms in every direction as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

  Zane didn’t move a muscle to loosen up. He’d fought Dmitry before, at least sparring. But this had a dual taste of deception and betrayal. Was it possible that Dmitry was just as scammed here as Zane? Would the man betray him? Dmitry had insisted he did not work for Yenin. So, he either lied or he was in just as much deep shit.

  Zane knew the Russian fighters had to work the underground. There was no way for them to avoid it
. They needed the money. And somehow they were under Yenin’s thumb. But this scene was beyond reason. Zane didn’t know what to make of it.

  A bell sounded, making Zane jerk to attention. He knew from watching the previous fight that was the only bell he would get. He glanced over his shoulder, risking a swing from Dmitry to pinpoint Abby. The asshole holding her arm had manhandled her onto a stool next to Yenin. He now stood back a pace in a stance that said if anyone even thought to fuck with him, they were dead.

  Abby sat on her hands, her gaze on Zane, her lips trembling.

  Zane gave her a nod and turned back around to find Dmitry bouncing toward him. Their gazes met, Zane’s imploring, Dmitry’s giving him nothing. If this guy fucked him over…

  Yenin shouted again, and Dmitry threw a punch that nailed Zane in the cheek.

  Zane stepped back and took a deep breath. He had to pull himself together and get serious. Anything other than a win wasn’t an option. And although Zane may have outweighed Dmitry by a few pounds, he lacked the experience Dmitry had in the underground cage. He had no choice but to rely on strength and skill. Perhaps he would get lucky and outsmart Dmitry. There was about a one in a hundred chance, but it was his only option.

  Zane spun around and kicked Dmitry high, hitting his shoulder.

  Dmitry leaned at the last second, deflecting the majority of the kick. He swung a right hook, but Zane ducked and came back with two quick jabs to Dmitry’s nose.

  Dmitry stepped back two paces, shaking his head to clear his vision. And then he was back on his game. He swung again, narrowly missing Zane.

  Yenin shouted from the side. “Come on, you pussies. Give my fans a show.”

  Zane tried to catch Dmitry’s gaze to ascertain what the fuck was in his mind, but he never got the chance.

  When they spun around, Zane caught a glimpse of Yenin with his arm around Abby, hauling her against his side. She pressed her palms to his chest, but he was way too strong for her. Zane saw nothing but red, which was exactly what Yenin intended.

  Dmitry landed a hard kick to Zane’s side, taking him to a knee. Dmitry wrapped his arm immediately around Zane’s neck in a chokehold and leaned in close, trying to maneuver him to the ground. His teeth were gritted, but Zane heard his voice next to his ear all the same. “Fight, dammit.”

  Zane still didn’t know whose side Dmitry was on, but he heard the words and bucked Dmitry off him. Zane jumped to his feet and bounced back a step to catch his breath. He’d never fought this long without a one-minute break. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he figured they were closing in on ten minutes.

  The volume of the crowd increased, making Zane cringe. They were shouting bets. He wondered who they’d put their money on. Hell, he would put all his money on Dmitry. The man had more experience. However, the man didn’t have quite the incentive Zane had. Dmitry didn’t have a woman currently in the clutches of a deranged Russian mobster.

  That was all Zane needed to catch a second wind. He came after Dmitry with a war cry, head-butting the man in the gut.

  Dmitry flattened against the fence and fought to get out of his position while Zane punched him in the stomach.

  Zane swung out his right leg, taking Dmitry down by knocking him off his feet. They grappled for position on the ground for long moments. Zane’s left eye was swollen from an earlier punch. His vision was hampered. Somehow he managed to get the upper hand and landed on top of Dmitry’s chest, squeezing his neck with both knees, hoping to make Dmitry pass out. He’d never choked anyone long enough to send them into blackness, but he’d also never fought under these circumstances.

  Just before Dmitry’s eyes rolled back in his head, all hell broke lose.

  »»•««

  Detective Jacobson hustled to the side of the building and flattened himself to the wall. He spoke succinctly into his mic. “Everyone in place? Unit one?”

  “Good to go at the rear entrance.”

  “Unit two?”

  “Copy. In position on the west side.”

  “Unit three?”

  “Ditto. East side covered.”

  Jacobson motioned to the SWAT team that comprised his unit and gave his three men the signal to approach the front entrance on three. He said a silent prayer that none of his men got killed in this insanity. His objective was to create such total chaos that Zane and Abby could be rescued. His men had spotted both of them—Zane in the cage fighting Dmitry, Abby sitting on a stool next to Anton Yenin next to the fence.

  “Show time in three,” he announced.

  »»•««

  A shot rang out.

  Zane jerked his gaze upward to find the crowd screaming and turning in every direction.

  Abby.

  Zane swiveled to find her. The stool she’d been on was unoccupied. Yenin was also gone.

  Another shot rang out. The screams around him increased.

  Zane climbed off Dmitry’s chest, heaving for breath, and he kneeled beside the Russian. He glanced down to find Dmitry clutching his throat and gasping for air, but not unconscious. Good. Zane needed to get the fuck out of this ring and find Abby. He didn’t want to have to worry that he’d left a man behind for dead.

  “Go,” Dmitry whispered, his voice raspy. “Don’t fucking let them take her to another location.”

  Zane jumped onto his feet. He ran toward the gate and flung it open. The referee stood next to it inside the cage, his eyes wide with fear. He paid no attention to Zane, which was fitting since he’d paid him no mind during the fight, either.

  Zane scrambled down the stairs, but people blocked him in every direction. There were far more patrons now than had been in attendance for the first fight.

  »»•««

  Abby struggled against Anton’s grasp as he nearly dragged her away from the cage. He held her bicep tight and kept his head low, showing no interest in her well-being but keeping her by his side.

  The room filled with chaos, smoke making it difficult to see. Her legs shook. Fear crawled up her spine as she twisted to look for Zane. She glimpsed him as he exited the cage, and then he was out of sight.

  She needed to free herself from Yenin. That was her first priority. Letting the man take her somewhere else would mean death.

  She jerked harder, surprised when her arm slipped free of his clutches. He turned toward her, but she jumped backward. His arm snaked out, but someone pushed between them, blocking Anton’s attempt to secure her once more.

  Abby pushed farther back into the room. She liked her chances better if she got away from Anton, even though there was gunfire inside the building. At least that foe was unknown.

  Suddenly, another man wrapped his arm around her middle and lifted her off the ground. She screamed. It did no good. The entire metal building was filled with screaming. Her sounds blended in with the others. No one would notice or care that she was now in the clutches of someone else and being hauled against her will.

  Weak and groggy from whatever she’d been drugged with, she hardly had the strength to fight back any longer. She grabbed the man’s dark arm and tried to pry herself loose. He didn’t budge. Like a bulldozer, he pushed people out of the way with clear purpose in mind.

  In a moment she realized they were heading straight for a back exit. She didn’t know whether to be elated or more scared. Few people were heading toward that same door. Most had made their way toward the front of the building.

  The man turned sideways as he pushed through the exit, carefully hugging Abby to his side to keep from ramming her into the frame.

  “Please,” she begged. “Put me down.” She dug her nails into his forearm.

  He didn’t flinch. He also didn’t say a word. As though she weighed nothing and was of no hindrance to him at all, he ran across the back lot. She couldn’t imagine his intentions.

  Suddenly a car swerved in front of them and came to a screeching halt.

  Her new captor yanked the back door open, stuffed Abby inside, and climbed in behind he
r.

  The car took off as she straightened herself and met his gaze. “Who are you?”

  “Name’s Leo. I’m a friend. Hang tight. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

  »»•««

  Zane shoved people out of his way. Many of them grumbled and cussed at him as he met with their resistance. Few were as strong as him, though. He managed to make his way to the side of the room where both he and then Abby had emerged originally.

  The crowd pushed and shoved for the main sliding door to the warehouse.

  A third shot sounded.

  Zane ducked, covering his head, and then he lifted his gaze, trying to figure out where the shots were coming from. The warehouse was too large and the echo intense. The shooter could be anywhere. He scanned wider and found nothing but a sea of men. Few women were in attendance. Abby was no longer among them.

  Someone grabbed his arm and yanked hard.

  Zane twisted to find Ivan had a hold of him. “This way.” He nodded in the opposite direction and took off.

  Zane followed. He had no better alternative. “Where are we going? I have to find Abby.” He had no idea if Ivan gave a fuck about Abby or even Zane, but at this point Zane had no better option, so he followed Ivan even though Ivan didn’t respond. Ivan began to jog. Zane stayed on his heels.

  On the other side of the room, Ivan jerked open a door and the outside air filled the space. They burst outside. Zane’s vision was less hampered without the thick smoke, but the sun was dipping low in the sky, making it difficult to make out anything specific.

  And the crowd was almost as loud and thick outside as they had been inside.

  Ivan kept running. He turned once to grab Zane’s arm again. “Hurry.”

  Zane ran after him, feeling the burn in his lungs. He had nothing on his feet, and he wore only the borrowed shorts and gloves. He wished like hell he could remove the gloves to at least give himself the use of his hands, but there was no way he could pause to take care of the task.

  A car peeled up to them, too close. It stopped inches from Zane’s legs, and Ivan pulled the back door open. “Get in.”

  Zane hesitated. Could he trust Ivan? This evening was full of surprises. He had no way of knowing if anyone was who he thought they were at that point.