The Fight Club - Boxed Set

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The Fight Club - Boxed Set Page 125

by Becca Jameson


  Ivan grabbed the hood of the car and swung inside. He reached back out and wrapped his palm around Zane’s wrist above the glove. “Get the fuck in the car, Zane. We need to get out of here.”

  Zane scrambled in behind Ivan, and the car peeled away, the door slamming shut as the driver hit the gas. “Where’re we going?” Zane shouted. His ears were ringing and he could hardly hear himself over the pressure in his head. “I can’t leave. I need to find Abby.” He twisted toward Ivan. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you have to let me out. I need to go back.” The driver made a sharp turn, slamming Zane into Ivan’s side.

  Ivan twisted to look out the back window. “Duck!” he screamed as he palmed the top of Zane’s head and pulled him down.

  The rear window shattered as a shot flew into the car.

  Zane’s breath caught in his lungs. He wasn’t going to live through this, and there was no way Abby would survive. He nearly choked on this knowledge.

  The driver careened to the right and then the left several times. A quick glance out the windshield told Zane the driver was trying to avoid hitting anyone. People were running in every direction. Many of them had a head start, having escaped the warehouse long before Zane.

  Zane slouched down in the seat in case another bullet passed through.

  Ivan reached under the seat and pulled out a.38. “You know how to use this?” he asked, handing it to Zane.

  Zane nodded as the gun landed in his lap, and he worked his gloves free with his teeth. It was the first real indication he had that Ivan was on his side.

  Ivan reached under the seat again and extracted another gun.

  The car lurched to a stop, slamming both Zane and Ivan forward. The front door opened and Dmitry jumped in, shocking Zane. He slammed his hand on the dash. “Go. Fucking drive, man. Before we all get killed.”

  The driver shot off again. This time he swung wide to the right, and Zane had the chance to brace himself before landing on Ivan’s lap.

  “You have another one of those?” Dmitry asked, his neck twisted to the back to face Ivan.

  “No.” Ivan turned around and braced himself to shoot into the night through the back of the car. There was nothing left of the glass. It was in pieces all over the seat.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Zane asked.

  No one responded. They were all busy. The driver had eyes only for the road ahead. Ivan peered intently into the dusk, watching for whatever the fuck he thought he might need to shoot at. And Dmitry was on the phone.

  He was on the goddamn phone for fuck’s sake. He spoke in Russian, his voice carrying over the engine. Zane had no idea what he said, but suddenly he ended the call and turned to the back seat. He met Zane’s gaze. “She’s safe.”

  Zane exhaled on those words of hope. He had no way of knowing if Dmitry was telling the truth, but he had nothing else to trust, so he chose to catch his breath and wait.

  Two minutes later, the car suddenly turned a sharp right, pulling off the main road onto another gravel drive. The ride was bumpy at the speed the driver kept up.

  Zane was unprepared when they came to a sudden stop, the driver slamming on the breaks and squealing in a half circle until they were finally at rest.

  Ivan reached across Zane and opened the door. He shoved it hard. “Go.” He pointed to another car parked several yards away. “Hurry,” he shouted. “We don’t have all fucking night.”

  Zane jumped out. This was ludicrous. He didn’t know who to trust. He was completely at the mercy of these underground fighters, whom he’d always considered more of the good-guy class than the mob scene. He hoped his gut was right because he was now careening toward another vehicle at a full run with no certainty he wouldn’t be left standing between the two of them left to die.

  The back door opened and someone reached out to grab his hand again. Zane nearly fell into the car as it sped away almost before he was fully inside.

  A whimper he knew well drew his attention at the same time Abby leaped across the seat and landed on him. She planted both hands on his face and held it, scanning as though ensuring he was actually there and alive.

  Zane wasn’t so sure himself at that point.

  This car was bigger, a limo. The man who’d pulled him inside sat across from them.

  The driver hit the gas even harder than the first crazy driver, but this time no one shot at them and the car moved in a more direct path to wherever.

  Abby gripped his face harder, crying so loud, Zane couldn’t hear anything the other man said.

  Zane set his hands on her back and pulled her close to his chest, taking his first real breath in forever. She was right there, on his lap, alive. He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them to find Leo across from him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Abby was a mess. She’d never been so scared in her life. She wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t still suffer from a stroke. And they weren’t out of danger yet. The car was moving fast, weaving back and forth with the speed.

  She squeezed Zane too hard. It had to hurt. And she didn’t care.

  “Baby.” He soothed her back, but she wasn’t consolable. Far from it. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

  She lifted her face and stared at him again, making sure her eyes hadn’t deceived her. She didn’t care that she straddled his lap and her skirt rose up her hips. She only cared about touching him everywhere, ensuring herself he was alive and unharmed.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked. He pulled her away from him a few inches and scanned down her front.

  “No.” She shook her head. “You are.” She touched his cheek below his swollen eye, wincing. He needed a doctor.

  “I’m fine.” He smoothed his hands up her back until he threaded them into her hair and pull the long waves away from her face. His thumbs hit her cheeks, wiping away the tears. They didn’t stop flowing. She knew she was hysterical. She couldn’t stop it. She kept staring at him, glancing up and down, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her.

  “Baby, you’re okay.” He didn’t sound convincing.

  She knew they were anything but okay. All she cared about was that she had a grip on Zane.

  A phone rang. The man behind her who said his name was Leo answered. “Yes… Yes… Two minutes…” That was it.

  Abby held her breath again. Two minutes until what?

  Zane grabbed her face tighter. “Abby, look at me.”

  She met his gaze, finding it difficult to concentrate on any one particular spot.

  “Abby, you’re okay,” he repeated, though she knew otherwise. “Breathe, baby.”

  She inhaled deeply and then let it out.

  The car came to a sudden halt. Zane grabbed her back firmly so she wouldn’t fall off his lap.

  She twisted toward the door as it was yanked open from outside. The man who leaned in made the breath whoosh from her lungs.

  “About time you guys got here.” Rider grinned and reached for Abby, helping her off Zane’s lap and out of the limo.

  She didn’t release her grip on Zane’s arm, and he followed her out of the car. He dipped his head back inside to say something to Leo, and then the car sped away.

  Abby lifted her gaze to find them once again on an abandoned road. It was dark, but this time she was with people she knew she could trust. Rider eased her toward a police cruiser.

  Zane wrapped his arm around her and helped her into the backseat before sliding in next to her. She started to shake and then giant sobs that wouldn’t stop took over her frame.

  Zane belted her into the car and then pulled her head against his chest. It almost seemed absurd to take that small step to protect themselves after what they’d been through. Zane tipped her head back. “Baby, I’m here,” he repeated. “You’re safe now.”

  The cruiser sped away, not nearly as erratically as the previous car she’d been in.

  Rider sat in the front passenger seat, twisting around to face them. Another officer drove.


  Abby did her best to stop sobbing. She knew there were a thousand things that needed to be said.

  “How did you find us?” Zane began.

  “Mikhail called me,” Rider said. “What the fuck happened?”

  Abby could feel her chest pounding hard as she held on to Zane’s bare chest and listened to what he knew. She tried to focus. Zane explained how he’d come to pick her up from work and found some Russian guy threatening him instead. Next he moved on to everything she’d witnessed in the warehouse.

  Zane lifted her hair off her shoulders and furrowed his brow as he stared at her. “Rest. You can tell us your end when we get to the station.”

  When they finally pulled up to the police station, Abby was relatively calm. At least she managed to walk inside of her own accord, and she had on clothes. Zane wore nothing but boxing shorts and he was a complete mess. He paid no attention to his own plight though, clearly only caring about her as he held her hand and angled her to follow Rider.

  A hush fell over everyone as they walked through the station, several officers lifting their gazes to stare.

  Rider led them to a locker room. No one was inside.

  Zane lifted Abby onto the counter at a row of sinks and quickly pulled off a row of paper towels from the dispenser to soak with warm water. He wiped her cheeks while she stared at him.

  It took her a minute to process what was happening. Finally she grabbed the wad of wet towels from his hand. “Zane, I’m fine. It’s just makeup.” She glanced in the mirror and winced. She did look pretty bad, but at least she wasn’t injured. She turned back to face Zane.

  He stopped moving, his shoulders slumping and his chest heaving while he came down from an adrenaline high right in front of her. He held her gaze and took the last strides to plaster himself against the counter between her legs, tugging her head against his slick chest.

  She didn’t give a fuck about sweat or blood. All she cared about was listening to his heart beating under her ear.

  Rider cleared his throat behind them. “I’ll give you two a minute. I set some clothes behind you.”

  Abby heard him leave the room, the door shutting with a snick. She would have resumed crying if there had been tears left to fall.

  Finally, Zane lifted his face. “I was so fucking petrified.”

  “I know.” She held his cheeks in her palms.

  “If anything had happened to you…”

  “It didn’t.”

  “Did that jackass hurt you?”

  “No. Not like you’re thinking.” She reached up his face to touch his eye. “You need to have this looked at.”

  “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine. I just need a shower. Most of the blood will wash away. It’s not all mine.” He grinned.

  Abby glanced past him toward the row of open showers across the room. “Go. I’m fine.”

  Zane followed her gaze. “I’m not leaving you to shower right now.”

  “Of course you’re not. I’m gonna stand right next to you. But you need to wash away all that blood so I can stop freaking out.”

  Zane stepped back and Abby hopped down from the counter. She took his hand and pulled him along. When she got to the edge of the tiled row of showers, she leaned against the wall. “Go to it.” She pointed inside.

  Zane smirked. “You’re gonna watch.”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure for a man.”

  “More than fighting your friend in a fake set up to win back your woman?”

  “Well, put that way, no.” He turned on the water and shrugged out of his shorts.

  Abby watched as he stepped under the steaming spray. His tight ass made her swallow a lump in her throat. He was so fucking sexy. The muscles of his back rippled as he reached for the soap dispenser and squirted some in his palm. He looked immediately better from just rinsing.

  Her heart rate slowed as she realized he was right. Most of the blood had not been his. When he turned around, she sucked in a breath. His front was so much more magnificent, all abs and pecs and cock. God, she was lucky. She leaned her head against the wall and watched the show. As long as she didn’t stare too hard at his swollen eye, she could convince herself this never happened. Sort of.

  When Zane shut off the water, she handed him a towel from the shelf against the wall. He rubbed it over his head and then wrapped it around his body. Immediately he moved back into her space, pinning her to the wall with his arms around her and his forehead against hers. “Better?”

  “Immensely. You almost look human.”

  “So, sweaty bloody guys aren’t your thing?”

  “Not so much.” She smiled, wanting to kiss him, but afraid to hurt his obviously cracked lip.

  He closed the last few inches himself and took her mouth. His kiss was gentle and sweet, reminding her they were both okay. They lived, and they would survive. Now, she just wanted to make their statements to the police and get the hell back to his house. She felt gross herself, but she didn’t want to shower here at the precinct.

  Zane barely stopped touching her while they made their way over to the bench by the sinks. He managed to shrug into the sweats and T-shirt Rider left him while still strumming a thumb up her arm or across her face. When he sat to put on the pair of tennis shoes, he tugged her down next to him.

  Before they left the room, Zane pulled her close again. “I’m never going to be able to let you out of my sight again. You realize that, right?”

  “I feel the same about you, but I’m thinking it will be tough to do our jobs if we stay pinned together.”

  “Maybe they need an EMT at the casino, one who guards the blackjack tables.”

  She giggled. “Maybe.”

  When they finally stepped back into the main section of the police station, Abby was shocked to see her boss and Lauren both in a conference room across the hall.

  Rider stood outside. He opened the door and nodded for Zane and Abby to go in.

  Lauren jumped up and crossed toward Abby, throwing her arms around Abby’s neck. “Oh God. Abby. I’m so sorry.”

  Abby hugged her back and then met her gaze. “Not your fault.”

  “Somehow I got you into this mess. I should have listened to you from the start and broke things off with Anton. Now look what happened.” Lauren’s face looked much better than it had yesterday. She was still a mess and would have a black eye to rival Zane’s, but at least the swelling had gone down and she could see.

  Rider spoke up from his side of the room. “I’m not convinced both of you aren’t pawns in a much larger scheme.”

  Abby’s boss came around the table next. “And I can’t believe all this keeps happening in my casino. Abby, are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m not a very reliable employee, though. I was only there a month before I needed a week off for a car accident, and then at the end of my first day back I manage to get kidnapped.” She tried to smile.

  “Yeah, well, in both cases your danger was caused by patrons to my establishment. If we don’t put an end to this, I’ll never be able to hire waitresses and dealers.”

  The door to the conference room opened again, and the officer in charge of the investigation, Jacobson, stepped in. He shook Zane’s hand and then reached for Abby’s, nodding at the other occupants. “Everybody. Please sit. Let’s sort this out. I need to hear from Abby, and then we’ll go over a few things.” He turned toward Abby again. “You want to make your statement in my office? You don’t have to do this in front of everyone.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Here is fine.” She sat in a chair Zane pulled out for her, perched on the edge, wishing she could just go home.

  “Okay. Give me an account of what happened from your eyes first.” Jacobson pulled out a notepad and a pen and set a recording device on the table.

  “Unfortunately, I have very little to tell. I was waiting outside The Crystal Palace for Zane to pick me up.” She lifted her gaze when Zane squeezed her hand. “I know, stupid,
but I thought it was safe. Anyway, some guy grabbed me by the face and smothered me with something that knocked me out fast. I never saw him. When I woke up, I was alone in a dark room, my wrists tied behind my back and my ankles tied together. I screamed, but no one heard me. Or no one cared.

  “Eventually, the door opened and some Russian guy with spiky blond hair cut me free and yanked me to my feet. He cut me free and dragged me into the arena where I saw Zane in the cage about to fight.” Renewed tears fell as she told the tale.

  Zane wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest until she was half on the chair that was butted against his.

  Jacobson spoke again. “Abby, we’ll need a doctor to do a blood test to find out what they gave you. It could prove to be vital evidence later.”

  She nodded.

  The door to the room opened, making Abby twist in her seat to see who was there. She was jittery, and with good reason.

  The man who leaned in wasn’t someone she’d met before. He appeared to be about fifty, and he glanced around before meeting Jacobson’s gaze. “I need a word.” He backed out of the room.

  Jacobson stood and followed, apologizing over his shoulder. “Be right back.” He shut the door behind him, but Abby could see him speaking with the older man outside the long window between the conference room and the hall.

  No one said a word.

  Jacobson reentered a few minutes later. “Sorry about that. That was Chief Edward, by the way.” He looked at Abby and then Zane. “They picked up Anton.”

  Zane gripped Abby tighter. “Jesus. Thank God.” He turned toward Rider. “How the hell did all this go down? I was so caught up in the mayhem, I didn’t even know what happened. There were shots fired, and then everyone started running.”

  Rider leaned forward onto his elbows. “I got a call from Mikhail Dudko.”

  “Who’s that?” Abby interrupted.

  “Another Russian fighter. One of the good guys. I think,” Rider explained. “Anyway, he happened to see one of Anton’s minions carrying a woman into a secure room. She was unconscious.”

  “Yeah. She was me,” Abby added, as though this weren’t obvious.

 

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