When I don’t say anything, Sean looks from me to her and narrows his eyes when he finally puts the pieces together. Turns out he’s not as stupid as he looks. I can feel the anger rolling off him, but I don’t budge an inch. He gives me another smirk and leans in just a bit and lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“Did she tell you I was the one who popped her sweet little cherry when she was a teenager? You know what they say. A girl never forgets her first.”
My whole body goes still at his words. I remember exactly what Moira told me about the little fucker who tried to force himself on her when she was younger. She just failed to mention it was Sean. And now here he is, lying his ass off and showing no remorse at what he almost did to her. Every man has his limits, and Sean just pushed me over mine.
He’s expecting a punch, but that’s not what I give him. A lot of people get hurt when they try to head-butt someone, but not me. I’ve done it too many times, and at this point I could easily do it in my sleep without so much as getting a bruise. The crunch of his nose breaking when I make contact is enough to make me smile and start to feel a little bit better about the situation. I watch the blood spurt out, drenching his nice, white sweater.
While he’s stunned, I wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze hard enough to make his beady eyes pop out a bit. I lean in closer. “A lot of people mistake me for a boxer, Sean, but it’s a mistake no one’s ever made twice. I grew up fighting on the streets, and a street fighter is all I’ll ever be.”
He tries to cough, but I’m squeezing too hard to allow him enough air to do so. I watch his face turn a nasty shade of red and vaguely hear Moira and Dima yelling at me to stop. “Boxers have to follow rules, Sean, and I don’t fucking care about rules, not when it concerns the woman I love. Do you understand?”
I ease up just enough for him to shake his head yes.
“Good. I don’t want to see you here ever again, and if you ever bother Moira again, I’ll kill you.”
He gives another frantic nod of his head before Dima grabs me from behind and pulls me off him. Sean falls back on his ass, gasping for air and coughing up blood. I watch him, making sure he doesn’t try anything stupid as Dima laughs and mutters in Russian, “Fuck, man, this is why we stopped putting you in the ring.”
“I know,” I say, giving him a grin. Moira pushes her way past Dima and looks at me before turning her eyes to Sean. For one horrible moment, I think she’s going to go to him to help him and make sure he’s okay, but she turns back to me and throws herself in my arms, hugging me tightly before quickly pulling back to run her fingers over my head to make sure I’m okay.
“I knew you were hard-headed, but, damn, babe, I didn’t realize how hard-headed.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around her again while Sean spits out a mouthful of blood and cracks his nose back into place with a pained groan.
“Moira, you fucking traitor! I can’t believe you’re fucking one of the Russians!”
“You’re just jealous because you could never get me to fuck you,” Moira says, wrapping her arm around me again and leaning into me.
“I’m calling the cops. Your insane boyfriend is going to get his ass thrown in jail.” He’s already digging his phone out of his jeans when Dima starts laughing.
“Yeah, good luck with that. You do know my father-in-law is chief of police, right? All you are going to do is embarrass the hell out of yourself and get a reputation for being fucking pussy who got his ass kicked and then cried like baby to the cops about it.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Sean to look any more pissed than he already did, but Dima’s words give him that extra nudge into full-on rage. He stands up and glares at the three of us. “Fuck you!” he yells. His nose is still freely bleeding and it’s already started to swell up pretty good. He’s going to look even uglier than usual for a while. His parting gift is another rage-filled look before he turns and walks to his car, getting in and peeling out of the parking lot with a loud squeal of his tires.
I start laughing before he’s even turned the corner. “You are so lucky he bought that,” I say, smacking Dima on the arm. “My father-in-law is chief of police,” I say, mimicking his thick Russian accent.
Dima laughs and shakes his head. “I know. If he had called, Belov would have been running down here with a huge smile on his face to arrest my ass.”
“He would’ve arrested you?” Moira asks, laughing at the two of us.
“Yes. He has warmed up to me, but he has reminded me many, many times that he would arrest me in a second if he caught me breaking the law. Ours is what they call a slow-burn romance.”
We’re still laughing as we unload the bags and bring them inside. Dima helps us get them hung up before leaving, and after he’s gone, I pull Moira close to me and rest my hands on the curve of her lower back.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was Sean?”
“I knew it would just upset you.”
“Please don’t try and protect me, Moira. I can handle anything you want to tell me, and I’d much rather know than be surprised.”
She sighs and rests her hands on my chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry. He texted me shortly after I got here, and I blew him off and told him I didn’t want his help. Then he showed up outside the club one morning and said he wanted to try and make a go of things.” She stops and gives a harsh laugh. “I told him to go away again and that it was never going to happen. That was the last time I saw him. I thought he’d given up.”
“I don’t want you coming here on your own again.”
She looks at me like she wants to laugh. “You can’t be serious?”
“I’m very serious. I don’t trust him. He’s pissed at me. I hurt him and humiliated him, and he’s not the kind of man to forget that.”
“He’s not going to hurt me. He’s a dick, I’ll give you that, but he likes my grandad too much to hurt me, and he’s probably still holding out hope that I’ll marry him and give him the club.” She rolls her eyes at the idea and waves a hand towards the boxing ring. “The club is what he really wants. I’m just a means to get it.”