Dirty (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Paul slammed his fist into his opponent’s ribs over and over again. Though he wasn’t the favorite to win tonight due to the sheer size of his adversary, he didn’t let it bother him. It wasn’t the first time he’d fought a larger man and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The behemoth before him probably had him by a good five inches and eighty pounds but he was slow, giving Paul the opportunity to evade the slower swings of his meaty fists.

He moved to the side and attempted an uppercut to his adversary’s chin, but missed. Before he could completely move out
of
the way, a body blow caught him in the chest. Stumbling backward, Paul lost his footing and landed on his bottom. The colossus was on top of him before he had a chance to right
him
self. Fists rained down on him delivering body blows. Paul curled his arms around his head to protect it. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in this position. With a swift twist of his body, he managed to evade a blow that was probably meant to knock him out. Instead
,
his opponent rammed his fist into the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse.

Taking advantage of his adversary’s mistake, Paul rolled from under the heavyweight’s body and jumped to his feet. Hooking his arm around the other man, he applied pressure against the carotid arteries ensuring the guy would be down within seconds. When his opponent struggled, Paul tightened his grip until there was no longer a struggle. The unofficial rep of the match rushed forward and grabbed the limp arm of the now passed out man and lifted it. The arm immediately fell to his side.

“He’s out!”

The crowd roared with life. Those who had bet on Paul cheered the loudest because the odds
were
stacked against him. They’d be going home tonight with sizable wins. Though his opponent was fast asleep from the hold he had on him, Paul continued to squeeze. He found himself in a space that he never thought he’d be in
.
Instead of
the nameless opponent he’d just taken down, he faced his greatest nightmare. The red sheath of rage fell over him and he couldn’t let go, despite people yelling for him to stop.

It barely registered that someone had yelled, “Come on buddy, that’s enough!”

“You’re going to kill him and fuck this whole thing up for the rest of us.”

Paul blanked out. Nothing mattered except taking this bastard out so he’d never hurt anyone again. “Stay the fuck away from her!”
He
growled squeezing even tighter.

Suddenly
,
he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head that made him loosen his grip on his enemy. It took several moments for him to realize that he’d been hit from behind. Releasing his victim
,
he turned around to star
e
in to the steel gray gaze of the Russian.

Misha stood there, flanked by two men who were as wide as they were tall. Paul never let anyone’s size intimidate him, but the gun in Misha’s told him not to make any sudden moves. He was no fool. Misha brandished the butt of the gun, what
he’d
most likely used to hit Paul. “Don’t make me use my little friend in the way it was intended. Come my friend. Let’s take a walk.” Misha casually handed his gun to one of his goons.

He gestured for Paul to follow him. Having no choice, Paul cautiously walked behind the Russian until they came to a full-sized luxury sedan with tinted window
s
. Misha opened the back door and waited for Paul to get in. When Paul paused, Misha grinned. “I’d rather not force you
,
my friend. I’m sure you’d give me a good fight but I don’t always play fair.”

With a deep exhale,
Paul
slid into the car. The buttery smooth heather gray seats were pristine. Hopefully
,
the Russian would want to keep them that way and not splatter his brains all over the place. Paul didn’t fear death but this wasn’t how he pictured himself going out. He tensed when Misha slid in next to him. Paul stiffened
as he
waited for what was to come. From the corner of his eye, he assessed the Russian. They were roughly the same size and build but he didn’t doubt the other man wouldn’t be able to hold his own even without his goons. He calculated his chances of getting out of this situation alive.

“Relax my friend. I just wanted to have a…friendly chat with you.” Misha bent over and pulled a wooden lacquered box from
a hidden drawer in between them
. Relief filtered through Paul’s body when Misha opened the box and inside
were
cigars.

“Would you like one? They’re Dominican. One of the finest brands in the world.”

Paul shook his head. “I’m surprised you don’t prefer Cubans
.
”

Misha chuckled not seeming the least bit offended. He took out one cigar, cut the tip and returned the box to its original space. He took his time lighting and
taking
a deep drag from the pungent brown stick. “Ah, you Americans are only so hung up on Cubans because you were told you couldn’t have them. They are terribly overrated. Now this,” Misha held his cigar to give it quick exam, “this has a
rich, not
so in your face flavor like a Cuban. I prefer
t
he more subtle blends.”

Something told Paul that Misha was no longer talking about cigars but he offered no other addition to the conversation. “I’m sure you probably think I brought you here because of that little incident back there. Things happen, and if there’s a casualt
y
along the way, then so be it.”

“Then why am I here?” Paul finally spoke
,
tired of this cat and mouse game the Russian seemed so fond of.

“You’ve already forgotten our last conversation? If that’s the case, I’d only be too happy to remind you. You see, I like you Paul. Most men are intimidated by me because I have somewhat of a reputation
;
so
me
of it earned
and
some are simply the result of over active imaginations. I knew I saw something in you the last time you were here and the fact that you come here again, more savage and hungrier than ever, I was correct in my earlier assessment of you. You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I’m not looking for a job.”

“I made no mention of an actual job. Let’s just say I need to cash in on that favor we discussed.”

“Did we actually have a discussion about it or was it simply you trying to intimidate the hell out of me
?
If you’re looking for me to do anything illegal for you, go ahead and kill me now.”

Misha chuckled. “And they say us Russians are blunt. The more we talk, the more I like you Paul Winters. So much fire in you. Be careful that your flame isn’t
extinguished
. Besides, there’s no fun in killing because dead men can’t learn from the lesson. I prefer a more hands on approach. You have nothing to worry about, Paul Winters. What I need for you is to take care of a package for me.”

Though Misha Petrov was known for his legitimate business dealings, he was equally known for the illegal ones and Paul wanted no part of it. He’d seen where a life of crime could lead and he wanted no part of it. “I already said I’m not getting involved in any of you more disreputable activities. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you at all.”

The Russian narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. “And yet
,
you come to my fights and risk us getting exposed by trying to commit murder? My friend, I would suggest, you rethink your position because the way I see it, you have everything to lose and nothing to gain by refusing my simple request.”

Paul attempted to push his anger below the surface but he refused to be threatened by this asshole any longer. He grabbed the Russian by the collar and gritted his teeth. “What the hell are you getting at?”

Without warning
,
Misha head butted him and broke the hold Paul had on him. Before Paul could properly recover, Misha dealt him a body blow to the ribs. Paul raised his fist to retaliate but found a pistol in his face. He wondered where the fuck had that come
from.
Hadn’t this motherfucker just given one of his bodyguards another gun? The guy probably had weapons hidden all over the place.

“I’ve been very cordial with you thus far
,
Winters
,
but I see you’d prefer me to play the angry Cossack. If that’s what you’d prefer, here it is. I can make things very unpleasant for you, and for your friends, your business, your family, which I believe consists of that sweet sister of yours and her husband.”

“Don’t you fucking threaten her! I don’
t
give a goddamn that you have a gun in my face because you know what? If you wanted to kill me, you would have pulled the trigger already. Now either
you shoot
, or let me go.”

Misha cocked his gun and for the briefest of second
s
Paul thought the other man might just might murder him. Just as quickly as their struggled began, it ended with the Russian putting the gun away in his waist band and laughing. “You continue to impress me
,
Winters. A lesser man would have shit himself by now.”

Though he’d die before he admitted it, Paul had been quite close to voiding his bowels when faced
with the
gun. He was only human. “What do you want
,
Petrov
?”

“Look, I’m not your enemy here. And what I have to ask of you isn’t illegal. If it were, you wouldn’t be the one I asked for assistance. I know you’re type, you’re a boy scout, what some of my more urban associate
s
would say a ‘captain save a ho
,
’ I believe the quaint term is called. You have this tough façade and you can handle your own, better than most, but it’s that other side that you try to hide, the protective one. I won’t pretend that I haven’t had you watched, but it was necessary for what I need to ask of you.”

“You had me watched?” Paul demanded incredulously.

“Just casual observation. Most of what I learned about you was through a detailed report from a private detective. Like I said, I have an important package I need to deliver to you and
I need
for you to keep it safe for a few days until I can move it to
a
more secure location.”

Against his better judgement, he asked, “Why are you so secretive about this package
,
if it’s nothing illegal
?”

“Because the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not at all, my friend. Trust me. When I threaten you
, you’ll
know. Do this favor for me and I
will
compensate you for your time.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“I understand that you’re doing quite well with your little bakery venture, but you could expand your soon to be empire faster with some extra capital.”

“No
,
thank you. Just tell me why I should help you.”

“Because rarely do I ever ask nicely for anything and I’m asking you
,
Paul Winters. Will you please help me?”

This man was a known criminal who had his fingers in several different illegal enterprises but there was a hitch in his voice, a gleam in his eyes that gave Paul pause
.
There was no reason why he should help this man except for the fact that there seemed to be something more to this request than he initially thought. “This is really important to you
,
isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“And how long will I have this package for?”

“No longer than a couple days. You have my word.”

“Nothing illegal?” Paul insisted.

“I don’t make a habit of repeating myself, Mr. Winters. Will you help me or not?”

“And if I don’t, you’ll harm my family?”

“Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t go around harming people who haven’t crossed me. I only mentioned your business and family to see how you’d react. You are free to leave no questions asked.”

Paul sighed rubbing his temples. He had a massive headache from the fight, being hit in the back of his head and being head-butted by Misha. Now probably wasn’t the time to make decisions when he might be slightly concussed but he felt compelled to say yes.

“And this package of yours won’t disrupt my life in any way
?”

“You’ll only have it for a few days. As busy a man as you are in your day to day life, I’m sure you won’t even notice.”

“Fine. I’ll help you. But this better not come back to bite me in the ass.”

“It won’t. I will in touch with you soon.”

Paul moved to exit the vehicle.

“And Winters, it might me a good idea for you to stay away from the fights for a while. I can’t afford to have an
other
incident like we had tonight. You were out of control my, friend. While I have the means to cover up any unfortunate eventualities, I’d rather not. It’s too messy. Be careful
,
Winters
,
or you’ll find yourself in a situation that can’t be so easily remedied.”