With Sasha’s help, they slipped out the back, avoiding the fray and more importantly, Olaf. Though there were tons of unanswered questions—from both sides—Igor and Maryruth waited to speak. Igor’s head pounded, his body ached, and he could barely see or breathe.
He needed a doctor.
Sasha and Maryruth got him home and into the shower. Igor leaned and slumped against the wall. Sasha and Maryruth exchanged a look.
“Ah, I think you might be better equipped to help him,” Sasha remarked dryly.
“Maybe you call the doctor, while I help him?” she suggested.
“A good plan.”
Sasha gave them privacy. Maryruth stripped off Igor’s soiled, bloody clothes and cast them aside before undressing herself. She turned on the faucet, splashing lukewarm water over them.
“As hot as you can stand,” Igor rasped. He didn’t know if his eyes were closed or just swollen shut. After the shower, Sasha and Maryruth got Igor into bed.
The doctor arrived and did an examination, told him to watch for blood in his urine, but otherwise to rest, take a lot of painkillers, and call it a day.
“Olaf has been calling your phone non-stop,” Sasha said. “How do you want me to handle it?”
“Don’t do anything,” Igor said. Something cool hit his eyes, and he felt instant relief. He managed to get some pills down his throat and then leaned back against the pillow.
“Take care of him,” he heard Sasha say to Maryruth.
“I will. Sasha…thanks.”
His friend’s retreating steps echoed in his ears, followed by the bedroom door closing.
“Let’s talk,” Igor said. There were things he needed to know. How she’d gotten into The Arena, how she’d tracked him, if she was leaving now that she knew he wasn’t what he seemed.
“Tomorrow,” she promised.
He paused. “You’ll still be here?”
“Yes.”
He fell into a deep sleep, awoke sometime in the night, and stumbled his way to the bathroom. He was shaking and violently ill by the time he made it, but he did it on his own two legs.
No blood in his urine, thank God.
He nearly crawled his way back to bed, falling onto his side and shuddering.
“Igor?” Maryruth’s voice was rough with sleep.
He was doomed to a life of pain. That voice, whispered in the middle of the night, had him hard and ready.
“I’m fine,” he gritted, his hand going to his side.
The lamp turned on and suddenly she was there, next to him. She’d been sleeping in his bed, and he hadn’t even been aware of it.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
“Right, sorry.”
Through cracked eyelids, he watched her get out of bed. A moment later, she returned with a glass of water and a handful of pills. He managed to swallow them before leaning back, exhausted.
She crawled in next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair.
“Is this okay?” she whispered.
He moaned in pleasure and relief.
“I saw the fight,” she said.
“We’re doing this? Now?”
“You’ve got other things you have to do?” she teased. “Like run a marathon?”
He held in a chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry.”
Igor inhaled a shallow breath. “So you saw the fight?”
“Yeah. You were…”
Brutal, violent, ruthless?
“Incredible.”
He searched for her free hand, found it, and brought it to his lips.
“You aren’t who you claim to be either,” she pointed out. “What kind of family business are you in, Igor?”
“Do I really have to say it?”
“No, I guess you don’t.”
He paused before asking, “How did you find me?”
“Followed you.”
“Ah, sure. How’d you get in? Security can’t be bribed.”
“Really? That’s unusual.”
“Part of The Arena’s appeal.”
“The Arena?”
He explained the name, he explained its purpose, but he didn’t want to get distracted. “So, how did you get in?”
“I told them I was your girlfriend.”
“And they bought it?”
“No. Not until I told them they’d be choking on their teeth if you found out that I’d been turned away.”
“What did I say about making me laugh?”
“Sorry,” she said, a smile in her tone. “They finally let me in, and I…didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know what I was walking into. Thank God Sasha spotted me.”
“Thank God, indeed.”
“He told me not to go into the dressing room. Told me to give you some time to calm down.”
“Why didn’t you listen?”
“Because you needed me.”
“You were selfless in that dressing room.”
“Don’t think it completely altruistic,” she negated. “I was just as ready for what happened between us as you were.”
“No regrets?”
“None. A woman wants to be wanted. I’m not a rose petals and candlelight kind of woman, Igor.”
“I’m sure I could change your mind on that.”
“I’m sure you could.” She sobered. “Why were you there to fight?”
“I don’t know what I can tell you.”
“All of it.”
“It might scare you.”
“No.”
He sighed. “My father wanted a blood payment for breaking my engagement to Kat.”
“Why? You weren’t really engaged.”
“Olaf wanted to show everyone who’s in charge of the family business.”
“Ah, so you were toeing the line.”
He said nothing because to say anything would mean he’d have to explain the politics and the coup in the works. And though he had misgivings about bringing her into his world, he didn’t think for a second he could let her walk away. He didn’t have it in him to be that selfless.
“Do you …” she started.
“Yes?” he pressed.
“Do you plan on introducing me to your father?”
“Someday. It’s inevitable. No doubt he saw you with Sasha—saw you enter the dressing room where I was.”
“Should I be afraid of him?” she whispered.
“No, pchelka. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”