My bladed knuckle-dusters sliced into the pink flesh of the swine, the dripping blood and the cut of the skin almost humanlike as I let the power of my punches loose.
“Drop and give me fifty,” Viktor ordered. I did as commanded, falling into my push-ups position. I pushed off the floor, eyes focused forward as Viktor counted me down.
The familiar smells of the gym filled my nose, the sounds of clanging metal, grunts, and punching bags being struck brought me back to life. But a rip of guilt also sliced through my chest. Kisa had no idea I’d been training again. She had no idea that I’d called on Viktor to get me match fit again. To be Raze ready.
In the weeks that I’d been back in Brooklyn, the street war between the Bratva and the Jakhua Georgians had begun. Our men were being targeted, shot, killed, beat. And it incensed me. Fueled the constant rage I’d had fought to rein in.
As the knayz I was forbidden to fight. The Pakhan wanted to secure the safety of his future successor. But me? I wanted to be on the streets. I wanted to fight among the men. I wanted to take the lives of our enemy. I wanted to be a part of the war, not watching from the sidelines.
Fuck. I needed the violence. Something dark within me still craved it.
And more than that, I wanted Jakhua. Anri’s revenge would not be complete until that fucker had died under my blades. I wouldn’t move on until that mission had been accomplished. Right now that fucker was in hiding. But at some point he’d show his face, and when he did, I’d be prepped and ready to take him out.
“Fifty,” Viktor called, ending my push-ups. I jumped up, only to start my next set of reps on what was left of the decimated pig carcass. I was ten reps in to my routine when I felt someone watching me.
Lifting my head, I searched the gym, and my eyes fell on Kisa standing near the entrance to her office. My stomach rolled. She was meant to be out for the day. She was never meant to know I was training again. She wouldn’t understand why I needed this.
Halting in my training session, sweat pouring down my face, I breathed hard as I stared at my wife. Her expression was unreadable as she stood motionless just watching me in my gym shorts, my blood-covered ’dusters firmly on my fists.
“Shit, been caught,” Viktor muttered under his breath from beside me. He threw Kisa a guilty wave. She waved back, then turned to go into her office. When the door shut, I dropped my head and felt Viktor’s hand land on my shoulder.
“You better go sort that out, kid,” he said. “I’ll clean up here.”
Nodding, I slid the ’dusters off my fingers and headed for the office. As I walked through the mob of this season’s recruits perfecting their skills, I couldn’t help but size each one of them up. And I automatically knew I could take them all. For most, there wouldn’t even be a contest. I would slaughter them in seconds. I tried my hardest to push those thoughts from my mind.
It was no longer my life.
I reached Kisa’s office, and with my hand hovering over the knob, I took a deep breath and walked in. As the door shut, I stepped forward, unsure of how Kisa was going to react to finding me training.
I walked before her desk and slumped down in the seat opposite. I stared at the table, hands gripping the edge, not saying a damn word. Kisa didn’t move for several seconds, until she leaned forward and ran her finger over my wedding ring.
I watched as her finger traced the edges of the gold ring and I held my breath. “How long have you been training?” she asked. Every one of my muscles tensed.
Briefly closing my eyes, I opened them to look up at my wife and confessed, “Awhile.” Four months to be exact, I added in my head.
“Here?” she asked. I nodded my head. “Under my nose, hiding in plain sight, or is it only in the shadows or when I’m gone?”
I sat back in my seat at the anger in Kisa’s voice. She was rarely pissed at me. Clearly my training had pissed her the fuck off. “You wouldn’t understand,” I replied.
Kisa’s angered face immediately filled with hurt. And I immediately felt like shit. “I would, Luka. I would understand,” she whispered. “If you’d talked to me, I would’ve understood.”
Her cut voice made me look up at her beautiful face. I could see pain written all over it. And it cut me to shreds. Sighing, I stood and moved around her desk. When I reached Kisa’s side, I pushed her chair back and sat before her on the edge of her desk.
My taped-up hand ran down her soft cheek and she leaned into my palm. “I need it, solnyshko. I need to train, to fight. This was my life for so long that it’s all I really know. It’s part of me now. Here, in this gym, I feel more at peace than I do when we are with our fathers. I tried to not come here, but I couldn’t. I had to come back.”