Brawler's Baby: An MMA Mob Romance (Mob City Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

hand. "Nice to meet you, Mikhail. If you don't mind –."
    He cut me off.
    What is it with these Russians cutting off my sentences?
    "Big balls," he repeated, nodding his head sagely. "To come here."
    I looked around. The Bull's men were looking at me warily – all grim faced with hands resting in waistbands or tucked inside jackets, inches from their weapons. I was no fool – I knew they outnumbered me five to one, and more worryingly, that there wasn't a man or woman in this bar who'd remember noticing me if the police found my body dumped next to the highway out of town.
    Not even that sniveling bartender.
    I need to move this along , I thought. I’ve got more important things to do.
    "Glad you noticed," I grinned mirthlessly, scanning my potential assailants for any glaring weaknesses. I wasn't looking forward to fighting my way out of this one – but if it came to it, I needed to have an edge. I always have an edge. "Why'd you say that?"
    "You know how much money I lost on you, Irishman?"
    "Call me Conor."
    The Bull grinned, like I was granting him a personal favor. They were all the same these Russians, painfully simple once you realized how their minds worked, but no less dangerous for it. The Bratva – the Russian mob – aren't like other criminal organizations, not in my experience, anyway.
    No, these Russians were what the Italians used to be – vicious, single-minded in the pursuit of their criminal activities, and unyieldingly hierarchical. But there was another side to them too – a side that wasn’t talked about nearly so much. Like the New Jersey Italians, before they started selling each other out for shorter prison sentences, anyway, their word was the bond – and giving them your first name is a sign of respect.
    "Oh, I'll call you Conor alright," Mikhail laughed. "I reckon fifty grand buys me at least that much. You owe me, Regan."
    I curled my lip derisively. There was an energy running through me now – the relentless drumming in my brain that had carried me through the last four years was now eating away at me, pushing me to do something stupid, to pick a fight I couldn't win in a place I couldn't possibly hope to survive.
    "That's all you bet? Didn't back your boy, did you?"
    The Bull's men bristled, reacting to my mockery before their boss did. I watched them with interest, noting every move they made – the non-too-subtle drawing back of jackets to reveal weapons holstered at their hips, the animalistic teeth-baring, the puffing out of chests.
    The big dumb brutes were spoiling for a fight – but like turkeys voting for Christmas, they were too stupid to realize that this was a fight they couldn't possibly win. Well – unless they managed to pull their guns out, that was. Looking at the way they sat back on their heels I was confident that I could take all four of them with consummate ease.
    Their boss though – he was another matter entirely. Mean-looking and built like a brick outhouse, even with twenty years on me and a gut that must have weighed more than most of the women in this joint, I had no doubt that he would put up a mean fight.
    Maybe that's what I wanted. I'd spent the last three years traveling from city to city – across America and back again, trying to find someone bigger, stronger and meaner than me, just to get in a cage and feel something again. Even if that feeling was just pain. But what had I got?
    Nothing. The same relentless rage that carried me from cage to cage night after night in city after city, also carried me through every fight unscathed. It was rare enough that another fighter managed to lay a hand on me.
    Rarer still that it hurt.
    And no one had ever beaten me.
    Maybe that's why I was here, picking a fight with a man and his gang. Maybe now, so close to the girl I'd been chasing – the goal I'd been chasing – I wanted to wallow in that pain one last time.
    Well, for the first time.
    Mikhail's men watched their boss carefully, waiting for him to