Chapter 27 - Lev

After a month of so much peace and quiet, the shit hit the fan all at once. I was called out of bed at the crack of dawn by one of my guys and had to head into the city so fast I could barely say goodbye to Jenna. It was clearly planned, with multiple attacks happening in quick succession. My people were spread thin, and they'd already managed to destroy a small grocery store by the time I was on my way.

When I got to the bar where the second attack took place, we rounded up the perpetrators and stuffed them into the trunks of a few of our cars. The one who was still conscious decided it would be in his best interest to tell us where the third attack would take place, and we headed over there just in time to catch them breaking into an upscale nightclub I'd purchased recently.

That pissed me off since I had planned to keep that place a legitimate business, and no one should have even known I was involved with it. I was used to keeping tabs on my enemies, and it seemed my enemies were keeping tabs on me, whoever they might be.

We managed to learn from the guy we kept from knocking out that they were Russian, like the last crew who'd attacked my bars. But these weren't lone wolves; they were working for an organization up in Portland that was eager for a spot in my city. We took the group who were breaking into my nightclub by surprise and tried to get them to take their buddies and head back home. They couldn't be reasoned with and decided to go out the hard way.

It had been a while since I was in a real, knockdown, drag-out fight, and it felt good to hit something more substantial than the heavy bag in my new home gym. The frustration at having to leave my wife before the sun was all the way up made me go harder than necessary.

Things had been great with Jenna since we moved into the new house, better than great. I had been enjoying married life immensely and didn't appreciate this interruption to the routine we'd fallen into over the last month.

Once we finished up with the new crop of intruders, I let my second-in-command take them away for either further interrogation or disposal. No one was going to be reporting back to the big boss in Portland. If that person wanted to discuss boundaries, it would behoove them to make an appointment to talk, instead of wasting good men on these petty attacks. Having to replace some shelves and windows was only annoying me and getting on my bad side.

Sliding into my car, much later in the day, I groaned at the stiffness in my back. I glanced at my appearance in the rearview mirror and winced. Not at the pain, which was something I was used to, but at the split lip and a burgeoning black eye. I'd enjoyed myself way too much in the fight earlier and I had the battle scars to prove it. This wasn't going to go over well with Jenna, but she should be in a class when I got home, which would give me time to ice my bruises and think of a story that wasn't too alarming to hear.

I didn't want her to worry or ask to get involved. I'd promised to answer any questions, but if I could keep her from asking, then I could keep her from getting too upset. We'd been getting along so well, it was almost like she'd forgotten what I did. Why remind her?

It was a shock to come in the door and find her pacing restlessly from the big, open living area, across the entryway and back again. The second she heard me come through the door, she whirled on me, her face set in tight lines and her eyes stormy.

"Where have you been all day? And why didn't you answer any of my messages?" she asked, racing up to me and gripping my shirt in her fists. "And oh my God, what happened to your face?"

I couldn't tell if she was concerned or angry. "Did your class get canceled?" I asked.

"I skipped because I was too worried to concentrate anyway," she snapped. "And do not try to deflect my questions."

I rubbed my aching jaw and sighed. "It's no big deal," I said. "I've had worse injuries from sparring at the gym. And you should see the other guys." I grinned through the pain and tried to smooth her hair off her cheek. "No, actually, scratch that. You probably don't want to see the other guys."

My attempt to make a joke didn't go over well, and she shook her head in dismay, then dragged me toward our bedroom, about to boil over. I tried to tell her I was completely fine; it was nothing, but she shoved me into the bathroom and slammed open the cabinets until she found the first aid kit.

"Look at you," she said, twisting my face toward the mirror. "It looks like you got run over by a lawn mower."

Jerking the top off a bottle of rubbing alcohol, she poured some into a cotton ball and mashed it into a cut near my eyebrow. Then she pressed it hard against a nick near my jaw, which I didn't even think had anything to do with the fight, just me shaving too fast the day before.

"Take off your shirt," she said, frowning so hard I thought she might pull a muscle. "I'm sure you probably didn't just get hit in the face."

Sure enough, I had a couple bruised ribs, and she huffed air out of her nose as she grabbed for the alcohol bottle again. She worked in silence except for her snorts of displeasure, and really made sure to scrub the alcohol into every cut, then slap on the bandages with barely contained fury. I finally grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're hurting me more than the punches," I said.

She looked up at me, the anger draining out of her like water from a sieve. To my surprise, I noticed her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Had she been crying? I kissed her hand and pulled her close, no longer irritated at the fresh pain she inflicted on me.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

"I just want to know what's going on," she murmured against my chest.

Seeing how upset she got over a little fight, I didn't want to scare her with the news that an entire new organization was trying to invade my turf. It was just another Tuesday to me, but she'd clearly been anxious enough to skip her class when she had a test.

So far I wasn't too worried about it myself. I had already planned on assigning guards to keep an eye on her while she was on campus, but they were trained to be discreet. If she knew about it, she'd probably balk and flat-out refuse, but until I was sure the people spying on me hadn't yet figured out she was my wife, that was the only way she could continue. I was positive I couldn't convince her to stop going to class altogether until further notice—not without locking her up again. If things escalated further, it might have to go down that way, but hopefully, this new group would take the hint and stay in Portland.

I smoothed my hands down her back and kissed the top of her head. "It was nothing," I said. It was the truth. I lived for throwing punches, and I'd handled much bigger uprisings in the past. "There's nothing to worry about."

Putting her arms around my middle, she tipped her head back to look at me. Fear still radiated from her big hazel eyes, and my heart felt too big for my chest that it was for my well-being.

" You're not worried?" she asked. "And pretending to hide it from me to keep me from worrying?"

"I promise," I said with a laugh. "Today was basically an unscheduled workout for me, nothing more."

Her smile broke through, and her hands tightened around my waist, pulling herself closer so that her warm body was flush with mine.

I leaned down to kiss all her fears away.