The Russian Fighter (Mafia Men #1)

Mixed Emotions

Chapter 7

Edited

Nina and I were glued to the floor a few moments, trying to gather ourselves from the most intensifying conversation we ever experienced. It wasn't until the sound of a trumpet that we woke from the haze, turning towards the school.

"We have to go," Nina told me, grabbing my hand. "The team is about to be announced, and I need to prep with my team."

Walking through the gates I parted ways with Nina, scouring the track and field for Erik. The team had yet to make an appearance, but the coach and his assistant stood around the table of cups of water and towels and barrel of Gatorade.

I made my way in front of the bleachers where the cheerleaders were warming up for their next routine. Nina called them in to start a cheer for our student and adult supporters waving banners. Luckily for me Arina was nowhere in sight.

I headed across the field to the side where the team were getting ready behind the Visitors side of the bleachers. At least with the camera I had an excuse. Inside the players were already in their gear, and to my surprise so was Maksimillian and Aleksandr; two girls from the cheer team flirting and caressing their biceps.

When did they make the football team?

As of sensing me the brothers glanced up, spotting me. I stopped, seeming stuck in mud and sinking as my eyes met Maksimillian across several bodies in gear.

"Korina," Aleksandr said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

I crossed my arms. "Not really any of your business."

"Don't be like that," said Maksimillian, his hands upon the girl's thin waist. "It was a harmless question."

I gave Maksimillian the finger and maneuvered through heavy gear and freshly scented male to find Erik. Wolf whistles tailed me from the dirty bastards, something I rewarded with a angry finger too.

"Erik?" I turned the corner to be greeted with my boyfriend, only he wasn't alone. A girl was leaning on him, her perfectly, manicured, red nails rubbed his chest, bare except for his girdle man pants. She wasn't from my school, sporting the colors of our navy blue and white; a shade darker than ours.

"Erik?"

In a split second Erik shoved the girl away, a sheepish and guilty grin on his face. "Hey, babe."

It was amazing how much he hadn't taken the family accent.

"W-what's going on here?"

"Yeah, cuz." Maksimillian came up from behind me and leaned against the stands. "What are you doing letting another girl touch you?"

"That's my cue," the girl said and left to regroup with her school tribe.

Erik fisted his hands, glaring. "It was a misunderstanding. Nothing happened."

"Not in public," goaded Maksimillian.

"That's enough," I snapped. "You've been at each other's throats for over a week. As a form of relation in blood, you should at least try to be more civil towards each other."