“No.”
Frowning, I raised my head. “What do you mean, no?”
“Dammit, I didn’t want to start off with this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “We’re going to have our fucking night of romance, do you understand me? I’m not leaving this goddamn hotel room without it.”
My lips twitched. “Why, that’s the sweetest offer I’ve ever gotten.”
But he didn’t smile. He sliced into his steak and took a bite, then another. He poured wine for both of us and took a long sip. And another. Soon his glass was almost empty while mine sat untouched.
I waited him out.
“They want you to fight,” he said finally.
12
Tray
This was the last conversation I wanted to have tonight. But lately, my wants weren’t ranking real high.
Mia curled her fingers around the stem of her wine glass. “Who wants me to fight?” she asked carefully, her tone probably not dissimilar to that of her therapist’s. It was the tone used while talking to someone who was precariously balanced.
She wasn’t wrong. The idea of her getting back into the ring again, especially under these circumstances, was enough to make me jump out of my skin. And she’d wanted to start a regime of medication? Absolutely fucking not. I wouldn’t risk the side effects when she had to fight.
Couldn’t risk her, not again.
I didn’t look at her. I was afraid if I did, I’d launch myself across the table and wrap her in my arms and never let her go.
And I’d accused her of needing a shrink? Right now, we were running neck-and-neck.
“What do you remember about last night?” I asked, cutting into my meat just to give myself something to do. The food was delicious, but my appetite had fled the moment she’d mentioned the emergency appointment with her therapist.
I knew she needed to talk to someone, and she was so brave for taking that step. But it made me face all the steps I wasn’t taking myself. All the ways I was letting her down…and myself.
“I remember everything, Tray,” she snapped. “I didn’t lose my memory. Just checked out for a while.”
“Tell me. Just run through what happened, briefly. For my sake.”
She blew out a breath and did as I asked. She recounted the night’s events from our phone call to when she’d arrived at the club, and after, when she’d decked Lorenzo and Giovanni had shepherded us out of the place as if we were a pair of lambs set for slaughter.
Neither of us were innocents, and we definitely weren’t defenseless. Giovanni knew that. So the men we’d inadvertently come up against must be more dangerous than I’d begun to guess.
I would find out. One way or another. But first I had to get Mia ready to fight. And to win.
“I wasn’t asleep, and I wasn’t unaware. I knew what was happening. If I’d wanted to speak, I could have. I don’t fully know how to explain it.” She gripped her fork and studied her plate. “All I know is that it happened then, and that way, because you were there and I knew I was safe,” she said, lifting her gaze. “You wouldn’t let anything happen. For once, I didn’t have to control the outcome of everything. You were there,” she repeated softly.
I reached across the table to cup my hand around hers. “I’ll always be there. Understand me?”
She nodded, lowering her head. “I don’t want to end up in that situation again,” she whispered, turning her hand up to grip mine. “Just because I can lean on you doesn’t mean I can ignore what happened. I got lucky I was in a safe situation. But next time, I might not be. Maybe I’ll put someone I care about in danger.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “The medication should help. I know you don’t want me to go that route, and I didn’t either for a long time, but—”
“It’s not about that. There’s no shame in needing medication or in taking it. But now isn’t the right time to start.” I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “He followed your fights.”
A wrinkle formed between her brows. “He who? The guy I nailed in the face? Lorenzo?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I got that last night. Must be one of those who gets a hard-on from watching chicks fight.”
The idea of any man—least of all the fucker who’d dared to throw her past in
her face—getting a hard-on over watching her in the ring killed the rest of my appetite. I dropped my fork and rubbed my forehead where a headache was brewing. “It’s more than that. They gamble on the fights, among other things, and they take their money very seriously. They’re dangerous men, Mia. I don’t know what all they’re into, but Gio said it’s some nasty shit.”
She didn’t blink. “So?”