“Your impressionable son is the one who fostered my ties with MMA in the first place. Which you well know. I’m just a guy who surfs with his dog.” Slater held his hands palm-up in a gesture of perfect innocence. “Go get a coffee and something to eat. I’ll sit with Tray.”
“I’ll be back.” My father strode out.
Slater dropped into the chair beside my bed. “He makes a piss poor Arnold.”
“He makes a piss poor…father too.” I shifted more fully onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Thoughts were blowing around my brain like someone had turned on a fan, but I couldn’t catch most of them. I was still so exhausted.
Concussion, eye socket fracture, plus God k
new what else. Costas must have been crowing his ass off, thinking he laid me up good.
I rolled my head to the side and squinted at Slater. Thanks to my fucked-up vision, there were a couple of him to choose from, and none of them were smiling. “Mia. Costas.”
Slater leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “She’s a wild thing, huh?”
I wanted to smile. Almost did. Then something caught between jealousy and possessiveness mixed with a whole lot of drugs and pain turned it into a glare. I think. It’s hard to tell what message you’re sending when the recipient multiplies before your eyes.
“Yeah, I get it. Back off. You really think I’m poaching on your land while you’re in a hospital bed? I do have some standards.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “You scared us. Her especially.”
I’d think about that later. “Costas. Don’t…let her near him.”
“It was my mistake. She asked me for his number and of course I wouldn’t give it to her. But I let it slip that he trains at The Cage with Bufort and next thing I know, I hear from Emerson that she’s been questioning half the guys at the gym. She’s tenacious. She also lies as easy as she breathes.” Slater shook his head. “She pretended she just wanted to talk to him. Total BS. Emerson said she put the word out that she wanted to switch her fight with you to a fight with him, still set three weeks from now. Most of the guys think she’s loco so they’re laughing it off.”
Laughing off Mia was a dangerous mistake. I’d done the same, and I’d set in motion the series of events that had left me on my back in a damn hospital bed.
Anger spurted hot and thick through my gut. Holy fuck, I was pissed. At Costas. At Mia. At myself, most of all. I’d come into the ring in prime position to lose. I hadn’t been ready to fight in any way, least of all mentally. I deserved every bit of the ass whupping I’d taken.
But I’d fucking get my own back. I didn’t need my woman—whether or not she acknowledged being that didn’t change the reality—running interference for me. And I sure as shit didn’t need her taking blows that had my name on them.
I’d lost to Costas, fair and square. And I was walking away. Not because my daddy said so, not because I was scared that I couldn’t hang anymore, but because I wanted out. For good.
“You have to…keep her away from…him.” Somehow I managed a coherent sentence. “I’ll be better in a day or two. I’ll set her straight…then.”
Slater smirked despite the heavy lines around his eyes. Lines I’d probably put there. “Good luck with that.”
“Where is she?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. She got into it pretty good with your dad yesterday and I haven’t seen her since. As obnoxious as he was with her, she held her own.” Admiration filled Slater’s voice. “She’s a tough chick, man.”
Yeah, she was. Impressively so. If I’d been looking for someone to take to the next level skill-wise, she would’ve been the perfect choice.
I wasn’t. I wanted a girlfriend. I wanted her.
I rubbed my aching forehead. Everything ached, including my hands. I’d walloped Costas good, even though he’d won. Cold comfort.
It was probably good she wasn’t at the hospital. I couldn’t see her right now. I appreciated her wanting to exact revenge or whatever she was trying to do—or hell, perhaps she’d decided she wouldn’t get any money from fighting me, so why not take on the new champ—but that wasn’t what I needed from Mia. I wanted her at my side. Not in front of me, not behind me. Elbow to fucking elbow.
But that didn’t mean I held out a lot of hope. Getting cracked in the skull had finally driven home that us being a couple might not be in the cards, now or ever. No matter how much I wished otherwise.
I’d let her completely tie me up over the last couple of weeks. That had to stop. I couldn’t take care of someone who wouldn’t let me. I also couldn’t take care of her when my own ass was hanging in the wind. Literally, since I could feel the breeze on my frigging butt every time I moved.
That didn’t mean I intended to turn my back on her. I needed to take a few days to get myself straight. Then I’d deal with Mia.
“While I’m in here…I need a favor, man.” I didn’t say any more and I didn’t look at him.
“Yeah.” Slater sighed. “Already on it.”
“Thanks.”