We’ve talked a few times, but the conversations are stilted and uncomfortable. I have secrets I can’t share, and he knows something is off. That there is something I’m not telling him. Because of that, everything feels out of balance and off-center.
I need to find a way to draw my focus to the match I’m facing but all I can think about is how fucked up this situation is. How, for the first time in my life, I have found someone I really like and want to be with, but the universe throws such bullshit I may not get to keep it.
It's not surprising actually. It's exactly why I said I don't do relationships. There are too many factors and unknown variables that can send the house of cards tumbling down.
I stand under the spray of the shower longer than I probably should contemplating it all. I really wish I knew who I was fighting. I don’t like the idea of going into something without being fully prepared. I don’t have a choice though. I can’t risk anything happening to Cara. I can’t take any chances with her as long as it’s within my power to keep her safe. I just wonder how long they expect me to do this.
I am barely out of the shower when I hear knocking on the hotel room door. I check the peep hole first. I lean my head onto the door with a sigh. I’m not in the mood for this asshole, but I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. I open the door to see James standing on the other side with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants.
“Good idea staying in a hotel,” he commends like he thinks I’m searching for his validation.
“I don’t want Cara knowing anything about his,” I tell him firmly.
“Glad to know we’re on the same page, darlin’,” he tells me. I flinch just like before at the term of endearment.“Need you ready by seven. We have an event to attend before the fight tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at him with suspicion. “I never agreed to any events. I don’t even have a dress. I’m here to fight and go home.”
He grips my chin a little roughly getting inches from my face. It takes more willpower and control than I ever believed I could possibly have to stop myself from putting my knee right into his balls. “You will go to this party – dressed to kill no less. We will introduce you to a few high rollers that will make big bets against you since you're out of the game so long. You're the fucking longshot so you will make us a fuck load if you win,and you will fucking win this match.”
He releases me with a small shove. My blood pressure boils even more. I take a deep breath to calm myself before speaking. “I am really fucking good at what I dowhenI amprepared. When. I. Am. Prepared. I am not fucking prepared for this match. Three weeks to train isn’t enough time, and I can’t prepare correctly without knowing who my fucking opponent is.”
“You better win this match or fucking die trying,” he hisses. “But I highly suggest you don’t die. I’d sure hate to have to use little sister to make up the income from losing you.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I nearly yell. “Whothe hell are you?”
He moves even closer into my space. He moves his nose down the side of my jaw. “I’m thinking after everything is over tonight you and I should get to know each other a little better.”
Ice travels up my spine and nausea fills my stomach. “I have a boyfriend, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You’re a fucking slimeball. The only reason I’m here is because you’re threatening my sister.”
He leans back with a smirk. It’s one of those that makes your mouth look like you could almost be smiling, but the eyes let you know that it’s not a smile you’re sharing. In his eyes is fury and hate and rage. “I know all about Zane Valen,” he sneers. “I’d wager I know more about him than you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say leaning back from him.
Another smirk. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’ll figure it out in time.”
He turns to leave without looking back. I sag in relief that he’s no longer invading my space. My patience is really being tried here. I continuously have to remind myself that I am trying to protect Cara. If I’m being honest, I’ve realized if I don’t go along with what they are asking, more than just Cara could be in danger.
I move back into the bathroom. I need another shower after that encounter. I feel dirty.
As I stand under the spray of the shower, I consider what the man said about Zane. I’m trying to figure out what that could possibly mean, but I keep coming up empty.
There is another knock at the door when I exit the shower for the second time. I don’t even want to open the fucking door. “I have a delivery for Ms. Reese,” the man says from the other side.
I look to the ceiling praying for – I really don’t know what I’m praying for. I just know I need something. I open the door and sign for the package.
I set the unopened objects looking at them like snakes might start crawling out any second. With a groan, I relent and begin unwrapping. A dress and shoes. Actually, not half bad either which pisses me off.
I get dressed quickly without bothering with my reflection. I really could care less how I look for this thing. Not that I look bad. I’m confident enough in myself to know that I look good.
Half an hour and one miserable car ride later, I’m walking into some sort of ballroom. This is not what I was expecting at all. I really don’t know what I was expecting. Just not this.
Beautiful chandeliers hang from the ornate ceiling. Mirrored accents give the room an opulent feel as does the amazing artwork. It feels like stepping into a piece of history.
Tables for groups of four line the out edges of the seating. An orchestra sits on the balcony playing sweet, subdued classical music.
This is the place where people gather before an illegal underground fight? It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It only takes me a minute to realize that this event is a farce. An event for taking bets disguised as charity.
I follow James to the corner of the room where he introduces me to people I have no interest in meeting. People in expensive clothes wearing expensive jewelry. I wonder how many are really here for the charity event and how many are just here to disguise their sin. I wonder how they know men like James and Romano, even though I’ve figured out the two men are very wealthy and powerful, but I don’t know much more. I just know they both give me the creeps. Why wouldn’t they when they are threatening to sell my sister to some creep? When they are blackmailing me into fighting in illegal, unsanctioned matches. I have a feeling that may just be scratching the surface of who they really are.
