by Nola Marie
“And you could get yourself killed. These aren’t random thugs, Baby. And they won’t be opposed to hurting or killing people involved with you to get you to do what they want.”
“Including you,” she looks at me worried.
“No, Baby, not me. I promise not me. I need you stay here where we can make sure they don’t come after you again.”
“What’s stopping them here, Zane? He already showed up at my hotel. What’s stopping him from coming again?”
“Me,” I growl. “And the rest of us.”
“I have to train.” She continues to argue but she’s losing momentum.
“You will. We will all work with you. Train with you.” She scoffs which I try not to take personally. “Tori, you’ve seen me. You know that I can train you. That we can all work with you. Fucking Bastian and Rory made sure a long, long time ago that Jax and I could do a lot more with these fantastic muscles of ours besides look good and play ball.” I say the last part as a joke that she laughs at.
“You don’t know my routine,” her argument gets weaker.
“And I guess we’re too dumb to be taught,” I mock but with a smile.
She huffs but she’s smiling too. That thousand watt smile she has that I don’t even think she realizes she has. She shows as many teeth as I do. “Fine,” she says rolling her eyes.
I pull her to me for a kiss which she greedily accepts for a second until she pushes me away. “Go get in the damn shower.”
The gym in the lower levels of the Diamond building is state of the art. As if Rory and Bastian would have anything less. It’s funny how they are very simple people in some aspects and extraordinarily extravagant in others. They hate suits but Rory wears a fifteen-thousand-dollar watch. Bastian renovated his loft (former sugar cane plant) from top to bottom himself but has a collection of cars to rival Jay Leno.
Their offices on the forty-second floor are up to date and modern but extremely simplistic. The lower levels, on the other hand (where mafia business is handled), have the best of everything. Sound proofing, two-way mirrors in some rooms, and this gym is another example.
I walk across the floor past every modern convenience training requires, to the ring in the middle of the floor. Rory is in the ring with her moving around while she swings wildly. Bastian hangs over the ropes watching – analyzing actually.
He jumps from the platform when he sees me coming. He, not so subtly, brings me to the side out of hearing range.
“I take it she’s not doing well?” I ask unable to mask my concern.
“She’s hurting more than she’s letting on, but you can’t miss it in how she moves. It’ll be a dead giveaway to whoever she’s fighting.”
“Have y’all told her that?”
He drags a hand down this face then begins to pull on the back of his neck. “Not yet. We’ve been trying to get her to change up her fighting style a bit. She a southpaw swarmer when swinging, but you can tell she’s used to grappling and submissions. We are trying like hell to get her to be more defensive because every time she swings, she’s dropping her shoulder because she’s in pain.”
“Maybe get her to fight more orthodox,” I suggest.
“Do you think she really has time to basically learn how to be a totally different type of fighter? Three weeks isn’t even enough time to train for a fight like this if she were completely healthy.” He is trying not to show it, but he’s worried. He has tells just like Rory and Jax and his are on full display. “I’ve done some checking on her. She is a great fighter when she has time to prepare and she’s healthy. Have you noticed anything else going on with her besides the ribs?”
I think for a minute. I have caught her grabbing the counter a few times for balance when I don’t think I’ve ever seen her off balance before. I also catch her rubbing her neck on occasion. “Maybe,” I answer vaguely because I’m not sure if I’m reading into it a little too much. “Why do you ask anyway?”
“I’m worried she may have gotten a concussion during her last fight. Every once in a while, she just seems to get a little dizzy.”
Now I’m rubbing down my face. I grip all of my hair in my hands behind my neck and begin to pull at them both. “Fuck. How can I let her fight in that match?” I ask, all the while knowing full well, I don’t let Tori do anything.
“Don’t have a choice, Zee. Gotta let her do it or risk them hurting her sister. We’ll just have to make sure she focuses on defense.”
We walk back toward the ring climbing onto the apron. I watch her movements closely. She’s not just dropping her shoulder or shuffling her feet. She is a lot slower than I know Tori can be. She is most definitely favoring that left side.
“Take a break,” Rory tells her. “Actually, you should probably call it a day.”
She starts shaking her head. I love her more for her tenacity and determination, but I know Rory is right. She’s not getting anywhere like this. I know she’s not going to give up that easy though.
Bastian and I climb between the ropes in the ring. “Tori, what did the did doctor tell you about your ribs?” Bastian asks. The question catches me off guard and makes me feel a little guilty because I haven’t thought to ask her that.
She shrugs nonchalantly and I knew I wasn’t going to like her response. “Never went to the doctor. I know what broken ribs feel like and what to do about them.”
Bastian scrubs his hand down his face in agitation. Rory rakes his fingers through his hair tugging just a little. I lace my fingers behind my neck, gripping it tight, to keep from wrapping them around her throat. “Why?” Rory asks with his teeth clenched. “Why didn’t you see a doctor?”
Her chin tips up defiantly as she readies herself to remind us all that she doesn’t need our input. That no one tells her what to do. “Why would I waste money on an emergency room visit when I know what’s wrong? Not to mention, how would I explain the state I was in?”
“I’m sure they had a doctor who could’ve looked you over,” I comment with my teeth grinding down hard.
“They didn’t offer one,” she tells us with another careless shrug.
“Che cazzo? Sei stupido, cazzo?” Bastian begins to ramble in Italian. He’s known to do that from time to time. Especially when he’s pissed.
“I’m not sure what you just said,” Tori hisses at him, “but I’m not stupid.”
“The evidence of that is lacking,” Rory says dryly. “You needed a doctor. It may be after the fact, but you’re going to see one now.”
She opens her mouth to argue but gets leveled with a glare from Bastian. “You want our help, puttana, you go to the doctor.”
“Watch it, Bastian,” I growl.
“Spiacenti.”
“What doctor do you really expect me to go see? And what, exactly do you think he’ll be able to do about it?”
“Stephen,” we all three say at the same time. Her mouth drops that we just named a doctor off so quickly. “He may not be able to do anything, Baby. But he can help us better prepared.”
She stands there for a minute chewing on her cheek. She’s considering what we’re saying. “So, if I don’t go see this doctor, you won’t help me?”
Rory and Bastian exchange a look. I already know the answer to her question. We’ve all discussed the possibility and hope it doesn’t come to that. Our chances of getting Cara out of there unharmed are much better with Tori but the fact is, the plan for the takeover is already in motion. Matteo is ready. “If you don’t go to the doctor, we will do this without you,” Rory tells her in that icy, no questions tone he has.
Tori flinches a bit as her face turns red. The answer pisses her off, but she knows she doesn’t really have a choice. “Fine. I’ll go see your stupid doctor.”
Tori
“If you can’t protect yourself, I’m not letting you go to that fight,” Zane yells at me for probably the hundredth time.
“You can’t fucking stop me,” I yell back, also for the hundredth time.
“Fucking watch me,” he hisses, getting in my face.
Except every damn time we end up like this. In each other’s space. Anger and frustration palpable between us. We nearly rip each other’s clothes off.
And I can see the lust in his eyes now. I can see his chest heaving as the frustration and desire war within him.
My own arousal makes me want to squirm under his gaze. I can feel myself growing wetter by the second.
“All right,” Bastian bellows from the corner. “I’m not in the mood for porn today. Zane, go – take a cold shower.”
Neither of us move. We keep standing there, toe to toe. He’s looking down at me. I’m looking up at him. My teeth grind and his jaw clenches.
Then an arm wraps around me as I’m hauled to a corner and Bastian drags Zane off.
Jax sets me back to my feet in the corner. “He's not wrong. If you can’t protect yourself then you can’t fucking fight.”
“And I can’t let them hurt my sister,” I tell him defiantly. I’m getting more than a little tired of these four men thinking they can tell me what to do.
“You need to stop fighting against us,” he tells me. His hazel eyes grow darker as he speaks. He’s more than a little pissed himself. So is Bastian judging by the way his arms are flailing everywhere as he speaks to Zane. “Work with us, Tori. This can’t work if you don’t.”
My acute instinct is to rebel and fight against the constant demands they keep throwing at me. I don’t like being told what to do. I don’t like when someone thinks they know better than me. Shoving it down hasn’t been easy. I’m stubborn beyond fault.
But I try. I try to resist the urge to push when they pull. To stop myself from making snide remarks. Easy it is not but I do it.
I do it because I know they’re right.
“We good?” Jax asks with a bit of sympathy in his voice. Like maybe he understands how hard it is to relent control over to another person.
I take a couple of deep breaths to clear my head and gather my focus. With a nod I tell him I’m ready.
We move back to the center of the ring. Jax following this time. They’ve all taken turns working with me. Jax is definitely the most challenging with his eight-inch height different. I have to get well within his long reach to land a strike but it's helping me maneuver differently to get out of his reach since speed is not my friend right now.
Working with all of them actually has helped my defense quite a bit. Because I have to get so close to them to land a strike, I have to know how to get myself back out of there quickly.
I move into his space, he swings, I block quickly then jump back out of his range. I work my way back close enough to land a hit to his side. This time I don’t get out quick enough before he lands a hit of his own to my left side.
None of them have been hitting me like we’re in a real fight. In fact, I imagine their punches and strikes are little more effort than they’d use to swat a fly. But this hit hurts me.
“You’re not rolling, Tori,” Rory says from the apron. "And you're pulling your punches."
But I’m not correcting. I’m wheezing. That hit caught me right in the ribs. And it wasn’t a hard strike at all. I’ve been slapped harder.
“Shit,” I hear Jax say as he comes to my side.
Rory is beside me in another moment as I struggle to get air.
“Tori?”
“I – I’m okay,” I tell them but even I wouldn’t believe me right now. Jax drops into a near squat to get eye level with me. He looks me over carefully then runs his fingers over my side. “Thought Stephen said she was fine.”
“He said she was healing,” Rory corrects.
“Has no one thrown anything into her ribs?” he glares at his brother. “Because when she gets in that cage, that’s the first thing whoever she’s fighting is going for. I barely tapped her, and she can’t breathe.”
“We’ve been focused on trying to make sure she doesn’t get hit,” Rory grunts, clearly getting insulted by his brother’s insinuations.
“That’s not fucking realistic Rory.”
I finally feel like I can breathe when Bastian appears at my side as well. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I insist. “I’m fine now.”
“How the fuck do you think you’re going to last thirty seconds much less fifteen minutes, Tori?” Jax blasts and for some reason his words – or maybe it’s his tone – sting much more than the punch did a few minutes ago. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“That’s why we’ve been working on her orthodox style,” Bastian defends.
“And when they swing a kick? Or get her into a submission?” Rory and Bastian just stand there without a word. They don’t have answers.
Zane is climbing back into the ring. He looks at the tension that is radiating from the three men with concern. “What’d I miss?”
No one says a word for another minute. Not even me. Even I can’t argue with what Jax is saying. How can I? I’ve known from the minute I learned of this fight there was no way I would be ready for it. That it was going to end badly. Very badly.
“Forget the rolling, Tori,” Jax finally says. “Work on your foot work. Bob and weave. Cover up. Work on your slipping. When you can land a punch, get in there and get out.”
I bite my tongue to keep from throwing back some snarky remark. Yes, I know all of this that he’s saying but knowing it and utilizing it are very different. And that’s what he’s trying to get me to do.
Jax turns to Rory, “Can Layla come in and work with her? She needs someone closer to her build and stature. Not all of us. We can help her with getting in and out, but she needs to work with someone more likely to be her opponent.”
And now I have to say something. Something I’ve been avoiding because I know Zane is going to lose his shit. For that matter, I’m pretty sure the other men standing with me will too. “Uh, about that,” I start getting all their eyes on me. I swallow hard before I let them all know what I haven't told them yet. “I may not fight a woman.”
Bastian and Rory’s eyes narrow at me. Jax’s jaw clenches so hard, I think I can hear his teeth crack. Zane just stares at me. Those penetrating eyes looking into places that make me want to squirm. “Care to clarify that fucking statement?” he asks.
I try to remain ambivalent. I try not to shrink under their very intimidating stares. It almost makes me laugh how these four men can intimidate me so when no one before then has. “Just what I said,” I shrug. “The other fight wasn’t a woman, so I’m not under any assumptions this one will be either.”
“Those sons of bitches,” Bastian grunts. “Can I bring DeLuca back and cut his fucking dick off again?”
Okay. So, I know that they’re mafia. Zane told me that they are the ones responsible for Romano, his father, and their associate, who was Verity’s father. But Bastian cut off his -.
Holy shit fuck!
“Is there any way Matteo can find out who they have her fighting?” Rory asks without blinking an eye.
“I’ll find out,” Bastian answers.
“I’ll get Layla here. She’s been cleared by the doctor and wants to start working out. This is her opportunity.”
“Layla fights?” I ask as I realize that the question only just entered my mind.
Rory shakes his head a bit. “Yes and no. She’s never been in any kind of in-ring fight, but she’s trained in a few disciplines.”
“You train her?” I ask.
The other three men burst into laughter while Rory sulks. “No, he did not train her,” Zane tells me.
“Rory sent Layla away years ago because he thought she’d find a nice boy and settle down,” Bastian explains. “But it backfired in the biggest damn way possible with Layla going through one bad boy after another until it all came full circle and she ended up back here. The other boyfriends taught her a little and she found someone to teach her because she was always surrounded by dangerous men. She wanted to be able to protect herself.”
“She can shoot a fucking gun with assassin like precision,” Jax adds.
I cast a quick glance Rory’s way to see he is still pouting. I’m not sure if it’s because he wasn’t the one to teach her or because other men were. Probably both, but it's funny to see him pout. “Okay. Just fucking drop it,” he grumbles as he walks off. I see him grab his phone off the bench closest to the ring.
“Well, that was – informative?” I say like a question because I really didn’t know what else to say.
“It’s a touchy subject,” Bastian says with a laugh.
It’s pretty obvious they all think Rory’s predicament is humorous. “I can tell.”
“He did that shit to himself. He can’t get mad about anyone else she was with after he sent her away.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Jax say a bit condescendingly.
Bastian rolls his shoulders then his neck in frustration. “Yeah, I know,” he grunts.
I just shake my head while I walk away. I climb out of the ring to find some water. I grab a bottle drinking it way too fast then grab another.
“You okay?” Zane asks behind me.
I nod as I pour a bit of the cold water on the insides of my wrists. “Just peachy,” I snark then instantly feel bad because I’m being a bitch and he’s worried about me. “Sorry.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and leans a chin on my shoulder. Almost instinctively, I lean back into his chest with a sigh. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he whispers placing a kiss to my shoulder. “I really don’t fucking like this.”
“I know. It’s why I didn’t tell you about the first one. And I didn’t want you to get involved and get hurt.”
He releases his own sigh with a bit of sadness. He’s been trying to convince me there’s no way he could possibly get hurt until I got him to finally admit the truth. “It’s who I am Tori.”
“I know. Just like this is who I am. I may have stepped away from the fighting, but I will always protect the people I love.”
“All right,” Rory bellows, still looking slightly less pouty – which is still hilarious. “Layla is on her way. One more person to work with won’t hurt. I’m even going to get some of the other guys here to help. The more fighting styles we work with the better you can be prepared. Unless Mateo can find out who your opponent will be.”
