Alpha Hero (Wolf Protectors #2)

by Terry Bolryder

  “What do you mean? You’re a pro MMA fighter. How can that be?” Senna asked, curious.

  Jordan stopped, standing in place in the middle of the throng of people. Senna stopped and stood in front of him.

  “I just… hate crowds like this. Fighting in the ring is different. You’re surrounded by people, but there’s a ring or a cage between you and them. And when you’re fighting, all you can focus on is you and your opponent. You beating them. But when that’s over, when you come down from the adrenaline high, then it’s all those people. All those cameras. So many.” Jordan seemed only half there, partially lost in thought as he spoke.

  He seemed to have a tendency to do that. But especially more so when he was stressed about something.

  “Well, we can get out of here if you need to. This event isn’t even that important,” Senna said, hoping to be understanding.

  “No. Stay. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t feel so alone. Don’t feel like I want to run or need to hit things,” he said, starting to walk again.

  Senna sidled up next to him, and he smiled weakly as they arrived at the first booth they were slated to visit. This one of a Jiu-Jitsu club from a local university. The faces of the young twenty-somethings lit up as they recognized the world-renowned fighter in their midst.

  “Is that Jordan Vale?” one young man asked.

  “Hell yeah, it is!” another said, coming up to Jordan and offering his hand. Jordan returned it, and others came forward to greet their idol.

  Senna stood on the sideline, watching how Jordan reacted. His demeanor was a lot better now, and she could even see a smile escape his lips as his fans asked questions about specific matches or asked for tips on improving their technique or how to traiive how ton better.

  This definitely wasn’t the same angry, unmanageable, disappearing act of a fighter she’d initially been hired to work for. What was so different now?

  As Jordan was signing shirts, a small crowd began to gather around as word spread of the famous fighter at the event.

  That’s when things started feeling off.

  Senna couldn’t place it, but she could feel goose bumps creeping up her arm. A slight feeling of dread, like eyes were watching her. Senna spun around, hoping to see whoever it was, but all she saw were blank, unfamiliar faces in the crowd.

  I must be crazy, she thought to herself. Just my mind playing tricks on me.

  But the feeling wouldn’t go away. She continued to scan the crowd, and it still felt like someone, somewhere was following her every movement.

  “You all right?” a voice interrupted her. She let out a quiet gasp and then covered her mouth with embarrassment.

  “Jordan, you startled me,” Senna said, catching her breath.

  “I just figured we should probably get to the next group,” he said plainly.

  “Don’t sneak up on me like that again,” she said, holding her hand to her chest.

  “Is everything okay?” Jordan asked, sounding worried.

  “No, everything’s fine. Just got caught up thinking about something,” she lied.

  “If you say so,” Jordan said, starting to walk. Senna walked next to him, though keeping up with his long strides was often an exercise in futility.

  “Great job with your fans back there,” Senna complimented.

  “Thanks. They’re frankly a bunch of posers when it comes to fighting, but most of them seemed like good folks.”

  “Folks? Who says the word ‘folks’ anymore?” Senna joked, jabbing him with her elbow. Her arm met with rock-hard muscle, and she tried to hide her blush.

  “People do, of course. How dare you question my use of the word folks?” he joked back, sounding less stressed than earlier.

  Morning became afternoon as they went to the various booths promoting anything mixed martial arts related where fans of his or the sport might be. Once or twice, she could feel eyes watching her, but she just told herself it must be the crowd today.

  At one point, Jordan offered to grab a snack for her, and she agreed, not thinking about it.

  Within seconds of Jordan leaving, the feeling came back again. Only stronger this time. It was like an alarm going off inside of her head, warning her of imminent danger.

  Senna turned to where Jordan had headed, but he was gone, enveloped by the crowds around them. She started walking toward the direction she’d last thought she saw him go but became overwhelmed by an intense feeling of vertigo. She could swear she could hear steps moving when she moved, pausing when she paused. But everywhere she looked, all she saw was people passing, a few of them looking at her strangely, but all walking past her just the same.

  It’s happening all over again.

  She could feel herself reeling mentally. All of a sudden, she could hear all the noises coming from the crowds, like she was surrounded by voices. And in the midst of them, a silent pair of eyes. Watching her. Following her.

  “Senna? Senna?” Jordan was next to her now, looking at her, his dark crimson eyes worried. “Is everything all right?”

  She couldn’t respond. She felt herself locking up, unable to speak or think.

  In an instant, she was in his powerful arms, and he was carrying her through the crowd to his car, like she was floating.

  When they got to the car, he put her inside and turned on the A/C. By then, she felt safe and fare csafe an away from whoever, or whatever, had been following her. She felt safe as long as Jordan was around.

  “You doing any better?” Jordan asked, sitting in the driver’s seat of the car.

  “Yes. I think it was just the heat from the afternoon sun.” But she’d never had heat issues before in her life.

  “Guess I better not leave you alone out there again, then,” he said, trying to improve the mood. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s all right. It won’t happen again. I’ll let you know,” she said.

  But she couldn’t be sure when or if it would happen again because she didn’t know if the whole thing was a fluke or not.

  This had happened once before, but not in a long time.

  History had told her to follow her instincts, though

  .

  And her instincts told her this wasn’t over.

  3

  A couple days later, Senna was in her bedroom at Jordan’s house, though it still struck her odd that Jordan never actually used it and preferred sleeping in the spare room at the dojo instead.

  They had attended several events together, and she’d been impressed so far by how he had composed himself. He even avoided swearing during the interviews with newscasters, something he’d become famous for in the MMA community. She made sure to take notes as part of her evaluation to hand over to Ken.

  So far, things had been fairly uneventful. Thankfully, she hadn’t felt the same presence following her around at any of the other events. It was difficult because she knew the person was still out there, but it was hard not to feel safe with Jordan around most of the time.

  She had only one guess at who it was, but it had been years since they’d tried stalking her. Why now all of a sudden?

  The phone call from the other night also still bugged her. It felt like Jordan was hiding something from her, something potentially very important. Was he just waiting for the right time to tell her? Or was it really about someone else entirely?

  As she pondered, a breeze came through the window of her second-floor room. She moved to close it and then felt it again. Eyes. Somewhere out there. She scanned quickly, but the house was surrounded by a small field bordered by tall trees and the sun had gone down hours ago.

  She quickly closed the window, locked it, and drew the blinds. But she still felt creeped out, the kind of feeling you get when an insect has been crawling on you and even after you’ve swatted it off, it still feels like it’s there.

  Senna knew she should be safe, but right now, the large, quiet mansion felt foreboding and eerie. Its emptiness only scared her more.

  Plus, Jo
rdan would probably be at the dojo, training. He was always there, and she’d come to rely on that fact these past few days.

  She locked the door and went to her car just in front of the house, feeling hurried but not wanting to make a scene by rushing. She drove up to the dojo, only a couple minutes away, and saw the lights were on inside.

  Thank goodness.

  She walked in and saw Jordan in the middle of the floor, training by himself, his only company the lights and various punching bags. Each strike he made was powerful, intentional. As if it were the final blow in a match. He seemed driven by an inner force that was insatiable.

  Just being around him made her instantly feel better. Less alone, less worried.

  “So you really do train all the time, don’t you?” Senna called, waving toward Jost wrdan in the hopes it would draw his attention.

  “Oh, hey, Senna. What brings you in here so late?” Jordan turned to wave back at her.

  “Just came to check on you,” she said. “What are you doing up so late?”

  “Just training. You know, for when they let me back onto the team. After you’ve reformed me.” He gave her a dry smile.

  That’s right. When this was over, he’d go back to being a superstar and she’d go back to working with some other fighter that needed her help. The thought made her slightly sad for some reason.

  “You’ve been great the past few days, by the way,” she said, hoping to change the subject.

  He tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?”

  She leaned against the wall, keeping her distance. Now that she felt safe from the stalker, she was aware of the odd tension between them, a crackling electricity like something was about to break. “You’ve been coming to events and being downright bearable at them.”

  He laughed, a husky sound that affected her to the tips of her toes. “I try.”

  “You’re a night owl, aren’t you?” she asked, rubbing her arms to rid herself of the cold that still stuck with her. “And you like to be alone. You’re in here every night by yourself or out running who knows where when we’re not at a scheduled event. Tell me, Jordan Vale, do you always want to be alone?” she blurted out, trying to get the question out there before her courage failed her at the sight of those stoic, crimson eyes.

  His gaze never faltered. He just strutted up to her, not breaking eye contact. She could see fire in those eyes. Fire that probably burned for her. But she had no clue what to do about it.

  “It depends. If I find the right person, then no. I don’t want to always be alone.”

  By now he was standing right before her, and she almost had to lean back to be able to see up into his dark eyes, now glistening with the reflection of the bright dojo lights. A few stray strands of hair fell over his face, and she wanted to move a foot forward and touch him, see if those muscles felt as delicious as they looked.

  “And what about you, Senna Christy? Any plans for the future involving members of the opposite sex?” his voice was low, almost growling.

  “It also depends, if I find a man that can please me,” she said, trying not to gulp or lick her lips or do something stupid that would give her away. The sight of the man before her was entirely overwhelming. She could sense him, feel the heat radiating off his body, and scent something that smelled like a waterfall crashing over a pine-covered mountainside mixed with something that was purely masculine. Purely him.

  “Oh, so what does this man do to please you?” Jordan asked. He was inching closer, closer. His body felt like it was mere millimeters from hers. She could see the details of his eyes now, a liquid red-brown, almost the color of wine and just as intoxicating.

  This went against everything she stood for. All her professional compunctions and procedures.

  But she wanted him so badly.

  Kiss me, dammit.

  “What would he do?” Jordan asked quietly.

  “Well he… he…” She felt her voice catch in her throat. She couldn’t stand it any longer.

  He reached his hand behind her ear. She could feel his powerful fingers brush her hair ever so softly. The feeling was electric, and it shot down her spine and enlivened every nerve on her body, making her hyperaware of his touch.

  He’s going to do it! Is he going to do it? Please do it!

  She felt his fingers in her hair, but then all of a sudden, they were gone again.

  He brought his hand betox his hafore her, holding a small leaf.

  “You had something in your hair, Senna,” Jordan said, flicking the leaf away.

  “Oh… uh, thank you,” she said, trying to compose herself. What the hell, Jordan!

  “I’m done here. Come on. I’ll drive you back,” he said, tossing the leaf aside and walking off, as if it were all nothing.

  She felt all the air in her lungs come out in a huff. How long had she been holding her breath? She could hear the door close to the back exit, the one Jordan usually took.

  He had to have been feeling the same thing, right? It wasn’t just her. It was like the air was filled with an electric current generated by the proximity of their two bodies, and then it was gone.

  Well, fuck you, Jordan Vale.

  * * *

  The next day, Senna decided to take the morning off. Partly because they didn’t have anything scheduled until tomorrow and partly because she needed space away from Jordan Vale to clear her head.

  Last night had been the last straw. She needed a fresh pair of eyes on the whole situation. Her friend Tiffany was in town, so she called her so they could meet up for a late breakfast at a nearby diner.

  When Senna arrived, Tiffany was already seated at a table, looking as she always did. Like a thin, pristine blond newscaster, which she was. When she came up to the table, Tiffany jumped out of her seat, wrapping her arms around Senna.

  “So good to see you, Senna!” her friend said.

  “Good to see you too,” she replied, hugging her back.

  “So what are you doing out here?” Tiffany asked, motioning for Senna to take a seat so they could order.

  “I’m working with a new client who’s based out of the area. Not far from here, in fact,” she said, sitting and picking up a menu.

  “Really? What hunky man do you get to hang around this time?” Tiffany asked, her curiosity piqued.

  Senna paused, looking at the menu. Tiffany was always intensely curious about her career, mostly because she got to work with MMA fighters, though she’d never gotten involved with any of them.

  “It’s Jordan Vale,” Senna said under her breath.

  “What? The Jordan Vale?” Tiffany asked, her voice rising quickly, and then lowering again after it attracted curious looks from people sitting around them. “The one that’s taking a break at the height of his career?”

  Tiffany worked in broadcast media, and though she was still fairly low on the totem pole, she was well aware of things that happened in the news.

  “Not taking a break, just on hiatus. I’ve been working with him on improving his public image before he goes back on tour.”

  “Well, my oh my. And are you getting any “treats” on the side, if you know what I mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Senna could feel herself blushing but tried to blow it off by giving her order to the waitress, who took her menu. “What are you talking about?” she replied, hoping to sound innocent.

  “I’ve seen those posters of Jordan. I wouldn’t mind breaking off a piece of that KitKat bar,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “That’s one M&M that can melt in my mouth.”

  “Gross, Tiffany,” Senna scolded. “He’s a client.” But she felt oddly upset at the idea of Tiffany, or anyone, taking a piece of Jordan for themselves.

  “Just saying,” Tiffany said, putting up her hands.

  “Besides, I’m not really looking for anything right now anyway,” Senna added, justifying herself.

  “Honey, it’s been a while since you’ve had anything serious, right? Don’t youSen Don’ t
hink it’s time to take some chances?”

  “No, I don’t. I know exactly where that leads,” she heard herself say bitterly. There was an awkward pause as the both of them realized what she was referring to.

  Tiffany leaned over and put a comforting hand over her friend’s. “Senna, that was a long time ago. You deserve to be happy, honey,” she said softly.

  It hurt to hear those words. Hurt to think she’d been so wrong in the past. Hurt to know she could make the same mistakes again if she let her guard down. But her friend was just trying to be nice.

  “Thanks, Tiffany. That doesn’t mean I have any plans to get it on with one of my clients, but you might be right.”

  Tiffany smiled. It was good to have at least one person who understood.

  Senna sighed, gathering her courage. “The fact of the matter is I think there might be something there with Jordan, but he’s the most frustrating man I’ve ever met.”

  “What do you mean?” Tiffany asked.

  “It’s just, whenever I’m around him, I feel something… different. And last night, there was this moment when he got real close and I thought he was going to kiss me, and I actually wanted him to. And I don’t think it’s just because we’ve been spending lots of time together, though we have. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone.” She could feel her cheeks burning red as she explained.

  “Wow. Do you know how he feels about you?” she said.

  “I have no clue. Part of me does; part of me thinks he’s just playing games. Ugh, I sound like a teenage girl pining over the cute boy in gym class,” Senna said, aggravated. She buried her hands in her arms to hide from the embarrassment.

  After a moment, there was a soft poke of her shoulder.

  “I know, I know. I should just tell the damn guy how I feel,” she said, her words muffled.

  There was another soft nudge.

  “Sorry, Tiffany, it was just a long night last ni…” she trailed off and looked up. Tiffany was still sitting across from her but looking up, wide-eyed, at someone standing next to Senna.

  Tiffany turned and saw dark, sexy eyes peering down at her.