Senna arrived to the event unaccompanied. He had insisted she stay Cted to attruntil the fight, just so he could keep an eye on her as long as possible. But he’d stayed in a room far from hers, where he could keep watch over the house, so this was the first he’d seen of her since yesterday.
She wore the same formal-looking blouse and skirt as when he’d first met her. It seemed ironic they had come full circle, back to where they’d started.
It made him angry. But even in spite of it, her luscious curves teased him at every glance. Made him painfully aware of her.
“Mr. Vale,” she said, nonplussed.
“Ms. Christy,” he replied dryly.
“So are you excited?” Ken asked, coming up to them and interrupting their staring contest. “Now remember, just make sure to give them a good fight. I had to pull a lot of strings to get these TV stations to even consider coming, so if you kill their time slots by finishing the fight in one punch again, you can pretty much consider your career over.”
“Yes, please don’t waste all the time we had to spend working on your public image by ruining this,” Senna said. She sounded formal, businesslike, but he could sense a twinge of regret in her voice at her mention of their time together.
Maybe his wolf was just trying to hear what it wanted to hear though.
“If you’d like to be seated, I’ve saved spots for the two of us right there in the front row.” Ken pointed to two front-row seats with a perfect view of the fight, and she went off to take one.
As she walked over to her seat, alone, Jordan was painfully aware of the openness of the arena and the nameless crowds surrounding everything. If the stalker knew she was with Jordan, they would know she was here.
Whether they were going to be together or not, Jordan could never let anything happen to her.
He would never stop wanting to protect her.
Ken turned to go sit as well, but Jordan grabbed him, surprising him.
“Ken, if I could ask a personal favor,” he said under his breath, hoping to not draw Senna’s attention.
“Sure, whatever you need,” he replied.
“Just, during and after the fight, there are a lot of people here. Could you keep an eye on Senna for me? Just make sure she’s safe,” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound ridiculous but unable to put it out of his mind.
“Of course. I won’t leave her side. You just take care of what you need to and give the people a good show. Draw it out. Give them something to cheer for. I’ll take care of Ms. Christy,” he said with a smile.
Jordan was satisfied with that. If the stalker was here, they’d be no match for Ken. Ken might be smaller and shorter than Jordan, but he was a shifter, and no human was a match for a shifter with training like Ken had. He was, after all, an MMA team manager.
Jordan just had to focus on this fight and get back to his career. Any attempts to persuade Senna right now would just make her think he was like her ex, a monster who didn’t listen or care about her feelings.
He’d just have to win the fight and then he could continue thinking about his next move in making Senna his mate.
A bell sounded, and Jordan’s name was called.
He walked up to the ring and went inside.
The crowd roared.
Jordan wished it were over already.
* * *
While waiting for the fight, Senna was resolute. She’d watch this match and then leave this city and her stalker and Jordan Vale behind her. Hopefully forever.
Somehow, she doubted she’d ever be able to forget him though.
The moderately sized crowd was very receptive seeing Jordan in the ring. Hopefully, C. Hforall the time they’d spent doing interviews, networking, and trying to give him a better reputation had worked.
But seeing Jordan up there, wearing only his gloves and shorts, she couldn’t help but ache for his touch again. She desired him still so badly, and she knew her wolf did too.
“Ms. Christy?” She heard Ken leaning toward her, speaking just barely loud enough for her to hear him over the crowd. “May I speak with you in private for a moment? It’s about the contract and your payment. I’d rather not talk money in public.”
“Isn’t the match about to start?” Senna replied, puzzled.
“It looks like they need to reset the PA system,” he said, pointing to several technicians working at a tangle of wires coming from a small metal box at the base of the ring. “And this will only take a few moments. I promise.”
“Sure, just as long as we’re back in time for the fight.” Senna wanted to see Jordan’s body in motion one last time, a memory for the many times she’d watched him working out at his dojo, admiring every corded muscle working in tandem across his beautiful frame.
As she and Ken got up to go down a side hallway reserved for fighters and managers only, Senna saw Jordan turn and look down at them as he waited in the ring.
“One second,” Senna mouthed and held up one finger, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the crowd’s murmuring in anticipation of the fight. She’d be right back.
Jordan looked confused, then nodded slowly, appearing hesitant about the whole thing. He pointed at her, then pointed at the seat, as if to say, I expect you back in that chair soon. At least that’s how Senna read it.
She followed Ken down the lit hallway, noticing how empty it was. Probably because it led to the locker rooms and the exclusive parking reserved for fighters and their immediate staff. Everyone else was in the ring, readying for the fight, so it made sense.
“So how has it been working with Jordan?” he asked as they reached the small locker room where fighters prepped prior to their matches.
“Uh, pretty good. I guess. He was cooperative, at least with me,” Senna said, unsure how to respond.
“That’s good to hear,” he said, stopping abruptly and turning to her. Senna noticed probably for the first time how tall he really was, at least compared to her. Every other time she’d seen him the past couple weeks, it had been around Jordan, who was even taller and more built.
“Now, as for your employment, I have just one last thing to ask of you before we consider your contract fulfilled,” he said, blue eyes looking down at her. They seemed oddly cold despite his previous joviality at having Jordan back in the ring.
“And that would be?” Senna asked, hoping to get back before the fight started.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t struggle.”
* * *
The technicians working on whatever was wrong with the sound system were finally starting to look like they were finished, and the fight was about to start.
The only thing was Senna hadn’t come back yet.
Ken was gone as well, but he rarely sat and watched Jordan’s fights. He was usually off schmoozing a potential sponsor or scouting out other fighters in attendance at matches.
Senna should be safe, but Jordan was far beyond worried at this point. What if Ken had left her alone and something happened? What if they split up and she was in danger?
Jordan shook his head. He knew the low likelihood that a so-far unseen stalker would choose such a crowded place to make a move. But he couldn’t shake a feeling of dread for her.
The announcer came back Cer wed. onto the stand and once again stated the names of the two fighters in attendance to a roaring, if impatient, crowd.
Jordan’s opponent was a mostly nobody, Joe something-or-other, probably some up-and-coming fighter who stood to gain something from getting in the ring with Jordan, whether they won or lost.
His opponent would lose, of course. But Joe didn’t know that for sure yet.
But Jordan’s eyes were fixed on the empty seat in the front row. Every second that went by drove him mad with worry.
He wasn’t normally an anxious person, but this had him on pins and needles. Every possible scenario was going through his head. What if she got injured somehow and was in a coma this very instant? What if her stalker had been able to subdue Ken an
d had her in his clutches right now?
He tried to focus his thoughts on the match that was about to start, but everything about this felt off. His intuition was yelling at him, telling him to go after her.
And his intuition was much stronger than the average shifter.
It was then Jordan came to a realization. He looked at the gloves on his hands, glanced at his opponent looking ready for the bell to ding any second now.
None of this mattered compared to Senna Christy.
He loved MMA. It was his life. It had been his best coping mechanism as a kid and his only passion as an adult. But if drawing out the fight could mean any chance of Senna coming to harm, even if it was the most infinitesimally small probability, he would give it up.
Senna was everything to Jordan. She’d brought him back into the world when he was ready to shrink away from it and give up. Had helped him be more comfortable with being around people, with interacting with them. Had shown him by her example people weren’t at all what they seemed on the surface. Had given him the best memories and experiences of his entire life.
Just one minute with Senna was more valuable than all the belts, awards, accolades, money, or fame MMA had brought to him put together.
It was a decision he could never reverse. But as the possibilities played out in his head, all he could do was make his decision and follow his heart.
The bell dinged, signaling the start of the match.
“Sorry,” Jordan said to the opponent across from him.
“For what?” the young but capable-looking fighter asked quizzically.
“For this.” Jordan took a quick step forward and leapt off the ground, arm cocked all the way back. His opponent was fast, putting his arms up to protect himself. But he was a hair too late, and Jordan’s fist drove past his upraised arms and into Joe’s face, sending him flying backward across the ring and into the corner.
The crowd fell silent. A bored-looking ref went over and gave the countdown. Joe was fine but out cold. The announcer picked up the mic that he’d just put down a moment ago and dryly announced Jordan as the winner.
But Jordan was already gone, having hopped the cage before they even had a chance to unlock it, and bolting down the hallway where he’d last seen Senna go.
Jordan’s mind was racing. All he could think of was Senna and finding her this very second, wherever she was. All he wanted right now was to know she was safe. For her
to know he would come for her, no matter what.
He followed Senna’s scent as it trailed down to the locker room. She’d been here recently, so why hadn’t she come back?
He smelled fear in the air. Her fear. Why was she afraid?
Then he smelled Ken’s scent.
Shit.
9
Senna tried to struggle against Ken’s grip around her arm, tried to yell out for help, but the hallway leading out into the private lot was deserted. And with the noise from the crowds, she doubted anyone would ever hear her.
Jordan’s match had probably started by now. She wondered what was going through his mind. Did he even suspect anything?
“Stop fighting and I’ll go nicer on you,” Ken said, his voice cold and harsh.
“Why are you doing this?” Senna blurted out.
“Ever since I met you that first time, when you and I discussed hiring you, I knew something wasn’t right. That something about you was off. But I could never put a finger on it. Not until I got that call from Jordan, telling me what he thought you were. Can’t believe he was the first to figure it out.”
“What do you mean? Figure what out?”
“That you’re an unmated shifter female. Pretty hard to come across these days. Very desirable. And once a wolf mates you, you’re his, so I’ve been watching you and waiting for an opportunity. But Jordan wouldn’t leave your side for an instant. And from the looks of things, Jordan got pretty close to having you for his own, didn’t he? So I figured I’d have to make my move before it was too late.”
So Ken was a shifter like Jordan? Jordan had never mentioned it, and the sudden realization that she wasn’t being taken by some ordinary man, but a shifter with the kind of strength Jordan had, made her heart race even faster.
“And this whole thing was just a setup to keep Jordan busy?” she choked out.
“You bet. He knows I don’t care to watch his fights anyway. Not with his piss-poor showmanship,” he said, annoyed.
“But Jordan expects me back at the fight. How do you think he’ll take that?”
“Oh, I’ll just tell him you couldn’t bear to watch him fight, so you took a cab to the airport and caught the first flight out of here,” he said, pulling her forward. “He’ll never find you where I’m taking you,” he added menacingly.
They were in a small, self-enclosed lot that only had a couple cars in it. Probably because there was only one fight scheduled for today, and it was a relatively small one, so there wouldn’t be anyone else using this entrance.
Senna tried to yell again, but Ken covered her mouth forcefully. The only answer was the sound of cars outside and the dull noise coming from the hallway they’d just left.
“Nobody can hear you. I made sure to plan this on a day nobody else would be back here,” he said, removing his hand and pulling out his keys. The trunk to the car they were facing popped open, and Senna dreaded the thought of being locked inside.
And what seemed to be inevitably coming after that.
“Ken!” a voice yelled from behind them, low and masculine and echoing off the walls of the indoor parking lot.
Ken whirled around, holding Senna close to him, not letting his grip slacken.
“You two-faced son of a bitch.” It was Jordan, striding powerfully toward them. He was still wearing his clothes from the fight, and he looked more furious than she would have ever thought possible.
How did he get here so quickly?
“What are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be in the ring,” Ken said, trying to sound authoritative.
“Shut it, asshole,” he said, his pace not slackening. All the muscles in his arms and chest were tensed, like a jaguar seconds from pouncing on its prey.
Or like an alpha wolf.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice, Vale,” Kice="2em"> Ken said, pulling something out of his back pocket. Senna heard a click and a sharp point grazed her neck.
A knife.
Jordan stopped where he was, no more than six or seven feet from them, but he didn’t back down an inch from where he stood.
“That’s not going to save you from the worst ass kicking you’re ever going to receive, bastard. I swear I’m going to punch you so hard you’ll be pissing teeth for weeks.”
“Very funny,” Ken said, sounding shaken by the intimidating sight of Jordan. “Now if you don’t mind, we have somewhere to be going right now.”
“You’re not going anywhere unless it’s in a fucking body bag,” he threatened, pointing at Ken menacingly. It was clear the threat wasn’t empty.
His crimson eyes were alight with fury, almost glowing in the faint parking lot light.
“You’d never get to me before I killed her,” Ken said, bringing the knife close to Senna’s neck.
Jordan glared at Ken with cool confidence that Senna almost found unnerving. But he was also angry. She could feel it radiating from him in waves, and she knew without a doubt he was going to get her out of the situation, even if she didn’t know how.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, dickwad?” Jordan grated out.
“What?” Ken goaded, not backing down.
“I’m the king of one-punch wins.”
Then Jordan rushed forward in a motion so quick it was like a bolt of lightning, grabbing the length of the blade with one hand and throwing his other hand so powerfully into Ken’s face that Senna could feel the whoosh of the air past her and the force of the impact into Ken’s face. It sounded with a loud crack that reverberate
d off the walls.
Ken’s grip slackened as he was thrown backward, and Senna ducked under his arms and behind Jordan, who’d pulled the knife from Ken’s grip and was now holding it in his hand. He tossed it aside and moved toward Ken without pausing.
It was clear Jordan’s fist had hit with perfect precision. Ken had been knocked back against the car, and as he tried to stand up from where he was, he toppled and keeled over onto the ground face first, completely out.
Jordan turned to Senna. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” he asked, checking her over with his hands, concern bright in his eyes.
Senna shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thank you,” she replied, still shaken.
Jordan had come for her. He’d deserted his fight in the face of direct orders from his boss and his benefactors and had found her. Rescued her.
Given up everything to make her safe again.
Despite everything, Jordan had never said he loved her.
But if what he’d just done wasn’t love, Senna didn’t know what was.
While she was thinking, Jordan turned and went over to Ken, pulling a phone from Ken’s back pocket and dialing 9-1-1. Senna could hear him giving a brief description of what had happened, and then he threw the phone onto the pile that was Ken’s unmoving body.
He turned and walked back to her. “Let’s get you home right now,” he said seriously. “Before any more crazy shit happens. I want you where I know you’re safe.”
“But, Jordan, what about the fight? Your career?”
“None of that matters to me now. Nothing is more important, or ever will be more important, than you are to me, Senna.” He paused a moment. “I love you.”
Jordan’s words only further verified what was already crystal clear to her. This man would give anything for her. And she would give anything for this man too.
Alpha Hero (Wolf Protectors #2) Page 9
