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going to kill her. Or you,” he added. “She’s skilled, and I know she wants to—”
“You know fuck all about my girlfriend, so shut the hell up.”
“I know that she’s booked to fight a week from now, and if she’s not there, her safety isn’t only in danger. She’s as good as dead.”
Denials heavily laced with curse words clogged in my throat. There was no ignoring the intensity in his gaze. If he was lying, he was a damn good actor. And if I stopped and thought about it, I couldn’t figure out why he’d bother. What did he have to gain from Mia fighting? Assuming she wasn’t going to fight him.
And that wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
“A week,” I repeated. “She hasn’t been training professionally for seven months, and you think I can get her back up to fighting speed in seven days.”
Even as I said it, I knew I was just blowing smoke. Mia hadn’t let up on her training. She’d cut back no more than a workout or two a week. All along, I’d told myself she was just used to the routine. I hadn’t wanted to face the fact that she’d continue to train that hard because she wanted to be ready. Because she missed it.
I hadn’t wanted her back in the ring, so I’d pretended not to see the signs that she yearned to be there.
Then there was the tattoo. Now this. I knew if I told Mia she needed to fight, she might argue strenuously with the reasons why, but she’d never resist getting back in the octagon. I might, but she never would.
“She didn’t seem out of shape to me,” he said, and this time he grinned while I set my teeth. The bastard fucking grinned. “You really are a jealous fuck, aren’t you?”
“No. I just don’t like you.”
“Noted. You need to ditch Evie, and spend that time with Mia. She needs to be ready.”
“What does Evie have to do with this? Even if Mia agrees, I could still—”
“Evie is who she’s going to fight,” he interrupted smoothly, pulling his phone out of the charger as it beeped. He gave it a quick glance and tucked it in the pocket of his track pants. “Hand her off to someone else.”
“Wait a second. Evie is going to fight Mia? Says who?” A laugh exploded out of my chest. “Does Evie know this? She just started training yesterday.”
“They’ll be in contact with her. I have no doubt she’ll agree to the fight. They know she’s hungry, and she fits what they’re looking for.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“A beautiful, experienced female fighter who is talented enough to draw in the serious devotees of the sport, as well as the ones who get hard dicks from watching chicks kick ass. They make their money off of both types.” Giovanni shrugged. “Mia and Evie are two of the best.”
“Evie fought overseas until she got hurt. She’s not up to speed again yet. She’s good,” I acknowledged, “and she’ll get back where she needs to be fairly fast, but she’s not prepared to fight in a week.”
“I wouldn’t write Evie off. But if she’s not up to speed, it’ll help Mia.” He pulled his keys out of the ignition. “If she wins easily, all the better. Then she can go back to—”
“Back to what? You know it doesn’t work like that. When you get the buzz from a fight in your blood, it doesn’t go away that easily.”
“It does if you truly don’t want to fight in the first place.”
When I didn’t respond, he shook his head. “You know that’s not going to last forever. If she wants to fight and you’re discouraging her, it’s going to be a problem.” He held up a hand as I shifted toward him. “Not my concern. What you do in your relationship is your call. But Mia needs to be prepared to put on a good show. I vouched for her.”
“You vouched for Mia.” The idea was as patently ridiculous as the rest of this conversation. “To these supposedly dangerous men who are hanging out with you at strip clubs with guns in their waists in between goading women into fights for them to bet on.”
“That’s not all they’re into. Not by a long shot.”
He didn’t elaborate. I didn’t expect him to.
I stared straight ahead, watching as Mia’s old nemesis Vanity and a couple of her girls laughed and shoved each other on their way into the gym. Giovanni had been part of some gossip where Vanity was concerned recently, but just then I couldn’t give a shit who he fought or fucked.
“One fight is supposed to erase this so-called debt she’s incurred with them,” I said finally, when the heaviness in the truck outweighed the pressure in my head. “She does this, and she’s free and clear. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure about that?”
