Page 3 of Bought By Three Men

“Seems dangerous for pretty girls to be beating the crap out of each other. Why do you do it?” Mr. No Smiles asked.

Von hobbled into the room and slapped me on the back. It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if I had not been in three fights. The damn man hit like a small child. “Nice job out there. I almost thought there wasn’t gonna be a fight.”

“There shouldn’t have been,” Dottie snapped. “You gotta stop putting her in so many fights.”

“Everyone loves her. If she isn’t in a fight, I don’t get nearly as many bets.” Von reached into his pocket and handed me two bills.

I stared down at the two hundred dollars. I knew I had taken a brutal hit to the head, but it wasn’t adding up. He was short on my money, and I was in no mood to argue with him. “Von, I’m not doing this today. Where is the rest?”

“I gave you the money for the other fights.” Von looked genuinely confused.

“Right, and this fight was triple. Where is the rest?” Dottie stepped in front of me and got in Von’s face. She wasn’t a fighter, but she was protective over the people she cared about, which was a concise list.

“Oh,” He waved his hand dismissively. “That was part of the act. Ava knows that.”

My mouth dropped. That jerkass was trying to swindle me.

Mr. Tattoos grabbed Von by the throat and slammed him into the lockers. He moved so fast I hadn’t even realized it was him. The crash from the lockers made Dottie squeal. Violence always bothered her, yet she came with me every week to the club.

“You aren’t trying to cheat this little lady out of money?” Mr. Tattoos slammed him again. “Are you Von?”

The way he spoke to him was as if he knew him. The tone of his voice made it sound like he didn’t like him very much. As much as I loved someone giving it to Von, I had to step in. It wasn’t Mr. Tattoos’ place to defend me. It was no one’s but my own. Plus, I needed Von. He paid the most out of any fight clubs in New Boston.

“Get off of him,” I demanded. My voice came out squeaky and strained, entirely unlike how I intended.

Dottie tried to keep me from getting up. I waved her hands away and only swayed a little.

The men completely ignored me. Mr. No Smiles glared at me while the other two men had a stare-down contest. To Von’s credit, he kept his ground as he stared into the eyes of Mr. Tattoos. Well, Von tried to. He was much shorter and smaller than the other man. It looked like a child being defiant against his dad.

“Let go of him.” I grabbed Mr. Tattoos’ arm. Okay, no one should be that muscular. I may have given it an extra squeeze, totally on accident.

“Would you rather I grab you?” Mr. Tattoos looked me up and down. He spent a little too much time on my chest. I was rethinking the low-cut pink tank top and hot pink mini shorts.

“I would rather you leave.” I pointed at the door.

“Ava, it’s fine. Mr. Moore and I are just having a little chat.” Von whispered. His face was getting redder by the second.

Moore? The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. He was rich, and they weren’t as well known as the elite. Maybe he had shown up here before, and I had heard his name. Doubtful. Someone like him would be hard to forget.

“Moore? Like Moore Tech?” Dottie bounced on her heels. “That means you’re Mitchell Moore’s kid. Ahh, you’re Ethan Moore. Ican’tbelieveitsyoucanItalktoyouIhavesomanyquestions.” If she didn’t take a breath, she would pass out.

Moore Tech. That meant he was elite. What was he doing in a club like this?

The arrogant asshole released Von and smiled at Dottie. “That’s me. If you wanna come by my office, I would happily show you around.”

Dottie squealed.

“The fuck you will!” I snapped.

Mr. No Smiles grabbed his shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

“Dude.” Mr. Moore took a step back. “I’m offended. I know she looks like a teenager. I was trying to be nice.”

“She is a teenager. She’s seventeen.” I pushed on Mr. Moore’s chest. He didn’t budge.

“She shouldn’t be around a place like this. Where are her parents?” Mr. No Smiles asked.

The question stung. It may have seemed like a simple enough question. Although asking the way he did implied she needed parental supervision or had no parents. That was only partially true. Our mother lost her grip on reality a long time ago. As far as our father, he was dead, and that was my fault.

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