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“I can wait to get in the ring until the baby is born.” She says softly while rubbing her flat stomach. “I could just learn and practice for now. I only know some self-defense. Elena knows how to fight, why can't I?”
Massimo pulls her away from my side. He pulls her close and brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Because you don't need to.”
“Why, because I won’t be kidnapped? Been there.” She grumbles. “Done that.”
“Liv....” He beings to scold, though there isn’t any real heat in his voice.
“No Mass. I get that you want to protect me.”
“I will protect you.” He replies adamantly.
“I know. But I’d like to have the security of knowing I can put up a good fight.” He’s caving. You can see the tight muscles in his jaw relaxing.
“I can teach you some things.” I pipe in. Then, before Massimo can remind me she's pregnant, I continue., "No impact. Just technique, combinations. We could watch some of the guys and I can give her pointers on seeing weaknesses.”
“Yes!” She shouts while Massimo says “maybe.”
Livianna grabs his faces and plants a kiss on his lips. It gets heated quickly. Ripping his lips from hers, Massimo grabs her waist and helps her over the ropes and onto the floor.
I follow suit, ripping the tape off my hands as I head over to my discarded shirt. I can feel the stares on me. The men are no doubt whispering about my scars and making assumptions about how I got them. They probably think what I allow everyone to believe. That I got them fighting. I turn my back so I don’t have to deal with it yet. It’s childish, but whatever. I don’t owe them an explanation. I’m still their prisoner.
“Keira.” His voice is barely above a whisper and I freeze. Then a hand is on my shoulder. Turning me to face him. “Keira. My Keira.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Val
HOW THE HELLdid I not recognize her? She was once the only one I saw. In a room full of people I could pinpoint her in seconds. It’s like my body was attuned to hers. In a way it still is. I had felt an instant attraction to her when the fog had cleared from my head and I could think straight again. Since she refused to be in the room with me longer than she had to, and wouldn’t look me in the eye, I had chalked my attraction up to her being a beautiful woman who was nursing me back to health.
Seeing her now. In the ring, throwing kicks and dodging jabs with Massimo, my heart stopped. My girl was not a violent person. What the fuck happened? What has she been through the last few years?
I stalk closer to her. That’s when I see it. The scars. The numerous raised bumps along her back. A few look deeper than the others and have a pink tint to them. Fury builds in my gut. Someone hurt my girl.
Fuck. I allowed her to be in a position for her to be hurt. I was supposed to protect her. I should have gone after her. I failed her. Never again.
Never. Fucking. Again. She’s never leaving me again. I don’t care if she has a man, husband, or fuck buddy. As of this moment, they are done. She’s mine, and I don’t share. I lost seven years with her. I won’t lose another minute.
Their fight is over. Livianna’s talking to her. I can’t hear a word that is said. My mind is swirling with ideas on how to keep her. Ways to punish those who hurt her.
Santo.
That bastard had something to do with this. I know it. He’s lucky he’s dead. The ideas for retribution swirling in my head would make even the devil nervous.
Without a doubt, I know it’s her. Same emerald eyes, same button nose, and heart-shaped face, though missing the baby fat she once had on her cheeks. It’s my mark that confirms it. The tattoo she got that declared her mine. We had it done the week of finals. She has the Caruso insignia along with my name below it “Tino”. She hadn’t known what it meant then. She trusted me to pick it out for her. Just like I trusted her to pick out mine. A black rose on my chest. Above my heart with her name etched into the stem.
She steps out of the ring. I need to feel her. Touch her. I need my hands on her to be sure she’s real. That she’s not a ghost.
Slowly I move to her. “Keira.” I place a hand on her shoulder and spin her to face me. “My Keira.” The words come out in a whisper.
She rips out of my hold, and turns to walk away from me. It’s then that I see it. The tattoo isn't the same, or rather it is, but it is disfigured. A large scar runs through it.
“You tried to erase me?” I can’t contain the anger in my voice. Not only did she run from me, but she fucking tried to erase my mark.
She stops and turns to face me again. Folding her arms across her chest. “If I had had a choice I would have done a better job?” She replies dryly.
“What?”
“You think I wanted to be sliced and diced? That I asked for this?” Her voice is raised. Not yet a scream. I can feel the anger pouring off of her. She yanks the shirt off her head again, and turns to show me her back again. “You think I wanted to be attacked in my apartment? To have to go on the run, and spend a year on the streets?”
