Fight For Her (MMA Fighter Romance Book 1) Page 17

  I remained quiet as Casale talked, listening and watching. I’d dealt with some bad people, some bad shit, but this was outside of my comfort zone. The men were organized and calm as if this kind of thing was something they did frequently. I wanted my hands on the fucker, but finding him was up to Casale.

  The second place we went turned out to be a few blocks from the clinic. I knew of her volunteer work and where the building was, but at night, being driven by it with men carrying guns, this wasn't a place I wanted Emory on her own. She wouldn’t be driving to the place on her own anymore. We parked in front of a row house that was rundown, the one next door vacant and abandoned.

  A light was on in the front window, the blue flicker of a TV indicating someone was home. Frank rang the doorbell and the fucker had answered it. Gangbangers didn't ring the bell so he probably thought he was safe. It seemed too easy. I’d wanted a chase, a fight, something, but he was just a dead-beat low life who pissed his pants at the sight of Casale and his men pushing him back into his living room.

  “This is him?” I asked. I wanted to beat the shit out of the right person.

  “Dante, we've met before,” Casale said, his voice low and even.

  Casale gave a little swipe with his fingers and he and his men went back outside, giving me a minute alone with the asshole without being asked.

  “You broke into a house the last night.”

  His eyes widened in his gaunt face, his hands shaking.

  “The woman who had to climb down a fucking rope ladder to get away from you? Yeah, she's mine.”

  I punched him and he fell to his knees, blood splattering from his nose, dripping like a leaky faucet. While it had felt good, he was a worthless piece of shit. He cried, actually cried when confronted with breaking into Emory’s house.

  “Dude, she wouldn’t give over the scripts,” he said, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off his face.

  “So you break into her house. What were you planning to do?”

  He held up his hands as if to ward me off. His eyes were wide and wild and I recognized a guy hyped on drugs, on meth, and he was flying now. “Just scare her, that’s all, man.”

  Just scare her. Right. If he was high in Emory’s house like he was now, he wouldn’t have stopped at finding her keys or a script pad and leaving. He’d gone up the stairs looking for Emory. Turned on the light. Shouted for her. He was either a complete dumbass or had intended to kill her…and other things first. My anger flared back to life.

  “Do you know who I am?” I growled. For once, I wanted someone to recognize me.

  He nodded.

  “Who am I?” I asked. I wanted confirmation that he knew it wasn't just Casale who was watching out for Emory.

  “The…The Green Machine.” Good, he knew who he was facing now.

  “Yeah, and like I said, Emory’s my woman.” When he stood and started to back away from me, not just in fear, but absolute terror, I continued. “I’d say I’m a more matched fight than a woman, don’t you?”

  I cracked my knuckles and I saw him swallow.

  “You wanted to just scare her? Well, dude, I don’t plan on just scaring you.” I stepped toward him and sought the retribution I wanted.

  Five minutes later, I met Casale on the front steps and Frank tossed me a rag while the other men went in to retrieve the guy. I wiped the blood from my knuckles as the fucker was dragged out of the hovel he called home and tossed into the backseat of the second SUV. One of the men held up his hands and I tossed the rag to him. He walked over and leaned against the car, face impassive, waiting for direction from Casale.

  The air was heavy and I was sweating from my exertions, but the night was still. Only the far-off hum of the highway and a distant siren broke the quiet. If someone wanted to cause trouble, they'd take one look at our little group and run the other way. I shook Casale’s hand. “I’m done here.”

  “Yes. Frank will take you back to your car.” Beating the shit out of someone was one thing. What Casale intended to do with the guy was out of my league and I wanted nothing to do with it. Casale didn't want me involved either, which was fine with me. As Casale walked over to the SUV with bloodied Dante, his man moved to open the door for him. They both climbed in then drove away, leaving me alone with Frank.

  “I thought my dad was fucked up,” I told him, watching the brake lights fade away, “but yours is scary as shit.”

  EMORY

  I had no idea how late Gray would be, but I forced myself to stay awake and decided watching TV would work, but it had taken a half an hour to figure out how to use his remote and work the complex, very male electronic system. By the time I heard the elevator doors whoosh open, I had practically lost my mind from really bad cable. I hopped up and saw him over the back of the couch. He looked…perfect.

  He toed off one shoe, then the other, walking into the kitchen. He scrubbed his hands, flicked off the water and dried with a dish towel. I didn't think too hard about why he needed to clean up. He didn’t seem hurt at all, no cuts or bruises, but there was a stain, something that looked like blood, on his shirt. I wasn’t going to ask what had happened because right now, I didn’t care. He was fine and he was here.

  “Gray,” I almost sobbed, relief washing over me with a strong pulse of adrenaline.

  His hardened gaze softened and he held out his arms. I ran around the couch and launched myself at him, our mouths meeting. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my dress riding up my thighs. His hands cupped my bottom as he turned and walked down the hall to his room, carrying me as if I weighed nothing. He put one knee on the bed and lowered me down onto my back, never breaking the kiss.

  This was desperate and frantic, the need almost feral. My hands worked at the buttons on Gray’s shirt, getting it off of him and tossing it onto the floor. We rolled so that Gray could slide the zipper of my dress down my back. He worked the dress down and off me, tossing it onto the floor, his motions just as eager as mine. But then he paused and my hands stopped working on his belt. He was looking down at me, his breath ragged.

  “What?” I asked.

  He brushed a hand over the swell of my breast. “Pink and lacy.” His voice was dark and guttural.

  Pushing off the bed, he stood and looked down at me, his eyes heated, his lips slick. “I love you.”

  I sucked in a breath at his words. It was not what I expected to hear, but exactly what I wanted. I came up and onto my knees before him. “Gray, I…this is insane.” I brushed my hair back from my face, ran a palm down his bare chest. “I love you, too.”

  His eyes flared and he took a step back. I let my hand fall to my side. “Why?”

  I frowned. “Why do I love you? Why do you love me?”

  He shook his head in dismay. “The first time I saw you, it was like I’d been sucker punched. You smiled at that bartender making you the fake gin and tonic and I was jealous. Jealous! I wanted you to smile like that at me. And when you did, that first time, I fell in love right then and there.”

  I couldn’t help the smile or the tears. Gray’s beautiful face blurred and I didn’t see him step closer and wipe the tears that streamed down my cheeks away. “Shh, don’t be sad.”

  A watery laugh escaped. “Sad? I’m happy, you idiot!”

  “I’m not an idiot, I’m just distracted by you in your pink and lace.”

  The tears disappeared and I flushed as his gaze raked over me.

  I continued to watch him as I brought my hands up to my breasts, cupped them. His pupils dilated and he licked his lips. “Baby, what are you doing?”

  “That bartender? I gave him a smile. You? I’m giving you everything.”

  “Everything?” Gray repeated, closing the distance between us.

  As I undid the front clasp of my new bra, I said, “Everything.”

  EPILOGUE

  EMORY

  The event center was packed, the noise obscenely loud. I had no idea a night of MMA fighting was something like a concert, with f
ancy lighting, blasting music and dramatic entrances. While I knew the basic rules of a fight—I couldn’t be a MMA coach’s girlfriend without knowing something—having Chris and Simon guide me through each match was a big help. Reed’s was the fight of the night, so it was last in the lineup. Needless to say I was nervous. Nervous for Reed even though he’d been training hard, and nervous for Gray. Neither of them needed it based on what Chris told me, but I couldn’t help it. Even with all the hours and hours of hard practices, it was still a fight and I didn’t want Reed to get hurt. Perhaps it was the mother in me thinking it, but based on what I'd seen so far, I had good reason. Eyebrows had split open, noses smashed, kidneys hit, solid leg kicks. It was hard not to wince at the amount of blood and I worked in the ER. I was just thrilled Gray’s fighting days were behind him and he was now on the sidelines.

  Even though Chris was beside me—he'd been given a pass from the Academy to join me—I realized I, like Gray, was on the sidelines, the sidelines of my son's life. Gray had moved on from his fighting days and I’d moved on from mothering a child. Chris might still be my baby, my six-foot-plus baby, but he was an adult now. Oh, I’d verbally kick his ass if he needed it, but I had no doubt he got plenty of that at the Naval Academy. So I just enjoyed his presence, being here with me, even in his fancy uniform. For me and for Gray.

  I hadn’t told Chris about Gray before we arrived at Parents’ Weekend and it turned out he knew all about The Green Machine, and so had many of his classmates. While he’d been impressed with Gray’s fighting career, he’d been more concerned about how he treated me. It had been fun watching Gray squirm a little, for he knew Chris came first with me and his opinion was crucial. After my assurance that Gray was worthy of my attentions, Chris had stood down, although I had no doubt he'd be waiting for him to mess up. Even at eighteen, he was prepared to protect me from a man who fought professionally. If fists were involved, there would be no contest, but I was proud of Chris for being ready to take him on any way. I’d fought back tears because neither guy would have understood the reasoning for them and instead smiled. After that show of testosterone, we’d gone out for lunch in Annapolis and it had gone…well. Really, really well.

  That had been a month ago. Since then, I’d spent most of my nights at Gray’s apartment. At first I’d had no interest in returning to my row house, scared of another maniac breaking in. Even though Gray and Mr. Casale had reassured me the man wouldn’t bother me again, I’d been wary. I also wanted to be with Gray. My place was with him and he made that very clear night after night, and sometimes during the day, too.

  Reed beat his opponent in the second round with an arm bar. It had happened too fast for me to see, but I had to admit, my focus had been on Gray. He'd shouted to Reed from outside the cage, his attention razor sharp on every move his fighter made. I loved that intensity about him, especially when it was focused on me.

  When he’d gone into the cage when they lifted Reed’s arm in triumph over his opponent, Gray turned and looked for me in the crowd. He grinned and gave me a wink. This was his moment, his time to shine, and he’d taken a moment to stop and think about me, to turn and share it with me. Chris nudged me and Simon rolled his eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin that escaped. It couldn’t get any better than this.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Vanessa Vale is the USA Today Bestselling author of over 30 books, sexy romance novels, including her popular Bridgewater historical romance series and hot contemporary romances featuring unapologetic bad boys who don't just fall in love, they fall hard. When she's not writing, Vanessa savors the insanity of raising two boys, is figuring out how many meals she can make with a pressure cooker, and teaches a pretty mean karate class. While she's not as skilled at social media as her kids, she loves to interact with readers.

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  VANESSA VALE BOOKS

  MMA Fighter Romance Series

  Fight For Her

  Bridgewater County Series

  Ride Me Dirty

  Claim Me Hard

  Take Me Fast

  Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs Series

  A Wanton Woman

  A Wild Woman

  A Wicked Woman

  Bridgewater Menage Series

  Their Runaway Bride

  Their Kidnapped Bride

  Their Wayward Bride

  Their Captivated Bride

  Their Treasured Bride

  Their Christmas Bride

  Their Reluctant Bride

  Their Stolen Bride

  Their Brazen Bride

  Wildflowers Of Montana Series

  Rose

  Hyacinth

  Dahlia

  Daisy

  Lily

  Montana Maidens Series

  Claiming Catherine

  Taming Tessa

  Dominating Devney

  Submitting Sarah

  Montana Men Series

  The Lawman

  The Cowboy

  The Outlaw

  Western Widows

  Sweet Justice

  Mine To Take

  Relentless

  Sleepless Night

  Man Candy

  The Alien's Mate: Cowgirls and Aliens