Page 61 of Defending Mateo
“You're sure? You're not lying to me, little mouse?”
“Not lying,” she said, and the truth of her words was reflected in her eyes. “He just left me in the room and then came back about thirty minutes ago with the clothes. He made me change in front of him, then brought me here.”
A growl rumbled through his chest, and Griffin laughed when Mateo fixed him with a glare. Of course, the man had to make sure he kept demeaning and humiliating Ally, he couldn’t just let her change in privacy.
“Come on, she’s hot, and you know it. Besides, it’s not like she could have come here in the clothes you gave her to wear, she’d stick out like a sore thumb. You should be thanking me for giving her something else to wear,” Griffin said, in what was quite obviously a goading tone. Because the clothing Ally was wearing now was a black leather skirt so short that it barely covered everything, a bright blue halter neck top that plunged down and once again almost revealed everything, and a pair of white knee-high boots.
“You want her sticking out like a sore thumb,” he snarled, aware that the reason Griffin had dressed Ally up to look like a hooker was to make sure everyone was staring at her. Wanted to use her as leverage to keep him on a short leash.
“Want her to remind you of the stakes if you don’t win tonight,” Griffin reminded him.
“As if I'm going to forget,” he muttered.
“Time to go,” Griffin said, stepping up and grabbing Ally’s arm, attempting to pull her away.
But Ally clung to him. “Are you going to be okay? You look like you're hurting.” Her fingers traced over his bare chest, whispering across the bruises painting his skin.
“I'm fine, baby,” he assured her. A few bruises weren't going to slow him down. Nothing would stop him from winning tonight. Nothing.
“Please be careful,” she begged.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you, little mouse,” he told her, unable to promise he’d be careful. By definition, what he was about to walk into was the opposite of careful. Needing to have the taste of her on his lips as he walked into the ring tonight, he dipped his head and crushed his mouth to hers. Their tongues clashed, Ally pressed closer against him, his fingers tangled in her hair as he angled her head to deepen the kiss.
“Alrighty, that’s enough,” Griffin suddenly announced, and Ally was yanked away from him.
“You can do this, I believe in you,” she told him as she was dragged out of the room.
“Won't ever let you down again, little mouse,” he said as she disappeared from view. He never would have guessed that the way he’d wind up protecting his girl was by embracing the fact that he was wildly in love with her. It was really the only way to play this, and besides his own plan to fight for Griffin’s ring, gather intel from this side of the business, he had no doubt that Prey and the Delta Force team were coming up with a plan of their own.
But he couldn’t wait around to see what they came up with. He was going to have to trust them while working his own angle.
With Ally gone, he focused his mind. Confident as he was in his abilities, he was injured, and it wasn't going to be an easy win because of that. He’d still win, but he was going to have to work for it, so he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by anything, not even the fact that the second in command of a human trafficking ring had his little mouse dressed like a tramp and sitting beside him.
Focused.
That’s what he had to be.
So he grabbed his gloves, pulled them on, and then waited to be called out into the ring. Since this was an underground fighting ring, there were no rules. Anything went tonight. You could fight dirty, in fact, the crowd expected it, the dirtier the better.
When it was his turn to walk into the ring, he felt calm and in control. Years of training in a gym, using boxing to shut down his feelings, might not have helped him heal from his trauma or learn to form normal emotional attachments, but it would serve him well tonight.
He knew how to do this.
The shouts of the crowd didn't even register, and he didn't bother to look to see where Ally and Griffin were sitting, although he could feel his girl’s eyes on him. Feel her concern, but he had to block that out too.
Focus.
Had to focus.
It was the only way to save his girl.
Stepping into the ring, the only thing he categorized about his opponent were the things that mattered to the fight. He couldn’t say what color the man’s eyes were or the color of his hair, but he took note of his height, his weight, which side he favored, the slightly more worn left glove indicating the man was probably a leftie.
They were the things that mattered.
They were what would win him the fight.
The whistle blew.
