The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1)
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Maze and I faced each other
on the bed without a stitch of clothes on, just staring and touching. He would
touch my hair, my chest, my arm and I did the same. Tracing the patterns of the
ink all over his body. We didn’t make love last night, he just held me in his
arms. He had a fight later tonight. He finally told me about it, he didn’t want
to keep it from me. No more lies between us.

“I want you to be there,” he
said, running his finger around my ear. “But at the same time, I know violence
bothers you and in truth it’s not a world for you.”

I took his hand and kissed
his palm. “If you want me there, then I’ll be there.”

He sighed. “It’s not that I
don’t want you there. Well I do, but I don’t. I don’t want you to see that side
of me. The cruelty.”

“I already have. Twice. And I
didn’t run away. And there is no real cruelty inside you. You do what you must
when you fight.” I smiled.

He shook his head. “That was
nothing. This is raw, no holds barred. The more barbaric aspect of martial
arts. Have you even seen a boxing match or marital arts for real or on TV?”

I nodded. “Both on TV.”

“Well this is worse. This
isn’t the kind of stuff that looks like boxing or wrestling, it’s fast and
brutal. The only real rule is thou shall not kill. But maiming happens.”

I ran my hands over his body,
making sure there wasn’t anything missing. The thought of him being maimed or
forced to do that to someone made my heart beat hard in fear. I couldn’t bring
myself to ask if he’d ever maimed anyone. I couldn’t see any obvious scars on
him other than the one on his eyebrow. But I’d heard once that tats are
sometimes used to cover up scars. When I’d first met him years ago he’d only
had a couple of them, the dragon on his side, and a band around his ankle and
wrist. Now he had more, a full sleeve on one arm, writing that ringed his
collar bone, it said ‘Bring on the dragon’, one around his bicep and another
across his back. I sat up a little to closely examine the tats on his arm; I
couldn’t see anything other than the beautiful art work.

“Do your tats cover up
scars?”

He grinned. “I have rarely
been marked but there are a few nicks and yeah some of them do.”

I nodded peering hard, trying
to find a scar but still couldn’t tell. He pointed out one to me and if I
squinted I could sorta, kinda see that part of the scroll work within the cross
on his inside elbow might have been a scar. I began to laugh. “If you hadn’t
pointed that out to me I would not have seen it. And I’m not sure I do even
now. I love your tats.” My gaze flashed to his and I realized something else,
too. I loved him. So much. Whether my ankle healed or not was important to me
but it would not be the end of my world, as long as he was a part of it. I knew
what I had to do.

He planned to leave from here
to go home and get ready there before heading to the venue where the fight
would be held. It didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t tell me where it was
going to be. Other than it’s later tonight.

“I’m going with you,” I said.

He shook his head. “Babe,
no.”

Maybe I got it wrong; maybe
he really didn’t want me there. My chest rose and fell, my heart hurt. “Don’t
you want me there? To be with you?”

He leaned forward and kissed
my forehead, whispering against me. “More than anything. I want you with me
always.”

“Then I want to be there
always with you, for you.”

He pressed up against me so I
felt the way his heart rate picked up, like he was scared of my answer to his
question but he asked it anyway. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He kissed me then, rolling
over me and taking the kiss deeper, but just as quickly rolling away from me,
groaning and raised his arm to place it over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, babe, you have no
idea how much I want to be inside you right now. But I can’t and it’s killing
me. No worries though. I’ll use the frustration tonight to fight and
afterwards…” He lowered his arm and turned his head to look at me. “Afterwards,
I’m all yours to play with my tats or anything else all you want to, but I get
to return the favor.” He brushed his finger over my nipple and had it hardening
on contact.

I smiled. “I like that.”

He lowered his hand and
sighed. “But I still have to get home to get my stuff, and I want to stop by
the hospital first to see Joe. So let’s have some breakfast and then head to
the hospital.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Is it okay if we eat here? I
can run out and get us something,” he offered.

“There’s stuff in the
refrigerator but not sure there’re any eggs.”

He laughed. “I better tell
you now I really don’t cook. I can boil an egg, fix a sandwich, but I need a
lot of protein this morning and I don’t want you cooking for me. Not that I’d
mind but not while you’re on crutches. Can you even cook?”

I smacked his shoulder and he
laughed. “I’m kidding, you know that. I don’t care if you do or don’t.”

“I can, Dante taught me. He’s
a great cook.”

“He would be,” he mumbled.
“Well, tell ya what, you can teach me and then I’ll cook for you. It’s my job
to take care of you until you’re back on both feet and even after.”

If I weren’t already in love
with this man, I’d have fallen in love with him then.

We took separate showers;
Maze said he didn’t trust himself to take a shower with me. So while I took a
shower first, alone, he went out to get us some breakfast. After I finished I
went into the kitchen and got the kettle going. I just poured a cup when Dante
walked out of his room. He was dressed and carried his dance bag with him. The
performance was this afternoon but it was still too early for call.

“You’re leaving early,” I
said.

“Yeah, in a few. Some of the
cast are meeting for breakfast then going over.”

“Oh.” The door opened and
both of us swung our gazes in that direction. I’d given Maze my key so he could
let himself back in just in case I was still in the shower.

He walked in and nodded to
Dante. He placed the bags on the table in the kitchen and then kissed me.
“Where are the plates?” Maze asked.

“The cabinet to the right of
the sink,” Dante said.

“I’m glad you’re here, I need
to ask you a favor,” Maze said as he grabbed a couple of plates and put them on
the table. I began to pull stuff out of the bag.

“What did ya get?” I asked.

“For you, I got a ham and
cheese omelet. For me, I got an everything omelet along with a stack of
pancakes and sausages.”

“Holy shit,” Dante said. “Do
you eat like that all the time?”

“No, but on fight night I
stock up on the protein and carbs for breakfast,” Maze said.

Dante nodded. “What is it you
need, man?”

Maze sat down and finished
dishing out the food as he answered Dante. “Ivy wants to come watch me fight
tonight. The venue is pretty safe, lots of bodyguards around but I have to be
in the arena and I don’t want her there by herself, even if she wasn’t on
crutches. My uncle will be there but I thought it would be good for her to have
someone else with her, too.”

“I’ll be fine, besides Dante
has a performance,” I said. His gaze shot to mine. I told him about the
performance, but we hadn’t talked about it since. The one I was missing. I was
sort of trying really hard not to think about it.

“What time is the fight?”
Dante asked.

“Ten, the door will open
about an hour before.”

Dante nodded. “I can make it.
Do you want me to bring her with me?”

“No. I’ll already be there
with, Maze.” I spoke up staring hard at Maze. I wanted him to know I meant to
be with him. I wasn’t running away from any aspect of his life.

“Fine. Thanks, man. I’ll
leave your name at the door,” Maze said.

After breakfast Maze and I
took a cab over to the hospital. He decided it was better for us to go there
first then back to his place. His uncle, Tsang would pick us up from there to
take us to the arena. I was glad, a little nervous hobbling into the hospital
room on crutches to meet his step-father. But he seemed really happy to see us;
he even hugged me after Maze introduced me as his girlfriend. My heart did a
funny little leap at that word. I immediately liked Joe and he seemed really
sweet.

“She’s a ballerina,” Maze
told Joe and there was pride in his voice.

“I’ve seen the Russian ballet
a couple of times,” Joe said.

“What! How do I not know you
ever went to the ballet?” Maze asked. The shocked look on his face was
priceless and both Joe and I laughed.

“It was when you were little
and your mother was still alive. She loved the ballet. She used to dance, too,”
Joe told him.

Maze shook his head. “Another
thing I didn’t know.”

Then Joe turned his attention
to me. “What happened to your leg?”

I told him. I was happy my
voice didn’t wobble over the story, especially the part about how dancing would
depend on a few factors. Like how well the tendons healed, and then the really
hard part strengthening my ankle again.

“Maze can help you there,”
Joe said.

Maze nodded. “Yeah I told her
that. And no worries, this will work.”

“I will most definitely take
him up on that.” And I would. I was willing to try anything that would help. I
had nothing to lose.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Maze

 

I knew Ivy was nervous. I
couldn’t even hold her hand. She needed both hands to maneuver the crutches. I
was glad Uncle Tsang brought along an extra bodyguard tonight. When he’d come
to the house to meet us earlier, one had stayed outside in the car and the
other had come into the house with Tsang but Hasser went everywhere he did,
even the bathroom. Ivy seemed a little confused at first as to why Tsang needed
a bodyguard but she didn’t ask any questions. I saw in her eyes though they
were there.

Tsang took us to one of the
many restaurants he had an interest in in Chinatown for an early dinner, not
quite as heavy as breakfast for me since I fought in a few hours. Then he took
us to one of his condos to rest before the fight. He left Ivy and me alone but
would return to take us to the arena. It was there in Chinatown, not far from
the condo, walking distance in fact, but it was raining heavily.

“I like your uncle. Is he
your step-father’s brother?”

It was a logical question,
since they were both Chinese and I obviously was not. “No. He’s not blood
relation. Joe and Tsang are like brothers, they think of each other that way,
so when Joe adopted me so did Tsang.”

We sat on the couch just
relaxing, the television was on but neither of us were really watching it. I
lay back at the end of the couch with one leg against the back of the couch,
the other on the floor. I’d dragged the coffee table over so Ivy lay with her
back resting against my chest, one leg up on the couch next to mine, and the
other on the coffee table. Suddenly the sound of thunder crackled outside
causing the wall of windows in front of us to shake a little. Ivy jumped
against me. I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I didn’t
know you were scared of thunder.”

She snorted. “I’m not. It’s
the suddenness, the unexpected noise that makes me jump.”

I smiled into her hair but
she couldn’t see me. “I got ya.”

“Why does your uncle need a
bodyguard?”

And there it was, the
question I knew she’d been dying to ask me ever since she met him. I sighed. “I
don’t want to lie to you but my uncle, while he is a legitimate business man…
He owns a few restaurants in Chinatown and a few other businesses as well, but
he also has business rivals and he has ties that don’t always walk the straight
and narrow.”

“What!”

“So you’ll understand if the
less you know about the reasons why he might need a bodyguard the better, and
leave it at that.”

BOOK: The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1)
8.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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