The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) by Ursula Sinclair Page B

nodded his
head in time to the music as he turned around to check out the babes ogling
him.
    “Not bad,” he replied, and
turned back to me. “Maybe later. Let’s dance.”
    He placed his beer on the
counter and took my beer out of my hand and placed it next to his. Then taking
my hand he led me to the dance floor. We joined the jumping bodies and head
banged to the music, having a blast. After a couple of dances I noticed the two
girls who’d been eyeballing him from the bar had made their way near us dancing
together, with their arms wrapped around each other.
    I moved closer to him and
yelled into his ear so he could hear over the music, “You’re being stalked.”
    He turned and saw the girls,
moving closer to them, they must have said something to him, I couldn’t hear
over the music because he leaned in to them. Then he raised his arms and placed
them over both their shoulders. He’s such a pig I thought grinning. I didn’t
mind. I closed my eyes, immersed myself in the beat and kept right on dancing.
Suddenly, some instinct had me opening my eyes and I stared into the center of
a storm.

 
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    Maze

     
    I should have turned my ass
around as soon as I saw her on the dance floor with that dude. But I couldn’t
take my eyes off her. Today was a shitty day. After my meeting last night,
deciding to leave Ivy alone, my concentration was crap and this morning Joe
handed me my head on a platter because of my inattention during training.
    I bore the bruises on my ass
to prove it. I thought about Ivy all night. Also, what was the point of
training so long and hard for something I would not be allowed to claim. Like her.
    Last night I was reminded
about the fight and the enforcer, who happened to be Jai’s older brother,
wanted to work out the details, right down to how I would take the fall. There
were no rounds, like most regular fights, for this fight, we fought until
somebody went down. Nor was it the kinda shit most associated with MMA leagues,
there wasn’t a lot of boxing or rolling around on the floor. This was a purer
form of the arts. But they wanted me to make sure I dragged it out and the last
few minutes get my ass good and truly kicked. Then I had to fucking do it again
during the blade part of the match, and let the dick head draw first blood.
    They reminded me of all of
this while Joe sat at the conference table with four of the heads of the
Triads, and the fucker I had to fight stood behind Joe’s chair, his hands on
the back of it. The implication was clear. I’d watched him fight. I was better.
I had to fucking let this piece of shit take me down with the flat of a blade.
I could not bring myself to look at anyone else in the room but Joe, otherwise
I would have given them the finger and walked out. I had to agree. I had no
choice but to be a fucking pin cushion. Joe needed me to do this. After
everything he’d done for my mom before she died, for me. I owed that man
everything. I owed him my life. So if I had to bruise and bleed a little for
him, so be it. I didn’t have to like it though.
    Yet there was one thing I
wanted, more than anything in this world, one night with Ivy. Just one night. I
had planned to stay away and I would have, I swear I would have. Except I saw
her at a weak moment and I needed her so badly. So I stood in the club like an
ass and watched her dance. The way her body moved as she turned in a circle was
a feast for the senses. Her eyes had been closed but when she opened them again
they were wide open and staring right at me. I raised one hand and extended a
finger back and forth in her direction. Calling her to me, and wonders of
wonders, she came.
    I took her hand and turned to
go. I needed. I wanted. Now. But she tugged on my hand stopping me cold. Taking
me out of whatever the fucking universe I thought we lived in that I could just
walk right outta there with her, find the nearest room and fuck each other’s
brains out.
    “Where are we