MY PROTECTOR: The Valves MC

by Kathryn Thomas

  Grayson reaches one hundred and gets up from the ground, using his top to wipe the sweat off of his forehead and chest. “It’s nothing, just some empty threat from Morrison, that’s all.”

  Grayson can almost feel the air between them still as West processes what he’s just been told. “Morrison doesn’t make empty threats. What happened?”

  “He wants me to throw the next fight.” It’s only when the words are out of his mouth that Grayson realizes the effort he’s been making to keep it all inside. It’s a relief to tell someone.

  “Fucking piece of shit!” West’s voice rings out through the gym, and everyone stops what they’re doing. He lifts his head and looks around. “Take an hour for lunch. Go on! Get the hell out of here!” He’s bellowing as the aspiring fighters scramble to get out of the door. They’ve seen West frustrated, and they’ve seen him be hard on them, but this time he was seriously mad.

  “Feel better now?” Grayson raises an eyebrow at his coach and mentor, trying to make light of the situation.

  “It’s not fucking funny, Gray. If the UFC gets a whiff that you’re being blackmailed, even if you don’t act on it, then you’re suspended. Say goodbye to the title, the sponsorships, everything we’ve worked for all these years.” West sits down heavily on the bench, looking as defeated as Grayson has ever seen him.

  “You think I don’t know that, West?” Grayson takes a few deep breaths to try to calm down. Taking his frustration out on West isn’t going to solve anything. “I’m going to deal with it, just trust me.”

  “How?” West gives him a suspicious look.

  “I’m going to let Morrison know that he doesn’t have any hold over me anymore. He doesn’t have any bargaining chips left.” Grayson shrugs his shoulders as if it’s just that simple.

  “And if he goes to the Association with what he knows?” West looks around despite there not being anyone within earshot and drops his voice. “About what happened at your first fight?”

  Grayson’s entire body goes cold, just like it does every time he focuses on the memory of that night. “It was a long time ago, and Morrison has a lot to lose too by going public. Besides, not many people are going to believe a bookie who’s been in and out of jail more times than Lindsey Lohan. I’m calling his bluff, West. I’ve been letting him lead me around for too long. Things are different now. I’m not just some nobody fighter that no one gives a shit about anymore. The next fight is for the state title; this is the big leagues now.” His voice is calm and measured, but he can’t quite hold back the anger that overwhelms him whenever he thinks about Morrison.

  “I hope you’re right, Grayson. I hope you’re right.” West rubs a hand over his bald head in his time-honored gesture of frustration. Grayson doesn’t add that he hopes so too.

  He’d made his decision to tell Adriana the truth, to tell her all of it. He’d wanted to tell her the night of the fight, but things hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Then, he’d wanted to tell her this morning, but her confession of her date had thrown him for a loop. If he wanted to prove to her that he’d changed, that he didn’t want to have any secrets from her, then he had to tell it all. After the party, that’s when he would do it, when they could be alone, without any interruptions. He would explain everything once and for all, what had happened that night ten years ago, his involvement with Morrison, and everything that he’d done to get himself to where he was now. She would understand. Out of everyone, she would understand. She had to.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ADRIANA

  “What do you mean you’re not going?” Willow’s hands are planted firmly on her hips, and she is not happy.

  “Exactly what I said, Will. It’s a bad idea. It was a bad idea when I said I would, and it’s a bad idea now.” Adriana busies herself pouring out about her eighteenth cup of coffee of the day, as if she weren’t jittery enough.

  “No way, uh-uh.” Willow waggles her finger at her. “There’s no way that I pulled a sickie at work to find you the perfect dress for tonight…one that will make all the men drool…for you to decide you’re suddenly not going. Besides, what’s Grayson supposed to do without a date?”

  “I’m not his date! I was just supposed to be going as a friend.” Adriana waves Willow’s comments away.

  “Well, dumping him at the last minute doesn’t seem like something a very good friend would do.” Willow crosses her arms and waits, knowing exactly how to play on Adriana’s over-developed sense of responsibility.

  “What am I supposed to do, Will?” Adriana collapses onto the couch like a sack of potatoes. “How can I go out there and pretend that I’m okay with being his friend when I can’t stop thinking about him?” She shakes her head as if to jolt him out of her mind. “I should never have gone on that stupid date.”

  “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” The uncertainty in Willow’s voice is clear.

  “Not that bad? By the time the server had brought our drinks I’d already compiled a check-list of all the ways the good doctor wasn’t anything like Grayson!” Adriana hugs the cushion to her as if it might provide some comfort.

  Willow sighs deeply and collapses on the couch next to Adriana staring at the bright yellow wall. “You know I think he was an asshole for the way he treated you the other night. But the guy cares about you. It’s plain for anyone with two eyes in their head to see, apart from you apparently. You told me he tried to explain why he ran off in the middle of the night, aren’t you the least bit curious to let him?”

  Adriana can feel Willow’s eyes boring into her brain and covers her face with the cushion. “I hate it when you’re right,” she says miserably.

  “Don’t hate the player, babe, hate the game.” Willow uses her best west-side gangster rapper voice, and they both explode into fits of laughter. When they’ve calmed down and Adriana has finally removed the cushion from her face, Willow gives her friend an expectant look. “So, is Cinderella going to the ball or what?”

  “Well, it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress…” Adriana smiles. Willow had always had an eye for clothes, but she had really outdone herself this time. The dress that she had found Adriana couldn’t have been more perfect. It fit her like a glove, as if it were made for her. The deep green of the material brought out the color of her eyes and it skimmed over her figure, hugging her in all the right places. She wasn’t going to lie, she felt like a million dollars in the dress, which wasn’t all that far away from what it had cost her. She thinks ruefully about the credit card bill that’s going to land in her mailbox imminently.

  Willow’s excitement pierces through Adriana’s post-purchase guilt. “Yey! It’s makeover time!” She leaps up, clapping her hands like a seal. “But first, I think you need to relax a little, Adrie. And I know just the thing!” Willow snaps her fingers heading straight for the liquor cabinet in the kitchen.

  “Uh-uh, Will, falling flat on my face in front of everyone isn’t on my list of things to do tonight.” Adriana adds that thought to the catalogue of reasons why she’s so nervous about tonight.

  “One margarita isn’t going to push you over the edge, Adrie. Now go jump in the shower, and I’ll make the drinks. It’s like the old days, making cocktails and getting ready to go out.” Willow looks all nostalgic and not a little wistful all of a sudden.

  “You alright, Will?” Adriana looks at her friend, concerned.

  “I was just thinking…” She trails off and Adriana is pretty sure she detects a hint of a blush, something that seems completely foreign on Willow’s face.

  “About Tommy?” Adriana smiles knowingly.

  Willow turns around so that Adriana can’t see her face. “I’m not wasting my time on someone who can’t tell the difference between a bimbo and the real deal. Besides, you said yourself, I don’t date younger guys.” She tosses her hair like a horse.

  “Methinks you protest too much.” Adriana ducks as the dishcloth that Willow has thrown goes sailing over her head. “All I’m saying is that
if you really like him then do something about it. I’ve never known you to be shy when it comes to going after what you want.”

  “Sometimes it’s not quite that simple, Adrie. Besides, not all of us find our soulmates when we’re sixteen.” Willow gives her friend a meaningful look.

  “Seriously, if you use the ‘s’ word again Will…You know I don’t believe in that stuff.” Adriana heads towards the bathroom to start getting herself ready, with all her debating she’s left herself with precious little time.

  “Just because you don’t believe in it, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Willow doesn’t give Adriana a chance to reply before she puts the blender on, drowning out any possible response.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  GRAYSON

  Stupid damn, monkey suit. Grayson shifts uncomfortably outside the apartment, waiting for Adriana. He wants to believe that his fidgeting is just due to the tux, but he’s not that naïve. He feels like a kid waiting for his prom date. Or at least what he imagined that would be like. He’d never been to prom; he had been too busy making his way on the underground fight scene.

  He looks around at the near-empty parking lot, feeling a prickling at the base of his neck, like he’s being watched. There’s no one around, but the feeling remains out of the corner of his eye, like there’s danger lurking just out of view. You’re being paranoid, Grayson. You’re a bag of nerves, pull it together.

  Tonight was the night that he was going to tell Adriana all about his past. Tonight was the night that he was going to share his secrets with her. It was the only way to be free of it all. Grayson has it all figured out; he’s going to wait until the end of the night when they can be alone in the limo and he can tell her about that night in the ring all those years ago.

  His hand shakes at the prospect of it, what if she doesn’t want anything to do with him after he’s told her? What if she hates him? She spends her life patching people up, and he was going to tell her that he had broken someone beyond repair. His freaking out is interrupted by Adriana’s apartment door suddenly being swung open, but it’s not Adriana that stands in front of him.

  “Umm, hi Willow.” Grayson shifts uncomfortably under her scrutinizing stare. “Is Adriana here?” He cringes at himself at the question. Of course she’s there, he’s standing outside her house.

  “She’s just finishing up, she’ll be right out.” Willow crosses her arms over her chest and tosses her red hair back, like she’s trying to get a better read on him.

  “Go on.” Grayson holds his hands out either side of him. “Say whatever it is that’s on your mind. I’ve known you for long enough to know that you’re not exactly shy about letting your feelings out when it comes to Adriana.”

  Willow gives him an amused look, but he’s not wrong. She checks over her shoulder that Adriana is otherwise occupied before she steps out into the hallway, looking like she means business.

  “If it were up to me, she would have walked out the door after the fight that night when your dressing room looked like something out of ‘Attack of the Bimbos.’” Willow pokes Grayson in the chest with her index finger. Although she’s not as tall as him, her righteous anger seems to give her a few extra feet. “Strike one was slipping out in the middle of the night on her, strike two was your little display of testosterone in your dressing room. One more strike and you’re out, Fletcher. You got that?” She plants her hands on her hips and looks at him with anger burning in her eyes.

  Grayson can’t help but smile. Knowing that Adriana has a friend like Willow to look out for her—even if it is against him—makes him feel like she’s in good hands. “You’re a good friend, Willow.” The widening of her eyes tells him that wasn’t exactly the response that she had been expecting from him. “By the way, Tommy says hi.” He grins at her, as she flushes before she regains her poise.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet he does.” She mutters the words under her breath, but her irony slips a little, showing a softer side under the tough exterior.

  “Hasn’t the poor guy suffered enough, Will?” Adriana’s voice makes them both turn around in unison, and Grayson’s breath catches in his throat. “What?” She looks at them both uncertainly.

  “You look…” Grayson stops when he realizes that he doesn’t in fact have the right word to describe how she looks, every description seems to pale in comparison to her. The green dress looks like it was made with Adriana in mind. It makes her eyes even more arresting, and it hugs her tightly, showing off her amazing body.

  “Are you going to finish that sentence, slick or just stand there with your mouth hanging open?” Willow nudges him with her bony elbow.

  He obliges by closing his mouth, not having realized he’d been doing a pretty good impression of a goldfish. “You look amazing, Adrie. I don’t know how anyone is going to look at anything other than you all night.” Grayson feels that familiar thrill as she beams at him, pleased that his words have made her so happy.

  “Better.” Willow’s commentary from behind him sounds grudgingly impressed, but her tone changes instantly as she goes to hug Adriana. “You’re a knock-out, Adrie. Now, you guys should get going before that limo turns into a pumpkin.” She smiles broadly, as she waves them both off, making a gesture to Grayson indicating that he’s on his third strike.

  “She’s kind of…” Adriana shrugs like she can’t find the right word.

  “Scary?” Grayson supplies helpfully, shaking his head at Willow’s protectiveness over her friend.

  Adriana laughs out loud, and Grayson is pretty sure that it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “You’re telling me that a pro-MMA fighter is scared of a girl who can’t weigh more than one hundred twenty pounds?” She raises an eyebrow archly at him, teasing him.

  “You scare me more, and I could pick you up and put you in my pocket.” Grayson’s immediate response is more honest than he would have planned, but this is what tonight is going to be about—honesty. It’s high time that he tells Adriana how he feels about her. Ten years was long enough to wait.

  “Nice ride.” She nods thanks towards the limo driver as he holds the door open for her, breaking the tension between them. Grayson feels a little pang of jealousy; he had wanted to open the door for her. Easy, Grayson, he tells himself. Beating up the driver isn’t going to win you any points.

  Sitting in the back of the car together, he can feel every nerve buzzing. She’s so close he can reach out and touch her, but she’s made it clear that she doesn’t want that, not yet. With her hair up, her beautiful neck is just staring at him, waiting for him to kiss her in the sensitive spot that he’d discovered the night they slept together. It’s a short drive to the art museum where the party is being held, and Grayson is grateful for it. He doesn’t know how much longer he can be in such close proximity to Adriana without jumping her. He’s barely able to concentrate on the small talk they’re making.

  “Grayson?” Adriana looks at him expectantly, and he realizes he’s missed something. “I said you look good in a tux.” She smiles shyly at him. “Very James Bond.”

  “Thanks,” he smiles awkwardly, adjusting himself yet again in his suit and hoping that she doesn’t notice. “I still feel like an idiot.” More than an idiot, he feels like an imposter. His tux cost more than he and his family would have lived on in a month back in Philly. This kind of formalwear and this kind of event make up the territory of the wealthy, the famous, not people like him.

  You’re a screw up, a nobody. His father’s words still echo in Grayson’s ears. No matter what he does or where he goes, he can’t shut him out.

  “Hey,” Adriana reaches over and lays her hand on top of his, squeezing it gently. “Where do you go when you look so sad?” She looks searchingly into his eyes, like she’s trying to figure him out.

  “Sorry, I was…” He scrabbles around for something to say. “I guess I’m just a little nervous about tonight.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie; but, the reason he is nervous has nothing to do with the party they are a
bout to hit.

  “Of course,” Adriana shakes her head as if she’s annoyed at herself for not having thought about that. “This is a big deal for you…a new sponsor, your first big win. This is your night, you should enjoy it.” She smiles up at him as she squeezes his hand, gently. Automatically he runs his thumb over the soft skin on the back of her hand, instantly feeling that strange mix of calm and excitement or, as he calls it, The Adriana Effect.

  “It’s our night. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” He looks into her eyes, hoping that he can communicate at least some of what it is that he’s thinking.

  She looks askance at him, unsure. Then, she bites her bottom lip in the way that makes him want to kiss her hard and lay her down across the back seat. “What do you mean?” She shakes her head in confusion and withdraws her hand from his as if she’d read his mind and wanted no part of his primal need. But her breathing has picked up, as if she herself is feeling just how small the back of the car is getting.