“Our girl? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh…you didn’t know? Mila’s my fiancée,” Louis bursts out with a snicker.
“He’s …your ex?” Marco turns to me with a look of pain on his face, and I can’t move. “You need to leave her alone.” He turns to Louis. “Get the fuck out…before I kill you with my bare hands.”
“I’m going.” Louis throws up his hands in surrender but doesn’t move. “First…I have a proposition for you.”
“Mila, wait upstairs for me,” he orders, stepping toward Louis with his eyes trained on him. “Now!”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m blinded by rage as Mila bolts from the gym with her mascara-stained cheeks. I’ve never seen her move so fast. I screamed at her to go upstairs, and now I feel like a dick. I needed to get her out of this room because my head spins with fury. I’m about to tear the man in front of me into a million pieces with my bare hands.
“What do you want?”
“Oh…you didn’t know…Mila and I…” He chuckles, and I want to punch his fucking face off. I know once I start…I won’t be able to stop. “You have what I want.”
“Get! Out!”
“I just want to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you…are you fucking stupid?”
“I have a proposition for you. Apparently, you’re the guy I need to go through to make it to the top. I want a fight.”
“I’m not fucking fighting you,” I scoff.
“If you win… I’ll never bother her again.”
“She’s not a fucking prize, asshole.” I take a few steps toward him, forcing him to back away toward the door. “Mila’s already mine.”
“Are you afraid, Marco? Scared the same thing that happened to Nick is…”
I throttle him around his neck and push him against the wall. “You don’t ever fucking say his name.” I squeeze his throat a little tighter. “You hear me?” I spit the words in his face.
He tries to nod, but it’s difficult with my hands gripping his throat. I could snap him like a twig. His bloodshot eyes make me wonder how much blow he does a day. The stupid fuck.
I lean forward and talk in a soft, calm voice next to his ear. “As for Mila…you ever even breathe in her direction…ever again. They will never find your body. Do you understand?” I release him and back away, watching him struggle to breathe as he clutches his throat.
“My people have already contacted your promoter.” He pulls a small white card from his pocket and slaps it on the counter. “Think about it,” he croaks before turning and walking out the door. “Anywhere. Any time.”
I’m still shaking as I lock up the front entrance, I must have left open when we came home tonight. I double-check the side door and dart upstairs. My head still feels like it’s going to explode.
“The fuck, Mila?” I mumble under my breath. I can’t make sense of it right now. The fucker who put my brother in a chair is her psycho ex. She fucking knew and didn’t tell me.
Mila’s sitting on the edge of my bed, fully dressed, her duffle bag alongside her on the floor when I enter my apartment. I slam the door a little too hard, making her jump out of her skin.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, staring down at her lap.
“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say?” I cut my hand through the air. “I have several issues with your statement, Angel,” I growl. I know I’m being a dick right now. “Did you know all along?” I’m trying to understand what the hell is going on. “Was this all some kind of ruse to get me to fight him? Did you set me up?”
“What? Oh, my God! No!” She stands and paces toward me then thinks better of it. “I didn’t know…the night at the hospital…when you talked about Nicky…I figured it out.”
“So why didn’t you fucking tell me?”
“I…I don’t know. I was afraid…”
“Afraid. You were fucking afraid?” I shout, making her cower in front of me. Fuck! I need to calm down. I’m scaring her just like her scumbag ex would do. The last thing I want is for her to be afraid around me. I feel so much rage at the moment, but I would never hurt her. She has to know. I wouldn’t hurt her in any way. The way she’s visually shaking, she doesn’t, you asshole.
I drag my fingers through my hair. I can’t talk about this right now. I need to get out of here. “I need to go,” I say with my hands on the counter and my head down. I need time to clear my head. I need to cool off so we can talk about this civilly. I swipe my phone from the counter and head for the door. “I’ll be back.”
“W-where are you going?” she stammers, pacing toward me.
“I don’t know.” She reaches out and touches my forearm, and I pull away like I’ve just been burned taking something out of a hot oven. I swore I’d never hurt her but I can tell I just did.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers in a soft voice, and I don’t answer, slamming the door closed behind me.
The five-minute jog to Delia and Tig’s tattoo shop seems to have settled my nerves a little. They have an apartment above the shop. Tig has already unlocked the door, and he’s waiting for me in the back.
“What the fuck, man? Delia and I just got to bed an hour ago,” he complains, standing by the Keurig machine sitting on the counter next to his tools. “Thanks for cutting out early, by the way.” He offers me a mug of coffee he just brewed. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” I wave my hand and decline.
“What happened? Trouble in paradise already?”
“Something like that,” I huff, taking a seat in one of the tattoo chairs, lying back like it’s some psychiatrist couch. I’ve spent many hours, many times in this chair.
“I’m not inking you when you’re like this.” He frowns, which isn’t much different from his every day scowl.
“My head’s so fucked right now, I wouldn’t know what to get inked anyway.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up over a woman before. What’s going on?”
“Mila has a history.”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
“She has an ex.”
“Don’t we all?” he chuckles.
“She’s been hiding from him. Pretty abusive.”
“I figured from what you and Soraya have hinted to me.” He yawns before taking a sip from his mug. “What’s the problem?”
“She told me some stuff about him. I don’t want to go into details. It’s not my story to tell.”
“Spit it out, Marco. I have a client at eight in the morning. I’d like to get a couple of hours of sleep.”
“We had a visitor tonight. Turns out her ex is the fucker who put Nicky in his chair.”
“No, shit.” His face twisted with disbelief. “So you need me to help dispose of the body?”
I scoff out a laugh. “I let him go without a scratch.”