Chapter Eight Seraphina #2
“We won that day, thwarted off foreign aggression and didn’t give up.
We were determined—or, as you prefer to say, stubborn.
” His shoulders relaxed for the first time since I sat across from him.
“One day it hit me that my family had become the occupiers. Destroying and ruining lives here and turning their backs on what our ancestors fought for ... freedom.” He finished his drink, angling his head while staring at me.
“So I walked away, and I’ve been fighting hard to keep these young men here from getting sucked into their world as much as possible. ”
“And the cartel doesn’t come after you for this?” Blood was blood, but still, no cartel I knew about had the best of reputations.
“We have a mutual understanding. I don’t bother them, they don’t mess with me.
” He glanced around the club. “These men, though, I can only do my best to try and protect them. Show them the right way.” As he finished speaking, a man in a suit walked over to the table and leaned forward to talk to him, speaking in Spanish, but I understood enough despite his hushed tone.
ángel’s expression quickly changed to one of disappointment before he gave him orders. From what I’d translated, the contender against the champion in the final fight was a no-show.
“You think the cartel got to him, don’t you?” I asked him once we were alone again.
“More than likely we lost him to the cartel, sí .”
He really did care about his city, his country, and his people. That much was obvious, and it made my heart hurt for him. I also couldn’t help but admire him. He’d been born into the life, and he’d chosen to walk away, which took courage.
“I’m sure someone will step in to fight for him.
Many have bets on the champ, and they’ll be upset if the fight is canceled.
” He stood, so I took that as my cue to do the same, hoping I’d still be steady on my feet after how much tequila I’d had in such a short amount of time.
“You’re welcome to stay and watch the last fight.
” He adjusted the sleeves of his black dress shirt.
“But keep in mind the crowd is a bit rough. They’re not used to seeing a woman here. ”
“I can handle myself, don’t worry.” Thanks to my father, who may have been an accountant and raised me to be the same but had also taught me how to defend myself. Maybe not up against an entire club of fighters, though.
“I have a feeling you can.” ángel reached into his pocket for his phone, then asked me for my number. “I’ll call tomorrow, and we will discuss this information you have that could be advantageous to us both.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” I set a hand on the table at my side for support, discovering the tequila had, in fact, done a number on me. I was a bit of a lightweight when it came to alcohol in general.
“On second thought,” he said, frowning, “I think I’ll have Javier keep an eye on you and walk you out when you’re ready to go.”
“That’s not necessary.” I mean, probably not.
“It’s not necessary but needed.” He made a quick call, and the same man who’d come to the table earlier reappeared. “Find a replacement?”
“ Sí, un americano. Un gringo ,” the man responded. “? Está bien ?”
ángel looked over at me for a moment. “The night for Americans in my club, so it would seem.” He nodded his okay to the man, then told him to find Javier and have him come keep an eye on me.
The guy turned to the side, waving at someone. I assumed it was Javier, but when I followed his gaze toward a side door opening, I about fell over. Because holy shit ... it couldn’t be him.
You found me. Why? How? I was shocked to see him and also ... relieved.
“You okay?” ángel asked, and I blinked and looked right past him, too transfixed on Ryder walking over to the vinyl-coated chain-link fence surrounding the canvas mat.
He was shirtless. His hard, toned body drew my eyes as he exchanged a few words with a man I recognized from his team in Miami. As if knowing he was being watched, Ryder slowly faced my direction.
The moment eye contact was made, I stepped back, colliding with the table behind me.
A tingling sensation spread throughout my arms and moved into my chest, leaving a feeling of safety swelling there that I wanted to latch on to.
I finally remembered to answer. “I’m fine,” I said, then ripped my eyes away from Ryder and took a seat again.
I did the opposite of what I should’ve done and poured myself a shot and tossed it back in the hope that it’d help me get a grip.
The man I couldn’t stop thinking about had found me, and I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.
ángel offered me his hand, and I took that as my cue that he wanted me to stand and head closer to the fight, so I accepted.
“So, um, who do you think will win?” I asked as Ryder went inside the cage with the other fighter. “Your champ or this American?”
ángel focused back on the cage as we neared it. “The gringo .”
Ryder began loosening up, rolling his shoulders forward and back. The man was a block of steel. Carved, cut, and hopefully as impenetrable as he looked. “Why him?”
“He’s going to fight in jeans,” he said with a laugh. “Which means he wasn’t planning to fight tonight, but he’s willing to do it anyway. That takes cojones . And my guess is, he isn’t fighting for money, but for someone or something else.”
Yeah, apparently me . “Well then,” I said, unable to look away from Ryder preparing to fight, “I think I’ll stay and watch. You know, to see if you’re right.”