Chapter Fourteen
This is way fancier than anything I’ve ever been to in my life. I’m stunned that a lot of the people Joey is pointing out to me are fighters. People who use their fists to make a living. The ones he’s introduced to me so far have been nice. Aside from their size and some of them having obvious old broken bones in their faces, I would never guess they got up and did violence.
A few of them have eyed me too closely, making me a little uncomfortable, but Joey noticed and steered us away, or gave whoever it was a sharp ‘back the fuck off’ glare.
There are a ton of beautiful women here too and at first I felt self-conscious, but Joey has barely taken his eyes off me. Something Brooke swore this dress would do. I felt uncomfortable wearing it, but as the night has gone on, I’ve felt more at ease, almost proud of how I look. Showing myself off in the past never happened.
Michael hated it if I drew attention to myself. Even when I was wearing jeans and a sweater, with my hair tied up and no make-up. If someone even looked in my direction, he’d get pissed. And took it out on me .
Mostly it was him yelling, or making me feel small, ugly. Then he started using his fists.
I felt nothing like that tonight. I feel beautiful. The dinner segment of the evening starts, and Joey leads me to a table that is just off center to the stage. There are eight seats around it, each with a name card. Mine says Mr Ferguson’s guest.
Joey holds out my chair for me before unbuttoning his jacket and sitting beside me. A server pours everyone a glass of champagne and Joey strikes up a conversation with the other four people already seated with us. Everyone introduces themselves, Joey knows one of them who is a fight promoter he’s worked with before.
I’m still a little shy around strangers, but feel like I’m holding my own. Joey is more outgoing than most people I know, able to talk to anyone. He keeps the focus off me, while drawing me into the conversation so I don’t feel left out.
Everything about him is appealing to me, so much so I can forget he is a fighter.
“Well, if it isn’t The Slayer .”
Joey’s shoulders stiffen. I glance to my left and see a tall, broad man in a white tuxedo with a black shirt and bow tie approaching the table. He’s good looking, but the sneer on his face detracts from that.
My body tenses and I go on guard, feeling the tension radiating from Joey isn’t helping.
My eyes go back to the man. This is Kelvin Marris. The one he is due to fight in a month's time. The one who has been talking a lot of crap about Joey. After Joey told me, as soon as I got home, I looked everything up.
I even watched a snippet of their fight but had to turn it off when they started laying into one another. It scared me a little, but my mind’s eye kept bringing up an image of Joey laughing with his aunt .
Or the patient smile on his face whenever he's showing me something new. How he jokes around with the other men at the gym and had banter with Jenna. Still, I struggled to watch him using his fists against someone else’s face.
I’m instantly on guard as Marris steps up to the table, putting both hands on the back of the chair beside me. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s interrupted a conversation, or that most people around the table are looking at him with a mixture of irritation and confusion. Except the promoter, he looks ridiculously happy about it.
“Kelvin,” Joey says, giving him the most fake smile I’ve seen on Joey’s usually happy face.
I also don’t miss how he doesn’t use his fighting name. Kelvin ‘The Leviathan’ Marris. I looked up what it meant. Apparently, a Leviathan is a mythical sea creature. I find it apt the definition I read about it says the leviathan is a demon of the deadly sin, envy.
It’s written all over his face and in every action he has taken since Joey agreed to fight him again that he is envious, with something to prove. I want to get as far away from him as possible.
Especially when his eyes shift to me. He eyes me up and down, lingering on my breasts, making me fold in to make myself smaller.
“What do you want, Kelvin?” Joey says, drawing the man’s eyes away, but not before he gives me a wink that makes bile swirl in my throat.
Joey moves a little closer to me and his hand touches my knee beneath the table. That would have made me jolt before now, but it’s meant to reassure me, and it does. Knowing he’s got my back and he will do anything to prevent me from feeling uncomfortable.
“Just wanted to say hello. You know, show my respect. Before our fight.”
There is nothing respectful about the way he is leaning over the table, staring down at Joey. I can sense how he wants to get up, to put himself on the same level as this asshole, but he remains seated and tips his chin.
“Thanks,” Joey says like this guy is doing him a favor rather than trying to rattle him. “Dinner is about to be served. You should go get your seat, so the servers can move around.”
The fake smile falls from Marris’ face. Joey’s voice was calm and reasonable in his suggestion, but everyone at the table can see it for what it is. A dismissal.
“Who’s your friend? You didn’t introduce us.” He turns his dark eyes to me, and I shift in my seat again. “I’m surprised you got someone this beautiful to go anywhere with you.”
“Don’t,” Joey says.
Marris can see he’s touched a nerve. He leers at me again. “I’m Kelvin.” He reaches for my hand, but I move it so he can’t touch me.
He huffs out a laugh as he studies me, then glances at Joey, who is seething now.
“You should look me up after we have our fight,” he winks at me. “Someone as beautiful as you doesn’t want to be stuck with a loser. You’ll want to be with the winner.”
“In which case, I’ll be fine right where I am.”
His features contort and his cheeks go red, especially when the promoter at the table laughs, not so subtly at my put down.
“We’ll see,” he says through gritted teeth. He leans closer so I have to move back, otherwise he will be far too close to me. He starts to say something, but Joey gets up, forcing him to move backwards.
People look over. It’s obvious what is going on. The fight is all anyone has been talking about tonight. Most of the questions Joey has got have been about the rematch.
A lot of them have been telling him he’ll beat Marris again. It’s just a formality. It’s what has got him so riled up, if he’s heard people talking too .
“Walk away.”
Marris glares at him, looks at me, this time in disgust, then laughs loudly before holding up his hands in some kind of fake placating way. He walks away and Joey takes his seat again.
“It’s okay,” he says, leaning into me, angling so the rest of the people at the table don’t see me panicking.
“I don’t know why I did that. Oh God, I’m sorry, I’ve messed things up for you.”
“No you haven’t. It was kind of hot, how you slapped him down.”
“Don’t say that. Joey, I made him so mad.”
“Nothing you say will do anything to make Marris worse than he already is,” he whispers.
He brushes some of the loose tendrils of hair away from my shoulder. I’m so lost in my state of panic that it doesn’t even register how his hand lingers there, brushing over the skin where my neck meets my shoulder.
“But you handled that so well, I was the ass.”
“You can never be an ass, Meg. Trust me, I’m not concerned.”
It feels like he is lying. That guy was really pissed off.
“Don’t worry, Megan.”
Joey turns to the promoter, who still has a wide grin on his face.
“It’ll make for a better fight, right Slayer? A beautiful woman getting between you.”
The heads of the other people at the table are bouncing back and forth between Joey and the promoter. I want to sink into the floor again. What is it with me being out with Joey that has me feeling like this? Only this is worse. I literally just angered the man Joey is gearing up to fight.
“It won’t ever be like that,” Joey says through gritted teeth. “We’re professionals. Our personal lives never come into this. And if I hear anything to the contrary, I’ll know where it came from, because I can guarantee Marris will not want the world to know what just happened here.”
The promoter swallows, looking nervous, then laughs it off, as if he had no intention of spilling what just went on at the table .
“Forget about it,” Joey says, turning back to me. “Trust me, okay? I’m not worried.”
I want to, but I can’t help looking over to where Marris has moved a few rows back to another table. He’s watching me and it makes spiders crawl down my spine, and I shudder.
Joey touches my chin and turns my face back to him.
“I got you, Meg. Just breathe.”
My heart is pounding. The fight-or-flight reaction is taking over me. Darkness blurs the edges of my vision as memories take over. I’ve seen that expression so many times before, usually before I’m hurt.
“Megan, look at me. I’m here. I’ll do whatever you want to do. Do you need to leave?” Joey asks.
Joey would get up and walk out of here with me if that was what I needed.
All I can think about is Marris feeling smug about us leaving. Believing he got to Joey rattled him. I won’t be responsible for that.
Drawing in a breath, I focus on Joey’s eyes. He’s worried, but he’s reassuring, and his finger is stroking the side of my neck. I calm and close my eyes, savoring his touch.
“I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“I want to stay,” I tell him, opening my eyes, surer in my voice now.
He gives me a soft smile, his hand moves so he can squeeze my shoulder. “Anytime that changes, don’t be afraid to tell me.”
He studies me, looking for something to confirm he’s right and I want to leave. Steeling my shoulders, I take a few calming breaths. I’ve never been brought back from a panic attack so quickly, so easily, and gently. I nod at him and Joey smiles, then he settles back in his seat.
He doesn’t seem to be concerned, but I’m pretty certain I just opened a whole new can of worms for him.