Knox’s face immediately came to mind, and I let the thought of him relax me. I barely knew him, but I had never felt so comfortable being alone with a guy back here as I did when I was with him. I trusted him completely, and he didn’t disappoint.
I dragged my fingertips along Christian’s thigh then ran my hands back down. I began to stand and let my head fall forward, pushing my tits into him before pulling back. I stood up and turned my hips, rocking my ass from side to side.
There was a knock at the door and Carmine stuck his head out, talking to someone on the other side.
A hand grabbed my waist, and I swatted it away. I might have been imagining Knox, but I still knew damn well who was beneath me, and he was not allowed to touch me. He released his grip and dropped it to his side.
I went low and got back on my knees, arching my back until my hand touched behind my head. He groaned at the view. I came back up, running my hands over the pigtails. I circled my hips and moved closer to him when his hand snaked out and grabbed me. He yanked me onto the couch, and before I could react, he thrust his finger inside me.
A terrified gasp fell from my mouth.
“You like that don’t you, you dirty whore?” he growled into my ear. The sound of his zipper being undone echoed through the room. I drove my hands into his chest and went to scream, but he closed his hand around my throat. MY heart slammed violently against my chest and every muscle in my body froze. . “I expected you’d like it rough.”
He tightened his grip on my throat cutting off my air supply and my ability to scream for help. He got on his knees, releasing his dick. Tears streamed down my face as I twisted and kicked, trying everything in my power to get him off of me before he put his disgusting dick anywhere near me.
The room spun as I fought for control and air. I grappled with his hands, my mouth moving desperately trying to breathe. My throat burned, lungs ached and the world began to dim. Carmine! I could only think his name, words didn’t belong to me anymore.
“What the fuck!” Carmine’s hand shot out, grabbing Christian by the back of the neck. Christian’s hands loosened their grip on me as Carmine’s tightened on him. Carmine threw Christian hard against the floor and punched him in the face. Blood spurted out of his nose and I pushed myself up, gathering my legs, and pulling them into my chest.
I rocked back and forth and took in huge gulps of air.. Tears poured down my face, feel of his finger violating me, causing bile to churned in my stomach.
“Mila, get out of here,” Carmine demanded.
My legs shook like a newborn calf taking their first steps. The normally short walk to the door felt like miles. It took every ounce of energy I had to get out of that room. It wasn’t until I was under the bright lights of the main area that I realized I probably wouldn’t see that extra cash and I admonished myself for even thinking that.
That mother fucker just tried to rape me and nearly strangled me to death. I should’ve called the cops and had his ass locked up, but this guy had some powerful people at his beck and call. It’d be a lose/lose situation. There was nothing I could do other than stay the hell away from him from now on.
“Fuck me,” I uttered as I sat down at the bar and motioned to Tammy, the bartender. “A shot of vodka, please,” I said and rested my elbow on the bar.
“You okay?” Ariana came up behind me just as Tammy placed the shot in front of me.
I picked it up and smiled. “No, but I will be.”
I had to be. This was my life and I didn’t have any other options. I’d give myself tonight to feel the fear, the anger, the disgust, but after that I had to suck it up and push it behind me. Come tomorrow I would be back on that stage earning money the only way I knew how.
Chapter 9
Knox
My opponent landed a hammerfist right to my eye. Pain radiated through my face, but I just laughed it off. Most people crumpled at pain, but for me, it fueled the fire. I blinked and tried to bring everything back into focus. He got one hit in on me and I’d be damned if I let him get another.
I bounced back, getting in fighting position and mapping out my next move. He came at me and swung, but I blocked him. He tried again, but another block. The bastard got one good hit and suddenly, he was cocky as shit, thinking he’d be able to take me down.
That was never going to happen.
A few minutes in, I realized how predictable he was. He didn’t stand a chance against me. Early on in my career, I learned predictability was the one thing that could lead to your demise as a fighter. This was the reason I was on top of the fucking world. I never followed a pattern when I fought. Once your opponent figured you out, you were done. I would never fall into that trap. I was notorious for not following a script. My competition never knew what the fuck I was going to do next. Surprise was my best tactic.
I studied and trained hard. Coach taught me to hone my skills in multiple areas. I was a pro at boxing, karate, Muay Thai, wrestling, kickboxing and whatever else would help me get to the top and be as unpredictable as possible.
I threw a front leg hook kick and landed it. Stanton stumbled back, but quickly regained his composure. He got back in position, throwing a bunch of fists my way, but I used my hand to keep them from getting anywhere near me.
It was like I was sparring with Coach as he stood there doing nothing. I was getting fucking bored.
“Hit me.” I held my arms open. “Go ahead. Hit me.” I begged for it, but Stanton must have thought it was a trap because he just bounced back like a bitch.
He came back at me though and threw a wheel kick. I saw it coming a mile away and dodged it. I clipped him with a strong straight left and he shook his head as he navigated around me. At this point, I was just going for strikes, getting them in as much as I could while Stanton pussy-footed around a real fight.
Finally, he threw something worth going after, but I dodged it, got him back with a jab to the nose and took him down. He managed to keep me from posturing up for a few seconds. I overcame him, getting on top, and landed a few hard blows to his face. He used his legs to get me off of him and scrambled back to his feet.
Blood dripped from a cut on his eye, and I smiled at my handiwork. I got a few more hits in, and Stanton landed one more. Round three ended, and we went to the judges for the final decision, not that I needed them to tell me what I already knew. I was the goddamn champion.
I walked to my side of the cage and finally acknowledged the crowd and my friends who were front row.
Coach patted my shoulder, and handed me a bottle of water. “Good fight. How’s the eye?”
“Fine,” I said, and he laughed.
“You would say that.” He turned and yelled. “Get him some ice, will ya.”
“Ice?” I asked.
“You’re bruising.”
“Don’t even feel it.” I smiled.
“You’re a sick bastard.” He grabbed the ice from someone and pushed it against my eye.
A few minutes later, we went to the middle of the ring and the ref declared me the winner. A reporter came in, shoving a microphone in my face, and the questions started flying. I soaked up the screams and cheers from the crowd, loving every second of admiration.
Once it was finally over, I headed back to my house for a celebration party. My sponsor wanted a big bash, and I wanted to be home so we compromised. Julius told me he’d be in charge of the entertainment, so God only knew what the hell I was about to walk into.