Pas de Deux: Part Two (A Cross and Pointe Novel Book 2) (15 page)

“Killy might not've fought at one of these fancy things before,” Murphy waved a hand around the upscale hotel, “but he ain't no stranger to fightin'. He'll be fine.”

“Just fine,” Melody echoed, patting Sammi's hand briefly. “You understand these types of tournaments?”

Sammi shook her head. “Not really. Cillian tried explaining it to me once but it went over my head.”

“Okay.” Melody pushed her plate aside and reached for a napkin. She pulled a pen out of her purse and began sketching a bracket.

“So, you got sixteen guys, right? First bout today will be the first round of eliminations. The fighters will be randomly paired up, with the best ones not meeting until later. That's called a seed. With me?”

Sammi nodded.

“Eight of them will advance, eight of them will have to pack their bags and drag their sorry asses back home. Tomorrow, the second bout will be the eight winners from today, who'll fight each other in a similar seeding. Four proceed, four go home. Then,
those
four will be matched up in longer rounds. Then, the final two will face off.” Melody pushed the sketch toward Sammi. “Normally, it's just one winner, but this promoter is doing three, so, the final three guys will be winning some money.”

“How long is each round?”

“Fights today will be three five-minute rounds. Tomorrow, the first bout of fights are also gonna be three five-minute rounds. The second bout will be five three-minute rounds, and the very last bout will be five five-minute rounds.”

Sammi's eyes had started to glaze over but she shook her head. “Right. Got it. Lots of fights.”

Melody grinned at her. “Lots of fights, Killy wins. That's all you need to worry about.”

Murphy glanced at his watch. “We should probably head over. We don't know which seed Cillian's gonna be in, and we don't wanna miss anything.”

Sammi nodded and reached for her purse, intending to pay for her mostly untouched lunch. Murphy stopped her with an outstretched hand and a wry look, shaking his head. He dropped some cash on the table to cover the tab and rose from his chair.

“Thanks.” Sammi smiled. “I owe you a beer or something.”

“Make it two,” he replied. “Let's go, ladies.”

They met Matthews and Jess in the lobby, and Sammi frowned, eyeing Jess's mini-dress and heels. Where she'd felt confident and cool before, by herself upstairs, she now felt almost slobby next to Jess's and Melody's sleek ensembles.

Should've worn the fucking dress.

As the group headed out the door, three young women just outside smoking cigarettes turned in their direction, sizing up Sammi.

“That's the girl with Killy Ronan,” one of them said, giving Sammi a pointed head-to-toe look.

“Hope you don't mind sharin', honey,” another girl said. She was the prettiest of the three, with deep tanned skin and long, jet black hair. She smiled condescendingly at Sammi. “'Cause I'm about to snatch that boy right from under you.”

Sammi stopped in her tracks, staring at the girl. “I don't share. And you won't be snatching anything.
Honey
.”

“Sammi, let's go.” Melody tugged on Sammi's arm. “You ladies have a nice day.”

“Tell him hi for me,” the pretty girl called.

“Ugh!” Sammi shook her head.

Jess glanced over her shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “Try not to let it get to you, Sammi. Hate to say, but this weekend's just getting started.”

Sammi suddenly remembered that Matthews used to fight; that meant Jess was no stranger to aggressive women. “How did you deal with that? I can't go around punching people all weekend. I only have two fists.”

Matthews snorted and Jess smiled. “It used to be hard for me. But you just get used to it. Honestly, if you just ignore them, they'll stop. Plus, Josh doesn't fight anymore, so, that lessens my chances of going to jail for assault.”

Sammi forced a smile, her blood still running hotly in her veins.
I should've punched her perfect white teeth down her throat.
But she didn't want Cillian to make the news because she was starting fights over meaningless insults.

You're an adult, after all. And officially Cillian's girlfriend.
She thought about last night, and this morning, and blushed. He was all hers. There was nothing to worry about.

Just then, a stretch Hummer pulled up to the front of the hotel.

“What the hell is that?” Murphy asked.

“Hey, you guys!” Carl leaned out the window and Sammi could tell from here he was already a little drunk. “C'mon. Let's go see our boy get it
in
!”

“Hotel shuttle would've sufficed just fine,” Murphy said, an edge in his voice.

“This is how the big-time do it, old man. Get in!”

Murphy frowned and shook his head, but Melody shrugged and linked her arm with his. “C'mon, Pop.”

Sammi followed them. Carl extended a hand to help her inside, and Sammi pretended not to see it, climbing inside and sliding onto the leather seat next to Melody. To her annoyance, Carl took the seat across from her, his knees touching hers. He fixed her with a leering smile.

“Sleep well?”

Sammi frowned at the suggestive tone in his voice. “Fine. Thanks.”

“And Cillian?”

“You're his manager. Shouldn't you know that?”

“Think I already do.” He winked.

Fucking pervert.

“So how's he doing?” Melody asked.

“Good. Baz has been takin' him through some nice, easy drills this afternoon, some stretches. He's had lunch. Ready to go.”

The ride to the Armory was short and Sammi thought the limo would stop in front at the main entrance where floods of people were gathering, waiting to be let inside, but it drove around to the back of the center.

Least we don't have to fight through that enormous crowd.

Her relief was short-lived when she saw the horde of people at the back entrance.

“Press entrance,” Carl informed them. “Well, press
and
groupie entrance. Security can't keep 'em away. They know this is the place to be since all the fighters come this way.”

“Why are we allowed to come through here?” Murphy asked.

Carl shrugged. “It's also the friends-and-family priority entrance. You can get to the dressing rooms and the ring-side seating much easier this way.” The limo pulled to a stop and he reached for the door. He glanced at Sammi. “Brace yourself.”

She stepped out after him. In the next instant, she was overwhelmed with shouts for their attention. Security instantly recognized Carl and stepped forward to help their little group past the crowd.

Sammi fell behind as three reporters converged on her and shoved cell phones and microphones in her face.

“Who are you?” one of them demanded. “Are you with Carl Wilhelm?”

Sammi shook her head. “No, he manages my boyf—”

“Cillian Ronan,” another reporter interrupted. “He manages Cillian Ronan. Are you Ronan's guest?”

“Something like that.” Sammi tried to step away from them and rejoin her group. She couldn't even see them anymore, only several tall security guards that towered over the crowd.

“Are you his girlfriend?” the third reporter demanded. “Cillian Ronan has a girlfriend? What's your name?”

“Sam!”

Faintly, Sammi heard Melody's voice and ducked away from the reporters, trying to push through the crowd.

“Melody! Back here!”

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” Sammi glanced over her shoulder and saw another group of women right behind her, one of them yelling at her. “If
we
can't get in, you damn sure can't!”

Sammi glared at her and turned back around, finding herself face-to-face with a guard. A wave of relief washed over her. She pointed to the entrance.

“I'm supposed to be in there. Can you please help me?”

“That's what they all say,” he replied. “Nice try, though. You might wanna come at me with a tight dress next time.”

Sammi tried to peek around the security guard, catching a glimpse of Carl's back as he was ushered along by another guard.

“Carl!” she shouted.

He glanced over at her, making eye contact. She swore she saw him smirk the instant before he turned away, calling out to a leggy blonde standing just behind security.

“Carl!”

“Oh, now she's actin' like she knows important people,” another woman said, and several voices laughed at her.

A mixture of rage and anxiety tightened in her chest until she started shaking. Hands pushed at her back, shoving her against the security guard, who glared down at her.

“I'm with Carl Wilhelm!” Sammi pointed in the direction Carl had gone. “I'm with his group. They're probably still there, waiting for me. Can you please check?”

“We had security move them along. Sorry, miss. We can't allow you back there.”

“I drove here with them!”

“I didn't see you.”

“I'm here with Cillian Ronan.” She hated having to resort to using his name, but she was desperate. “He's fighting in the tournament.”

“Yeah, I know who Ronan is.” The guard rolled his eyes. “Half these groupies out here are for him. I never heard nothin' about him havin' a guest besides his family.”

“I'm his girlfriend,” Sammi pleaded. “I came with his father, his brother, his friends. I know his trainer, Jonathan Basanta. I know his manager, Carl. Just let me through, please.”

“Wilhelm didn't say nothin' about Ronan havin' no girlfriend.”

“Just
ask him
.” The agitation in her gut roared to its maximum. No one was listening to her, everyone was yelling at her. “He was supposed to put me on some list or something!”

“Well, Wilhelm is long gone now. And so's Ronan's family.”

Sammi clapped a hand to her forehead, trying to calm herself before she exploded. How the hell had things gone to shit in the matter of seconds?
Someone
had to have seen her get out of the limo. She unzipped her purse, rifling through it for her cell phone. She'd call Cillian herself.

It wasn't there.

Suddenly, a vision of her phone lying on the nightstand, plugged up to the charger, flashed through her brain, and she groaned aloud.

Just then, a foot sharply kicked her heel out from under her and she lost her footing and almost fell over. Sammi stumbled and the guard grabbed her arm.

“Get your ass back there where you belong, you thirsty bitch!” one of the women shouted at her. “Your story ain't workin', you ain't gettin' in.”

Before she could say anything, Sammi lurched forward again as a hard, cold object slammed into her back. She whirled around, gasping in pain, seeing a frozen water bottle rolling on the cement behind her. Her eyes shifted wildly from face to face, trying to determine the thrower so she could retaliate. The guard grabbed her arm again and pulled her away.

“Hey, knock that shit off!” he bellowed at the women. “Try that shit again, I'll have your asses locked up. Then ain't
none
of you are gettin' in!”

Sammi's chest heaved with rage when the guard turned back to her. “Listen, I don't believe your story for one second, but are you all right?”

“Just call Carl!” Sammi jerked her arm free. “Call Cillian. I'm telling you, I'm with them. This is bullshit!”

“I've got Wilhelm on his cell,” another security guard with an earpiece said. “Hold on.” He listened for a moment. “He's coming down now with Ronan.”

Sammi should have felt relief, but she was still trembling. This was a whole new level of stress and anger she'd never experienced.

If this is how the rest of the tournament is gonna be...I shouldn't have come.

Voices shouted at Sammi from all directions.

“I don't know who this bitch thinks she is.”

“She ain't shit.”

“Bring your ass back here, honey. I got somethin' way more fun than a bottle of water for you.”

“Shut the fuck
up
!” The security guard's neck bulged with angry veins. “Someone say something else. I will mace
all
of you, right now, just for pissing me off!”

“Sam!”

Sammi heard his voice and craned her neck. Cillian stood just behind the barricade, dressed only in his tournament shorts. She had never seen a look of fury on anyone's face like the one he sported now. Basanta stood next him, his face twisted with almost as much anger, talking rapidly at one of the guards and pointing at her.

And behind them both was Carl, his face blank, his arms folded over chest.

She hurried toward him, shoving past the guards, ignoring the rise in noise as both the women that had been aggressively taunting her and the reporters immediately started shouting to him.

“Who's that?”

“Why does she get to go in?”

“What's that girl's name?”

“Cillian, is that your girlfriend?”

Every sound threatened to crack the last of her nerves, but she focused on his angry face and rushed toward him.

“Ronan, this you?” A guard caught her by the shoulder just before she reached him and pressed her back.

“Yeah. Now get your fuckin' hand off her.” Cillian practically bared his teeth at the guard as he reached for Sammi.