Chapter 13

Killian reached for my hand, helping me out of the limo and into the limelight. The glare from the flashing camera lights made me dizzy. Both he and Teo had warned me that the event was going to be chaos, and all of Atlantic City a madhouse, but good heavens, it was early afternoon and we’d only just arrived!

I had asked his new sponsor, Epic Sports, to book the limo under a separate name and keep Killian’s arrival low key. “Sure, sure,” the coordinator had promised me. “Whatever the champ wants.”

The thing was, now that Killian’s followers had almost tripled, and Epic Sports sales had skyrocketed as a result of his Twitter and Facebook endorsements, it was evident that they planned to milk their wonder boy for all he was worth. As it was, a team of men in Epic Sports T-shirts had gathered along the door, trying to snag Killian’s attention.

I should have just asked one of Killian’s brothers to drive us, but as I watched them hurry to form an arc in front of us, I realized that sounded better in theory. They were justifiably proud of their brother, not to mention that they were totally loving the attention and perks Killian’s status brought them.

Instead of attempting to settle the horde of people elbowing one another to draw closer, the supersized O’Briens fueled the excitement surrounding Killian’s arrival. Angus, Seamus, Declan, and Curran held out their hands, demanding that the crowd back away, yelling that “the champ needs to focus,” hollering to “give the champ some space,” and insisting “the champ and his supermodel girlfriend need room to breathe.”

My head jerked up at Killian. Supermodel girlfriend?

The corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. “Just let them have their fun.”

The flashing lights grew brighter as we stepped onto the immense casino’s red carpet. I wasn’t sure where to look. Killian curled his arm around my waist, leading me forward while a gang of sports journalists shoved mics into his face.

“Kill, you ready for Marsh?”

Killian smiled, his demeanor easy, as if we were walking along the beach. “You should be asking Marsh if he’s ready for me.”

“Kill, is it true Mateo Tres Santos—an ex-con—helped you prepare for this fight?”

My body tensed, but Killian’s smile only widened. “That’s right.”

More flashing lights, more questions ripping through the air all at once:

“Shouldn’t that worry you?”

“What would your fans think—knowing you associate with an ex-criminal?”

“With so many choices, why an ex-con?”

Killian remained unfazed. “Mateo and I grew up together. He’s a friend—one I’d trust with those I love.” He shrugged. “He survived prison and kept his heart. That’s the kind of man I want on my side.”

He winked at me when I smiled up at him. But my show of gratitude for his defense of my brother earned me attention I hadn’t counted on. “Who’s this, Kill?” a female reporter asked, edging her way forward.

“My girl, Sofia.” He pointed at her. “Watch it, Denise. She’s taken.”

That earned him a few laughs and a blush on my behalf.

“Sofia,” a big voice in the back boomed. “You think your man has what it takes to get it done?”

Lights exploded in my sight as the press waited for me to answer. It was too hard to look at them—they scrutinized, they judged, they watched like hawks waiting to pounce on anything they perceived as prey.

Killian wasn’t prey. I wouldn’t be either.

I looked back at him and smiled softly. “I know he’ll make me proud.”

The questions and madness continued until the bouncers Mateo knew from his former club days held the press back enough so we could make our way inside. Mateo thought they’d be good for show. Killian agreed, and was also cool with their fee—tickets to the match and dinner at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The O’Briens hurried forward while Killian pulled me to the side. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I meant that. I was with him. There was nothing to fear. That would change the next night when he met Marsh. I was glad his brothers and Wren were there. I only wish my family was, too.

Teo hadn’t liked the idea of his wife and infant son in Atlantic City, and he hated being away from them even more. So he didn’t come, and Killian hadn’t pushed him to. As I continued to look around, I realized another shoulder to lean on wouldn’t have hurt. Hopefully, though, I could make up for my brother’s absence.

Killian’s hand trailed down my bare arm. It was sweet how he wasn’t shy about letting the public know that we were together. And now that I realized just how much attention he would attract, I was glad I’d splurged on new clothes.

Evie was nice enough to accompany me on my shopping trip. I knew little about fashion and tended to select clothes that looked good on the mannequin. Evie’s sense of style, though, was epic. I couldn’t get over the gorgeous patterns and bold colors she’d selected—or the cut. While the skirts remained long, each piece was a combination of sweet and sexy, and had Killian’s eyes widening when I’d tried them on for him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he asked.

He had, and had proven as much by stripping me out of the red dress I was wearing an hour before we left Philly. My forehead fell against his shoulder. “Yes. But I like hearing you say it.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he murmured. He held my hands and bent to kiss me, but our kiss didn’t last. The front doors of the hotel crashed open as the press stormed in and attempted to capture the intimate moment between us.

The bouncers rushed forward, and so did a cluster of hotel security, pushing everyone back. Killian adjusted his position so that his body blocked me from view and his face was out of camera shot. “The press is out of control.”

“This isn’t typical?” I asked.

He shook his head. “They’re crazier this time around—this fight has bigger names, bigger stakes.” The angles of his face hardened. “They’ll probably want to write about more than just the match.”

I didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “Like what?”

“Like dirt. Shit they shouldn’t be messing with.”

“Is that even tolerated? Those are major news stations out there. I would imagine they’d be held to higher standards.”

Killian thought about it. “The main ones, probably. But there’s more than just the big guns here. MMA has taken off. A lot of fighters are dating celebrities now. That attention brings the paparazzi—asshats who want to catch the shit that goes on outside the ring, and who would risk pissing me off to get a reaction.”

I straightened, realizing what he was trying to tell me. “You think they might use me to get to you.”

That edge Killian carried sharpened to a lethal blade. “If they do, they’ll get exactly what they’re looking for.”

I pushed my hair out of my face. Killian didn’t have anything to be ashamed of, or a past that could be thrown in his face. I couldn’t say the same. “I shouldn’t have come.”

He leaned back on his heels. “That’s not true. You belong here with me.”

I thought of some of the things the press might say. While Killian could let things roll off his back when they were directed at him, that wasn’t the case when it came to me. “You have to promise you won’t let anything they say about me rile you.”

Killian tightened his jaw.

I squeezed his hands. “I’m serious. If what you say is true, you know they’ll try to bait you. Look at how they threw Teo’s prison time in your face.”

The stance he maintained told me two things: one, that he was expecting the press to try to use me, and two, no way would he tolerate it. “As my girlfriend, you’re off limits. If they disrespect that, I’ll disrespect them.”

I didn’t like this. “Killian…”

“Sofia, I won’t make you a promise that I can’t keep. If the press messes with you, they’re going to get a lot more than they bargained for.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“But that’s how it’s going to be.”

Finn and Wren hurried forward before I could argue, but even with more time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to change Killian’s mind. I understood and appreciated his loyalty to me, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be upset if he lashed out in my defense.

“Suite’s ready,” Finn said. “You want to head up?”

Killian answered with a stiff nod, but kept his focus on me as the rest of his family gathered around us. “Do me a favor, keep tabs on Sofia. I don’t want her with less than two of youz at all times.”

Seamus frowned. “Someone giving her shit?”

Killian watched me. “The press is circling like sharks. Don’t want her bit, you feel me?”

His request was followed by a bunch of “you got its” and “no problems.” Well, except for Angus, the oldest, and the most vocal next to Wren. “Anyone gets near Sofia, I’m punching him in the fucking throat.”

I groaned. Killian worrying about me was the last thing he needed.

Wren rubbed my back. “She’ll be fine, Kill. We’ll make sure of it. Come on. Let’s go up. You got the penthouse. They gave the rest of us the floor below….”

Killian’s workout in the gym was closely observed by a cluster of press. That group didn’t compare to the gang of cameramen and reporters gathered at the press conference later that afternoon. Each fighter was featured alongside his opponent. Killian and Marsh were no exception.

Marsh had Gil, Killian’s ex-trainer, sit between him and Killian. Killian asked Finn to be his wingman, allowing his little brother to share the spotlight and giving him an opportunity to discuss his upcoming match in New York.

“Marsh!” a reporter in jeans and a tight green shirt called from the back. “What do you plan to do to Kill in the ring?”

“Fucking rip off his head,” Marsh answered, growling his way. “Then shove my fist through his gaping neck and pull out his stomach.”

Good Lord. This was Killian’s opponent!

Wren gave my hand a squeeze from where we sat in the front. “I don’t think this asshole’s mother hugged him enough as a kid. What do you think, Sofe?” she asked.

I nodded, agreeing. Marsh didn’t strike me as the most stable guy in the room.

“Kill!” another guy asked. “What do you have to say to that?”

Killian smirked. “I see Marsh has given this a lot of thought. But neither me or my innards are scared of him or his fists.”

That earned a laugh from everyone but Team Marsh.

Someone else spoke up. “Kill. What do you plan to do?”

Killian shrugged. “Win,” he answered, like it was obvious.

He winked when I smiled at him. While Marsh was all about beating his chest and making noise, Killian remained quiet and confident. He reminded me of the president of the free world. He didn’t have to scream that he was powerful. He simply was.

Someone knelt in front of me, shoving a mic in my face. “You’re Sofia Tres Santos, right?”

Wren and Declan leaned forward, trying to shield me. “Hey, asshole,” Declan snapped. “Back off, this isn’t her show.”

“Just talking, man,” the guy told him.

He wasn’t whispering. He was speaking loud enough for Killian to hear. I readied myself for what he was going to ask.

Nothing could have prepared me for his next question.

“I heard you were raped. How were you able to get past that?”

Declan and Wren had tried to yell over him, knowing he was looking for trouble. Seamus and Curran barreled their way through, even though Angus already had him by the collar of his polo.

Killian leapt over the table, knocking his and Gil’s mics onto the industrial carpet. Security scrambled from their positions along the wall, ramming him and attempting to shove him away.

I hurried to my feet, wanting to reach him, only to be blocked by a wall of bodies surging forward. Despite the aggressive and vocal responses from his brothers and sister, the members of the press ignored them and rushed Killian. Cameras clicked like the sound of falling dominoes. Voices shouted his way, asking what was wrong, asking how he felt, asking if what had happened to me was true.

This was a total setup.

But no way would I allow Killian to look bad because of me.

I raised my hand. “Excuse me…excuse me.” My soft and shaking voice was lost among the screaming O’Briens and the uproar of the press. But I persisted until I finally caught the attention of someone—Denise, the sole female reporter of the group. She saw the opportunity I was offering and took it.

She edged her way forward, speaking into the mic. “Anarchy has been unleashed here at the press conference for the well-publicized super heavyweight MMA match between Killian O’Brien and Marshall Anderson. Miss, can you tell us what’s happening?” she asked, sticking the mic in my face.

My voice and body had begun to shake, but I forced myself to speak. “That reporter asked me about my rape.”

Another camera turned my way, followed by another. I kept my attention on Denise, whose eyes widened briefly. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that, miss?” she asked.

I nodded, well aware of the murmurs spreading along the room and the flashes of light now aimed in my direction. “It’s Sofia. Sofia Tres Santos,” I responded, as a means of introduction. “I’m here with Killian.”

I swallowed hard, hoping to settle the trembling in my voice. Wren and Declan helped by positioning themselves on either side of me. “I was just asked about my rape,” I repeated, glancing back at the reporter Angus had only just released. I focused on the man’s sweating crown line; it was easier than watching his expression or wondering if it would change based on what I had to say. “You asked me how I moved on after what happened to me. I imagine it’s similar to the way that the other one in five women who are raped get past it. I keep going,” I answered simply. “I want to live. I want to be happy. So I keep going…even though it’s something I’ll never forget.”

The quiet in the room was so heavy, I almost felt I could reach out and squeeze it between my fingers. If I’d had to say more, I don’t think I could have managed. But Denise didn’t push, and offered me the reprieve I needed. “Thank you, Sofia,” she said.

I nodded and lowered myself to my seat, alert to those who kept watching me. Denise signed off, then turned to glare at the man who’d started it all. She didn’t say anything to him, but her cameraman did. He switched off his device and scowled. “You’re a piece of shit, Mark,” he told him.

Yeah. He was.

Killian’s family gathered around me, taking up the seats closest to me to form a barrier. I used the floral silk wrap I’d brought to cover my trembling hands. Declan put his arm around me, but it was Killian I trained my eyes on. His stare could have crushed bricks, yet he and Finn eased their way back to the conference table as someone hurried to reposition the toppled mics.

“Ready to move on?” Killian asked, his tone murderous. “Or does anyone else have more inappropriate questions they’d like to ask my girlfriend?”

The fight’s coordinator clapped to get everyone’s attention. “All right, people. Let’s keep this moving. Time’s a-wasting….”

I managed to stay for the remainder of the press conference. The minute it ended, Wren, Declan, and Angus whisked me away. The idiot, Mark, had really done a number on me. But it was the “poor girl” comment I’d caught on my way out that momentarily halted my steps.

We returned to the massive penthouse we’d been given. I told Wren and Killian’s brothers that they didn’t have to stay, that I didn’t mind waiting for Killian alone. They collectively shook their heads.

“We don’t want you all by yourself, in case they keep Kill longer,” Angus said. He offered me a one-shoulder shrug. “Besides, you’re family. We watch out for our own.”

I smiled, trying hard not to cry with grateful tears. That reporter had hit a nerve. Despite the passage of time and knowing his intentions, the pain remained raw. “Thank you.” I motioned to our suite. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to wait in the bedroom.”

“Whatever you want, Sofia,” Declan said. “We’re here if you need us, honey.”

Killian stormed in moments later. “Where’s Sofia?”

“Bedroom,” Wren said. “We’ll be downstairs ordering food in. You want anything?”

“No. I think it’ll just be me and Sofia tonight.”

“Okay,” Declan said. “You know where to find us.”

The doors leading out to the elevator were clicking shut when Killian marched into the bedroom. His steps slowed when he found me staring out the wall of glass that stretched along the length of the suite and gave a spectacular view.

I glanced over my shoulder and forced a smile. “Do you want to sit outside? The sun’s almost ready to set.”

I stretched out my hand as he walked to me, but allowed him to lead us out onto the terrace. The breeze swirling in from the Atlantic fluttered my hair around me and made me shudder. Killian tucked me against him, trying to keep me warm against the coolness the high elevation caused.

His warmth was as welcome as his touch, but the protectiveness behind his hold was the trigger to my emotions. I wouldn’t cry, I reminded myself.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

So much for not crying. I wiped my tears with my fingertips and sniffed. “Mean people suck.”

“They can also be pretty damn manipulative. I swear to Christ, I could’ve broken him in half.”

I leaned into him. “I’m glad you didn’t. It would have been exactly what he and his buddies needed to throw you under the bus.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about getting thrown under the bus—I can handle it. But what that motherfucker did was straight-up bullshit—he had no right dragging you into this.”

“I handled it.” The shaking in my voice and my tears stopped as I allowed my words to sink in. It was true. As hard as it was for me to speak so publicly about my rape, I did manage and took control of the situation.

Killian kissed the top of my head. “You more than handled it, baby. You called him out and made me proud.”

Nothing Killian could have said would have affected me more…well, almost nothing. I reached up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to keep dwelling on what happened.”

Killian’s hand stroked the small of my back. “Sofia, we can do whatever you want.”

I smiled. “Then let’s watch the sunset.”

In the silence that followed, the deep yellow globe faded in the distance. Today had been rough and it had been my turn to fight. Tomorrow would be Killian’s. I didn’t want to admit how scared I was to watch him climb into that Octagon. But just like he was brave for me, I had to offer him the same.

I only hoped I could manage.