Losing Me, Finding You(61)

“Shut the f*ck up, Gaine!” Mireya screams, standing up and shoving him violently in the chest. Gaine stumbles back a few steps, but I think the movement is more out of shock than anything else. “If I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it.” She turns to face me and takes a step forward, black eyes glittering dangerously. I notice she wears a lot of rings on her fingers, and I doubt that most of them are there for decoration.

“Just remember every time he slips inside of you, that he was inside of me first. When you're calling his name, remember that I called it out first. And remember when he tells you he loves you, he. told. me. first.” Mireya leans in so close that I can smell her perfume and see a tiny star tattoo at the edge of one of her eyes. “Enjoy the used goods, bitch.”

I don't think in that moment. How can I? My mind is racing and my heart is breaking. Animal instincts rise up from out of nowhere and tell me to protect my mate. Later, I suppose I might find this a bit embarrassing, but in the heat of that argument, I just feel pissed off.

My hand flies out of its own accord and cracks Mireya hard across the cheek, turning her face away from me with the motion. I blink once and she's on me, hitting me back, grabbing my hair and pulling me forward. My purse flies off my shoulder as I stumble.

Pain ricochets through my skull as Mireya slams my face into the side of one of the booths, knocking me back into Gaine's arms. I don't stay there long, using his body as a springboard to lunge forward and hit Mireya in the stomach, carrying us both to the ground where we roll around in a tangle of leather and hair and nails. We're both shouting at one another, but I can't hear what she's saying because my heart is pounding too loud in my head. You stupid bitch. It's your fault that Christy hates me, that my family thinks I'm a whore. One thing I know that I say out loud is this: “Austin is mine.”

Our fight draws a big crowd of Triple M'ers that surround us and hold Gaine back, watching the catfight with interest. When I see them surrounding us, I feel a bit silly. This isn't how things are supposed to work, I realize as I take a step back and wipe blood away from my nose. Two women fighting over a man? One of the reasons that I wanted to leave my hometown was that I was tired of living in the dark ages, and yet, I'm making the biggest mistake of all. I should be confronting Austin, not Mireya. We both should. This isn't about us; it's about him. I hold my eyes up to block Mireya's next hit, intending to get out of this, when I hear her next words.

“I bet your nasty, little preacher daddy whacked off to that video in his confessional. I bet every damn man in your whole shitty church did. Don't have much else to do in the middle of hick country, am I right?”

My arms fly out and wrap around Mireya's ebony waves, pulling her towards me and refusing to weaken, not even when she punches me in the face with her rings. Blood sprays out of my nose like a fountain. It's one of the worst things I've ever seen, splattering Mireya's bronze cheeks with red as I choke and cough against the rush of fluids in my throat. Oh, God, I hope it isn't broken. I slam my forehead against her face, wincing at the pain but grateful when she lets go of me and we separate, so I can catch my breath.

Both of us are breathing hard and there's an exorbitant amount of blood (mostly mine) sprinkling our faces and shirts.

“You don't have anything to say to me before I kick your ass?” Mireya asks, scooping her long hair back and putting it into a quick ponytail. Her mistake. As soon as she lifts her hands up, I charge her and hit her so hard that she falls back and crashes against the marble floor with a grunt. My fist pulls back and hits her in the jaw once, twice, three times before she grabs my earrings and tears them from my lobes, making me scream. My nails come out and rake down her face and arms and chest, drawing long, angry welts as she reaches out and punches me again, dislodging me from my position and throwing me to the floor.

Her boot comes out of nowhere and makes contact with my stomach. I gag and blood comes up, staining the lobby carpet. Still, nobody moves in to help, not even the employees.

“You like that, bitch?” Mireya asks, kicking me again, even harder this time. I reach out and grab her ankle, pulling with all my strength and knocking Sawyer to her knees hard. I roll over and kick out sharply, hitting her in the belly. It doesn't feel as good as I thought it would. Instead, when my toe sinks into her soft belly, I feel sick.

I struggle to sit up, watching her warily out of the corner of my eye and nearly pass out when a sandy head appears behind the crowd and the people part, revealing Austin Sparks to the two of us. He stands there for a very, very long time looking from her to me and back again. His brown eyes take in the blood and the broken earrings with no emotion whatsoever; he's completely and utterly neutral. After one of the world's most awkward silences, Austin steps over to me and bends down, sliding his arms under my body and lifting me from the floor in a dizzying rush. Already, I can hear Mireya sobbing. Still, Austin says nothing to her, taking me through the crowd of bikers, past the baffled hotel employees and up the stairs.

He carries me the whole way there and sets me in our bed before disappearing into the bathroom and turning on the shower. When he comes back into the room, he's naked and he's holding out a hand for me.

“Come on, Cross,” he says, taking me by the wrist and pulling me to my feet. Austin then proceeds to strip me down until I'm standing completely buck naked in front of him, bruised and bleeding and shameful. I lower my chin and look away from his face, down at the floor by our feet.