Free Body Lock: MMA Sports Romance by Grace Hugh

might be taking her place on his arm. I close my eyes surprised at my own disappointment.
    "You're going to rehab tomorrow," Vinnie says.
    It's not a question, it's a command. Vinnie doesn't ask questions and he doesn't make requests. He says what he wants and damn well gets it. We’re nothing more than possessions to him. Possessions don’t get a choice. Mom bursts into tears and she screams and cries. I ignore her, after all this is a woman who just heard her man call me his arm candy and her fear I’d take her place was the only reason she tried to stop it. Besides, she needs to go to rehab.
    Vinnie looks at me and frowns. "Why are you still standing there?"
    "I don't know."
    "Don't know what?" Vinnie asks his voice dropping even lower.
    I have to think fast. What am I going to say? I remember Jans’ first rule ‘Don't piss Vinnie off’ .
    "What to wear?"
    "Lou will help you," Vinnie says and turns his back on me.
    "Vinnie, please, please, baby," my mom begs, crawling after him on her knees.
    God, I really can't stand her. She's pathetic. I turn my back on her and on Vinnie, too, then head upstairs to my bedroom. Lou's heavy footsteps follow along behind. As I enter my room, my nerves start to get the best of me and I'm shaking. I go to my closet and pull out some of the dresses that Vinnie has bought for me. I lay them out on the bed and present them to Lou. Lou looks them over surprisingly close. He touches each one, feels the fabric between his fingers, then holds it up and looks at it front and back.
    "I like this one," Lou says picking one at last.
    The one he's picked out is a simple black dress that is overall modest. I'm grateful for this choice as some of the dresses that Vinnie has put into my closet aren't things that I would ever wear. They're the kind of dresses my mom wears for stripping. They’re more than a little inappropriate for a high school girl and I'm not my mother.
    "Thank you, Lou," I say, hoping he'll get the hint I'd like him to leave my room now.
    My hope is dashed when he just stands there staring at me. The two of us stand for a long time, neither one saying a word. I grow more and more uncomfortable wondering if he actually expects me to undress in front of him. At last I decide to grab the bull by the horns and see what happens.
    "Lou?" I ask.
    "Huh?" he asks.
    "Would you mind stepping outside?" I ask.
    "Oh! Yeah, sorry," he says and leaves the room.
    Once I'm alone and the door is shut, I change clothes quickly. I don't want to keep Vinnie waiting and I have to admit at least part of me is excited to see Jans fight. I know he's strong and that he's been training for this. Vinnie has had some of the top trainers in the world coming to the house to work with Jans. He calls him his secret weapon. I don't know exactly what he means by that but maybe tonight I'll find out. Besides, how can I pass up an opportunity to see Jans without a shirt on? My mouth goes dry at the thought. Despite everything, all the fear, all the doubt, I find I’m excited to go. Once I'm dressed, I open the door and Lou is standing outside waiting patiently. He looks me up and down very carefully then smiles and nods.
    "Good choice," he says like he wasn't the one who just picked it out.
    "Thank you, Lou," I say.
    Lou leads the way downstairs then goes straight outside. The limo is waiting for us in the circle drive. The chauffeur has the door open and stands waiting. The two guards to either side of the main doors stiffen as I walk out behind Lou.
    "Hurry the hell up. we’re gonna be late," Vinnie's booming voice echoes out of the limousine.
    Lou doesn't speed up. He walks towards the limousine with his easy pace seemingly unperturbed by Vinnie's yelling. The chauffeur stands behind the open door and Lou steps to the side letting me go in first. This is only the second time I've been in the limousine and once again I'm impressed with its opulence. Vinnie already has a drink in his hand and is staring out the