Page 99 of My Undead Heart

“Sorry.” I shake my head and blow out another breath to clear my thoughts from that bastard. I need to focus on the reason I’m here. Get back in the locker room with Salvador and Xavier. But first I need to make Mia feel welcome after the horrible greeting she just witnessed.

I take in her outfit as I step forward. Her legs appear miles long in that short skirt; the ripped netting of her tights doesn’t help divert my gaze. An “I love dead things,” block letter T-shirt would appear simple if the fabric didn’t hug her breasts and show off her ample cleavage with the V-neck. She’s made up her face differently though, with an imaginary line down the center splitting her into a half beauty queen, half zombie woman.

“Thank you for coming.” I reach forward and am relieved when she threads her fingers through mine.

“I said I would.” Her lips and eyes are still impassive, not giving me insight into her thoughts, and I hope she’ll forgive the altercation she witnessed between me and my father.

“So, what happened here ...” I point to the side of her face that’s one hundred percent Mia. “You missed a pretty big spot.”

She shrugs. “Think Jekyll and Hyde, the Zombie-Mia version.”

“I like it.” I stare and think of all the things I should say. How I should explain my dad, my mom, and my fall from grace, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Her gaze drops with disappointment, but when she lifts her chin again there’s a smile on her lips. “It’s exciting out there.”

“Yeah, just wait until we get closer to the main event. Did you catch the first fight?” I ask but she shakes her head with a no. The roar from inside reaches us where we stand. “It was brutal. He’s okay, on his way to the hospital just to be sure. I hope you don’t mind a little blood. Things can get pretty gross.”

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?” She points at her face and the side painted like decayed open flesh wounds. “I think I’ll be good.”

“You’re p—” I almost say perfect. The word’s on the tip of my tongue, but instead I clear my throat and add, “Probably right. You can handle more gore than most of my fighters. Speaking of which, I need to go check on them.”

Taking her hand in mine, I pull her toward the room where my guys wait.

“What do you all do beforehand? Backstage?” She nods down the hallway. “File your toenails? Warm up with a quick round of jazzercise? Wait, I know! Watch cooking tutorials on YouTube.”

“Nah.” I laugh and shake my head, stopping when we reach the door marked South Side. I run my fingers through my hair and tuck it behind my ears. “Sorry to disappoint but Salvador is most likely stretching and Xavier’s lying on the table listening to Metallica on repeat.”

She winces. “Wow. I would’ve pegged him more as a Tupac kinda guy.”

“Is that because he’s black?” She’s never made a racist comment before, but that doesn’t mean she’s not.

Mia laughs out loud but when I don’t join in she shakes her head. “You’re serious? No. It’s nothing to do with that.” Her brows draw together and she glances over her shoulder.

“I guess I better go back inside,” she mutters and won’t meet my gaze.

God, I’m acting every bit a jerk. It’s as if I can’t help myself. I’m always an intolerable asshole after seeing my father. “Find your seat, okay?”

“Yeah. I’m right next to your brother.” She nods.

“My uncle out there yet?”

“You have an uncle? Is he also a dickwad?” She lifts her brow and for a moment I wonder if she’s insinuating I’m the dick, but then realize the reference is to my father.

“Oh, no.” I blow out a breath. “He’s nothing like Pop. He’ll love you.”

She inhales deeply and blows it out in a rush. “Oh, goodie. The whole family is here.” She tries to smile but she’s obviously uncomfortable. After what she witnessed with my father I’m not surprised. Maybe a little disappointed. She shoves her hands into her back pockets and meets my gaze. “What about your mom?”

Doesn’t matter how long it’s been or how many times someone asks, that question still packs the same punch. My face falls before I can right it. I open my mouth but Mia reaches out to touch my arm.

“She’s gone.” I manage to get out.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t know. How long since?”

“She passed eight years ago. Cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.”

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