Gladiator

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Gladiator Page 14

by E. L. Todd


  And maybe the destiny we had together could change the world.

  ***

  Wilder gave me more time to recuperate from what happened. Instead of putting me back to work and digging in to my training, he allowed me to relax. He would leave early in the morning for work, and by the time he came back, I was just opening my eyes.

  There were times when we left the house and had a snowball fight. Other times we would head into the village and take a sleigh ride around with Clydesdale horses. And sometimes we wouldn’t do anything at all. We would stay in bed and read while the other just lay there. I suspected it was the only time in his life he actually kicked back and relaxed.

  I lay on my side and stared out the window with the sheets up to my shoulder. Wilder lay behind me, his iPad resting against his extended knee.

  “Sweetheart?” His quiet voice fell on my ears like gentle snow.

  I didn’t like it when guys called me names like that. I wasn’t a big fan of cutie-pie, baby, or sexy. But Wilder made it something special. Actually, I preferred it when he called me that. It made me feel special even if I wasn’t really his. “Gladiator?”

  He paused for thirty seconds. “What did you just call me?”

  “Gladiator,” I repeated. “You know, a warrior. A fighter.”

  “I know what it means,” he said. “I’m just confused as to why you’re calling me that.”

  “You’re the champion of the people. It fits you.” I looked at him over my shoulder.

  His lips were pressed tightly together in an indifferent façade, but his eyes lightened at the endearments. It was clear it meant something to him, even if he didn’t outright say it.

  “What were you going to say, Gladiator?” I settled back down and rested my head on the pillow.

  “I’m not trying to be insensitive, but we need to get back to work. You still have a lot to learn.”

  I knew this vacation wouldn’t last forever. It was surprising he gave me any kind of leeway at all. I assumed it was forbidden to have any kind of emotion interrupt your work ethic, but Wilder cut me some slack. “Okay.”

  He fell silent because he’d been expecting me to say something else, probably argumentative. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He released a faint chuckle. “Don’t ever call me that.”

  “Aren’t you my boss?”

  “Yes. But Wilder will do.”

  “How about Gladiator?”

  There was another pause. “That works too.” He set his iPad on the nightstand next to his phone then got out of bed. “I’m going to shower before dinner.”

  “Okay.” I turned over so I could see his ass in his sweatpants as he walked. Even through the baggy clothing, I could tell it was nice. I’d sink my teeth into it if I had the chance.

  He shut the door behind him, and a moment later, the sound of running water fell on my ears.

  I lay flat on my back and looked at the place where he’d been laying just seconds ago. His imprint was still on the sheets, and they smelled like him too. Like a weirdo, I ran my hand across it, trying to absorb some of his essence.

  That’s when his phone vibrated on the nightstand.

  I’d spent a lot of time with Wilder, and not once did I see him with a phone. It was stupid to assume he didn’t have one because that just wasn’t possible. But I found it a bit odd.

  The screen was still lit up and there was a text message on the screen.

  In town? Come tomorrow night. It was from someone named Jessica.

  The second I read the words, I felt sick to my stomach. Wilder and I had been hibernating for months, and I forgot about the outside world. It was easy to think it was just him and I. But now I remembered how untrue that was. We shared the same bed every night, and his arms were wrapped around me in a protective cocoon. But that didn’t change anything.

  He still wasn’t mine.

  Wilder insisted on freedom to do whatever he wanted. He claimed monogamy was impossible, and he didn’t have the heart or soul to do it. It didn’t matter if he cared about me, even if it was more than anyone else. That aspect of him hadn’t changed.

  And it never would.

  ***

  We finished sparring and weight lifting during the first part of the day. Now, we sat down against the back wall where a few computers were located. My forehead was shiny from sweat, and my muscles screamed with pain. Having the past two weeks off put my body back months.

  Wilder opened a folder and pushed it toward me. Inside was a picture of a bald man with glasses. He wasn’t bald due to age, but because he shaved. He looked like he might be in his early forties.

  I glanced at it then looked up at Wilder.

  He searched me for a reaction.

  “Uh, who is this?”

  “Do you recognize him?”

  “No.” I’d never seen that man in my life.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Believe me, I would remember if I saw a creepy guy like that.

  “Look again.”

  I held back the urge to roll my eyes and did as he asked. When I looked at the picture again, nothing changed. There was no recognition or familiarity. “Wilder, I’ve never seen him before.”

  He sighed in disappointment. “Does the name Marcos sound familiar? Have you overheard your dad say it on the phone?”

  “No.”

  He took the folder back. “Gray, I need you to think clearly. This is very important.”

  “I know,” I snapped. “I didn’t assume you’re asking me this question for fun.”

  He didn’t rise at my aggression. “Are you sure you’ve never seen this guy or heard your dad say his name?”

  “No. Wilder, I didn’t spy on my dad or eavesdrop on his conversations. I assumed he was a CIA agent so I wasn’t suspicious of terrorist activity. I wish I could be more helpful but I simply can’t.”

  He clutched the folder in his hands. “Gray, you’re my only lead. I had him in my grasp out of sheer luck. I’m not going to get so lucky a second time.”

  I wanted to catch my father more than anything. He deserved to be thrown in a cell to serve the rest of his life behind bars, and not just because he murdered my mom. He killed so many others. A man like that shouldn’t be free. “I can go back to the house and search it.”

  “He’s long gone.”

  “But he might have left something behind.”

  “He’s a professional,” he said. “He wouldn’t leave even his fingerprint.”

  My body deflated in sadness.

  “Would it hurt just to make sure?”

  “I’m not letting you go back there. Too dangerous.”

  “How is it dangerous?” I asked. “Why would he hang around the one place he knows you’ll look for him?”

  “He won’t. But he’ll have someone watch the house. Gray, you’re his enemy now. He’ll be searching for you.”

  The idea that my own father might try to hurt me, the man who used to call me Unicorn, was disconcerting.

  “I can go myself but I know I won’t find anything. And it’s not worth the risk of being followed.”

  I eyed the folder again and felt disappointed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more.”

  “Gray, you must know something.” He had a stack of folders beside him, obviously pictures of men my father was connected to. “You lived with him your whole life, and you figured out he was an agent somehow. Try to think.”

  “I’m not yanking your chain, Wilder. I’m being as cooperative as possible.”

  “Then tell me something.”

  I searched my brain. “Well, I figured out what he was because he owns so many guns. They’re stashed all over the house. He taught me how to fight when I was eight years old, and I was twelve when I held a gun for the first time. That’s not normal.”

  Wilder listened at the edge of his seat.

  “He went on busine
ss trips all the time—”

  “What did he say he was doing?”

  “He said he was a financial consultant, and his job was to delegate wealth for large companies. So, pretty vague.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “I’m not sure because he was lying most of the time. But he claimed to travel to England and France a lot. One time, I got a look at his ticket and it said he went to Hong Kong.”

  He nodded like that was helpful.

  “I’ve heard him have unusual conversations. I couldn’t make out everything he said, but he always spoke in a different tone, like he was bossing someone around. For a while, I thought he was seeing someone new and he just wasn’t ready to tell me. But then I realized he was talking to someone else, possibly an employee.”

  “Good,” he said. “You don’t have a name.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “The weapons stored in the house, where are they from?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “When I came home, they were just there. I never thought about asking him.”

  He nodded again.

  “What if you sent me under cover?” It was an outrageous idea, but sometimes crazy things worked. “I could pretend to think he’s the good guy and you’re the bad guy. I managed to escape from you and now I’m looking for protection. When I’m under his wing, I can get information.”

  Wilder rejected the idea in record time. “That’s a suicide mission. He would shoot you at point blank range.”

  Despite everything I knew about my father, the idea of him murdering me broke my heart.

  “And he would never buy that story. Despite your skill level, he knows there’s no way I would let you go. The idea of you slipping through my fingers is almost comical.”

  “Thanks…”

  “I’m just saying,” he said. “I don’t know him, but he can’t be one of the greatest terrorists in the world if he’s stupid and gullible.”

  “He must have some sort of soft spot for me…”

  “He doesn’t. I’m sorry.” He held my gaze as he said it, a lack of sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t hold on to those good memories of him. They were never real.”

  I bowed my head.

  Wilder eyed the stack of folders beside him then opened the first one. “I’m not sure how these men are connected to your father, but I have my suspicions. Let’s go through them. That way, you know who they are.” He opened the first folder and pushed it across the table toward me.

  “I have a photographic memory.”

  He looked up at me without any incredulity.

  “Just thought I should throw that out there.”

  “Good,” he said. “That’s helpful. But I’m surprised you didn’t do better in college.”

  “I just didn’t care about anything I was learning.”

  “Do you care about this?” Both of his elbows rested on the table and his sleeves were rolled up. His forearms were defined with intricate muscles underneath the skin. The tendons were visible on the top of his hand. I never thought forearms could be sexy, but somehow, his were.

  “Of course I do.”

  He watched my face like he was searching for something.

  “I’m actually good at this. And I’m actually interested. This is the only time I’ve ever felt that way. It makes me wonder if this is what I should have been doing all along.”

  His expression didn’t change, but he didn’t seem to like what I said. “You’ve only scratched the surface. There’s so much more to this job than you are aware of. As we dig deeper, we’ll see if you feel the same way.”

  I already knew how I felt. “I will.”

  He looked down and grabbed the folders. “Time will tell.”

  ***

  Wilder didn’t come downstairs for dinner. He went to his room to shower, but never returned.

  I kept thinking about that text message I saw, the one from Jessica. It was a clear invitation to a booty call. As stupid as it made me look, I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to share him with anyone.

  Wilde came downstairs in jeans and a nice jacket. He was going out.

  My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Bile rose back into my mouth and I had to swallow it down. Jealousy and pain washed through me. He was never mine, but it seemed like he was. This man meant something to me, and I could have sworn I meant something to him too.

  “Dinner?” Judy asked from the kitchen.

  “No, thank you,” he said politely. “I’m going out. But make me a plate.”

  Judy didn’t ask where he was going. She probably already knew. “Okay, honey.”

  I looked down at my plate and picked at my food. I couldn’t look at him right now.

  Wilder grabbed his wallet from the counter, just feet away from me. His eyes were on me.

  I could feel it.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  How could he ask me a question like that? How could he sleep with me every night for two weeks but run off with some skank the second she texted him. Why would he want something meaningless when we could have something great? “I’m fine.” I still didn’t look at him.

  Wilder watched me for another moment before he walked to the door. His footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor. The anger bubbled inside me with every step he took, and I wanted to blow like a volcano.

  I hated the fact he was doing this to me. Why did I feel this way about him? I’d had my fair share of boy trouble, but the second a man didn’t show interest or had commitment issues, I was gone. I didn’t put up with bullshit—from anyone. So why was I letting him stomp all over my heart? Why couldn’t I just stop thinking about him in that way and move on?

  What was it about this guy?

  He walked out and shut the door behind him.

  I grabbed the meatloaf with my bare hand and chucked it across the room at the window. It splattered on the glass and slid down to the floor. Judy stood stark still as she realized what I’d done to her precious meal.

  I excused myself from the table without apologizing to Judy. I was livid and out of my mind. My heart had been left vulnerable, and Wilder stabbed it the second my walls were down. I needed to stop letting him in. I needed to stop letting him get to me.

  I needed to get over him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I released my anger during training.

  Wilder hopped around me on the mat, both of his fists near his face. He wore gloves, as did I. I packed so much force that it was necessary to have the padding. Just as he stepped to his left, I nailed him right in the nose.

  I threw all my weight into the jab and hit him as hard as I could. I wanted to break his face since he broke my heart.

  His nose immediately began to bleed, and he danced out of the way without showing even the slightest amount of pain. But there was obvious surprise in his eyes. I’d never attacked him so viciously.

  We definitely had bad blood.

  I didn’t let up, getting in his face once again. Wilder was stronger and had more experience, but I had the speed of a roadrunner. My instincts were sharp, and I could move as quickly as a speeding bullet. I waited until he threw his punch then deflected it hard against his side. With his face open, I punched him hard in the lip, making it bleed too.

  He immediately stepped back, surprised I landed another hit so quickly.

  I faked a hit then did a roundabout kick right into the side of his face. My legs were muscular so I carried a lot of force. It was enough to knock him to the ground.

  Wilder rolled into the fall and was back on his feet like nothing happened. “What’s gotten into you today?”

  “Just really focused.”

  “Well, I like it.”

  That just pissed me off even more. My anger was at an all-time high, and I gave him a series of swings and punches before I tripped him to the ground. Once he was there, I got his arm in a deadlock and pressed his face into
the mat. “Do you like this?” I applied more pressure.

  He didn’t show any sign of discomfort. “I love it.”

  I released a sigh that sounded more like a scream then stormed off. Taking my anger out on him had accomplished nothing. Now I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I just wanted to barricade myself in my room until I was forced to face him again. Perhaps this would be easier if we were at the agency and other people were around. I wouldn’t be stuck with him all the livelong day, and I could actually have some space.

  “Gray, what’s the problem?” He got to his feet then walked to me, his nose and lip still bleeding.

  “There is no problem. You got your ass kicked by a girl. That’s all.”

  “I’ve wanted you to kick my ass for a long time. So, why today?”

  I grabbed my jacket then shoved my arms through it. “No reason. Bye.” I walked to the staircase.

  When he spoke next, he didn’t sound like himself. His voice radiated authority and was laced with a shadow of a threat. The power in his voice made me stop in my tracks. “Get your ass back here. Now.”

  “I’m done for the day.”

  He didn’t raise his voice, but it was somehow worse than if he yelled. “You aren’t done until I say you’re done. So, get your ass back here and don’t make me ask you again.”

  Defiantly, I stayed put.

  “Gray.” He threatened me again with just my name.

  I turned around, feeling no remorse for his beat up face.

  “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been throwing a hissy fit all day.”

  “I don’t have a problem.”

  “Horseshit,” he said. “Yes, you do. If you have a problem with me, you better tell me.”

  It was pointless to say anything but I wanted to scream anyway. “Had a good time with Jessica last night?”

  He didn’t react at all. His face stayed exactly the same, not showing guilt or remorse.

  “Did you think about me when you fucked her?”

  He moved his hands to his hips and slowly stepped toward me, not blinking once. “How do you know her name?”

 

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