by JJ Knight
Blue Hair struggles beneath Jax’s polished leather shoe.
“No,” Jax says. “She shot me.”
Parker looks closer at Jax’s shirt. “Is that a hole in your back?”
Jax glances over his shoulder. “This silk shirt made as a gift to me by a private designer is ruined,” he says bitterly.
“That’s…all?” I sputter out. “That’s all you can say? She could have shot you in the head!”
“People with psychological profiles like hers always aim for the middle,” Jax says. He bends down and hoists Blue Hair to her feet. “It’s very simple science.”
Blue Hair wants to jerk away from him, but he has her arms trapped in his steel grip.
“You have some sort of body armor?” Parker asks.
“Something like that,” Jax says. “Still hurts like hell to get shot.”
But he doesn’t look like he feels any pain. He turns Blue Hair around so she faces away from him. She struggles, but he pinches her neck and her arms sag, useless.
Jax keeps talking like none of this is going on. “Sam, did you get everything set up?”
“We did,” the big guy says. Sam must be one of the other “colleagues” Jax referred to.
“Okay, game over,” Jax says. He pinches more tightly on Blue Hair’s neck. She curls up slowly, eyes wide, and then collapses on the floor next to Striker.
“We done here, then?” Sam asks.
“I’ll escort Parker and Ms. Madelyn to the car,” Jax says. “You go round up Klaus.” He brushes his hands together like he’s touched something dirty.
Sam turns to Colt and Parker. “I had a fine time rigging up the van with you.” He turns to me. “Glad to see we found you safe and sound.”
He adjusts the strap of a black bag on his shoulder and heads the other direction.
I step closer to Blue Hair and Striker. “What did you do to them?”
“They’ll be fine in a few minutes,” Jax says. “Nothing permanent.” He twists his arm around to try to touch the hole in his shirt. “Damn nuisance, trigger-happy amateurs.”
Parker lets me loose. “You ready to go?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I could not be more ready.” We walk down the last hall to a side door.
Outside, the night is black and hot. The street is empty except for a gleaming midnight-blue sports car idling by the curb.
“Our car is just a couple blocks away,” Colt says.
“By all means use mine to get to yours,” Jax says. “I’m sure Maddie will be glad for the ride.”
“Thank you,” I say to him. “I work for a designer. I can probably repair your shirt, or have one made just like it.”
“I may take you up on that,” he says. “I’ll let you know.” He shakes Colt’s hand, then Parker’s. “Keep this lovely lady close at hand.”
“I will,” Parker says.
“Would you like me to address his sister?” Jax asks. “Or this other girl, Annie?”
“Not necessary,” Colt says. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Very well.” Jax turns back toward the door. “Thank you for the interesting evening.” With that, he heads back into the warehouse.
Colt opens the back car door, and I climb in. Parker gets in beside me.
A lovely petite girl with dark hair is sitting behind the wheel. “Bonsoir,” she says in a lovely French lilt. “We should move along. The gunshot was reported by three calls to 911. About to get dingue around here.”
Colt jumps into the passenger seat.
The car darts out onto the lane.
“I’ll tell my driver to meet us elsewhere,” Colt says.
We zip along side streets. I catch a glimpse of flashing lights a block over as police cars race toward the warehouse.
“How do you know about the 911 calls?” Parker asks.
“Not a hard thing to trace,” she says.
“Do you think it’s okay to go back to the hotel?” I ask.
“We can stay somewhere else if would make you feel better,” Parker says.
“Good idea,” Colt says. “Jo and I will get two rooms at the Bellagio. I’ll send someone to pack our stuff.”
I lean back against the plush leather seats. I’m so unbelievably tired. I want to ask about Lani, who I faintly remembered, and this Annie girl. Is there more trouble to come? Will it ever really end?
But that conversation can wait. I’m too tired to think about it now.
Chapter 13: Parker
Maddie is sleeping as hard as I’ve ever seen her. The new room at the Bellagio overlooks the water fountains I admired the first night, when I wished Lily was here. It’s almost noon now, and I’ve called her. Her high, tiny voice is a relief after all the drama. I told her Mama would call later.
I slip quietly from the room to meet Doc Simon. When I agreed to let him look me over, I didn’t think Maddie would still be sleeping at noon. I need to get a new phone for her too. This is all so ridiculous.
Doc is in Colt’s room down the hall. Colt and Jo have gone with Brazen to talk to the president of the league about my fight with Viper. We’ve all agreed to stay quiet about what happened last night. It still feels like some sort of crazy dream. The warehouse, the gadgets, the trained men, the French girl. Jax shot in the back and doesn’t even notice.
I wonder if the van explosion has happened yet.
Doc inspects some of the cuts. I have deep bruising on my legs where Striker got his one hard knock with the chain.
“I’d stay away from the press for at least a week,” Doc says. “You weren’t this banged up after the match, and they’ll wonder what happened to you.”
“All right,” I say.
“Should I look after Maddie?” he asks.
“She’s still sleeping. I’ll ask her when she gets up.”
He closes up his bag. “Just let me know.”
Doc hesitates a second, then asks, “How did the other guys look?”
I shrug. “Everybody was walking and talking when I left them.”
“Messy business,” he says.
“It has been lately.” Honestly, there really wasn’t that much drama in my fighting career until this. A couple fighters here and there tried to start something when they thought I’d taken a potshot or that a ref had called a match too early. Those things tended to end quickly, though. Maybe a few blows in a bar.
Nothing like this.
I say bye to Doc and head back to my room. I can’t even remember what got Striker so worked up at Colt in the first place. Something about a press conference. It was dumb, whatever it was. And now it had cost a whole lotta people their careers.
I open the door slowly so I won’t wake Maddie. But she’s sitting up on the bed, the covers pulled up to her neck. Her eyes are wide open like she’s terrified.
I rush over to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Her voice is tight and full of fear. “You left me.”
“I’m sorry. I met with Doc.”
“You left me.”
I lean in to pull her close, but she scoots away.
“Maddie. Hey. We’re going to be all right now,” I tell her.
But she tightens up in a ball, her knees at her neck. “It’s not all right. People came after you with chains. I got shoved in a van and taken with no phone, no way to call. People were shot, Parker. Shot in the back.”
“Everyone came out of it fine.” I try to move toward her again, but she flinches so hard that I stop. She’s like a wounded bird.
“I don’t think so,” she says.
“Nobody is hurt more than they would have been in a match.”
“That is not any consolation!”
“Maddie, it’s a volatile group of people.”
“It’s a volatile sport!”
She has me there. If I wasn’t a fighter, this would never have happened. If I hadn’t forced myself back into her life, she wouldn’t have gone through all this. But there are crazy people everywhere. Not ju
st fighters.
Still, I think she won’t want to hear this. She’s still scared. I don’t blame her. It was scary.
“And who WERE those people Colt called?” she asks. “How do they know so much? Who gets shot in a silk shirt and isn’t hurt?”
“It’s just fancy body armor,” I say. “They have access to some technology the rest of us don’t know about.”
She pulls the sheet to her eyes and wipes them. I take this opportunity to get close again and wrap my arms around her.
To my relief, she lets me this time. I cradle her against my chest. “I talked to Lily. She’s fine. She misses you.”
This makes Maddie cry harder. I decide it’s better to just shut up, ride it out.
My phone buzzes but I ignore it. The little circular GPS sticker is still on Maddie’s hand. I gently tug it off. Her hair is tangled and matted. She fell asleep in the car last night, so I just carried her up a back celebrity entrance Colt had arranged for us and put her in bed. I trashed the dress, knowing she wouldn’t want to keep it around to remind her of the ordeal.
“Let’s get you in the shower,” I say. “You’ll feel better when you’re cleaned up.”
She doesn’t answer, but I slide her onto my lap and hold her as I get up from the bed.
I don’t let go of her, not even when I go into the bathroom and start the shower. I peel the T-shirt from her body and slide her panties down.
“You ready?” I ask, but she doesn’t let go of me, and she doesn’t answer.
I kick off my shoes and socks. Carefully, making sure we stay in close contact, I pull my shirt over my head. I stand us both up so I can drop the rest of my clothes.
When we’re both standing together in the warm spray, I finally feel her relax a little. The water stings in a hundred places, but it’s a feeling I’m used to after a fight. It’s calming, actually. To me it means the worst is over, that I’ve survived another round.
Maddie’s wrists are red and raw from the duct tape and she sucks in a breath when the water hits them. I reach outside the shower for a washcloth and wet it.
“Let’s wrap them so the water doesn’t hit them directly,” I say and place it over her hands.
But she shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s real. It means I’m here, alive.”
“They were never going to kill you,” I say.
She leans forward, her forehead resting on my chest. “They might not have intended to, but it could have happened.”
I can’t really argue that point after what they did to Colt and Jo. That’s the trouble with incompetent delinquents. They can cause more disaster than they intend just by losing control of a situation. Striker must have really thought he could shut me down easily.
I pick up a wrapped bar of soap and open it. I lift Maddie’s hair and wash her shoulders and back. There are bruises here. I don’t even know what all happened to her. I have no idea what she went through, what demons she’s facing. Hopefully one day soon she can talk about it.
Her head falls forward as I ease my soapy hands along her shoulder blades and down to her waist. I’m blocking the water, so the soap falls between us. Our slippery skin slides against each other. She’s still turned into me, her head tucked against my neck.
I make broader strokes from her neck to her back. She notices when I react to her. I’m not sure how she’ll feel about it, but she rocks forward, trapping my erection between us. I swallow hard, trying to keep this light and easy. She’ll tell me how she wants it to progress.
Her arms come up around me. I turn us so that she is in the flow of water. Maddie leans her head back and lets the shower smooth down her hair. Her neck is exposed, the suds collecting on her collarbone and trickling down between her breasts. My need of her is raging now, but I can hold it back. At least for a little while.
Her eyes are squeezed shut. Her chest rises and falls with each breath. She’s taking deep ones. Maybe she’s trying to calm herself. I wish I knew what was going on inside her head.
Her hair streams down her back. She stays like this so long that I start to lose my ability to resist moving into her. I lean forward and press my lips against her throat.
Her breath catches, and her nipples pucker. I can’t stop now, and cover a breast with my hand. A long low moan comes from her. She needs me, just like she did in the dark room at the warehouse. This is her center. I give this to her.
My arm goes around her back to brace her as I lean in harder, my soft kisses becoming more and more urgent.
Maddie holds on to my shoulders, dropping a few inches as her knees buckle. I grip her tighter, holding her weight. I work my way up her jaw to her ear, then over to her mouth. When our lips meet, she opens to me instantly. There is no tentativeness now, no uncertainty. Our tongues clash and the water rushes over both of us, crashing where our bodies join.
I sense an urgency in her and let go of the warm wet breast to slide my hand down the curve of her waist and across her belly. She parts her thighs for me, and I lift her leg to set her foot on the edge of the tub.
When my fingers slip inside her, her nails dig into my skin. Her mouth falls open, her breathing fast, and I relinquish the kiss to bury my face into her neck and hair. The water spills over my head and down my back.
In the window light, with the water shining on her skin, it’s almost as though last night never happened, that our fairy-tale weekend has been nothing but perfect. But then she turns just a little, and I see the bruise across her back.
I pause. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
If she says yes this time, I’m going back after those sons of bitches.
Chapter 14: Maddie
An hour ago I woke up to more aches and pains than I’d felt since giving birth to Lily, but here in the shower with Parker, they are all erased.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. I know he’s worried about me. I’m covered in scratches and bruises. I slept like the dead.
But I’m not feeling dead right now.
His erection is hard against my belly. The water is a warm cascade across us. We should have done this in the shower before, a hundred times before.
Parker went still a minute ago, but now his fingers take up their magical work again. One slides inside me while the other puts pressure against the nub he knows so well. I can barely hang on, my knees giving out every few strokes. But Parker’s strong arm is around my back, holding me in place.
I want to get completely lost, so far from reality that nothing can penetrate my thoughts. Like last night never happened. Like Parker and I never were apart. Like Lily has always known her father and nothing ever came between any of us.
Parker rocks our bodies against each other in a steady, comforting motion. His strokes inside me match the rhythm of our movements, and I start to feel that lifting sensation where I can fall away from the real world.
This space is heady. I become nothing but sensations. Parker’s fingers inside me. The slippery surface of our chests sliding against each other. His gritty stubble rubbing against my neck.
I think of that window on the Vegas Strip with the wedding bouquets and Parker’s happy hope. It was before everything happened, before the night turned hard.
But I can’t hold on to that happy part. I picture the van and that one fighter, coming forward to try to rip off my panties.
I force my thoughts away from that and drift back into Parker’s hands. But the dark memories want to come back. I need something more, something demanding to keep me in the moment. I squeeze his shoulders and rock my hips against him, deliberately disrupting the languid pace he’s set.
My hand snakes between us and wraps around him. His skin is feverishly hot, the skin so taut that it barely shifts as I work my palm along his length. He’s managing to hold back remarkably well, but that’s not what I want now. I need him inside me, blasting away the dark thoughts and the demons crowding into our moment. “Now,” I whisper.
His fingers spread me wide and he bends his kne
es to drop low enough for me to guide him inside. As my body surrounds him, the pleasure drives the other thoughts away.
Parker paces us carefully, slowly, but I grab his face and kiss him with a fervor that lets him know I need it harder, faster, driven.
He grabs my thighs and lifts my legs around his waist. I cling to his neck, letting him lift my body and thrust me back down. Now I’m spinning, and there’s nothing but him, and the powerful muscles of his thighs taking control of me. His strong arms hold me in place.
My cries are louder. I can feel every small sensation. The water on my back. A trickle running down my belly. The ends of my long wet hair smacking against my skin.
The muscles around him tighten and release, tighten and release. I feel like there’s a lightning storm between us, energy crackling out each time we fall flush against each other.
Then it all just bursts open. The orgasm breaks across my skin, intense where we’re joined and sparking through my body. I ride it out, still feeling the rhythm of the movements, the slide together intensifying the shudders.
I’m not looking at Parker, my eyes shut tight, but I can see his face in my mind, his eyes squeezed closed, eyebrows drawn together. He holds me still, pausing, and a low growl comes from his throat. Then, with one long last push, the warmth of him flows into me.
My body still pulses against his, unwilling to let go just yet. Parker holds on to me, letting me ride it out. As the adrenaline drains away, I want to weep, scream, sob. I’m still so emotionally overwhelmed by all the things that have happened since last night. I don’t know how long it will take to go away, or if it ever completely can.
“Maddie, my Maddie,” Parker murmurs. “We’re all right.”
I turn my cheek to rest on his shoulder. I have to believe that things will get better, and that the worst is over. Otherwise I don’t know how I can go on each day.
“Talk to me,” Parker says. “Tell me what’s getting to you.”
I don’t answer. It seems so obvious. I don’t know how he can live his life in constant upheaval, around people who feel dangerously entitled and have the skills to attack anyone who dares start a confrontation or threaten their dominance.
