Wrapped Up: A Triple Threat Sports Romance

by Lexi Cross

  That was when it hit her. If she married Paolo, who was quite rich and powerful, she could have that life—her old life—back. She might have to give up the baby. That would be hard. Impossible almost. But if Ryder was gone, really gone, then what choice did she have? She could be married and safe and rich and go shopping all day and spend her time avoiding her horrible husband. That had to be better than having no husband and being broke and all alone with a baby.

  But, if she had Ryder, she wouldn’t have to hate her husband. They might not be rich or have the mafia connections her father or Paolo did, but he loved her. He would treat her well and protect her. And he loved their child already as much as she did. Or at least he had seemed to. But that was before he’d left and not come back. Still, she couldn’t shake the idea of having a happy family. She might not be able to go back to her old life now that she knew what it was like to have love. To have Ryder. He’d ruined her.

  How could she lie in bed beside Paolo, let him touch her and have sex with her, when her heart belonged to Ryder? And Paolo was not a good-looking man. That was why she’d rejected him years ago when he wanted to marry her. Of course, then she wasn’t ready to get married, but still. She was not at all attracted to him. So, she’d have money, sure, but she’d have to fake it with someone she didn’t love and was somewhat repulsed by. How could she do that? There was no choice between them. She loved Ryder and their baby so much that she would gladly give up money if it meant being with him and being together as a family.

  The tears rolled down her cheeks, silent but continuous. She was only kidding herself thinking she had any choice or say at all in this. Her father was far too powerful. He could make her do whatever he wanted. She knew it, and he knew that she knew it. It was only a matter of time until she caved anyway. She wasn’t strong enough to take on her father. She couldn’t stand up to him. This was why she needed Ryder. He was strong enough for them both. He could take care of her father and keep her far away from Paolo.

  But Ryder wasn’t here. And he wasn’t coming. All her strength was missing. She had only herself, and this little baby growing inside her. She felt so weak. In body and in spirit. She had nothing left. If she didn’t have Ryder, which meant she couldn’t have her idea of her dream life, and she couldn’t have this baby, then she had nothing. She might as well marry Paolo. Then she’d have money and status and maybe they’d have a baby of their own. Maybe she would get used to him. Maybe he wasn’t really that bad.

  It seemed like that was her best option. Give up her dreams of marrying Ryder and having a family. Give up and do what her father wanted. In the end, he would force her whether she chose it or not. Whether she wanted it or not. Didn’t matter how much she wanted Ryder and the baby. She was doomed to follow her father’s orders. Unless she wanted to die. At this point, even that didn’t seem like a terrible choice.

  There was no way out, no good solution. She was trapped and nothing could free her from this situation. She tried to stop thinking, and cried until she fell asleep.

  ***

  She was awoken by her stomach churning. She sat up, waited a moment, then threw back the covers and ran to the bathroom. She had barely made it to the toilet before she was sick. She fell to her knees, heaving into the toilet until her stomach, which hadn’t contained much to begin with, was empty.

  She sat there a few minutes, waiting, making sure it had passed. She got up and flushed, then went to the sink. But as she was washing her mouth out, she got a whiff of her lavender-scented hand soap, and it sent her right back to the toilet.

  At least this time her stomach was already empty. She dry heaved for a while before her stomach settled. She got up more slowly and went to the sink. She swished some water in her mouth and brushed her teeth, then crawled back into bed, her throat aching and raw.

  Her door opened a short time later. She stayed where she was. She figured it was just one of the guys bringing her breakfast. That she probably wouldn’t eat.

  “Pia? What’s wrong with you?”

  Her father’s voice. He was here to see her? She pushed back the covers and forced herself into a seated position.

  “Morning, Daddy.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I was just sleeping.”

  “You just threw up twice. Are you ill?”

  Her face grew hot. He knew she’d thrown up? Crap. “I think so. The flu or something.”

  “The flu?” He harrumphed.

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her out of bed, her feet hitting the floor hard enough to hurt. Her knees wobbled, but she stood up under her father’s grasp.

  “Ow!” She pulled her arm free and rubbed it. “What are you doing?”

  He inspected her carefully, looking at her stomach and breasts especially. He grabbed her arm to pull her closer and hissed in her ear, “Exactly how involved did you get with that scum, Ryder?”

  “It was nothing,” she muttered, pulling her arm away again.

  “Are you pregnant?” The look in his eyes was downright murderous.

  She was afraid to look at him, but if she didn’t, he would know she was lying. Her body was trembling and she felt like she might be sick again. But she couldn’t let her father see her throw up again. Not after he knew she just had twice.

  She forced herself to meet his eyes and said coldly, “No.” Even the lie tasted bitter in her mouth.

  “Then why do you look like this? Why aren’t you eating? Why are you throwing up?”

  “Maybe you don’t know how the flu works.” She put her hand on her hips, hoping the pose would both make her look thin and show her attitude. “You feel like puking and you puke. That makes you not want to eat. It makes you sweaty and pale and gross. Like I am right now.” She held her hand to her forehead. “I think I have a fever. I’m hot.”

  He pressed his own wrist to her forehead. “You don’t feel feverish to me.”

  “Well, I am.” She turned from him to get back under the covers.

  Before she could get into bed, he put his hands on both of her shoulders, turning her back to face him. She stumbled toward him. He pulled back his hand in a fist and swung it through the air, right toward her stomach.

  Everything moved like slow motion to her. She saw his fist, saw it coming for her. For her baby. She put her hands to her stomach and jumped back. Without thinking, she cried, “Don’t hurt the baby!”

  He dropped his fist and she gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock. Tears filled her eyes.

  Her father looked at her with extreme disgust. “You little whore,” he whispered. “I never thought my daughter, whom I gave everything to, whom I gave the whole world to, would do something like this to me. Would stoop so low as to not only sleep with trash like Ryder, but to get pregnant by him. You disgust me.”

  “Daddy!” she whimpered. Tears flooded her eyes. “Don’t say that!”

  “If I could disown you, I would. I can’t get you married off fast enough, apparently. You went spreading your legs for some low class ghetto boy. To lower yourself to that level. Don’t you have any self-respect at all?”

  She covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t stand to even look at him when he was being so cruel. Now that he knew, what would happen? She’d never been so afraid of her father. She’d never seen him so mad at her or heard him talk like this to her. She didn’t know what to do or what he would do. He’d already raised a hand to her once. Would he follow through with his punch?

  She wished Ryder would just burst through the door and rescue her. But as the seconds went by, he didn’t show. He was nowhere to be seen.

  “Only one thing left to do,” Matteo said.

  Pia forced her fingers to separate so she could see her father. She half expected to see him pointing a gun at her face. But he stood there, arms crossed over his chest.

  “We’re going to have to get this taken care of before Paolo arrives. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill you for this. I’d like to do him the favor o
f giving him a somewhat pure wife. At least your womb will be empty, even if your pussy is tainted.”

  She whimpered and stepped back from him.

  “We’ll get rid of it, then I’ll be able to get rid of you. I never want to see your tramp face again. I don’t even like you being in my house. Try to keep your legs closed for the next few days until Paolo gets here, will you? Can you manage that, you little slut?”

  She kept crying and didn’t say anything.

  “Can you?” He stepped closer to her and got a fistful of her hair in his hands. He pulled her closer to him, his spit flying from his mouth and landed on her cheeks. “Keep your legs closed. Got it?”

  She nodded and he let her go, hard. She tripped and fell onto the bed.

  He stormed from the room and slammed the door closed behind him.

  Pia lay there for a moment, stunned. She stared at the door, cowering into her bed, terrified he would return. She got up and went to the door, then turned the lock. The little metal piece that usually clicked into place when the door locked spun freely. They’d removed her lock. She should have expected this, but for some reason, this deeply upset her. She couldn’t get out; she couldn’t keep anyone from getting in.

  She sunk to the floor until her knees hit the carpet, and cried. She curled into a ball on her side and hugged her knees to her chest.

  Now what? What in the world should she do? Her father wanted to take care of it. For all her worry and thinking she couldn’t be a single mother, the thought of actually going through with it and killing her child hurt like someone had shoved a hot poker into her chest. How could she do that? Her own flesh and blood. And for whatever he was doing now and whatever he’d decided, this baby had been conceived in love. Maybe that love had gone since, especially for him, but not her for. She loved him despite herself, and she wanted his baby.

  Maybe it was mostly to have a reason to see him again. Even if it took years, he might come find her later, to seek out his child. If she had his baby, she always had a reason to find him, to talk to him. He would always be in her life in some way, even if it was as the absent father of her baby. She would still be able to see him in their child’s face.

  And she loved this baby already. She’d never understood how women could say that. But for the last days thinking about having a baby with Ryder and picturing their family, it had become real to her, and she wanted any part of that she could get.

  Forget her old life. She didn’t need it. She wanted this baby no matter what it took. She’d be poor if she had to be. But she’d have her baby. She just had to find a way now to protect him or her long enough to be born. With so many people coming against her, Pia didn’t know how she would protect the baby. Her father’s power, and all of his hired hit men…she could be killed in her sleep.

  They could poison her, barge in and shoot her, strangle her, and she could do nothing about it. She wasn’t strong enough to fight back, and since she hadn’t been eating, she was even weaker than normal. She didn’t stand a chance against her father if he wanted her baby dead.

  What could she do? She was back to all her plans of trying to escape. But they seemed just as pointless now as they had before. And now her father probably suspected she’d try even harder to get away. Which might mean he would increase security around her. How many men were outside her door right now? How many men were in her house? Did she even have a car anymore, or had her father taken it? Had he cut her off and left her with nothing?

  He might have. She might be broke already. The temptation to marry Paolo and stay rich flickered in her mind again, but quickly died when she put her hand to her belly. That would be like selling her baby. Money or the baby. She could only have one. And she chose her baby. Ryder’s baby.

  Maybe the wedding would give her an opportunity for escape. She’d have to leave her bedroom. There would be some sort of ceremony, right? Maybe in all of that she could get away. Could escape somehow.

  Even if she could manage that, where would she go with no money? Well, she did have rich friends. Maybe she could go to them and get some money, then take a plane somewhere. Oh, but that would require her name to be given and her passport and driver’s license, and all of that had been taken from her. Maybe a train, then. Something. Maybe she could buy a cheap car. Maybe she could borrow one from her friends.

  How far could she get? She couldn’t leave the country without her identification. Maybe she would just drive until she didn’t want to drive anymore. Keep going, making turns without thought until she got lost in some tiny little town in the middle of nowhere.

  Places like that were all over the country. Little country towns where everyone knew everyone and they would welcome a newcomer and hide her. Of course, the whole country living thing sounded awful, but what choice did she have? Going to a big city would be too easy to track. They could find her in New York or Chicago. Her father had too many big city connections. But in a little town in the middle of the country? He knew no one there. Would have no one waiting to find her.

  She just had to get there. And first, she just had to get out.

  She crawled back into bed. She would need all the rest she could get. Build up as much strength as she could. Maybe she could even risk eating. Somehow make Lu or someone taste it first so she knew it was safe? The might work. Might not. But she had to be able to run and get away. If she couldn’t, it was all over. Her father would do something to her baby and she’d end up having to marry Paolo.

  She needed a plan to escape fast if she wanted to save her baby, and she’d need a backup plan to escape at the wedding if something went wrong. Right now, her brain was so foggy and she was in so much emotional pain that she couldn’t fathom a plan. All she could think of was sleep. And maybe when she woke, it would all be better in the morning.

  Tired as she was, she lay there in her bed, not able to fall asleep. Her mind whirled and the tears kept coming. Her eyes burned with them. She missed Ryder. Missed her father even, and the way he used to call her sweet names and buy her things. She’d never thought he would do this to her. Never in a million years. Well, that wasn’t true. She expected him to flip out about the baby. She just hadn’t expected him to call her names and look at her like that. With such pure disgust. She felt hatred coming off of him in that glare. Pure hatred. And that, she hadn’t expected.

  She could deal with his anger, but not his hate. Anger meant you still loved the person, but hatred was different. Pia suddenly felt like an orphan. Like she’d been lied to about who her father was. They’d said he was a good man who loved her. Well, he wasn’t. He was a bad man—the very worst type of man, and he didn’t love her. He loathed her. And his grandbaby. Well, he didn’t deserve either of them, then. And if it was up to her, she’d never see him again.

  She pictured all the ways in which she might be able to kill him. To pay him back for how he made her feel. For threatening her baby and making her feel unloved. She wanted to rip out his heart and stomp on it. That was exactly what it felt like he’d done to her.

  With that picture in her mind of her suffering father, she finally was able to fall asleep.

  Chapter 18

  Ryder was feeling anxious by the time he got close to his house. He needed to make this stop quick and get over to Fairfield Street to see what was going on. There was little time left if he was going to stop this wedding. Taking out a mob boss wasn’t going to be easy, but he saw no better way out—no other way out at all—than to kill Solano. How many guys would he have around him? Ryder would kill as many as it took. All of them if he had to. He’d take out the entire mob family. Let them come after him. So what? What difference did it make? If he had Pia, he had everything.

  He turned into his driveway and shut the car door hard as he bolted for his house. He unlocked the door fast and threw it open, not even bothering to make sure it was closed all the way. He was headed straight for the bathroom when a man wearing a black mask jumped out of the bedroom, blocking his way.


  “What the hell?” Ryder said. “Now what?”

  The man lifted a crow bar and swung at Ryder, but he ducked easily.

  “What’s the deal?” Ryder asked. This had to be one of Matteo’s guys. They knew he’d gotten out of the basement and weren’t happy about it. But really, why should they care? If he was staying away from Pia like they wanted him to—and he was, for now—then why was this guy coming after him now?

  “You scumbag,” the man said, and Ryder recognized Lorenzo’s voice. “You think you can just knock up the boss’s daughter and get away with it? Matteo wants you dead.”

  Two words came to Ryder’s mind. Oh. Fuck. They knew. He didn’t have time to stop and think how they knew, but they knew.

  Lorenzo swung the crowbar at him again, and in Ryder’s momentary panic, he reacted a split second too slowly. The crow bar whacked hard into his already aching ribs. Ryder screamed in pain. He couldn’t help it. The broken ribs already burned like his chest was on fire when he was just trying to move or breathe. But to be hit there with a metal crow bar? He thought he was going to pass out, the pain was so sharp. It was like a searing white hot poker shoved into his side. If Lorenzo had stabbed him with a knife, it would have hurt less. Much less.