Beyond Control (Beyond, Book Two)

by Kit Rocha

  "You know you're full of shit, right?"

  Dallas took a half-hearted swing at him, listing them both to the side. "Fuck you."

  "Yeah, okay." He stopped at the back exit and hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. "We're still here. No one's going anywhere."

  "Everyone's always going somewhere. You've been gone since that girl passed out at your feet."

  "That's crap," Jasper said firmly. "I'm right here, where I've always been."

  Dallas swayed and put one hand against the doorjamb to hold himself up as he squinted at Jasper. "You're right there, but you're not where you've always been. And that's okay. I'm glad you're blissful, man. I just miss my brother."

  Well, shit. "You're a chatty drunk." Jasper eased open the door. "You always wanna talk about your damn feelings."

  Dallas snorted. "Enjoy it while I've got 'em."

  "Scratch that. You're a weepy drunk."

  "I fucking well earned it tonight," he grumbled. "I went for all and got nothing."

  "Finally, you're starting to get it."

  Dallas mumbled something incoherent--probably the last couple swigs of whiskey hitting his bloodstream. Sloppy drunk, all right, and all Jas could do was lead him down the hall to his office and dump him on the couch.

  And fetch him a cup of water. Dallas swatted at it, so Jasper poured it over his head and listened to him sputter as he settled in for the night on the rickety lounge chair in the corner.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "How about this color?" Amira held up another small bottle, this one red with gold flecks.

  Six eyed it with the same wariness she had the previous offerings, but Lex could tell she was trying for politeness when she shook her head slightly. "I don't know if red's my color."

  The girl was still awkward and crap at socialization, but she'd get better. And most of the O'Kane women had taken note of Bren's fondness for her and acted out of their own fondness for him, making it their mission to put Six at ease.

  It might work, if the overdose of sisterhood didn't give her a panic attack first. Six started when Nessa flopped down on the couch beside her, waving another bottle over her head. "I've got it, I've got the winner. She's a girl after my own heart, so she needs something dark." She dropped her voice to an ominous whisper. "Like our souls."

  Noelle choked on her beer. Six was staring, her eyes wide, and Lex finally nudged Nessa with her foot. "You're scaring the piss out of her."

  Nessa tossed her brightly colored bangs--purple, this week--out of her eyes and grinned. "Just lightening the mood until someone interesting climbs into the cage. Look here, Six." She held up her own nails, which were a shimmery black with golden sparkle. "It's the best of all worlds, right? It says, yeah, I'd cut you but also I like shiny things. Just let me try it on you."

  Six extended her hand with all the enthusiasm of someone reaching into a bear trap, but the corner of her mouth tugged up a little. "Are there good fights coming up?"

  Both of Amira's eyebrows rose. "Flash said something about Ace fighting the new guy. Bren's friend."

  "Ace?" Noelle demanded. "Does he fight? I've never seen him fight."

  "He steers clear of it. Usually." Lex leaned forward, distracted from her brooding. "What's up? Ace all mad that Cruz moved in on Rachel?"

  "Rachel dumped Cruz," Six said abruptly. "While you guys were still in Sector Two."

  "I heard it was right after she got her new tat," Nessa added without looking up from Six's nails. "And we all know that's been on slow boil just about forever."

  Lex stared. "You're shitting me." How had she been so wrapped up in her drama with Dallas that she hadn't even noticed?

  "It's true." Noelle dropped a hand to her shoulder. "At least, I know the part about them breaking up is. I meant to tell you, but things have been hectic."

  "Jesus." Lex glanced over at Rachel, who was pouring drinks. She didn't look happy, not in the least. Certainly not like she'd been hopping on Ace's dick every night. "So she and Ace...?"

  Nessa shook her head. "I don't think so. If he'd finally caught her, we'd all know, because we'd be watching it every time we turned around."

  "That's the truth," Amira said.

  Which meant something had gone horribly wrong. Lex should have been there, if only for moral support. Instead, she'd been too busy indulging her own pain.

  "I should check on her," she said as she started to stand.

  "Check on who?" Rachel shoved a mug of beer at Nessa, then drew it back. "You're not going to drink this before you finish painting people's nails, are you?"

  But Nessa wasn't looking at Six's nails anymore. Her gaze had strayed to the cage. "Oh boy."

  Lex turned to see Ace, barefoot and shirtless, stretching his tattooed arms over his head on one side of the cage as Cruz climbed in the other side.

  Rachel dropped to the couch. Noelle rescued the beer, and Lex rubbed the blonde's shoulder as she stared at the two men in the cage. "This is so stupid," she mumbled. "What the hell are they doing?"

  "Blowing off manly steam." Nessa finished painting Six's last nail and closed the bottle before patting Rachel's leg. "You can't stop them, so pretend this is some ancient arena and they're... What did they call them? The guys in the metal suits?"

  "Knights," Noelle supplied. "But only men think a duel over a woman is actually about the woman."

  Lex sighed. No, this was about ego. The bell rang, and the two men circled each other slowly. "Nessa's right, Rach. Let them beat each other stupid like a couple of little boys. No harm, no foul."

  "Unless Cruz breaks Ace's fingers," Nessa whispered too softly for Rachel to hear.

  From the first jab, it was clear that Ace's fingers were the last thing on his mind. The two men clashed with matching snarls, Cruz's power and speed only partially countered by the fact that Ace fought dirtier than anyone Lex had ever seen.

  Cruz was dangerous. He was good. He was pissed.

  But he was holding back. Maybe out of respect for Ace's place in the gang, or maybe because he really did think Dallas would shut him out if he injured their artist's precious hands. Cruz checked his strength more than once, hesitating with a kick, pulling a punch.

  And Ace took advantage of it. Mercilessly.

  Lex couldn't hear them over the shouts of the crowd, but words were being exchanged. Ace ducked an unsteady punch and came up under Cruz's arm, slamming into him and ramming them both back against the bars. His mouth moved in some incomprehensible taunt, and Cruz roared and flung Ace across the cage, seemingly more enraged by Ace's smug little smile.

  They crashed together again, locked face-to-face, arms straining, muscles bulging, teeth bared in matching growls, and Lex wasn't the only one who saw the pressure begin to shift. Nessa reached blindly for a beer and ended up grabbing Noelle's arm instead. "Uh, is it just me, or is it hot in here?"

  The two men were steaming up the cage, all right, exuding a palpable sexual tension that had people staring as the fight went on. The crowd buzzed, with more than a few curious gazes landing on the couch--on Rachel.

  Judging from the flush creeping up her cheeks, she knew exactly what people were saying.

  She stood suddenly. "I need to get a few more bottles from the storeroom. I'm just--yeah."

  "I'll go with you." Amira climbed to her feet more clumsily, one hand around her pregnant belly.

  When they were gone, Noelle scooted into Amira's spot, her gaze never leaving the cage. "I know I'm still pretty new at this, but that looks a little bit like foreplay."

  "Yeah. Someone better get them a do-not-disturb sign for the night."

  "Someone better get us all one," Nessa retorted, flinching as Cruz got his arm around Ace's neck and ended up elbowed in the side for his trouble. "See, Six? This is what makes life worth living. Men who don't know if they wanna fight or fuck, but will climb into a cage to figure it out in front of everyone in the sector."

  Six squinted and tilted her head. "Ace fights dirty. No rules, no
mercy. And he's got a nice jab."

  "A nice jab?" Nessa shook her head. "Oh, honey."

  Noelle took a sip of her beer to cover her smile and leaned closer to Lex. "I think I see why Bren's fond of her."

  Lex's answering smile faded as she caught sight of Trix across the room. The redhead had covered the discoloration with makeup, but there was no mistaking the swelling around her eye. She had one hell of a shiner--and, unlike Cruz and Ace, no reason for it. "What the hell happened to Trix?"

  Noelle's brow furrowed. "I don't know. I hadn't seen her all day until just now."

  "Jesus Christ," Nessa whispered. "Dallas can't have seen that yet, or someone would be dead."

  "Someone's about to be. Stay here." Lex elbowed through the crowd.

  Trix saw her coming and turned away, angling her face down to cover her cheek, but Lex caught her arm and shook her head. "That's not how it works, honey. Who was it?"

  Trix's eyes widened. "Tell Dallas I'm not trying to cause trouble--"

  "I need a name." A name Lex could connect with a face, which she could then connect with her boot.

  She didn't answer, but her gaze skittered tellingly to the corner, where Dom was holding court with a handful of the punks who came to fight in the cage, hungry for a little of Dallas's attention.

  If they thought listening to Dom was the way to get it, they were right...in the very worst way.

  He tensed as she approached, but Lex couldn't manage to wipe the anger from her features. "You're in deep shit this time, Dom."

  Dom jeered at her, puffing out his chest in a useless attempt to look unconcerned. "Yeah? Says who?"

  She slapped the drink out of his hand. "I'm not fucking around. If Dallas doesn't kill you, I'll do it myself."

  "You better watch your mouth, bitch." He leaned close enough for his breath to wash over her, reeking of tequila. "I hear you're not so high and mighty now. Just another piece of ass who doesn't know when to shut up, strip down, and spread 'em."

  Rage swelled, closing off her throat. Not at the personal insult, but at his implication--that women were only good for one thing, and worthless for anything else. Worse than worthless. Subhuman, nothing but disembodied parts waiting for his slavering, short-lived attention.

  He'd already shed his shoes in anticipation of a fight in the cage. Lex stomped down on the bridge of his foot, then slammed the heel of her hand up against his nose.

  He howled and swung a fist toward her, but it went wide. Not because she'd dodged, but because an iron arm had locked around her waist and hauled her out of the way.

  Jas and Bren appeared on either side of Dom, sending his companions scattering. No doubt none of them wanted to be associated with the beatdown to come, especially when Dallas's voice tickled Lex's ear. "Lexie love, were you about to throw an ass-stomping party and not invite me?"

  Easy words, lazy, at complete odds with the rigid tension in his body. He was playing his part, king of Sector Four, and she found herself going along with it. "Had to. I would have saved his head for you, though. You'll want it when you see Trix's face."

  Dallas lowered her carefully to the floor. "Jas? Make sure Dom doesn't get any ideas about moving."

  The crowd had gone silent, and Lex looked up. Her eyes locked with Trix's big blue ones, and she motioned her over. "Come here, honey."

  The woman's chest heaved, but she obeyed, crossing the room with her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm sorry, Dallas."

  He caught her chin with gentle fingers and tilted her head back, angling her bruised eye toward the light. "Only thing you need to be sorry about is not coming straight to me. You work for us, girl. You're protected."

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  Dallas released her and turned to Lex. They'd known each other so long it was easy to read the silent plea in his gaze. For this night, for this moment, he had to be the king, and he desperately needed her. Not Lex, his lover, or even Alexa.

  He needed his queen.

  Dallas didn't look away, even when he spoke. "Get in the cage, Dom."

  Bren stepped forward, but Lex cut off his protest with an upraised hand. "You heard the man. He's ready to settle this."

  Dom bit off a curse. "Fuck that. I won't."

  "O'Kane for life," Dallas drawled, the painful edge under the words sharp enough to cut. "You wanted to punch someone, I'll give you someone to punch. If you're one of us, do what you're fucking told and get in that cage. If you're not, I'll let Bren put two bullets in your head right now. Trust me, he wants to, just to spare me the fight."

  Jasper nudged him, and Dom stumbled forward. "Have it your way, O'Kane. I'll kick your ass." He stomped toward the cage.

  A queen wouldn't let her king go into a fight without her favors. Lex hesitated for a half-second before curving her hand around the back of Dallas's neck and drawing him close for a quick, hard kiss.

  His lips moved against hers, but not in a kiss. In a whisper. "Thank you."

  Let them all think the rumors were just that. They'd find no weakness here, no dissension. "Go."

  He went, stripping off his leather vest as he walked. The harsh warehouse lights allowed for nothing to be hidden. Not the proud swirl of ink dominating one arm and shoulder, not the scars that marked his chest and back.

  He was rough, hard and unforgiving. A force of nature.

  And, like a storm, he had no mercy.

  The cage door had barely shut when he hit Dom for the first time, smashing a fist into the man's unprotected face. He fought back, but he was no match for Dallas's cold fury.

  Lex watched, every breath burning in and out of her lungs. The fight could have been over in a few minutes of brutal punches and well-placed kicks, but Dallas was holding back, almost toying with Dom. Going as much for pain as for victory.

  He was putting on a show. Sending a message. Every time Dom staggered to his feet only to be knocked back down, Dallas reinforced the line he'd drawn. You didn't hurt Dallas's women. You didn't touch his people. Not the ones wearing ink, not the ones who worked for him. Because if he'd do this to one of his own men, no one else had a hope in hell of survival.

  The fight had started with cheers, but as it dragged on, the warehouse grew still around Lex. O'Kanes watched in solemn pride. The rest of Sector Four watched with a mixture of satisfaction and fear.

  Dallas carried the weight of everyone's safety on his shoulders, and he won it with violence and blood, taking one last swing to lay a staggering Dom out before flexing his bruised knuckles.

  Dom thudded to the concrete, and Dallas lifted his head to meet Lex's gaze. Frustration. Satisfaction. Heat, as his adrenaline pumped and one sort of arousal melted into another.

  He was thinking of his fantasy, the one he'd laid out so bluntly in her bathtub. The one where he celebrated his victory inside her, right there in front of everyone.

  Not now, after everything that had happened. But turning away wasn't an option for Lex, either. So she stepped forward and held out her hand. Dallas hopped out of the cage and clasped her fingers. Kissed them.

  Then he walked away.

  As he neared Jas, he jerked a thumb toward Dom's prone figure. "Strip his cuffs," he said, raising his voice so his words carried back to them. "And then dump him with the trash."

  Lex winced. As loathsome as Dom was, stripping tattoos was nasty business. The doctor had lasers, but he saved them for people he liked, or when his work had to be neat. Dom would get acid, and then he'd get turned out into the streets.

  "I'll call Doc," Jasper said brusquely.

  Dallas took one last look back, and Lex froze. A last look, that's exactly what it was--him drinking in the sight of her, fixing it in his mind because soon it would be gone.

  She would be gone.

  He turned and slammed through the back door nearest the garage.

  Her mind fluttered, struggling to light on why she felt sick inside. She'd known this. The decision had been made. Plans begun. And yet something inside Lex still shrank a
way from the thought. Her friends, her family--

  But that wasn't what twisted a cold knot in her gut. She didn't have to leave Sector Four, or even the O'Kane compound. She could stay right where she was, be as close to any of them as she'd ever been.

  But not Dallas.

  Her hands began to shake. He'd spent days waiting for her to come around, to tell him it would be all right, but it seemed that now he understood the one thing she needed more than apologies, more than promises.

  He was finally letting her go.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The garage was dark, and the slamming of the door echoed behind her. "Dallas?"

  A clatter came from the far side, where tools lined a low wooden workbench. Light flared, sudden illumination that offered her the sight of Dallas's back in silhouette. "Go back to the warehouse, Lex." He bit off each word, as if he had to measure them one at a time to keep his control. "I need to cool off."

  "I can't." She was drawn to him, always. Unable to walk away. "Are you all right? Your hands?"

  His snarl echoed through the darkness. "I'm not fucking around."

  "I can't," she said again, desperation almost choking her. "I can't leave. No matter what's going on between us, you need me here. I'm not just an O'Kane."

  Dallas spun, still mostly backlit. She could barely make out his face, only sharp shadows playing over a fierce expression. "If you touch me, I can't promise I'll let you go again. Not right now."

  She couldn't go, but she couldn't stay, either. Couldn't push or retreat. Love him or hate him.

  Something had to give.

  "All I wanted was you." Her voice broke on the confession. "To be as important to you as you were to me."

  Silence. Heartbreaking, humiliating silence, until Dallas shifted his weight. "Would you stab me, Lex?"

  An exact echo of his words from their horrible, horrible fight. She shuddered. "Only if you make me."

  He was still wearing his boots. He hadn't taken them off before fighting Dom, and now he bent and jerked a knife free from the left one. He flipped it around so he was holding it by the blade and offered it to her.