by Leddy Harper
Josh came up behind me and placed his hands softly on my shoulders. “Give me a chance, Lee. Please. I’m begging you. I fucked up and I know it. I’ll be better. I swear.”
“I’m moving,” I blurted out, instantly regretting the decision when his grip tightened. I shimmied out of his hold until we faced one another. “Well, it’s not finalized yet. But I’ve been thinking a lot about it.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet. I just started looking at options. I’m trying to work it out with my job first, but more than likely, back home to Tennessee.”
His lips thinned and his nostrils flared. Anger had set into his expression, but when he spoke, his words were steady, only slightly strained. “For him? You’re going back home for him? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Peering into his hardened stare, I couldn’t help but wonder if he possibly suffered from the same paranoia his mom had. If this had been the first time he’d ever mentioned Killian, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But it wasn’t. Ever since I’d returned from my parents’ house, he’d brought it up in almost every fight. What I originally assumed was jealousy, now seemed to reek of obsession and delusions.
“No, Josh. I really wish you’d stop bringing him up. You don’t know anything about him or our relationship. I want to be closer to my family. It has always been the plan. You know this. I’ve stayed this long because of you.”
“So what’s changed? I’m still here. Why leave now?”
“Because I can’t keep doing this with you.”
“I told you I’d change. I’ll be better.”
“And although you might believe that…I don’t. I can’t sit around and wait for you to reverse thirty-one years of learned behavior. You can’t make the anger go away overnight. You’re still Jaguar inside that ring, and no matter what you say, you’ll never be able to walk away from the fights. It’s who you are, and I understand that. It helps you manage your daily emotions. It evens you out for the most part. But it’s just not enough for me.”
“Will you at least stay until after the tournament? Let me see where things go from there? I can start my own club and—”
“It won’t change anything, Josh.”
He stepped up to me and grazed my cheek with the back of his battered knuckles. “Sleep on this. Think about it. You’re tired and shouldn’t make these kinds of decisions without a proper night’s sleep.” He kissed my forehead while holding the sides of my face gently in his large hands. “Goodnight, Lee.”
I stood stunned, rooted in place, while he turned and left my apartment. He closed the door behind him, as if this were any other night. I knew this wouldn’t be the last of him, and that thought petrified me.
I wanted to be done with him.
But he made it clear he wasn’t done with me.
Twenty-Three
Killian
I’d made it through four weeks of fights, and this was the last weekend before the final match. Every week I advanced, so did Josh, and I couldn’t have been happier. The only reason I made it this far was because of my need to meet him in the ring again.
The only times I saw Rylee were on Saturday nights as she stood in the crowd next to Josh. I eventually had to stop looking at her. The light in her eyes was gone. Her natural beauty seemed to be hidden behind a mask of pain and withdrawal.
Without a doubt, I knew he was to blame.
The competition became tougher as the tournament progressed. The man standing in front of me, sweat lining his brow, refused to go down. No matter how many times I silently begged him to just give up so I could stop hitting him, he refused to comply.
My knuckles ached, my muscles burned, and my head throbbed with the effects of the punches he’d landed. When he charged at me again, I bared my teeth and swung, throwing my entire body into it. His head turned at the last minute, offering up his ear to my clenched fist. Blood spurted and he dropped to the spring board.
He didn’t get up.
He rolled to his side and moaned, holding the side of his face. My stomach knotted at the sight of glistening crimson leaking between his fingers, and in an instant, I was eight years old again. I was in my parents’ bedroom, trying to comprehend what was in front of me.
I grabbed a towel, not caring who held it out, and pressed it to the guy’s ear. His eyes were clenched tight and his breaths were short and shallow. It was clear he was in a lot of pain. His body was rigid, making it difficult to get him into a seated position.
“Hap! Come on! He has people to tend to him. Get out of there,” Cal called from the side of the stage. Glancing over my shoulder, I shook my head in response. I wasn’t about to leave this man behind. Not after I’d been the one to do this to him.
“We need to get him to the back room,” I heard someone say next to me. I didn’t know who it was, and I refused to turn to find out. Instead, I helped him to his feet and assisted him out of the ring.
Ignoring Cal’s rants, I walked next to my opponent, leading him down the hall and into his room. Once we had him situated on the clinic table, I carefully lifted the towel off the side of his face. There was so much blood I thought I would vomit. My stomach revolted against the sight before me.
“He’ll be okay now. Thanks for your help.” A hand moved into my line of sight. When I followed it to the arm it was attached to, then the chest, and finally, settling on his face, I recognized him as Dalton, Josh’s coach.
I nodded and took his offered hand, shaking it.
“You should probably get back to Cal before he has a coronary.”
I released his hand, stepped away, and left the room. Josh stood against the wall with his foot propped behind him. The sneer on his face tested my restraint. I wanted to knock his ass out, lay him out on the floor and listen to him beg for mercy. But I knew that’d have to wait another week. Providing he won his next match—which he was almost sure to do—I’d see him behind the ropes. Where no one could save him. No one could protect him from my wrath.
Rather than play his game, I continued past him until I found Cal, fuming. “I swear, kid…you’re gonna put me on blood pressure medication before this thing is over. I can appreciate your concern for others, but could you not do it in front of the entire crowd?”
My jaw tightened and I could feel the muscles tic in response.
“Fine…don’t answer me,” he said with the smallest grin. “You need to get back to the room so someone can take a look at that.” He pointed to my forehead. With the adrenaline pumping through me, I hadn’t the faintest idea what he meant.
I ran my fingers along the sheen of sweat on my brow, and when I pulled my hand away, blood tinged the tips. My sight met Cal’s and I shook my head. I didn’t need medical attention for a scrape. Nothing I couldn’t handle on my own. I’d had worse than that, and survived. I only wanted to exit the gym, to put it behind me for one more week.
The stagnant night air hung around me, but it felt ten times better than inside. All the bodies crowded around left it stifling and muggy—what little breathable air existed was polluted with musk. My keys jingled in my hand on my way to my car, but then everything fell silent when I spotted her.
Her back was to me, but I’d know her anywhere. I watched as she climbed into her car and started the ignition. It became a race to get to her. This was the first chance I’d had since the preliminary fight weeks ago to be near her. Every other time, she was wrapped in Josh’s arms. That fucker never seemed to let her out of his sight. But now, she was alone.
I turned toward the gym, making sure he hadn’t followed her, and then sprinted to my Jeep. Keeping up with her, I never let her car out of my headlights.
We both parked at the same time, my vehicle a few behind hers in an empty space along the curb. She glanced at me, but didn’t speak. Instead, she walked to her building in silence. It was as if she knew I followed her every step of the way. Through the main door, up the stairs, to her apartment. Not once did
she turn around.
She walked inside…and left the door open behind her.
My invitation.
I peered over my shoulder down the hall, one last effort to make sure Josh wouldn’t pop up, and then followed her into the apartment. Not only did I close the door behind me, but I locked it, too.
Rylee stood with her hip against the counter in the small kitchen, her hand beneath the running faucet. Without a word spoken between us, she turned off the water and made her way to me. The cloth was cold, but eased the pain on my forehead.
“I don’t think you need stitches. It doesn’t look deep.”
Her melancholy tone sent an ache through my body, far worse than the sting she tended to. There was something off about her, but I didn’t know what. It gutted me to see her so lifeless. So down. So…
Broken.
I took her wrist and pulled her hand away from my face, forcing her to finally meet my gaze. “You’re the one who needs to be taken care of. Not me. Let me take care of you.” The flecks in her eyes shimmered. It took me back to a time when the sun would glint off them while I drew on her arm.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It happens. I’ve had worse.” Guilt assuaged me when she flinched. She’d never hid her feelings from me, and I’d always known how sad she was over what had happened to me as a child. It was in her eyes. Her touch. The way she always tried to heal me with her love, as if she could’ve magically taken away the scars from my face.
And the reminders of how I’d gotten them.
It was amazing what facial hair could do. How it could hide what was beneath it. How it could change the way a person viewed you. When we were younger, my artificial smile had always been on full display, constantly reminding her of the pain etched into my skin. But now, with a full beard, it was as if she saw something different. As if she saw me, and not the product of a heinous act.
Running my fingertip from her temple to her chin, I asked, “Why are you with him?”
She cleared her throat and glanced away. “I’m not, but he won’t take the hint.”
“You looked like you were with him tonight. And last week. And the week before.”
My tone caused her to recoil, and it deepened the ache in my chest. “I’m biding my time.”
“I don’t know what that means, Rylee. Biding your time for what?”
Her eyes lifted to mine, and the tears lining the rims spilled over. “I go with him on Saturday nights because it’s the only way I get to see you. He doesn’t know that, of course. But he refuses to accept things are over, so he makes me go with him. I don’t complain because you’re there. I just have to finalize my plans to leave. He’ll never let me go if I stay here.”
As if in slow motion, I dropped my lips to hers, tasting her tears on my tongue. Her arms wound around my neck, and I took the opportunity to lift her off her feet, into my arms. Somehow, we ended up in her bedroom. She grabbed the bottom of my shirt and proceeded to lift it over my head. The material abraded my forehead and caused me to hiss in pain. It hadn’t bothered me until then. It was as if I just realized the cut was there.
“You need to clean it, Killian.”
“It can wait. You need me more.”
She took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. What I thought would be a quick cleaning of my cut turned out to be so much more. She started the shower and quickly took off her clothes. I did nothing but stand there and watch in wonder. In amazement.
She was a goddess.
Molded from the softest clay.
More beautiful than all my memories of her combined.
Once she was completely bare, she stood in front of me and looked into my eyes. Without glancing down, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and tugged them down until they pooled on the floor at my feet. My boxers followed next.
I stepped out of my shoes, into her, and pushed her backward until the scalding spray met our overheated flesh. The water soaked into her hair while I ran my fingers through the wet strands, watching as they darkened and began to spiral.
“I miss your curly hair.” My voice was husky, giving away my need for her as if she couldn’t feel it pressed against her belly. “I miss your eyes—the way they light up. Your lips. The way they glisten when you lick them.” My fingers grazed her shoulders and trailed lightly down her chest, over her breasts. Her nipples peaked and called—begged—for my attention. “I miss your body, and the way it responds to mine. The chills on your arms when I lick your neck. The way your stomach sucks in when I touch you”—I continued my perusal of her body until my fingertips found her clit—“here.”
“Killian,” she said with a gasp and closed her eyes.
I steadied her against the cold, tiled wall, not once relenting on what I did to her. “You come alive under my touch, Rylee.” I slipped my fingers through her silky folds until I plunged them into her tight cunt. “Come alive for me,” I whispered.
She lifted one leg and I took it, hooking it over my hip. It opened her up, allowing me to push deeper, feel her clench around my fingers. I added a third, pulling a grumbling moan from her chest.
I dropped my head to her shoulder and cupped her mound, pressing my palm against her clit while curling my fingers deep within her core. “You’re so tight. I can feel it, Rylee. You’re almost there. Come on my fingers so I can taste you.”
That’s all it took for her to fall apart against me. Her fingers threaded through my drenched hair, where she fisted her hands and tugged. The burn it left behind on my scalp had me rolling my hips into her, thrusting my cock against her stomach. She whimpered and called out my name, but I didn’t relent. I continued my assault, desperate to pull another orgasm from her.
“Rylee…” I grunted her name when she reached between us and gripped my cock. With each thrust into her hand, I plunged my fingers deep within her. “I need to be inside you.” As soon as those words left my lips, I removed my hand, lifted her other leg, and slammed into her.
In an instant, I filled her.
Her warmth covered me.
I was lost in her.
Pelvis to pelvis, I pushed into her, feeling her pussy hold onto me, stealing my breath. Draining me. Taking everything I had. With her arms holding me to her, she exhaled into my ear. Her breaths formed into words until they became the best sounds I’d ever heard.
“I love you. I love you.”
I thrust one more time before spilling myself deep inside her. Her inner walls clenched around me as she rode out her own waves of pleasure. Her orgasm trembled through her body, every muscle coiled tight.
The words, “I fucking love you” sat at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t utter them. She’d told me it didn’t count if I was balls deep in her, so I made sure the next time I admitted my love for her, they’d count.
Soaking wet and shivering, we scrambled to the bed and collapsed beneath the covers. I pulled her close, her back against my chest, and we found warmth together. I refused to let her go. Needing her skin to skin. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in so long, and I wasn’t about to lose it now.
“You mentioned you have a plan to leave,” I started once we were situated in our cocoon. “Where are we going?” When she shifted to face me, I couldn’t take my eyes off hers. The awe shining bright rendered me fucking speechless, but her gasp spurred something inside me. “I’m not leaving you, Rylee. I did that once before, and I’ll never do it again.”
“Then let’s go. Me and you…just like we used to talk about. Let’s leave. Tonight.” The hope in her tone took me from cloud nine to six feet under in a matter of three words. Let’s leave tonight. Defeat imprinted on her features, probably seeing the hesitation in mine.
“I have to wait until after next weekend.”
“Why?”
“The fight.” It was such an easy answer, one that made so much sense to me. But watching the hope drain from her eyes, the color fading from her cheeks, proved just how powerful it was. An
d not in a good way. “Rylee…I have to fight him. I have to do this.”
“He won’t let me go.” She teared up. “I told him we were over, but he won’t stop. It’s like he doesn’t hear me. If I wait—and then leave with you—he won’t just drop this control he has over me. It’ll make it worse.” She quivered in my arms, and something told me it was worse than I’d originally thought.
“Does he…? Has he forced himself…?” I couldn’t spit out the words.
Her shoulders lifted and she tucked her chin to her chest.
“I won’t let that happen again.”
“And how do you plan to stop him?”
“I’ll kill him.” I didn’t think twice about it until she whipped her head back and stared into my eyes. Fear brightened the gold. Uncertainty darkened the brown. Her pupils enlarged and practically took over the irises.
Dread covered me from head to toe as I replayed my words back to myself in my head. Instead of covering them up, burying the truth, I closed my mouth over hers. My lips trailed to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder.
Her chest.
Her stomach.
Her hip.
I sank my teeth into the flesh over the bone, leaving an imprint of my bite. When she hissed, I spoke against her skin and said, “I’ll mark you. He’ll know you’re mine.” I moved to the soft skin on her inner thigh and sucked hard enough to leave a round, purple mark behind. She tugged at my hair, pulling me up her body until I found my lips locked around her nipple. I clamped down around the hard bud, causing her to buck against me and whimper into the silent room. Again, I left behind a purple mark on the underside of her tit. “You’re mine. And he’ll know it.” I pulled away and sat back on my haunches. “One look at this body”—my fingertips grazed her skin like a brush on paper—“and there’ll be no doubt who you belong to.”
“I’m not property, Killian. I don’t belong to anyone.”
I fell onto my hands, caging her beneath me. “You own my heart, Rylee. All of me. I love you—yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Yes, you belong to me. Always have. Always will.” And then I crashed my lips into hers.
