Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3) (18 page)

God help her, she wanted it. Couldn’t he see that? She was a wet,
hot mess for him. All it’d take was for him to slip his hand beneath her
skirt and he’d feel the evidence of her desire against his fingertips—fingertips that bore the calluses of a fighter—hands she wanted to
take
control and make the choice for her so she wouldn’t have to bear the
shame of her weakness. She was wound so tight that she would
deto
nate at his slightest touch. All it’d take was one word—one three-letter
word that was hovering on the tip on her tongue.
Yes
. . .

“Clover, say it,” he demanded, his breath searing her lips.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t cross that line with him—not here—not now . . .

“Nikko, I . . .”

A door down the hall opened and voices filled the hallway. Violet tensed as they grew closer. Oh, shit, whose office were they in? What if someone came in here? How were they going to explain getting caught standing here in the dark? Nikko must have read her mind because a new level of tension was radiating off him. “Shhh . . .” he warned, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. “Don’t move. The lights are motion sensored.”

That would have been nice to know before. When he’d dragged her in here, they must not have come in far enough to trigger it. The voices grew louder as they headed their way.

“I know you don’t agree with me, Cole, so just admit it so you can quit sulking,” Marcus grumbled.

Nikko tensed. Vi slipped her hands to his waist, holding on to him as he untangled his hand from her hair and braced his forearms against the wall, shielding her with his body.

“Fine. I will—”

They stopped outside the door and she prayed to God this was not Marcus’s office.

“—I think you’re making a mistake. If I were you, I’d cut your losses and cancel Del Toro’s contract. He’s a loose cannon and a threat to the stability of the CFA.”

Vi’s grip on his waist tightened. She could only imagine what he must be feeling standing here listening to those men talk about him.

“You know, there was a time people said the same thing about you. What if I had believed that woman who claimed you assaulted her, or the rumors about ’roid use?”

“But those things weren’t true. Del Toro is a fucking time bomb and you know it.”

“Doesn’t matter that those rumors weren’t true. We still had to weather the storm and deal with the media. I stood by you when you couldn’t even walk and everyone said your career was over, so don’t bag on me for showing one of my guys the same solidarity I showed you. This team is a family, and you may not all like each other, but you’ll damn well support one another, and that’s not optional, you understand me?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Easton grumbled.

“Good. Now let’s not borrow any more trouble. Dr. Summers seems to have her shit together, so let’s wait and see, huh? Besides, we’ve got enough to worry about with the CFA deciding to go pro in the female sector. Holy balls . . . Bringing on female fighters, I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day.”

Cole chuckled. “Looks like Miller MMA is about to go coed.”

“God help me . . .” Marcus grumbled. “Hopefully, we’ll scout out some decent talent at the amateurs tonight.”

The voices moved on and Violet exhaled a sigh of relief. “I think they’re gone,” she whispered. Nikko leaned back and lifted his arm to let her escape. The shadows made it difficult to see his face, but from what she could glimpse, he was on total lockdown. It couldn’t have been easy listening to Cole speak so frankly, though she suspected it wasn’t anything he wouldn’t say to Nikko’s face. Cole didn’t exactly strike her as the kind of guy that pulled his punches—in the cage or out. But to hear how Marcus had defended Nikko warmed her heart, earning that man tons of respect in her book.

“Marcus seems like a really great guy to have in your corner.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. More than I deserve. Easton’s right; they should cut their losses while they’re ahead.”

“I don’t believe that, Nikko, and deep down, neither do you. You’re a fighter. For crissake, start fighting for your future.”

N
ikko didn’t try to stop Violet when she slipped out of the office. Standing there in the dark, he rested his forehead against his arm, braced against the wall, and just . . . breathed. Rage churned inside him like a volcanic tide. The truth of Easton’s words didn’t make them any easier to swallow, and the reality of it was a disqualifying kick to the balls. Bottom line, he
was
a ticking time bomb. He knew it, and so did they.

Coach was a goddamn saint . . . He didn’t want to let that man down, didn’t want to prove him wrong or make Violet look like a liar. Problem was, she wanted something from him he couldn’t give her—the truth. No one knew what happened in Alice-Gahn, and they never would. It was the day Nikko had been forced to make an impossible decision. It was the day he’d lost his soul. Remmy was just the first of the lives that were lost—innocent lives—and their blood still stained his hands. He could never wash them enough to erase the stain. Nothing could take away the guilt he lived with every fucking day.

Nikko muttered a foul curse and spun away from the wall, triggering the lights. He squinted against the fluorescents and absently rubbed his thumb over the tattoo of his dog tags on the inside of his right bicep.

The door opened as Willow called, “Nikko? Are you are in here? I saw the lights . . .”

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”

“Well . . . umm . . .”

She fidgeted nervously, a prickle of unease needling at the back of his neck. “Where’s Ray?”

“I just want to say, it wasn’t my idea. I told the boys you wouldn’t approve.”

“Mother. Fuck,” he cursed, storming past her and wrenching the office door open. It slammed against the wall with an echoing bang as he beat feet down the hall.

“Now, Nikko, don’t overreact,” Willow called, chasing after him.

He entered the center of the gym and came to an abrupt halt. “What do you think you’re doing, Kill? Get my goddamn kid out of that cage!”

“Hey, Dad!” Ray yelled, waving excitedly like she was trying to get his attention.

Oh, he could see her, all right. His baby girl was in the cage with the two top welterweight contenders. What in the fuck were they thinking? He was going to kill them . . . Nikko charged over to the cage as Kill stood beside his daughter, giving Ray instructions as she nodded emphatically, concentrating hard on what he was saying. Nikko couldn’t hear a thing beyond the blood thundering in his ears.

“What in the hell are you two doing?” he demanded. “Get her out of that cage!”

“It’s all right, Dad. Regan and Kyle are teaching me some self-defense moves. It’s called hapkido. Watch.”

Regan grabbed his little girl’s arm and Nikko saw red. He stormed toward the cage and was about to hop inside to pound the ever-loving hell out of him when Raven twisted her arm, breaking free of the hold, then grabbed Regan’s wrist, turning it counterclockwise and forcing the fighter to his knees.

“See, Dad, I did it!” she cried, beaming a grin from ear to ear. Kill cheered her on like she’d won a title fight, telling her how badass she was, while Regan complimented her timing. “I can’t believe I took Regan ‘Rapscallion’ Matthews to the mat! This is the best day ever!”

Raven’s excitement took some of the fuel out of his fire. He bit his lip to keep from saying something that would make him sound like a total buzzkill, but seeing his baby girl in the cage with these two fighters was not a pretty sight in any way, shape, or form. Nikko watched those two go at it on a daily basis and knew how lethal they could be. But, shit, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his little girl looking so animated and carefree or having so much fun. And the guys were grinning like they were having a hell of a time teaching her how to kick some ass.

“Damn, Del Toro, you should be proud of your girl. She’s a quick learner and has your speed. This kid would make one hell of a fighter someday.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t need you putting ideas in her head, nor do I appreciate you sticking my kid in the cage without talking to me first.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t taught her yourself. A girl who looks like this needs to be able to defend herself, Del Toro.”

Kill might have a point there, but it wasn’t one Nikko was too pleased to be hearing. Nor was he excited about having these guys introducing his daughter to the cage. Teaching Raven to take care of herself was his job, and he felt like he’d failed her enough as it was. He didn’t need to add this to the list.

“I taught Willow hapkido,” Kill added proudly, grinding more salt in his wound. “You get in the cage with that girl and she’ll kick your ass. Ain’t that right, Will?” Kill called to his baby sister.

Willow rolled her eyes. “I’m going to kick your ass, Kyle, if she gets hurt. Nikko left her in my care and then look at what you two do.”

Nikko could play this one of two ways. He could rip into Matthews and Scott for crossing the line—good intentions or not—and look like a total dick to his daughter, which would also embarrass the shit out of her. Or he could suck it up and get into this cage with them and teach his little girl how to defend herself. Perhaps he could demonstrate a few moves on Kill and get in a little payback while he was at it.

“All right, Ray,” Nikko said, climbing into the cage with the trio. “Show me what these two jackasses taught you.”

“What did you say this movie is about?” Nikko asked as Ray snuggled in beside him with her fuzzy pajamas and a big bowl of popcorn on her lap. Her hair was still damp from her shower and she smelled like strawberries. “Something about watering elephants?”

Ray laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. “No, Dad, it’s called
Water for Elephants
. You seriously haven’t seen this movie before?”

“I don’t watch movies, Ray.”

“I can see that,” she said, taking a cheap shot at his console TV. “And no Xbox, either . . . Jeez, what do you do with yourself?”

“I don’t know. Guess I’m pretty boring, huh?” he teased back.

“Are you kidding me? This has seriously been one of the best days of my life, and not just because I got to meet Kyle ‘The Killer’ Scott and Regan ‘Rapscallion’ Matthews. Although that was really awesome . . .”

“I had fun kicking them around, too. You really do have some talent. I was surprised by your speed. You’re a great striker.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a big grin. “So are you. I watch all your fights, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh . . .” Raven popped a piece of kettle corn into her mouth and turned her attention back to the TV. She ran the controller, and as the movie started up, he couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to get used to this. The only thing missing was a pale-haired, violet-eyed woman snuggled into the other side of him.

Nikko and Ray were halfway through the movie when his phone chirped on the end table beside him. He grabbed it and swiped his thumb across the screen. It was a text from Clover. After what happened today, she was about the last person he was expecting to hear from.

How are you doing?

Fine. Wasn’t expecting to hear from you.

He was about to set his cell back down when it vibrated again.

Thinking about you, about what happened today.

Which part?

“Who are you texting, Dad?” Ray craned her head up to give him a questioning look.

“No one, honey.” He was turning his cell to silent when it lit up with another message.

All of it.

I’m always thinking about you so I guess that makes us even.

The moment he hit Send, Ray lunged across his lap and snatched his phone out of his hand.

“Give me my phone, Ray.”

“Nope.” She held her arm in the air and was trying to read his messages as she scrambled away. He caught her ankle and she let out a squeal, falling back onto the couch, laughing.

“Give it to me.” He lunged for her, but she tucked it behind her back, giggling. Damn, Kill was right, this kid had some wicked reflexes. “What are you going to do now?” he teased. “The first rule in MMA is never trap your hands behind your back. You just submitted yourself. I’m not going to warn you again, Ray. Hand over the phone or else . . .”

“Or else what?” she challenged, arching her dark brow. “And who is Clover?”

“Or else this . . .” He began tickling her and she let out a shrill squeal. The neighbors probably thought he was killing someone in here. No doubt the police would be at his door any minute.

“Stop, stop!” she screamed. “You’re killing me!” He didn’t relent. “I’m going to pee!” she cried between fits of laughter.

He paused. “You going to give me back my phone?”

“You going to tell me who Clover is?”

“Probably not.”

Her smile fell and she gave him her serious scowl. He liked the laughing, joking Raven so much better. This girl looked . . . sad—too old for her fourteen years. Nikko exhaled a sigh and sat back in his seat. Ray scooted up and scrolled through his messages before handing him his cell back.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, Ray. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Why not? You obviously like her. And she likes you.”

“What makes you think she likes me?”

“Look at your message.”

He swiped his thumb across the screen.
This is crazy.
I can’t stop thinking about you, either. What are we going to do about this?

“I think she wants to be your girlfriend.”

“It’s not that simple. Would it bother you if she was?”

Raven turned to face him and sat cross-legged on the couch. Tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “It wouldn’t. I hate the idea of you being alone.”

“I’m not alone, Ray. I have you.”

“Yeah, when Mom lets me see you. You need someone more than me in your life. I want you to be happy.”

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be worrying about these things.”

Raven shrugged. “Do you worry about me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, it goes both ways. Tell me about her, this Clover. What kind of a name is that, anyway?” she teased, giving him an impish grin.

“What kind of a name is Ray?”

She punched him in the arm and he laughed, rubbing his bicep, feigning injury.

“That’s not my name. You’re the only one who calls me that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m the only one who calls her Clover. Her name is Violet.”

“Oh . . . I like that name.”

“I do, too,” he confessed.

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.”

“Is she nice?”

“Extremely.”

“Well . . . aren’t you going to text her back?”

That was a good question. He didn’t know what to say. Violet deserved a hell of a lot more than what he had to offer her—an MMA fighter who was on the brink of getting tossed from the CFA. Not a real winning prospect there. Maybe he should take a step back and ask himself what the hell he was doing and if he really wanted to drag this woman down with him. She was already lying for him, putting her reputation and her career on the line. Exhaling a sigh, he dragged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Ray. It’s complicated with her.”

“If you like her and she likes you, then that’s all that matters. Text her back.”

If only it were that simple. Changing the subject, Nikko pocketed his phone and said, “It’s after eleven, sweetheart. You should probably get to bed.” It was a lame response, but a better one than digging into the truth about why he and Violet weren’t together.

Ray frowned, nibbling at her bottom lip, and went back to picking her polish off her thumb. “Can I tell you something?” she asked softly, not looking up to meet his eyes.

“Of course.” He tensed, not sure what she was about to say, but wanting her to feel like she could tell him anything. He didn’t want there to be any secrets between them—he had enough of them with everyone else.

“Sweetheart, you can tell me anything.”

She hesitated, looking at him as if she were undecided about something, and then whispered, “I wish I didn’t have to go back tomorrow.”

Just when he thought there wasn’t any part of his heart left to break, that girl managed to find a piece and shatter it.
Fuck
. . . Reaching for his daughter, he pulled her into his arms, confessing, “So do I, Ray.”