Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) (42 page)

“Stop this,” she sobbed. Vincent’s grip on her hair tightened painfully and he yanked her head back again when she tried to look away. “He’s going to kill him . . .”

“That’s precisely the point, my dear.”

Desperation clawed at her from the inside out. Her wild gaze searched for Nikko, but she couldn’t find him in the frenzied crowd. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been climbing the cage, yelling at Aiden. Where was he? Aiden needed him!

Aiden staggered to his feet, but her relief was short-lived. The next three punches were a crippling combination of body shots—two in the ribs and one in the gut, each blow sending him stumbling back. “No . . .” she screamed, her throat raw, voice cracking. Aiden must have heard her because he glanced up, giving her a chance to survey the damage. There was a large gash over his left brow, blood running freely down the side of his face, and his bottom lip was split. His breathing was fast and labored. By the strain of his tightly drawn brows, she knew each breath must be torturously painful, yet his body refused to grant him any quarter, the demand for oxygen overruling all other needs.

Their eyes connected and locked for one brief second, right before his slid to Moralli. At the sight of her held tight in the monster’s clutches, fire blazed in Aiden’s amber eyes that returned to her with steely determination. There he was—there was her fighter with the heart to never give up. And for the briefest moment, a flicker of hope blossomed inside her chest. She mouthed the words
I love you
and laid her hand over her heart. If she never got the chance to actually say it again, at least he would die knowing she loved him.

His top lip curled in the faintest hint of a smile.

Wham!
The fighter dealt Aiden a blow that dropped him to his knees. An arch of blood splattered across the mat. Time stopped, temporarily suspended by her horror as Aiden toppled forward. “Noooo!” she screamed, leaping to her feet, fighting to get out of Moralli’s grasp. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aiden’s opponent drop on top of him, raining down brutal punishing blows. She struggled and flailed to break free. She had to get to him, she had to stop this. Movement to the left caught her eye and suddenly Nikko was behind them. He lunged for Moralli, who must have seen him, too, because he let go of her to fend off the attack.

“Run, Ryann! Get out of here!”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Ryann bolted from the balcony and ran down the stairs, weaving in and out, and pushing past spectators who were on their feet, screaming and cheering. They were so engrossed in the fight, no one had any idea they were witnessing a murder—or if they did, they didn’t care. She hit the ground floor, but instead of running for the doors like Nikko instructed, she ran for the cage. If anyone saw her, they were either too curious or too shocked to stop her. She charged up to the platform and burst into the cage.

“Stop!” she screamed, running toward Aiden as the fighter knelt over him, hammering him with punches.

When neither of them responded, she acted in thoughtless desperation and threw herself on the fighter’s back. Slipping her arm beneath his neck like she’d seen fighters do during countless YouTube videos, she yanked back with all her might. But the move wasn’t as effective for her as it was for the fighters on TV. She wasn’t sure if Aiden was conscious. God, she wasn’t sure if he was even breathing! What if she was too late?

“Stop!” she screamed again, pummeling the fighter with her fists. His momentary surprise swiftly turned to anger. The growl curdling in his throat sounded more animal than man as he turned and swung his arm around, knocking her off his back. He was stronger than she’d realized. And when the fighter’s fist connected with the side of her head, stars exploded behind her eyes and she went flying.

Ryann tumbled across the mat like a rag doll. As she rolled to a stop, the roar of Aiden’s fury filled the cage, drowning out the crowd’s macabre cheers. Amid the pain rocketing through her temple, relief crashed over her. He was still alive!

It took a moment for the spots dotting her vision to clear, but when they did, she couldn’t believe the sheer impossibility of what she was seeing. Aiden had the fighter pinned to the mat and was hammering him with punches. And the brutality she saw burning in his eyes—the rage, the vengeance . . . He fought with a fierce mercilessness she hadn’t thought him capable of. How was it possible? How was he still conscious, let alone fighting? Yet there he was, caught in the throes of raw, primal aggression.

The man beneath him wasn’t moving. He’d gone flaccid several punches ago, but Aiden showed no signs of stopping. The bloodthirsty crowd went wild, cheering and screaming for Aiden to finish him, and she had no doubt that
was
exactly what he intended to do. She couldn’t let him do it. She knew him too well, knew if he killed this man, it would haunt him the rest of his life. Aiden wasn’t his father. He wasn’t a vengeful, heartless monster. He wasn’t a killer.

“Aiden . . .” she called for him, wincing when the movement made the pain knifing into her head worse. She must have been hit harder than she realized. Ryann tried to sit up, to get his attention, but the room began spinning. Her vision blurred, fading in and out. “Aiden!” she called louder, panic edging into her voice. She laid back down, trying to stop the tilting that was full on tumbling now. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hand to her temple.

Aiden called her name, followed by a foul curse. He sounded a million miles away, his voice tight with urgency. But she was too dizzy to answer him, nausea churning in her gut. A moment later, a strong pair of arms slipped beneath her, lifting her up and cradling her against a wall of solid muscle. She could feel the thunder of his heartbeat against her shoulder. Through the scent of clean male sweat, Ryann could smell Aiden’s familiar spicy scent and let her body relax into him. The darkness hedging around her consciousness began invading her senses and pulling her under. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She was so tired . . . Every beat of her heart was like a spike driving into her temple, the dizziness clawing at her. If she could just rest for a little while . . .

“Ryann?” The fear in Aiden’s voice pulled at her, but the lure wasn’t strong enough to get her to open her eyes.

Just as she was drifting off, a loud bang resonated inside her head, followed by the pounding of footsteps and a voice calling out, “This is the FBI! Nobody move!”

CHAPTER

 44 

R
yann opened her eyes and quickly shut them again. The light streaming in through the window was bright enough to blind the Virgin Mary. And that pounding . . . God have mercy, someone needed to stop that hammering. There was movement on the bed beside her, and a moment later she heard the sharp rasp of scraping metal and then everything became wonderfully dimmed. When she felt the mattress cave to the added weight beside her hip, she ventured another attempt at opening her eyes.

“You’re awake.”

Aiden’s deep, husky voice was like a soothing balm over the throbbing in her head. Lord, he was a blessed sight. Aside from a line of sutures above his left brow and a few bruises, he didn’t seem much the worse for wear. She wished she could say the same for herself.

“Where am I?” she croaked, her throat dry and raspy.

“The penthouse. You took a bad blow to the head. You’ve been in and out for a couple of days. I don’t know if you remember . . .”

“A little bit, but not very much. It’s mostly a blur.”

He nodded and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The doctors said you have a bad concussion. It might be a while before—”

“Hey, Aiden, my cab is here. Tell Gingersnap I said—oh, hey, you’re awake.” Nikko popped his head in the doorway. Finding her conscious, he stepped inside. The strap of his CFA duffel was slung over his muscular shoulder, the overstuffed bag resting against his hip.

“You’re leaving?” She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness crashed into her, making her stomach roll, churning in the tide of nausea.

Aiden reached for her shoulders, steadying her as he gently laid her back against the pillow. “Easy, sweetheart . . . don’t move so fast.”

“Where are you going, Nikko?”

“Back to Vegas. My flight leaves JFK in a few hours.”

“But do you have to go so soon?”

“I’ve been gone for three weeks. As fun as this has been, I gotta get back to the real world sometime.” He dropped his bag into the chair as he came around the side of the bed. “Listen, I’m not good at good-byes, so I’m just going to say see ya later. When you’re up to it, you can text me your guacamole recipe, huh? Never know when I’m gonna need it.”

Ryann laughed. “Sure thing. Now come over here and give me a hug.”

Nikko hesitated a moment. The tension that came over him was almost imperceptible, but she knew him well, and the unease was undeniably there. He gave Aiden a questioning glance and the two exchanged a brief look she couldn’t decipher before Aiden canted his head and moved back, making room for Nikko to approach.

Nikko bent down and carefully slipped his arms around her. By the stiffness of his embrace, she could tell he wasn’t comfortable letting people get this close—physically or emotionally. But he’d helped save her life, so he was just going to have to endure a little gratitude. When he pulled back, she brushed her lips against his scarred cheek. He flinched.
Wow . . .
she thought sadly,
whoever hurt this man sure did one hell of a bang-up job.
“Have a safe flight back home, Nikko.”

“Take it easy, Gingersnap, Aiden.”

Nikko grabbed his bag off the chair and turned to leave.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Aiden offered, following him out.

While Ryann waited for Aiden to return, she tested her equilibrium again by slowly sitting up. This time she was far more successful. The pounding in her head had dulled to an annoying throb. She needed to use the bathroom and figured a toothbrush and toothpaste might help her feel a little more human again. A shower might be nice, too. Ryann braced her hand against the nightstand and tried standing. After the initial wave of vertigo, it was manageable. She gingerly made her way to the dresser and stopped to grab one of Aiden’s T-shirts from the second drawer. All her clothes were still packed in her suitcase somewhere. Wow . . . was it really just a few days ago that she’d been ready to run away from Aiden? Now, all she wanted was to crawl into his arms and hear him tell her he loved her—that everything was finally going to be okay.

She gingerly entered the bathroom, and after seeing to her personal needs and brushing her teeth, she actually felt half human again. So far so good . . . Shower next. She didn’t dally, just a quick scrub and hair washing. After toweling off, she slipped into Aiden’s T-shirt, not noticing which one she’d grabbed until after she’d put it on. Ryann grabbed the hem of the red shirt, stretching it out to get a better look at the icon, and smiled at seeing the yellow
I
against a black backdrop encased by orange swirls.

She shook her head, smiling to herself, making a mental note to remember to ask him about his penchant for superhero T-shirts. Though she couldn’t deny Aiden was her Batman, her Superman, and her Green Lantern, he was absolutely and indisputably her Mr. Incredible. She was still smiling as she left the bathroom. She’d almost made it back to bed when a stern, masculine voice fractured the silence in the room.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Crap . . . busted.

Aiden’s scowl darkened as he strode into the bedroom.

“I had to use the bathroom, and I figured I might as well shower and brush my teeth while I was up.”

“And how do you feel?”

His arched brow told her he knew exactly how she felt. “Like I was hit by a truck,” she confessed. He closed the distance and took her into his arms, gently helping her back into bed.

“Yeah, well, that truck has been retired,” he grumbled under his breath.

The longer she was awake, the more her memories were coming back in bits and pieces of what happened that night—some memories she wished would stay gone, others she would cherish the rest of her life, like the undeniable love and sacrifice Aiden had shown her in that cage when he’d selflessly handed himself over to a monster he could have easily defeated.

“Did you kill him—that fighter?”

Aiden shook his head. “I would have if you hadn’t stopped me. God, Ryann, when that bastard hit you—” His voice broke, and it took him a moment before he could continue. “When you tumbled across that mat, I thought . . . I thought he’d killed you.”

She reached for Aiden’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. When those mesmerizing amber eyes shot up to lock on hers, Ryann’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the luminous sheen glassing them. Emotion clogged her throat when she tried to speak. She cleared it and attempted again. “I’m going to be fine, Aiden.”

“I know you are—especially now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s over, Ryann. You’re free. I’m free—free from Moralli, free from my father, and your father will finally get the justice he deserves.”

“Oh, Aiden . . .” The tears she’d been fighting to hold back broke free—tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of gratitude. Aiden truly had saved her life.

“Hey, shhh . . .” he whispered, reaching up to dry her cheeks with his thumbs. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“It’s not that,” she sniffed, swiping at a wayward tear. “I never . . . I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I am for doubting you. How sorry I am for the things I said, and for pushing you away. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Aiden pulled her into his arms. After giving her a long hug, he leaned back and took her face in his hands. Those gorgeous amber eyes flecked with deep browns and gold dust searched hers, looking for something. And what she saw reflected in them touched her to her very soul. God help her, she was so hopelessly in love with this man . . .

He kissed her forehead before letting her go. She sat beside him, alternating between glancing at him and picking at a loose thread on the comforter. Still, it couldn’t be this easy . . . How could he not be mad at her for mistrusting him?

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive—nothing to apologize for. We’ve both said and done things we regret, things we’d do different if given the opportunity.”

Wasn’t that the truth? She gave him a sad, apologetic smile. “Wouldn’t that be nice? No lies, no secrets, no manipulation . . .”

“No roofies . . .” he added, teasing her with a sexy, roguish grin.

A bubble of laughter broke free and she nudged his arm with her elbow.

“Ouch . . .” he chuckled, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry. I forgot about your arm.”

“It’s fine. Really. It’s just going to take a little time to heal, that’s all.”

“Sounds like that’s true for a lot of things, huh? Wouldn’t it be nice to have a second chance? To be able to start all over and do things right this time?”

His smile faltered, his expression growing serious. “It’s funny you’d say that, because that’s kinda what I need to talk to you about.”

The sudden shift in Aiden’s mood sent alarms sounding off inside her head. What was he going to say? Lord, she didn’t think she could take any more bad news. Ryann waited in silence for him to continue, each passing second interminably painful.

“I have to go into witness protection, Ryann. I don’t know for how long. I guess that depends on how long it takes for this to go to trial. But since I have to testify, the feds don’t want to take any chances, and they’re not giving me a choice in the matter. It’s a part of my immunity deal. I know it’s abrupt and the timing is terrible, but this is actually happening really fast and there are a lot of decisions that have to be made in the next few days.”

“I see . . .” she said numbly, feeling like her world was about to come crashing in on her for the second time this week. Oh, God, what was she going to do? She couldn’t lose him. Not again . . .

“So I was umm . . . wondering . . . would you like to be Mrs. Michael Fisher?”

Huh? Who?
Ryann’s heart stuttered and then kicked into a gallop, her mind grinding to a screeching halt before jumping tracks. “Aiden, are you . . . are you asking me to marry you? Because I was hit on the head pretty hard, and that is a horrible joke to play on a woman with a concussion.”

The smile he gave her would have made her swoon if she wasn’t already sitting down. Aiden turned to face her, slipped off the bed, then knelt on one knee. Forget the gallop—her heart was doing the forty-yard dash. Her breath caught in her throat when he took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes . . .

Oh, my God! He’s going to propose!

“Ryann Andrews, will you do me the honor of becoming my fake wife?”

Wait. What? Fake wife?
Was he serious? Ryann didn’t know what to say. She sat there in stunned silence, staring at him in utter shock. She’d been hoping . . . Aww hell, she didn’t even want to think about what she’d been hoping he would say. Maybe she was being unreasonable, expecting too much from him too soon. She should just be glad he wasn’t leaving her. Especially after—

“And then, when this is all over, I was kinda thinking you could be my real wife.”

He bit his lip, trying to hold back his smile as he waited for her answer, but failed. That ass . . . He was teasing her! And then she realized,
Oh, my God, he is proposing! For real!

His grin began to falter. “All right, Ryann, you haven’t said anything yet. I’m starting to get a little nervous you’re going to say—”

“Yes!” she blurted out. “Yes, I’ll marry you! And I’ll be your fake wife and we’ll have a fake dog and a fake house! It’s going to be the fresh start I was hoping for!” She threw herself into his arms and he caught her before tumbling back, landing on the floor.

He chuckled at her excitement and then rolled her beneath him, pinning her with his solid weight. Lord, she missed this . . . she missed being in his arms, missed their connection—a connection she was relieved to discover had not been destroyed by their mistakes, their doubts, and their fears.

Aiden captured her mouth in a soul-searing kiss . . . a kiss that branded him inside her heart from this day forward, until death do they part.