Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  Frank was back, taking him to the cage and the rest became a blur of sight and sound. He saw Stone in the ring already, rolling his shoulders, shadow boxing for the crowd. Then he was in the cage and the referee was shouting out his height and weight, his record and then that of Stone. He could see Frank on the floor outside the cage, already pacing.

  And then he noticed the empty chair in the front row. He remembered asking Frank, weeks before, to set out a chair for Angela. Apparently Frank had remembered...

  “Fighters in the ring!” The referee motioned to Liam and Stone. They moved to the center of the ring, standing almost toe-to-toe while the referee spoke.

  “Fighters, you know the rules. I want a good clean fight. I will not tolerate anything less. Touch gloves and let’s get ready to rock and roll.”

  Liam touched gloves with Stone and then stepped back to the cage, bouncing on his toes, trying to stay loose, until the referee yelled to Stone.

  “Fighter’s ready?” He saw Stone nod. The referee turned to Liam.

  “Fighter’s ready?” Liam nodded and then he heard the bell, the first three minute round starting.

  Stone was after him immediately, and Liam struggled to find his rhythm. Stone was quick and Liam felt blow after blow land on his body. He was backpedaling and he could hear Frank yelling.

  Liam saw an opening, taking a swing that connected with Stone’s mid-section. It felt solid and he knew it was a good hit. Then he set up for another, a combination that surprised Stone.

  He was pushing Stone back, his confidence building. Then movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention, a girl with blonde hair...

  Stone’s punch landed on Liam’s body, sending him off-balance. He stumbled, going down and Stone was on him, hitting him in the body, the ribs, grabbing him in a hold, not letting go.

  Somehow Liam broke the hold, scrambling away as Stone continued after him, pummeling him. Panic rose up in Liam’s throat. Shit...get back in the match.

  He somehow got to his feet, evading a punch aimed at his face. Ducking, he came up with a hard swing at Stone, but his reach was off, Stone moving forward.

  Liam’s hand impacted with Stone’s ribs harder than Liam anticipated. He felt the wet snap of a bone in his hand, the pain hot and intense.

  Stone heard it too, a look crossing is face. He smells blood...

  Liam was trying to dance out of Stone’s reach, looking for a chance to land a solid kick. Stone swung, Liam dodged and lashed out with his left leg, landing a solid foot to Stone’s mid-section.

  Before he could follow up, the bell for the first round sounded. He made his way to his corner, Frank wiping his face. The towel came away covered in blood.

  “Good kick...keep those up. He’s cut you under the eye. It’s swelling so you’re going to have to watch that side if it swells shut.”

  Liam rinsed his mouth, spitting the water out.

  “And get your head out of your ass, boy. He’s had you against the cage more times than I care to see. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not about this match.”

  Liam jammed his mouth guard back between his teeth, nodding his head. He’s right...she’s not here, but that doesn’t mean you bail on the fight. Show her you don’t need her...get back in the match.

  The bell sounded for the second three minutes. Stone was aggressive, coming across the cage after Liam.

  Liam was ready, charging Stone. They met in the middle of the ring, in a tight clinch, raining blows on each other. Liam felt his punches landing solidly, slowly working away at Stone.

  But then Stone managed to throw a knee to Liam’s ribs, knocking them apart. Liam stumbled, his balance off. A blow to the head sent him reeling back, stumbling down to the mat.

  He looked up as Stone kicked out, his foot making direct contact with Liam’s ribs. There was another snapping sound and the breath went out of Liam. He struggled to his feet as Stone took another swing.

  Liam felt the blow connect with his temple and he wanted to raise his arms, to punch back, but nothing seemed to be working.

  I’m not done yet...shit...

  The roar of the crowded seemed to ebb and flow around him. He felt the mat beneath his face, strangely hard and soft at the same time. There were voices calling his name, Frank’s bellow closest, someone else, higher pitched.

  I’m on the mat...shit. Get up...fight, damn it! Get up!

  But his body refused to cooperate and then he closed his eyes. He could hear the bell sounding, amazingly loud and then there was total silence.

  I can smell her perfume...

  *

  Morning sunlight was streaming through the windows, a patch cutting across Liam’s blanket-covered legs. Angela had watched the sun come up, the light growing stronger, the patch of sunlight moving across the bed. She thought about calling her father, decided to wait until he was at work, until someone had come to see Liam, tell her how he was.

  A noise in the hall made her turn. A tall man was talking to a nurse, who hurried off down the hall. The man stopped in the doorway, looking at Angela.

  “Good morning, I’m Doctor Mulvaney.” He picked up a clipboard hanging from the end of Liam’s bed.

  “Can you tell me how he is, please?” Angela rose from her chair.

  “Are you family?” The doctor was reading from the clipboard. He moved toward Liam, flashing a small light in his eyes, checking various machines.

  “He doesn’t have any family. I’m his girlfriend. Angela Reynolds.” Angela was standing awkwardly in the corner of the room, trying to avoid the complicated-looking machines that beeped and hummed, all of the connected in some way to Liam.

  “I see.” The doctor flipped a few pages on the clipboard. “Oh, you’re listed as family. Also someone named Frank Delaney.” He gave Angela a questioning glance.

  “His trainer. He’s somewhere in the building. Do you want me to find him?”

  “No. I can tell you how he is, answer your questions. If Mr. Delaney has any questions, the nurses can page me and I’ll come back. As far as Liam here, we’ve done some tests. He’s responding to voice commands...he’ll open his eyes...and he’s responding to us if we ask him questions but he’s not making any sense.”

  “Is he in a coma?” Angela was chewing on her thumbnail, her eyes moving between Liam and the doctor.

  “No, not a coma. He’s had what we call a traumatic brain injury. It’s severe, but right now, I’d say he’s stable. At the moment there’s no swelling in the brain, which is good. We’ll monitor him for that though. Otherwise, we’re just waiting for him to regain consciousness.” The doctor made some notes on a clipboard.

  Angela sat in the chair next to Liam’s bed, aching to touch him but not sure where. There seemed to be no part of him that wasn’t covered in bandages or had some kind of tube attached.

  “And we’re treating his other injuries as well, the cuts and bruises. He’s also got some fractured ribs and a broken hand. We’ve got that in a splint at the moment and later an orthopedic surgeon will take a look; he might need surgery to pin the broken bones.”

  The doctor patted Angela on the shoulder. “You can hold his hand. The tube in his arm is an IV for fluids. You won’t hurt that by holding his hand. The device on the end of his finger senses the oxygen level in his blood. Otherwise, we’ve bandaged the cuts and wrapped his ribs.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate what you’re doing for him.”

  “Talk to him. He can hear you. Just don’t expect a response right now or one that makes sense.”

  The doctor left the room and Angela was alone with Liam and the beeping machines. She stroked his hand, felt the warmth of his skin. His face was pale except for the bruise beneath that swelled one eye shut and the violent darkening at his temple, the place where he’d gotten punched by Stone, the blow that knocked him to the mat.

  Angela could still hear the sound of Stone’s fist against Liam’s head. And the sound of Liam hitting the mat. She shook her head;
it was a sickening sound she wished she could make go away.

  She rested her head next to Liam’s thigh, the white blanket vaguely scratchy beneath her cheek. The room was quiet except for the beeping of the machines and the sounds from the hall: indistinct voices, a sudden sharp cry, a cart with a squeaky wheel. Angela drifted off, the exhaustion in her body finally winning out over the turmoil in her mind.

  The hand on her shoulder made her jump. She turned, her heart racing, to find Frank standing behind her.

  “Sorry.” His voice didn’t carry its usually gruff note. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Here.”

  He held out a cup of what she thought was soup; it had a spoon stuck in it and didn’t smell like coffee. The aroma made her realize she was hungry.

  “Thanks.” She sat back in the chair, taking a tentative sip. It was hot and salty but somehow tasted wonderful.

  “How’s he doing?” Frank motioned with his chin toward Liam.

  “The same...the doctor was here, said he’s not in a coma, he’s stable but unconscious. We just have to wait for him to wake up.” She took another spoonful of soup.

  “How are you doing, Angela? You look exhausted.” Frank pulled a chair up to the other side of Liam’s bed.

  “Tired. But wired at the same time...my mind is racing but my body just wants to fall over.”

  Frank was silent for a moment, looking down at Liam. “You know, he was looking for you.” There was no recrimination in his voice.

  Angela looked up from her soup. “I know. I...got hung up in traffic.”

  “You didn’t want to be there. He said you’d told him you couldn’t stand by and watch him get hurt.”

  Angela put down the soup. She reached out, smoothing the blanket over Liam’s legs.

  “No...I didn’t want to be there. I was afraid...” She took Liam’s hand, slowly tracing a spiral on his palm.

  “But then I realized I was thinking of myself, not Liam. I thought about how I would feel if I needed him and he wasn’t there for me. Even though I’d said I loved him, I really hadn’t shown him that I did. But I realized I could show him, by going to the match.”

  Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “But I think I was too late. He never knew I was there, did he?”

  Frank shook his head. “No, Angela, he didn’t. He went into the fight thinking you’d stood him up...abandoned him. But he kept looking for you...waiting for you to show up.”

  “It’s because of me he’s like this then?” Angela turned her tear-stained face to Frank.

  “I can’t say that...” Frank rubbed the side of his nose.

  “Yes. You can. Just be honest.”

  “His head wasn’t in the fight...no.”

  Angela nodded. “Then this is my fault.”

  Frank took her hand. “You can’t think like that. Liam is...well, he should have been acting like a professional. He should have been able to focus, regardless what’s going on in his head. That’s his job. You can’t take the fall for him having his head up his ass...”

  Angela shook her head in disagreement. “I feel responsible.” She turned back to Liam. “All I had to do was be there...such a simple thing. And I let him down.”

  Sometime later someone was calling her name. She lifted her head from Liam’s bed, opening her eyes, squinting up at her father.

  “Angela.” He pulled a chair next to hers.

  “Hi, Dad.” Her voice was thick, the words sticking in her throat.

  “How is he?”

  “The same. He responds to pain...Dad, they pinch his fingernails.” She looked up at her father, anguish in her voice.

  “I’m sure they know what they’re doing, Angel. But he is responding? That’s a good sign.”

  Angela sighed. “Yeah...he moves his head sometimes if they talk loudly at him. They said the tests came back showing that there’s no swelling in his brain. We just need to wait for him to wake up.”

  “You look exhausted. Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

  “Frank brought me something to eat...soup. There’s vending machines down the hall and coffee, but I’m not hungry. The nurses let me sleep here, or down in the lounge.”

  “You need to rest...”

  “Yeah, I know. Frank says the same thing. But I can’t be anywhere but here right now. It’s my fault...that he’s here, like this.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “No, it’s not Angela...”

  “But it is. I let him down. He was looking for me and I wasn’t there.” Angela broke into tears, sobs shaking her body. Her father pulled her against him, her head on his shoulder.

  “You’re exhausted. You need to eat and sleep, at least for a little while, away from here. Come home with me now. You can come back after you’ve rested. You’re only going to make yourself sick.”

  Angela closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her. “Alright. Just for a little while, a couple hours. Let me tell the nurses, in case he wakes up. They can call my cell phone.”

  The car was waiting for them at the hospital entrance. Her father held the door and Angela climbed wearily into the back seat.

  “Why are you here, Dad? You didn’t need to come see Liam. I was going to call you later.”

  “It occurred to me there was something I could do here to help. I assumed, correctly, that Liam doesn’t have insurance. I’ve made arrangements to pay his hospital bill and for any therapy he may need after he’s released.”

  Angela stared at her father. “Why would you do that? You don’t even like Liam.”

  Her father smiled. “I never said I didn’t like Liam. I said I didn’t think he was the right person for you. I may be revising my opinion of that. But more to the point, he’s important to you, very important. And knowing his situation, I wanted to help. There would be no way he could afford to pay for his treatment. I didn’t feel that was fair.”

  Angela stared at her father before resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you so much, Dad. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m not so sure Liam will feel the same, but we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” Angela yawned, closing her eyes.

  Someone was shaking her, pulling her from the car. She stumbled up the steps, falling onto the bed. She opened her eyes as someone pulled a blanket over her shoulders. Her father was standing next to the bed.

  “Just let me sleep for an hour or so, okay? I want to be back in case he wakes up.” She was asleep before he had a chance to answer.

  *

  He could smell her perfume on his pillow and he rolled over, reaching for her. But everything hurt...there was pain in his hand, his arm. And his head. Must have had too much to drink.

  “Angela?” He heard his voice, a hoarse croak. What the hell?

  He tried to sit up but everything in his head went swirling and black and he lay back on the bed.

  Much later Liam opened his eyes, or tried to. One was swollen shut, painful. He managed to peer out of one good eye, trying to see where he was. Pain shot through his head as he tried to move it on the pillow so he lay still, looking at what was in front of him.

  This was a hospital room, not his apartment. That made sense, probably explained why everything hurt. It was daylight. Probably the day after the match...

  Blurry images swam to the surface, but had a hard time pinning any of them down.

  Think, damn it...what the hell happened?

  The match...he’d been distracted. Angela wasn’t there, the chair Frank had reserved for her mocking him, as it remained empty. Bitter tears welled under his eyelids, trickling down over his cheek, stinging as they ran into the cut below his left eye.

  He remembered throwing some good punches, driving Stone back. Reflexively he clenched his fist, gasping at the sudden pain and immobility. Bringing his right hand up he saw it was splinted. Broken... I remember throwing that punch. And then a whole lot after that.

  Now end of the match came back: up against the cage, the hard fee
l of it against his back. Panic, no control, all of it slipping away.

  Stone throwing a knee, catching him in the ribs, the breath knocked out of him in a whooping exhalation.

  Liam took a tentative breath, felt the stabbing pain in his side, the tight constriction of the bandages that must be wrapped around his chest. Broken...knew that when he hit me. Heard the snap.

  Then covering up as blows rained down on his body, his face...and then...not much else. One of Stone’s blows must have done its job, taken him out completely.

  He touched his face, his head, with his left hand. There was a lump at his temple, and if he had a mirror, he was certain he’d find a purpling bruise.

  There were only vague flashes after that: the mat against his face, Frank’s voice in his ear. The scent of Angela’s perfume...

  No, wait. That was now...but she wasn’t there.

  Liam shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. The pain behind his eyes was fading, still there but dimmed, hovering in the background.

  He lay back, looking up at the ceiling tiles. She didn’t show up, she wasn’t there. She’d said she be there for him, that loving him meant loving all the things that went along with this...with whatever the hell he was trying to do here. She said she didn’t understand but that it didn’t matter.

  Well, fuck her. Apparently it did matter, in the end. He could do this without her, without anyone. He’d learned more than how to survive a match. He’d learned that he’d been right all along; never trust anyone. All it did was fuck everything up, every single time.

  He rolled toward the window, jerking the plastic tubing that ran into his arm. Something beeped but he didn’t bother to find out what it was. He tugged the single thin pillow from under his head, trying to hug it to his chest. There was a noise behind him, someone coming in his room. If it’s a nurse, maybe I can get another pillow...

  “Liam?”

  His body stiffened, every sense suddenly alive. Suddenly the pain was gone and all he could hear was her voice, smell her perfume.