Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3)

by Melynda Price

  That was it. This asshole was going down. Nikko pushed forward and Violet stumbled back, her grip on him tightening.

  “Barry, you need to leave, now!”

  The urgency in her tone put his feet into motion. He shot her a parting glance and said, “I’ll call you later. Just think about what I said, huh?”

  “Think about what, Violet? What did he say to you?” Nikko demanded. He looked down and found her staring up at him, her little hands fisted in his shirt. Tears pooled in her eyes. She looked sad . . . and so disappointed it killed him. Her pain was like a sucker punch in the solar plexus, drowning out the voices in his head, but it did nothing to fix that gut-wrenching ache in his heart.

  “Not now, Nikko. I can’t . . . I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Just . . . go back to your dinner with Dean and Marcus and try to salvage what’s left of your career, because after this scene you just made, mine will most assuredly be over.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, pulling a pained groan from his throat. “Clover . . .” He lifted his hand to wipe it away with his thumb, but she pulled away before he could touch her.

  “Don’t, Nikko . . .”

  Her hand was shaking as she reached up and swiped at her tear, brushing it away. It killed him to see her hurting and to know that he was the one responsible for it. He’d reacted on impulse. He still didn’t know what she was doing here with her ex, and he damn well wanted answers—but there was no guilt in her expression, only disappointment.

  He could feel eyes on him. At this point it was going to be all about damage control—with Violet and Dean. When she reached down to grab her purse and hoisted the strap over her shoulder, he couldn’t explain the irrational panic that rose up inside him, but something in his gut told him if he let her walk out of here, he was going to lose her.

  “I have to go,” she said.

  She was leaving. Exhaling a shaky breath, he suddenly realized his legs were weak. If he didn’t sit his ass down, there was a good chance Coach was going to be picking him up off the floor. He couldn’t speak. His throat was tight, clogged by emotion he swore he’d never allow himself to feel again. Except this time with Violet, it was a hundred times worse.

  “Good night, Nikko,” she whispered, turning and walking out before he could stop her.

  God help him. How in the hell was he going to sit through this business meeting and hold his shit together for the next two hours when all he wanted to do was puke?

  Violet was going to be sick. Anger, shame, and regret churned in her gut like a bitter cocktail. How could Nikko believe she’d betray him with Barry? Didn’t he realize that she loved him? For crissake, she’d put her career and her reputation on the line to be with him! She’d crossed just about every ethical boundary there was in her desperation to help him. How could he not trust her?

  His lack of faith in her—in them—dealt her a stinging slap of reality, and she’d had to get out of there before a bad situation turned worse. With Dean and Marcus watching them, there was no doubt their private relationship had just gone very public, and she shuddered at the thought of the ramifications. Not only did the CFA know Violet had become intimately involved with her client, but Barry now knew it as well, and she’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t use that against her somehow.

  Even if she were fortunate enough to convince the CFA to spare her contract and not report her misconduct to her boss, Barry now had her career to leverage against her. As all these thoughts boiled in the cauldron of her mind, she sat at the kitchen table staring at the manila envelope, unable to bring herself to break the seal. For this file she’d sacrificed everything—her reputation, her career, her integrity. Once she opened it, there would be no going back. She might finally have the truth, but at what price? Her relationship with Nikko? Would he ever trust her again once he discovered what she’d done?

  Did she really want to do this? Was she prepared to accept the consequences of invading Nikko’s privacy? It felt dishonest and underhanded, but she was out of options. How many times had she tried to get him to open up and failed? No matter what she did, he just would not let her in. Was it because the past was too painful for him to discuss, or because he didn’t trust her love for him would be strong enough to see him through this tragedy? Either way, both obstacles were posing monumental roadblocks in their relationship, and she just couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t sit by and watch him suffer night after night, fighting these demons alone.

  She truly believed she could help him. If she didn’t, she never would have contacted Barry and asked him to obtain the file. She’d made a lot of sacrifices to get her hands on this and had put too much on the line to back out now. Taking a deep breath, Vi broke the seal on the envelope, pulled out the packet of papers, and began reading the contents.

  It was funny that she’d never once considered the possibility that she might not be able to handle the truth—that what she discovered in these pages about Nikko’s past would be an obstacle too great to overcome. But after reading the reports in the file and after discovering how deep his secrets ran, it broke her heart to realize she hadn’t really known Nikko Del Toro and that he’d been lying to her since the day he walked into her office.

  The following two hours were torturous. When Nikko got back to the table, Dean was chatting away with John Lake, the fight commissioner, like nothing had happened. Coach cut Nikko a questioning glance, but his eyes held more concern than accusation, neither of the guys putting voice to the questions that had to be rolling around in their heads. Dean’s attempt to distract Lake appeared to be a success, and that told Nikko just how desperate he and Coach were for this fight to go down.

  Nikko was headlining, which meant there was a lot of money riding on his win. Throughout dinner, Nikko half listened as they discussed fight strategies and upcoming publicity events, but the truth of it was, he didn’t care; none of it really mattered. For the first time since coming back to the States, Nikko realized he loved something more than the cage, and if he didn’t fight for Violet, he was going to lose her.

  As soon as he could manage it, he cut out of there with the excuse of an early training session in the morning. The guys were several cocktails into their meeting, which was now turning more pleasure than business. There was no warm, welcoming glow of the porch light to greet Nikko as he pulled into Violet’s driveway. He cut the engine and climbed out of the car. It wasn’t a good sign.

  Anxiety warred with anger. She was no doubt upset over what had happened at Picasso’s, but what the hell did she expect? She could have at least told him she was having drinks with her ex—not that he would have taken the news much better. But sneaking off to meet with him felt like a betrayal he hadn’t thought Violet capable of. Why would she do it? Why would the woman, who professed to despise her ex, be meeting him at all, let alone behind Nikko’s back?

  Thinking about it brought his anger boiling back up to the surface all over again. His heart told him to trust her, while his past experience told him she was lying—question was, lying about what? She was keeping something from him, and if it wasn’t that she was rekindling her old flame, then what? He was sure as hell going to find out.

  Slamming the car door, he marched up to the house and grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. Shit. Muttering a curse, Nikko banged his fist against the solid oak panel. “Open the door, Violet.”

  When she didn’t answer, he swore again and fished the spare key out of the flowerpot, letting himself in. He pushed the door shut with his heel, took two steps that aligned him with the kitchen, and then stopped, his anger deflating like air from a balloon. She was sitting at the table, red-rimmed eyes staring up at him, her violet irises shimmering through tears. Her skin was unnaturally pale, except for her nose, which was red, no doubt from the tissue clenched tightly in her hand.

  He was fired up and prepared to demand she tell him what the hell she was doing with her ex at Picasso’s tonight, but the sight of her made his chest tighten, a
n invisible band squeezing the air out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered inside his chest, struggling for release from the panic gripping him.

  “Clover . . .” He took a step toward her, then stopped when she tensed and held up her hand. His gaze dropped to the table. A mess of papers littered the surface, but he couldn’t see what they were.

  “You lied to me.”

  The heartbreak in her eyes, the fragility in her voice, twisted the knife in his chest. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. “Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took another step closer and then she blasted him.

  “You’re married, Nikko! And you have a child! A child! How could you keep something like that from me? And don’t you dare deny it. It says it right here!” She snatched up a paper and held it in the air. “Celeste Del Toro, 8745 Conway Street, Laughlin, Nevada.”

  Nikko froze, the blood in his veins turning to ice, every cell in his body crystallizing, poised to shatter as he realized exactly what it was she held in her hand, and what those papers were scattered across the table.

  “What is that?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. He knew the answer without her confirming her betrayal. Rage tore through him like a hurricane. Before he realized he’d moved, Nikko was in her face. The only thing separating them was the table, covered with the evidence of her treachery. “Answer me, Violet!” He slammed his fist onto the table. The leaf snapped, dropping down and scattering his life at his feet like confetti. “Are those my military records?”

  She startled, big eyes growing impossibly wider with shock and not just a little fear. “Yes! All right? Yes! I called Barry. He has a friend at the Pentagon who got your records for me. I had to know, Nikko! I had to know what had happened to you because you won’t tell me, and I didn’t know any other way to help you!”

  “I don’t want your help, Violet! All I ever wanted was you! But you couldn’t give me that, now could you? Dammit, I trusted you!”

  “You didn’t trust me with anything! You wouldn’t even tell me you were married and that you have a daughter!”

  “Divorced! I’m divorced, Violet. Those records were sealed when I came home after getting blown to shit and found out my wife was fucking some other guy! Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t tell you about my past because you were my one shot at starting over? That I didn’t want to have to look at you and wonder what you were thinking? If you saw the same fucking failure I see in the mirror every day? But you’ve taken that from me now.”

  “I don’t think that, Nikko! I’d never think that! It wasn’t your fault, what happened to your recon team . . . You were under heavy fire and accidently gave air support the wrong coordinates. It was a mistake they were hit. It could have happened to anyone. I know the truth, and it doesn’t change anything!”

  “It changes everything!”

  “Don’t you see? It doesn’t have to. You don’t trust me to love the darkest parts of you. But what you don’t realize is that it’s those parts that make you who you are—the man I fell in love with.”

  If this wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words come from her mouth, he might have believed her. It was pity talking, nothing more. Once the shock wore off and she really thought about it, thought about the man she was letting into her bed every night—the man who failed to keep his wife satisfied, failed to keep his team alive . . . Give her time, and she would grow to despise him just as much as he despised himself.

  He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t wake up every morning and wonder if today was going to be the day she couldn’t take it anymore and left him. He’d rather walk away now than live the rest of his life waiting to have his heart ripped out. Violet may think she knew what had happened over there, but she didn’t really know. None of them knew . . .

  All this time, he’d deluded himself into believing he was getting better—that Violet could heal him, that she was his second chance at having a normal life. But it was all a lie. She was nothing more than a Band-Aid taped over the festering wound of his soul, and her betrayal had torn it wide open again. He was raw and bleeding. The battle-scarred side of his chest physically ached.

  Acting on pure survival instinct, he glared at Violet and growled, “You want to know what makes me sick? Thinking about what you had to do to get my records from that piece of shit. What did you promise him, huh? A good fuck for old times’ sake? Did I interrupt your payoff tonight? Is that it? Because that asshole isn’t giving you something for nothing. Is he coming over here later? Is that why you locked me out?”

  Shock filled her face, swiftly followed by rage, but he was too far gone to stop the venom spewing from his mouth. He knew he was hurting her, but he didn’t care. Nothing he said could come close to the pain of her betrayal.

  “Get out!”

  Her sharp response rang with an echo of finality. It stung more than he thought it would, though better it was happening now, under his terms, than a few months from now when she realized she couldn’t fix him. It doesn’t change anything, she’d said, but that was a lie, even if she didn’t want to believe it. She was still hanging on to the delusion that there was hope for him.

  “I mean it, Nikko. Get out!”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d said those words to him, but he vowed it would be the last.

  Vi stared at the door, unable to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She’d known Nikko would be mad if he found out she’d gotten his military files. Hell, she was mad. But the things he’d said, the hurtful things he’d accused her of . . . Never in her life had she felt so dirty, so degraded, and so dishonest. And what a damn hypocrite! He’d been lying to her all along about his past, about having a family, and he still had the nerve to stand there and say she betrayed him.

  Nikko was wrong about Barry. He wasn’t expecting her to have sex with him in exchange for the information in that file, and if Nikko believed, for one minute, that she would actually do something like that, then he didn’t really know her. Trust was the cornerstone of every relationship, and theirs had been built upon a foundation of lies. What was he planning on doing? Hiding his child from her forever as he lived this double life?

  It broke her heart to admit it, but it was obvious now that this would never work. Nikko would never trust her with his past, and now that she’d discovered the truth, he’d pushed her away just like he did everyone else in his life when they got too close.

  Not even his own mother or sister had any clue about what had happened to him in Afghanistan. Some people were just beyond reach, beyond help, and it broke her heart to realize Nikko Del Toro was one of them. She’d tried so hard to reach him, and, out of desperation, she’d crossed a line he deemed unforgivable—and just like that he’d thrown it all away.

  She’d even told him she loved him tonight. Despite all his lies and secrets, she’d given him the words she’d vowed she would never say to another man after Barry’s betrayal. She’d given Nikko her heart, and he’d thrown it back at her right before he walked out that door—the door she still couldn’t take her eyes off of. Surely, he’d come back, right? Wrong. How long had she been sitting there? An hour? Two? She’d lost track of time in her grief. It felt like eternity.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, and at first Vi wondered if she’d willed herself to hear something that wasn’t there, but a moment later it sounded again—louder. Her heart quickened, hope blooming inside her chest. Thank God he’d come back. She shouldn’t have kicked him out. Not when he was that angry. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, that she didn’t mean to hurt him or betray his trust. Somehow, she would make him understand she was just trying to help him.

  Vi went to the door and pulled it open, an apology on her lips. “Nikko, I’m sor—”

  “Hey, Vi.”

  Barry? What the hell was he doing here? Disappointment crashed over her, snuffing out the small flame of hope flickering inside her. “How did you find me?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. You’re n
ot unlisted, you know. Considering the clientele you’re servicing these days, that’s probably not a good idea.”

  She didn’t miss the snark in his voice. Her stomach twisted at the familiar warning. Hadn’t Nikko told her the same thing?

  “Can I come in?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  The little muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth, a tell she’d become familiar with over the years that indicated when he was annoyed. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to pop a cap.

  “Trust me, I think you’re going to want to be sitting down for what I have to say.”

  All cordiality left his voice, sending a prickle of alarm jolting through her. She didn’t consider him a threat, at least not physically, but mentally—emotionally—she knew he could be ruthless.

  Vi stepped aside and let him in, closing the door before leading him into the kitchen. It was probably not her best choice, since her table was now broken and there were papers scattered all over the floor, but she was not inviting him into a place as personal as her living room.

  “What happened here?”

  “Nothing,” she said, stooping to gather the papers. When she stood, she could feel Barry’s pale-blue eyes on her. “Sit down.” She motioned to the vacant chair and stacked the papers in her hands on top of the others before sliding them into the envelope.

  He took the seat but didn’t say anything, continuing to watch her. He was waiting for her to give him her undivided attention before speaking. Exhaling a sigh, she shoved her hair out of her face and met his watchful gaze.

  “I take it that didn’t go how you were expecting, huh?”

  “What do you want, Barry?” No way in hell was she discussing Nikko with him.

  “You. I want you back, Violet. I want things the way they were before.”

  “Before when? Before you were fucking your secretary or before you got caught?”

  “This is still a sore spot for you. I can see we’re going to have to work on that.”