Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3)

by Melynda Price

  Nikko held her so tight she could barely breathe, but oxygen was overrated. Her breath was already stolen from his soul-searing kiss. Something inside him had broken free. She felt the oppressive weight lift the moment his chains of bondage had severed. Her heart soared with joy as she returned his kiss, willing the love flooding through her to banish the darkness inside him.

  He responded with an impassioned, throaty growl, his tongue lashing out and tangling with hers as he swiftly rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the mattress. His solid weight was a comforting press against her chest. She could feel his heart battering against her breast.

  His hand shifted into her hair, his other slipping between her legs.

  “Feel how wet I am for you? My body doesn’t lie, Nikko. I love you so much . . .”

  He slipped his finger inside her, discovering for himself just how lost she was to him. He exhaled a sharp hiss through clenched teeth. His hard length bucked against her thigh, weeping with impatience to get inside her. Replacing his touch with the head of his shaft, he hesitated only long enough to catch her eyes. Holding her gaze, he took his time filling her, consuming her—drawing out each moment, each thrust, to perfection until she was writhing beneath him, begging for release.

  The pressure building inside her was exquisite, her glove gripping him tighter as the tension mounted, hurtling her toward the pinnacle of ecstasy. “Nikko . . .” His name was a breathy plea on her lips. So close . . . Just one more well-placed thrust and he sent her hurtling over the edge. “I love you,” she cried, shattering around him. Nikko joined her. The harsh bark of his release sent a hot blast against her core, intensifying her pleasure, drawing it out as they both rode the euphoric waves together.

  Reluctant to come down to reality from the orgasmic heights Nikko had taken her to, she snuggled deeper into his embrace and breathed a sigh of contentment, happy to just lie here with him, listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat against her ear. Several moments passed in languid silence before he spoke.

  “I still can’t believe that you do,” he whispered, this throat thick with emotion.

  She lifted her head to look at him, and her heart stuttered at the feeling blazing in his eyes.

  “I don’t deserve your love, Violet. But here you are, offering me something I thought I would never have—a second chance. I vow to spend my life trying to be a man you can be proud of—to be a man worthy of your love.”

  Words failed her, but tears did not. As they slipped down her cheek, Nikko reached up and gently brushed them away with his thumb.

  “I love you, Clover, always and forever.”

  Here, Gingersnap, let me grab that for you.”

  Nikko rushed into the kitchen and lifted the box of dishes from Ryann’s arms.

  “I’m pregnant, Nikko, I’m not an invalid,” she complained, but her big grin didn’t match her waspish tone.

  “I didn’t say you were,” he shot back, heading for the living room.

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “Call you what?” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Ryann was standing by the sink, her little baby bump accented by her hands posted on her hips. He held back the urge to laugh. If she could see herself right now, she wouldn’t be asking him that—her deep-red unruly curls barely contained by the ponytail she’d haphazardly pulled them into and her vibrant emerald eyes watching him, perceptive and intelligent. All that fire packed into a small frame. That woman was a sweetheart, but holy hell, did she have a temper when tested. He chuckled, shaking his head. Aiden definitely had his hands full with this one. He hoped they had a daughter just like her.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “I call you Gingersnap because you’re a redhead and you’re feisty. It’s a pun.”

  “Ahh . . .” She smiled. “I didn’t realize you were such a punny guy.”

  He winked and nodded, acknowledging her own pun. He turned to take the box out to the U-Haul when she stopped him again. “Hey, Nikko . . .”

  He stopped. “Yeah?”

  “I really like her—Violet. She’s super great.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. That seemed to happen whenever he thought of Clover. “Yeah, she is.”

  “I knew you’d find someone. I’m glad to see you happy. You deserve it.”

  “That’s what I keep hearing.”

  “Did she pass the test?”

  His brow arched. “What test?”

  “Does she like guacamole?”

  He chuckled and shook his head, remembering that day in the grocery store. Had it really only been seven months ago that she predicted he’d meet the woman of his dreams and she’d love guacamole? It felt like forever. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked.”

  “Hey, Violet,” Ryann called into the living room.

  “Yeah?”

  “You like guacamole?”

  “Are you kidding? I love guacamole!”

  Her light, airy voice carried into the kitchen, sending a ripple of pleasure shuddering through him. Even the sound of her voice made his heart warm, his pulse quicken . . .

  Ryann grinned, lowering her voice. “It’s official, Nikko. You have to marry that girl.”

  Yes, yes, he did, but not because she loved guacamole. He was absolutely crazy about her. Violet knew the deepest, darkest parts of him, and miraculously, it hadn’t changed the way she felt about him. In fact, his past only seemed to bind him more tightly to her.

  “Why do you ask?” Clover popped into the doorway and puffed a chunk of pale-blonde hair out of her eyes. “The baby hungry for Mexican tonight?”

  “Mexican sounds great,” Nikko said, bending down and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth before squeezing past her with his box.

  “Did I hear someone say Mexican?” Disco called from the door. He held it open for Nikko with his foot as he grabbed another box and followed him down the steps.

  “Sounds like the girls want Mexican for supper.”

  “I’m down with that,” Disco said. “It’s been nice having you guys here these last few days. Too bad you have to cut out tomorrow, but I’m sure Easton’s probably chompin’ at the bit to get you back. Your fight is in three days.”

  It was, but that wasn’t why they were leaving in the morning. He was having a hard enough time coming to terms with what he was about to do, and he wasn’t ready to explain it to Disco.

  “I appreciate all your help packing up Ryann’s house,” Aiden said. “It’s been nice having my sparring partner back. I’m looking forward to getting into the cage again. Missed your crotchety old ass. Though, I gotta say, you don’t seem so pissy these days. That girl’s been good for you.” Aiden set his box on the edge of the trailer before hopping in. “You gonna keep her?” He took Nikko’s box and carried it into the back.

  “I think the better question is will she keep me, but, yeah, I’m fucking in love with her, man. Best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s like my life didn’t really begin until I met Ryann. She’s my whole world. I don’t know what I’d do without her. When I think of how close I came to losing her that night . . . If you wouldn’t have been there to save her—”

  “You can’t think about that shit, man. Can’t let your mind go there, or you won’t ever be able to pull it out. Once you let that kind of fear and guilt get ahold of you . . .”

  “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Aiden grabbed the other box and stacked it in the back.

  “I just know demons. And you don’t want to let that one in. Ryann and the baby are safe. Moralli is dead. Cut your ties and get the hell out of New York. Come back to your family—your MMA family.”

  Aiden nodded his acquiescence and hopped out of the trailer. “That’s the plan.”

  “Nervous?”

  Nikko was having a wicked case of déjà vu. His hand gripped the armrest as he sat there stiffly. His eyes were closed, head resting against the back of his seat a
s the turbine engines roared to life and the 747 began to taxi down the runway. Inhale, exhale . . . Inhale, exhale . . .

  He was channeling all thoughts on his next breath and trying to block out the rich vapors of jet fuel burning his nose, the all-too-familiar scent threatening to unlock the floodgates of his mind. One would think that, as close to death as he’d been when they’d loaded him into the chopper and medivaced him to Ramstein, he wouldn’t remember shit. Not so. It all came rushing back in wave after unrelenting wave—the recoil of pulling that trigger, the crimson explosion that followed, littering the sand with brains and skull fragments—the burn in his lungs as he ran to catch up with his team and clear the blast zone, only to be caught in an explosion that decimated his team and should have killed him, too.

  Like a drowning man caught in the tide of the surf, he struggled to swim toward the shore of sanity. Since that night with Violet, those old feelings were further from the surface now, but still there. Would they ever fully disappear?

  It wasn’t the physical agony that tormented him, though there had been plenty of that as well. It was the guilt, the shame, the failure . . . But Nikko clung to the hope that someday he’d be able to step on a plane without his past rushing back to greet him.

  He cracked open an eye to look at the woman sitting beside him, staring up at him. He gave her an arched-brow glance in response to her question.

  “Well, at least I’m not crying this time,” she joked, nudging him in the shoulder. He knew what she was doing, trying to tease some of the tension out of him. Bless her heart for trying, but some wounds took longer than others to heal, and this one was going to take some time. She laid her small hand over his as the Boeing began to pick up speed. “You sure you want to do this now?”

  No. No, he didn’t want to do this now, but it was now or never. He’d been living with this guilt, this shame, long enough. Violet was right, Remmy’s parents deserved to know the truth. They deserved to hear him tell them thank you for their son’s service—his sacrifice. Nikko planned to visit Remmy’s grave while they were in Seattle, and hopefully he would finally put his friend’s memory to rest. Then, and only then, could he look forward to a future with Violet—a future where the demons of his past no longer haunted him.

  “We can wait until after the fight and drive up. It’s only a few more days.”

  They were speeding down the runway. It was too late to turn back, even if he wanted to, but he avoided pointing that out. “It has to be now. I’ve waited too long as it is.”

  “All right,” she said, giving Nikko one of those I’m so proud of you smiles that made him feel like he was the king of the world—well, the king of her world, anyway.

  The plane swept into the air, dropping Nikko’s stomach into his feet. As the aircraft leveled out, Violet pried his fingers from the armrest and slipped hers between his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “From now on, you hang on to me,” she told him.

  God, he loved this woman. Violet, she was his life preserver in his sea of mental chaos—all he had to do was reach out and take hold of her. Every time he thought about how close he’d come to losing her, how close he’d come to letting his past destroy his future, his heart beat faster with trepidation. Yeah, that advice he’d given Disco about fear had been for him as much as it had been for Kruze. But that was over now. The nightmares hadn’t returned since he’d told Violet the truth, confessing secrets he’d lived with for far too long.

  He didn’t expect Remmy’s parents to forgive him, but he knew the first step in forgiving himself was facing the truth. Nothing could bring their son back, he knew that. But maybe it would soften their grief to know their son had died a hero. Violet was right, Nikko was alive because of the sacrifice Remmy had made. No one had asked Rem to charge that sniper’s shell that day. He had known the risk he was taking and had done it to save his team. Remmy would be pissed to know Nikko was wasting the life he’d died to give him, wallowing in self-loathing and hatred. Nikko had one life to live, and he wouldn’t waste another day of it living in regret.

  “You know,” he said, giving Clover a lopsided grin. “The last time I was on one of these planes, sitting beside a gorgeous blonde, she propositioned me for sex.”

  Her eyes grew wide with mock surprise, her mouth dropping open. “She did not. I don’t believe you!”

  He nodded his head, matter of fact. “She did. True story.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What do you think I did? She was hotter than hell. I dragged her into the first-class bathroom and fucked her.”

  Clover laughed, the light, airy burst that sent his cock shooting up hard as stone.

  “I can’t believe it . . .” Her eyes danced with teasing light.

  He studied her a minute, wondering how God had seen fit to bless him with such a gift after all the horrible things he’d done. She was his angel, sent from Heaven to save him from himself.

  “What kind of a woman does something like that?” she asked, sounding positively scandalized.

  Brushing his thumb over her knuckles, he gave her hand a little squeeze and said, “My woman . . .”

  Six Months Later

  Christmas Eve in the Del Toro home was a grand celebration full of laughter and the excited giggling of children. The scent of pine filled the living room, competing with the spicy aromas wafting from the kitchen. Presents spilled from beneath a glowing white pine, its limbs heavy with ornaments. Joy clung to the air, which was thick with anticipation. Not even Nikko was immune to the excitement. His smiles were carefree these days. Deep, throaty laughter rang out through the room as Amelia and Addy crawled over him like a human jungle gym. Val tried in vain to control her little monkeys but eventually gave up and poured herself another glass of spiked eggnog before settling in beside Violet and Raven.

  “I tried,” she said, shaking her head in defeat. “But he keeps egging them on.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Violet said, taking a sip of her eggnog, the vodka warming her stomach. “He loves it.”

  Raven watched the trio roughhousing in the middle of the living room, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes touched her beautiful face. Those silvery orbs were so much like her father’s—deep, intelligent, and pensive. They especially concealed thoughts not readily spoken, but Violet could guess the direction her mind had taken her. She was seeing herself in Amelia and Addy, thinking of the years she’d been deprived of her father, first by war, then by an overbearing mother who used her as a tool to manipulate and control her dad. Was she feeling the sting of time? A beautiful young girl on the cusp of womanhood, wishing she, too, could be that young again so she could romp and play with her father.

  Violet reached over and took Raven’s hand, giving it a loving squeeze. “I’m so glad you could be here with us today,” she whispered. “You know your father loves you very much.” So much, in fact, that earlier this week Nikko had sat Violet down and told her he’d decided to pursue full custody of Raven. It was what Raven wanted, too. When he’d asked her what she would like for Christmas, she’d told Nikko she wanted to come live with him and Violet. Vi fully supported his decision. After discussing it, they decided it’d be best to wait until after the holidays to tell Raven, because there would undoubtedly be one hell of a custody battle in their future—one Violet had no doubt Nikko would win. She’d been through enough of them in New York to know the court system generally sided with the children’s preference once they reached Raven’s age, and Nikko’s service to his country would carry a lot of weight.

  He’d briefly considered buying Celeste off to spare Raven the stress of a custody battle. His ex had named her price so fast when Nikko had gone to her to discuss his desire for full custody of Raven, Vi wondered if that hadn’t been the woman’s end game all along. That the hateful shrew could so quickly put a price tag on her daughter in exchange for signing over custody papers only validated that Nikko was doing the right thing by getting Raven away from that woman and into a stab
le, loving environment. But it pissed Nikko off so much, he decided then and there the woman wasn’t going to see another cent from him. Instead, he put that money into a college fund for Raven and lawyered up. Turns out Nikko’s attorney just happened to be his best friend and sparring partner, not to mention one of the best damn lawyers in Manhattan. Fortunately for them, Las Vegas was a reciprocity state.

  Raven turned her sapphire-flecked gaze on Violet, and her smile morphed into a genuine grin. “I know he does. Dad’s great.”

  They both turned their attention back to the man raising his arms in the air, a squealing child dangling off each one. Lord, she loved this man so much it hurt. These past months with him had been nothing short of amazing. To see him now, it was hard to believe this was the same surly fighter who’d walked into her office seven months ago, broken and tortured. But ever since stepping off that plane after returning from Seattle, Nikko was a different man. As he’d knelt before Remmy’s grave that day, grief and loss had poured out of him like nothing she’d ever seen. And when he finally stood, it was as if he’d decidedly chosen to bury the past along with his beloved friend.

  She knew firsthand how hard it had been for him to face Remmy’s parents. But they had welcomed Nikko with open arms, and there had been no anger or judgment in their tear-filled eyes as Nikko sat beside them on the couch and told them the truth of what had happened that day. They hugged him and thanked him for his service and for being such a loyal friend to Remington. It was a turning point of healing for Nikko, as well as Remmy’s parents. She was proud of him for facing his past and fighting for their future.