Book Read Free

Grappling for Position (Against the Cage Book 4)

Page 26

by Melynda Price


  “Are you going to sign with Marcus?” she asked, grabbing a scrub brush off the shelf and one of the clean towels out of the dryer. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the addition of Grim to their ranks. He was certainly charming, in an arrogant badass sort of way. Not that her opinion mattered one way or the other. In two years, she would graduate and would be working somewhere else. Cleaning this gym would become someone else’s responsibility.

  “Thinking about it. It’s not quite that simple. I’ve got some issues with my manager.”

  She’d heard. So, there might be some bit of truth to the tabloids, after all. Willow cut the water and swiveled the faucet to the side. “What kind of issues?” She doubted he’d tell her, but was still curious enough to ask.

  “The I-fired-him kind. He’s not happy about his cash cow moving to greener pastures, so now the lawyers are involved.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t, but that’s all right.” Blunt, direct, but not quite rude. “I know what people are saying. I read the magazines.”

  Willow was a pretty good judge of character, and her first impressions were usually spot-on, but this wasn’t the first time she’d been around Grim, and she still couldn’t decide if she liked the guy or not. Something about him didn’t quite settle right. Grim was a dangerous man, that was no question, but she’d grown up in a gym full of fighters, and none of these guys made her as uneasy as he did.

  She’d reached for the handle to lift the bucket out of the utility sink when she felt a wall of hard, hot muscle pressed against her back. She tensed at the contact, but before she could tell Grim to step back, he grabbed the bucket and moved away. Maybe he was just being nice; maybe it was more . . . It was hard to tell. A lot of guys like Grim weren’t used to respecting women’s boundaries, mostly because the women that hung around these fighters had none.

  “So, you’re Kill’s baby sister, huh?” He carried the bucket to the door and held it open for her to pass through.

  “You don’t need to do that. I can carry my own bucket. It’s kinda my job.”

  Grim’s brow arched in surprise. “You work here?”

  “Yeah, what’d you think I was doing in the laundry room?”

  “I wasn’t thinking about it. I was too busy enjoying the view.”

  There was that wolf’s grin again, and she was sure it had melted plenty of panties in the past. If she wasn’t madly in love with Regan, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so immune. When she felt his gaze settle on her ass again, Willow abruptly stopped and spun on him. “Look, Grim—”

  “August.”

  “What?”

  “That’s my name. You can call me August.”

  “You’re ‘The Grim Reaper’.” Was that amusement flickering in those kaleidoscopes? His top lips twitched. Was he toying with her? Yes . . . yes, he was. “Everybody calls you Grim,” she grumbled, turning and heading back down the hall.

  “Not everybody.”

  She stopped short again. He must have been closer than she realized because water sloshed in the bucket right behind her. “All right then, you can call me Princess Consuela Banana Hammock.” She wondered if he’d even get the Friends reference. Feet back in motion, she hadn’t taken more than two steps when she heard the deep bark of laughter ring out behind her. “The Grim Reaper” actually laughed?

  “I suppose that means you’re going to start calling me Crap Bag?”

  He did get it. So, the big burly fighter was a Friends fan. Who knew? “Exactly.”

  His chuckle followed her all the way to the cage. It abruptly stopped when a startled gasp ripped from her throat. The scrub brush fell from her hand as she took a stumbling step back, crashing right into Grim. Her eyes stung with the tell-tale prickle of impending tears, and Grim’s large hands engulfed her shoulders to steady her.

  “Easy, Princess.” His husky voice rumbled too close to her ear.

  Great, now he’d nicknamed her.

  “I never took you as the squeamish sort. It’s just a little blood.”

  It wasn’t a little blood. It was a lot of blood—Regan’s blood. Stepping away from him, she turned to face the fighter towering over her. “Regan and I are together.” It felt good to finally say it out loud.

  Realization dawned in his eyes, and maybe a flicker of disappointment, as well. “And Kill didn’t know . . .”

  Score one for Grim. Not all brawn and no brains for this guy. He was a quick one.

  “That’s why this turned so nasty.” He nodded at the bloody cage behind her. “And now you’ve got to clean up the mess. Literally.”

  Willow’s stomach pitched. There was a good chance she was going to be sick.

  Maybe she was turning a little green because something that looked a lot like sympathy flashed in Grim’s handsome face. “It’s all right, Princess. I got this. Go get some fresh air.”

  Seriously? Was the CFA heavyweight champion offering to scrub a bloody cage for her? A part of her so badly wanted to let him do it, but she couldn’t. Not only would Dean probably fire her if he came out here and found one of his fighters doing her job, but this was her mess, in every way, and it was her responsibility to clean it up. “Thanks, but I can’t let you do that, Crap Bag.” She threw out his new nickname to lighten the mood and put on a brave front, because that was the only way he was going to back down and let her do this. “I’m fine.”

  He studied her a moment, not looking any more convinced than she felt, and he might have insisted on helping her if Dean hadn’t shouted across the gym, “Grim, good, you’re still here. You got a few minutes?”

  He glanced at the CFA president, then back at her.

  “Go. I’m fine, really.” She wasn’t and he knew it, but there wasn’t anything he could do to help her. As she watched the fighter walk away, she decided he might be an all right guy, after all.

  Willow hauled the bucket of soapy water up the steps of the cage and set it amid the carnage. Kneeling on the mat, she began scrubbing away Kyle’s wrath, all the while struggling to hold back tears as the doubts assaulted her. Should they have told Kyle sooner? Should they have told him at all? Was this all a terrible mistake?

  But then she thought of the past few months they’d been together and the deep bond she and Regan had forged as lovers and friends, and she couldn’t find it in herself to regret a single minute of it. She loved Regan with all her heart and knew, without a doubt, that he felt the same way about her. Unfortunately, the evidence of that love was all over the mat right now. Regan had chosen her over Kyle, and it broke her heart that he’d had to make that sacrifice—especially now.

  Willow’s phone vibrated in her pocket, sending her heart hammering inside her chest. Scrambling to her feet, she dried her wet hands on her jeans and retrieved her phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey . . .”

  At the sound of Regan’s voice, she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Regan, are you okay? I tried to call you.”

  “I know. I couldn’t take the call. Sorry.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked again, starting to pace the cage, restless energy thrumming through her veins.

  “I’m fine. It’s just a couple of stitches. No big deal.”

  “You should have called me.”

  “You were in class. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “What happened? How did it go?”

  “About as well as I expected.”

  “What about Kyle? Dean said he went to the hospital.”

  “I think they’re checking out his knee. How are you doing? You’re at work right now?”

  “Yeah, I’m scrubbing the cage.”

  Regan cursed. “I’m sorry you have to do that. I’d come in and take care of it, but Dean banned us from the gym.”

  “I heard. One month. You’re better off not pushing your luck. He’s pissed. I’m almost done, anyway. I’m going to go home when I’m finished here and talk to Kyle.”

  “You want
me to come with you?”

  “No, that’s all right. I need to face him by myself.”

  “Call me if you change your mind.”

  “I will. Hey, Regan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell me we did the right thing.”

  “We did the right thing, Willow. He needed to know, and I’m tired of sneaking around.”

  “Me too.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too. I’ll call you later.”

  She disconnected the call with a heavy heart. Hearing the fatigue and stress in Regan’s voice made her chest ache with helplessness. She glanced at the clock, checking to see how much time she had left before her shift ended. It was going to be a long couple of hours.

  Chapter 30

  The house was silent when Willow entered, but the aggression saturating the air was palpable. She left her purse by the door and kicked off her shoes. Taking a deep breath and rallying her courage, she went in search of Kyle. When she didn’t find him in the living room, she headed for the kitchen. She came to an abrupt stop when she found him sitting there at the table, left leg up on a chair and a bag of frozen peas balanced on his knee. His elbows were propped on the table, with his head in his hands.

  “Kyle?” He didn’t move. He wouldn’t even look at her when she walked in. Her pulse spiked with dread. There was Kyle mad, and then there was Kyle furious—she’d seen him in both extremes—but never in her life had he been so upset he refused to even acknowledge her.

  “Kyle, talk to me.” Willow came forward and took the seat opposite him. No movement—no response—nothing. “You’re starting to scare me,” she whispered, fidgeting with her hands.

  His head snapped up, and eyes the color of a tornadic storm stared back at her. The words that left his mouth broke her heart. As long as she lived, she would never forget them—never forget the sound of disappointment in his voice or the look of utter betrayal in his eyes.

  “You lied to me.”

  There was no point in trying to deny it. And for the first time, she found herself wishing she’d listened to Regan and told Kyle right away. If they had, would he have forgiven them? By the looks of Kyle right now, the time for forgiveness, or understanding, had long passed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You fucking lied to me!”

  His fist hammered onto the table and she jumped.

  “The two people I love more than anyone in this entire world have been lying to me for two fucking months!”

  “Would you have let me see him if I’d been honest with you from the beginning?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Now that pissed her off. He was being unreasonable—irrational. “And yet you sit here looking surprised that I didn’t tell you.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Willow. He might have been my best friend, but he is nowhere near good enough for you!”

  The best friend past tense wasn’t lost on her, and she prayed it was his anger speaking right now and not the truth. “You’re right. But you don’t know him like I do.”

  “I’ve partied with the guy while he was getting his dick sucked by some cage-banger on the couch right next to me. I’d say I know him pretty fucking well.”

  The imagery he was putting in her mind made Willow’s stomach roll. She’d had to make the conscious decision long ago not to hold Regan’s past against him, but that didn’t mean she wanted a play-by-play recitation of all the sordid details. “I don’t want to hear about this, Kyle. You’re just being mean.”

  “I’m just being real. You think I’m making this shit up? You deserve better, Willow.”

  Restless energy coursed through her veins, and she stood to pace the kitchen. “I deserve better than someone who loves me? Who treats me better than I could possibly imagine? Who loves this family and has been a part of it for as long as I can remember?” she shot back, digging her heels into what she knew was going to be one hell of a fight.

  Kyle jumped to his feet with the speed of the formidable fighter he was, and cut her off mid-stride. “You deserve better than a whoring MMA fighter that loves his booze almost as much as he loves pussy!”

  Her hand whipped out, and she’d slapped him across the face before she even realized she’d lifted her arm. “That isn’t Regan anymore, Kyle. That’s you! Why can’t you be happy for me? He’s your best friend—”

  “Not anymore he isn’t. A friend doesn’t go behind a friend’s back and fuck his little sister! You know what? I’m looking forward to getting into the octagon with that bastard now. Then I can beat the shit out of him without going to jail!”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. And I don’t want you seeing him anymore, Willow. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you at that fucking gym anymore!”

  “You want me to quit my job?” She was absolutely dumbfounded at the extreme he was taking this. She’d known it was going to be bad, but this was ridiculous. “Kyle, whether you want to accept it or not, I am an adult. I am free to make my own decisions. I can work where I want, and I can see whomever I want!”

  “Not as long as you’re living under this roof.”

  It was a threat thrown out in the heat of the moment, and by the flash of regret in his eyes, it was one she knew he wished he could take back, but dammit if he wasn’t too stubborn to do it. The hit of those words dealt was a damaging blow. Now that the gauntlet had been thrown, she had to act. It was the only way she’d ever gain her independence and his respect. If she didn’t take a stand now, she would forever be under Kyle’s control—his helpless little sister.

  As much as she loved him, as much as she appreciated everything he’d sacrificed for her, she couldn’t continue to let him control her out of guilt. It wasn’t healthy for either one of them. He had to let go and start living his own life, free of the burden and responsibility of raising her. And she needed to start living her own life—a life she hoped to share with Regan.

  Willow didn’t want to hurt Kyle, but they were both past that point now. Words had been said, wounds created that were raw, open, and bleeding. If he’d only learned to let her go in stages, maybe she wouldn’t be tearing herself out of his life right now. “Then I guess I’ll no longer be living under this roof. I’ll give Dean my resignation in the morning.” She stepped past him and headed to her room to go pack.

  “Goddammit, Willow . . .”

  She could hear the regret in his voice, the unevenness of his steps as he limped after her, but she had to keep moving. As hard as this was, if she stopped now, she would never gain her own independence—she could see that now. Without a doubt, this was going to hurt like hell, and she felt horrible for doing this to him, but he’d pushed her too far, and she could not, would not, give up Regan for him. She had to believe that once he was forced to let her go, once he saw how happy she was, that he could be happy for her someday.

  Willow closed the bedroom door and grabbed the duffle bag from her closet. Setting it on the bed, she began filling it with clothes, packing enough things for a few days, then grabbing her school books from the desk. She was quickly losing the battle against her tears, and if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions soon, she was going to lose it. She’d thought she’d been prepared for Kyle’s anger, but she’d never expected him to play the If you’re going to live in this house card.

  Swiping away the escaped moisture, Willow zipped her bag closed and slung the strap over her shoulder. When she yanked the door open, it was to find Kyle filling the doorway, arms braced against the top trim, shouldering his weight, while the remainder was braced on his uninjured leg. The grief in his eyes sent a sharp arrow of guilt piercing her heart. This was her fault. She’d hurt one of the two people she loved most in this world, and though it hadn’t been intentional, the circumstances of their tragedy and the uniqueness of their situation made this moment painfully inevitable.

  “Excuse me,” she mumbled softly, stepping forward to squeeze past him.


  “Come on, Willow.” Kyle caught her arm in a gentle grip, pulling her to a stop in the hall. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  It was the closest she’d get to an apology. But as much as she might want to recant, as much as her next steps might scare her, she had to be allowed to grow up, and this was the only way it was going to happen. She needed to be free to love whomever she chose, and she prayed that one day Kyle would see that. If she stayed right now, she knew in her heart that nothing would change and she’d lose the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

  Forcing one foot in front of the other, she headed for the door. Stopping with her hand on the knob, she looked over her shoulder at her brother, who’d followed her to the entryway. “You know what, Kyle? I get that we should have told you right away, and Regan wanted to. He did, but I wouldn’t let him. You can’t blame him for that because he was just respecting my wishes. For lying to you, I’m heartbroken and very sorry. But I can’t, I won’t, apologize for loving Regan. He’s so good to me, and if you want to know the truth, I’ve loved him ever since I was a little girl. Mom knew it, and she was okay with it, so in all fairness, I don’t see how you can’t be.”

  “I told you why.”

  “And I’ve told you he’s changed.”

  Kyle shook his head. “He’s not good enough for you.”

  “No one will ever be good enough in your eyes, and for that, I love you and I hate you.” Willow didn’t give him time to respond before walking out the door. There wasn’t anything left to say.

  Willow knocked on Regan’s door, then reached up to dry her cheeks, sliding her fingers beneath her eyes to remove the smeared makeup while she waited for him to answer. She must look like a mess. Her eyes felt puffy, her nose was running, and she was constantly sniffling. She’d had to pull over twice on the way because she was crying so hard. Her heart ached with regret, and she was angry with Kyle for being so stubborn. She’d honestly thought there was a chance he would listen to her, that he might at least try to understand.

 

‹ Prev