“Ryann and I are none of your business, nor are my sexual appetites. I might fight for you, but what I do with my personal time is no concern of yours.”
Moralli’s answering chuckle grated on his nerves, making him wish he could reach through the phone and choke the life out of the son of a bitch. “Aiden, do you know what I prize above all things?”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me . . . He closed his eyes, trying to summon his nonexistent patience. “Is this going to take long? Because I got—”
“Loyalty.”
“What?”
“The thing I prize above all else. Don’t make me test yours, Aiden. You won’t like it very much.”
With that warning, the line went dead.
“Does this feel too firm to you?”
Nikko’s brow arched in question. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, you’re not going to know unless you touch it.”
“I don’t want to touch it.”
“Oh, come on, Nikko, quit being so stubborn. Just squeeze it.”
“I don’t even know what I’m feeling for.”
“It should be soft with just a little firmness.”
Nikko defiantly crossed his arms, putting a lot of intimidating muscle on display. She smiled sweetly, trying not to laugh at the sight he made. He was all scowl and brawn, pushing a shopping cart through the produce aisle, arguing with Ryann about avocados.
She was nervous about her meeting with Henry tonight and had decided to channel that restless energy into productivity. Aiden’s cupboards could use a good stocking. Nikko had insisted on tagging along—again—and if he was going to pretend he wanted to be here shopping, she was going to make sure he got the full grocery experience, complete with fruit squeezing and all.
“Listen, I am thirty years old, and I have gone my entire life not knowing a thing about avocados. And you know what? I’m all right with that.”
“You never know . . .” she teased, deriving sadistic pleasure in torturing the tough-as-nails MMA fighter who looked hilariously out of place partaking in such a domestic chore. “What if you meet a girl who loves guacamole?”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
“What won’t happen? That you’re not going to meet that special someone or that she won’t love guacamole?”
“Both.”
“Why not?”
“New topic.”
“Oh, come on, Nikko. Are you seriously trying to tell me there’s no one special in your life?”
“Look, Ryann.”
It wasn’t by mistake that he used her given name. He was getting pissed. He leveled her with a defensive scowl, but that look had lost its effect after nearly being joined at the hip for the last few days. A coincidence? She thought not, but Nikko always had more than enough excuses why he wanted or needed to accompany her.
“You hardly know me well enough to be having this conversation.”
“On the contrary.” She poked him in the chest with her avocado. “I’d be willing to bet that I know you better than just about anyone, except maybe Aiden.”
Those silvery-gray eyes stared her down, but she was immune to his intimidation. “I know you act like a hardass, but deep down you’re really a sweet guy. You keep your demons closely guarded, but I suspect they torture you more than you let on. You don’t like to let people in because you don’t want to care about them and you don’t want them to care about you. You like your life simple, and the more people in it, the more complicated it becomes, so you work hard to shut people out whenever you can. You hate to talk about yourself, you’re rigidly disciplined and extremely intelligent. Oh, and you never leave the toilet seat up, which I very much appreciate, by the way.”
He stood there a moment staring at her, the expression on his face giving nothing away. She could be right or way out in left field for all he let on. But she knew she wasn’t wrong. There weren’t a lot of guys that would put their life on hold to help a friend. No, Nikko gave 100 percent to the few people he did care about.
“You finished with your assessment there, Dr. Phil?”
“I think so,” she said, feeling rather pleased with herself.
“Good, then hurry up and finish your shopping. And for the record, I’m not a hero, Ryann. So don’t go making me into something I’m not.”
“Would you take a bullet for me, Nikko?” It was a hypothetical question, but Ryann was determined to make her point.
“Of course I would.” His response was immediate and without hesitation. Nikko was serious. Huh . . . well there’s a twist.
“Well then, that makes you my hero, and that is what qualifies me to ask you about your personal life.”
“I’d rather squeeze your avocado,” he grumbled.
Ryann laughed and tapped him with the fruit again. “I bet you would.” She turned then and piled four dark green fruits into the cart before continuing down the produce aisle. Nikko followed behind her, his surly scowl drawing wary looks from the other shoppers around them—except from the one coming from a twenty-something brunette who was actually quite attractive.
“Ooo . . . Nikko,” Ryann whispered, nudging him with her elbow. “What about that one over there?” Ryann nodded toward the woman across the aisle, sorting through pineapples. She’d seen the woman’s gaze dart to Nikko a couple of times as they’d rounded the produce department.
“What about her?” he grumbled.
Seriously? The man seemed completely impervious to the woman’s beauty or her subtle interest. “Is she your type?” she prodded, elbowing him in the ribs.
Nikko’s scowl darkened another degree. “Does she look like she’s my type?” he grouched, growing crankier by the second.
Ryann stopped in between the leafy greens and the tomatoes and turned toward him, her hands posted on her hips. “You say that like there’s something wrong with you.”
He looked at her as if she’d lost her ever-loving mind—and maybe she had, because this conversation was just about as safe as poking a giant bear with a stick. Why she felt the sudden urge to play matchmaker was beyond her. Maybe she felt bad for him. She could sense his loneliness despite his adamant insistence he wanted to be that way. It was just that she loved Aiden so much, and since meeting him, her life had been complete in a way she never could have expected. He filled a void in her heart she hadn’t even known existed. And she wanted that kind of happiness for Nikko, too.
“That’s because there is something wrong with me. And I’m not just talking about the damage on the outside.”
She winced when he pointed at his face. It was a handsome face, even with the scars. In fact, some women might claim they made him more attractive. In all honesty, she hardly noticed the marks anymore.
“Now let it go, dammit!” Plucking her list from her hand, he brushed past her and began grabbing food off the shelves.
“Nikko . . .” She followed after him with the cart. He only acknowledged her long enough to dump the load into the basket before heading down another aisle to power-shop. “Nikko, stop . . .”
By the time she caught back up with him, his arms were full again and he added the groceries to her cart. “No, Ryann, you need to stop. You do not get to be in my head. I’m not here to make friends and I sure as hell am not here to find love. And speaking of, let’s talk about you and Disco, cuz I did not see that shit coming. At. All. Do you have any idea how into you that guy is? And Disco doesn’t do long-term. Yet, he’s doing you. Every. Damn. Night.”
Whoa . . . wait a minute. Where was this coming from? “Okay, Nikko.” Ryann held up her hands in surrender. “Maybe we should just . . . not talk about this.”
“What’s the matter, Gingersnap? Don’t like me digging into your personal life? Then stay the hell out of mine!”
Oh, wow . . . Ouch.
&nbs
p; Nikko didn’t speak to her for the rest of the drive home. Ryann deeply regretted disturbing the peaceful camaraderie they’d slipped into over the past several days and felt embarrassed she might have mistaken it for friendship—which Nikko had made glaringly clear it was not. Maybe he was right and she had no business prying into his personal life, but she cared about him and considered him a friend, even if he didn’t return the sentiment. She only wanted to help. Instead, she ended up opening what she feared were some old, painful wounds. And she wasn’t sure what, if anything, she could do to make it better.
Maybe she’d talk to Aiden about it on the drive to O’Lunney’s this evening. On second thought, perhaps she shouldn’t mention it. Aiden didn’t need to mediate her and Nikko’s squabbles. He had enough on his plate as it was, working at the firm, searching for evidence that would help wrap up this case—and with another fight looming at the end of the week . . . No, she wouldn’t say anything. Lesson learned. Personal conversations with Nikko Del Toro were off limits.
The moment they got back to the penthouse, they retreated to their respective corners. Nikko headed to the gym and she retreated to the office to research the next fighter on Aiden’s roster. The moment Aiden returned, Nikko was out the door. He’d planned to arrive at O’Lunney’s early to check the place out and get into position just in case this thing with Henry blew up in her face. Ryann suspected he would have left anyway, and she’d have been lying if she’d said that didn’t hurt.
“Hey, baby, whatcha doing?” Aiden came up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he gave her a much-needed hug. A wistful smile touched her lips as his warmth enveloped her.
“Researching Patrick Davis.”
“Who’s Patrick Davis?” he mumbled, kissing her neck.
Her pulse quickened at his touch, sending little shivers all the way to her toes. “The man you’re fighting this week.” He stood, and she turned her chair around to face him. Reaching up, she unfastened his suit jacket. “How was your day?” she asked, making small talk as she tugged his shirt loose from his pants and began undoing the buttons from the bottom up.
His brow arched in question. “Shitty. Thanks for asking. But something tells me it’s about to get a lot better.”
Ryann laughed, giving him a flirty grin as her hands dropped to his belt. She unbuckled the latch, slowly pulling it through the loops. “I think you might be right.” When she released the button of his pants, he exhaled a tortured groan and scooped her into his arms.
“I missed you today,” he growled, carrying her toward his bedroom.
She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed his throat, nipping at the flesh covering his pounding pulse. “Me, too . . .”
Her feet touched the floor beside the bed. Aiden dipped his head, capturing her mouth in a scorching kiss as he hastily uncuffed his sleeves and yanked off his jacket and shirt.
Ryann broke contact long enough to tug her shirt over her head. Aiden dragged his mouth along her jaw, and she tipped her head to the side, giving him access to her neck as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, then tossed it to the side. “Any word from the DA?”
He tensed, his kisses momentarily pausing on her throat before resuming a path toward her cleavage. “Nothing yet,” he mumbled, cupping her breasts and taking a hardened bud into his mouth. After a long sucking pull that sent a tingling current of pleasure right into her core, he whispered, “Soon, I hope,” and moved to her other breast.
Heat flooded her body as it responded to the man that could so masterfully command her pleasure. An impatient whimper caught in her throat as her desperation for him swiftly mounted. Her heart hammered inside her chest, her breath sawed from her lungs that were working to meet her body’s demand for oxygen. Aiden was her safe haven, her shelter in the storm of life, and right now all she wanted, all she needed, was to be anchored to him.
Aiden must have sensed her urgency, must have recognized her desperation for what it was, or just maybe he felt that way, too, because he wasted no time stripping them both and lowering her to the bed. When she felt the scorching heat of his shaft slip between her slick intimate folds and fill her aching channel, she tipped her hips, taking him deeper.
“Yes . . .” she moaned. “Aiden, I love you.”
Aiden stilled above. The confession had slipped so easily from her lips. It was the first time she’d told him how she felt since the catastrophe in the car. When he didn’t respond, a surge of uncertainty needled up her spine and she opened her eyes, surprised to see a dark amber blaze of emotion staring back at her.
“I love you, too, Ryann. And I want you to know nothing is ever going to change that.”
It was a vow spoken between them and consecrated through the most intimate of acts, and one that in the coming days would be put to the test of fire.
CHAPTER
37
Sweetheart, I don’t think Henry is coming. He’s almost an hour late.”
Ryann glanced over her shoulder to the vacant area near the front door. As she scanned the bar, her gaze briefly connected with Nikko’s before breaking away to continue her search, though it was a fruitless endeavor. She had no idea how to identify Henry. In their correspondence, he said he would find her, which meant he knew what she looked like. It was a disadvantage that made her increasingly wary as the time passed with no arrival of the mysterious man. For all she knew, he could be here watching her right now. Perhaps this was nothing more than a clever trick to get her out in the open.
“I think we should leave.” Aiden reached across the table and rested his hand over hers, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. She nodded, struggling to disguise her disappointment. This was her last hope, her last connection to her father, and it’d been nothing but a cruel ruse. Aiden made a subtle hand gesture, signaling to Nikko they were going to leave. He stood and pulled his wallet from his pocket, tossing some cash onto the table. Taking her hand, he helped her slide out of the booth and guided her to the door. Nikko remained several paces behind them as they headed down the street toward the parking lot.
“I’m sorry he didn’t show,” Aiden offered.
“Yeah, so am I. Thanks for coming down here with me.” Just as they stepped into the parking lot, Ryann heard someone shout her name. She turned just in time to see a middle-aged man wearing a tan trench coat racing toward them. It wasn’t his approach that startled her as much as the terror on the man’s face. He ran like the hounds of hell were at his heels. Just as he stepped into the street, three gunshots rang out in rapid succession and the man hit the ground.
“No!” she screamed, impulsively lunging toward the downed man. But Aiden was faster. In seconds, he was on top of her, shielding her with his body before she could put one foot in front of the other. God, he was heavy. She could hardly breathe, trapped between him and the blacktop.
“Get down!” Nikko yelled at the same time she hit the ground. His gun was drawn and amid the screams and chaos of people scattering for cover, Nikko returned fire. He snarled a nasty curse and then took off after who she could only presume was Henry’s shooter.
“Let me up!” Ryann struggled to get up from beneath Aiden, desperate to reach the man. It felt like forever before his solid weight lifted and she scrambled to her feet, bolting into the street. “Call 911!” she told Aiden, dropping to her knees beside the man.
“Henry?” Oh, God, there was so much blood. Ryann pressed her fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was faint and thready against her fingertips, and she breathed a short-lived sigh of relief he was still alive. “Henry?” she called again. Slowly, the man’s eyelids flickered open, searching as if straining to see her through the darkness. “It’s me, Ryann. I’m here.” She reached for his tightly fisted hand, holding it between both of hers.
He tried to speak, but the effort sent him into a coughing fit. Blood splattered o
nto his cheek, pooling in the corner of his mouth. Each labored breath brought the undeniable wheeze of death. “Just hang on,” she pleaded, gripping his hand tightly in hers. “Help is coming!”
“Ryann?” His glassy eyes seemed unable to focus on her.
His words were wet and raspy, but she could still make out her name. “I’m here . . .” She squeezed his hand as proof.
“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” The warning died on his lips as he released his last breath. His tightly fisted hand went limp in hers and something dropped into her palm. She curled her fingers around the slender rectangle and held it tight as her shoulders wracked with mournful sobs. “I’m so sorry . . .” she repeated the apology over and over as she cried for Henry, cried for her dad—so much senseless death.
As she knelt over the man’s lifeless body, the solid weight of Aiden’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. Sliding down, he gently rubbed her back as she mourned another life taken by the hand of Vincent Moralli.
It was the middle of the night before they got home, having spent several hours at the police station giving their statements. Nikko had gone back to the penthouse after losing the shooter in the crowd. Neither she nor Aiden had given the police Nikko’s name when questioned about the identity of the man who’d chased after the gunman.
She could add that to her list of lies, because she told no one about the flash drive she’d gotten from Henry, either—not even Aiden. A man had been killed for this tonight, and his dying words had been a warning to trust no one. She needed to see what was on this stick before she shared it with anyone.
The moment Aiden opened the front door they were greeted by the sound of a gun being cocked. Aiden tensed and yanked Ryann behind him. “Fuck, man, it’s just us,” Aiden growled.
She could see Nikko past Aiden’s shoulder. He was sitting at the dining room table, facing the front door, wearing nothing but a badass scowl and a pair of sweats. He muttered something she couldn’t understand and took the gun off them. With the weapon pointed at the ceiling, he released the hammer and set it on the table beside the half-empty bottle of vodka.
Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) Page 30