Hell if he knew. He was acting on pure anger and instinct at this point—not a healthy combination.
“Nikko,” Ryann cried, spotting him. “Help me!”
And for a moment, he thought the ex-marine might do just that. Aiden hated the desperation in her voice, and hated even more that she was enlisting the aid of his friend against him.
“Don’t do it, Ryann,” Aiden warned with a growl. “Don’t you pull him into this. Not unless you want to see this night come to blows.”
That simmered her fire a little and she stopped struggling. Aiden shot his friend a stay the fuck out of this glare, and thankfully Del Toro let him pass with a warning glower, or things really would have turned ugly. He marched her into his bedroom, kicked the door shut behind him, and unceremoniously dumped her onto his bed.
She shoved her tangle of fiery hair, as hot as her temper, out of her face and glared up at him. “You can’t keep me here!”
Wanna bet? “Where are you going to go, Ryann? Huh? You think you’re safe out there?” He pointed out the bedroom window. “If you think for one minute that my father doesn’t have someone watching you, that Moralli isn’t tracking your every move, then you’re naïve. So like it or not, until this is over, you’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
She paled at his verbal assault, but Aiden wasn’t done. He had stellar stand-up and wasn’t about to tap to this woman—or anyone else for that matter. “You want to know why I’ve been avoiding you these last three days? It’s because every time I look at you, it kills me to know that my father is responsible for taking yours away. And if that’s all I can think about when I look at you, how much worse would it be once you knew the truth? I was scared as hell of how you’d react when I told you. But congratulations, Ryann, you’ve far surpassed my expectations.”
And there it was—the confession that shattered the fault line of their relationship, sending it crumbling into the chasm of the great abyss. But he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t stand here and listen to her false accusations. She’d pushed him too far.
The sob that tore from her throat was horrific. He felt the bone-deep sorrow all the way to his soul as she stared at him as if he were a monster—as if he were his father. It killed him, and in that horrible moment, every last one of his fears was realized, and they were far worse than he’d imagined.
Her tears broke him. And despite his anger, despite his pain, he still wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make this all go away. “Ryann . . .” he sighed and reached for her. She flinched away from his touch and rolled to her side, giving him her back as she surrendered to her own grief. He didn’t know what else to do. There was nothing he could say. He’d already said too much and far more cruelly than he ever should have.
Sweat poured off Aiden’s brow as he timed his punches with the heavy bag. Fff-fff-fff . . . Fff-fff-ffft . . . Again and again he drove his fist into the bag, on the cusp of exhaustion, but his thoughts would not clear. Fighting had once been his solace, his mental break where he became 100 percent focused—100 percent in control—where his mind would concentrate on nothing but the next combination of strikes, the next sequence of moves that would bring down his opponent. In here, the outside world would fade away. Nothing mattered but the next submission, the next win. But peace would not come—not for him, not tonight, maybe not ever again.
His anger shredded him from the inside out, and no matter how much he pushed and abused his body, nothing could purge his heartache from his soul. It was worse than he’d imagined. When Aiden came home tonight, prepared to tell Ryann the truth about his father, never once had the thought entered his mind that she might already know. And even worse, that she might believe he had anything to do with the conspiracy.
How could she . . . After everything he’d done for her? How could she think, for even a second, that he’d use her, that he’d betray her to his father? He’d expected her to be upset when she learned the truth, but never once had he thought she might doubt his intentions or his integrity. The blow was a fatal wound dealt to his pride, one he wasn’t sure he’d recover from anytime soon, not after everything he’d sacrificed for her. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to stand there and defend himself when she’d already judged him guilty. He’d be damned if he was going to hand her his balls as well as his heart.
And what could he really tell her, anyway? Nothing. What Aiden had done, turning the flash drive over to the DA and the FBI, he couldn’t tell her—he couldn’t tell anyone. Not until this was over, and by then it would probably be too late. The damage was already done. The accusations were already made, the hurt and betrayal ran too deep. If Ryann truly loved him, she would have believed in him. Fuck, she could have at least given him a chance to explain instead of trying to run out on him. If he’d been five minutes later, he would have come home to find her gone.
Anger and betrayal surged anew and Aiden slammed his fist into the bag over and over, welcoming the pain as his bare knuckles connected with the leather, abrading—burning—any distraction to dull the pain in his chest.
Aiden heard the door open behind him and ignored the intrusion, too caught up in his own head to pay attention to the click of the door. He knew full well who was standing on the other side of it.
“If you don’t give that shoulder a rest, it’s going to be shot for your fight tomorrow.” Nikko closed the door behind him. His sparring partner sauntered over and walked behind the bag, scooping up Aiden’s gloves from the mat and tossing them at him. “Put these on.”
Del Toro pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the metal chair in the corner. He didn’t say anything else as he released the Velcro on his own gloves and slipped his hands inside the open mitts before fastening the straps. His friend moved into the center of the mats and raised his hands, positioning into a fighting stance. “I take it things didn’t go well with Gingersnap.”
“You think? I’d say that’s an understatement.” Aiden circled left and Del Toro countered the movement.
“I warned you she’d be pissed if she found out. You can hardly blame her. It had to be a hell of a shock, discovering your dad snuffed her pops.” Nikko jabbed and Aiden deflected, ranging him with a left-handed punch that just fell short. Aiden was moderately ambidextrous, and since he’d injured his right shoulder, he’d been trying to strengthen his left-handed striking. But Nikko wasn’t here to train—his body lacked its usual guarded tension. That determined glint in his steely eyes wasn’t there.
Fuck . . . he wanted to talk. Well, Aiden had done all the chitchatting he cared to do. He wanted to fight. With a quick feint to the right, Nikko ducked to the left, closing the range and Aiden connected a solid uppercut to his ribs.
Nikko grunted with the loss of air but used his momentum to send a spinning hook kick into Aiden’s shoulder that could have just as easily been his head, had his friend meant business. The blow knocked Aiden out of range, and as he readied his stance again, Nikko was quick to get in his verbal jab. “I know you’re pissed, man, but manhandling and scaring the hell out of her probably isn’t winning you any points in the trust department. I’m just sayin’.”
Fuck this . . . Aiden shot for Del Toro’s waist and took the fighter to the mat. They grappled for several minutes, but Aiden was already exhausted from working out. Nikko was still fresh, giving him the advantage, and he got behind Aiden and slipped his forearm beneath Aiden’s chin, locking him tight in a rear naked choke. Caught in the clinch and unable to speak, he had no choice but to listen to what his friend had to say, or tap—and there was no fucking way he was tapping.
“Have you even stopped to consider how things might look from her perspective?” Nikko growled next to his ear. “She hands you her father’s evidence and you practically ghost on her. What’s she supposed to think when you don’t talk to her and she discovers who really killed her father? I don’t know who’s feeding
her the intel, or if it even matters at this point, but you guys had a rocky start and trust issues are bound to come up. You’re both going to have to cut each other a little slack.”
Nikko released the choke hold and shoved Aiden away. Aiden was too exhausted to do anything other than roll on his back and suck air. He canted his head to the side and held Nikko’s gaze, who was doing his own mat recovery.
“I don’t know, man,” Aiden panted. “I’ve never been in love before, what do I know about relationships?”
“Probably more than you think, and a hell of a lot more than I do. But even I can see that woman loves you, and if you let her go over a misunderstanding that you’re too damn stubborn and prideful to work through, then you’re a fool and you don’t deserve her. Not once has a woman ever looked at me the way Ryann looks at you—like her sun rises and sets on you—like you’re her whole world. Take my advice, a woman who looks at you like that is worth giving up everything for. Don’t let her go, man. Some shit a guy just can’t recover from, and losing the love of a good woman is one of those things. You have something special with her, Disco. Don’t let your pride fuck it up.”
CHAPTER
42
After denying Aiden’s request that Ryann let him in, he didn’t return to their room again. She’d locked the bedroom door after he’d left the first time. Amid her heartbroken sobs, she heard the rhythmic echo of his heavy bag and the sounds of his paced breathing. He had been in there a good hour before she heard Nikko’s voice, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying between the dull thuds of their sparring and the whap of flesh slamming against the mats. A little while after that, she’d heard the metal chink of the doorknob’s resistance, followed by the soft knock and Aiden’s request she open the door.
She hadn’t been ready to see him yet. Everything was too jumbled in her head. She had too many questions to sort out and doubts to work through. She could close her eyes and still see Aiden’s bold, unwavering stare and the hard-core determination he displayed whenever he stepped into the cage to fight. It was a trait she admired in him—until that look had been turned on her last night.
He’d met her stare head-on—challenging and belligerent—but where was the guilt, the remorse for his betrayal? Hearing the truth from his lips, admitting he knew his father was responsible for her father’s death, was a blow she hadn’t been prepared for. His voice had been hard as steel and just as unbending. It hurt far worse than she’d ever imagined.
Even now, she fought against the ache in her heart as she remembered the accusations she hurled at him and his furious, indignant response. But he hadn’t come out and denied any of it. He’d lawyered her, twisting her words around by asking her how she could believe such a thing. How had it all gone so wrong? Just when they were never closer to seeing Moralli and his father brought to justice, they were never closer to losing each other.
The rest of the night had dragged on. With the passing of each hour, more doubts infiltrated her mind. Her discovery of the truth had been such a shock that doubt and suspicions had been swiftly ushered in right on its heels. If she’d had more time to process everything before seeing Aiden, had the time to reason through her thoughts and suspicions, she could see there was a very real possibility that she was wrong. And then again maybe she wasn’t, but she at least owed Aiden the opportunity to explain himself. She sure as hell wanted one for the strip club. But other than that, she had to admit that much of her assumptions had been based on circumstantial evidence, and just because it made sense to her didn’t necessarily make it true. Maybe if they could just sit down and talk things through, they would find a common ground. Last night she hadn’t been ready to do that, but this morning, she was ready to face him—to hear what he had to say.
She unlocked the bedroom door and slowly opened it, listening for voices but hearing only silence. Stepping out into the hallway, her bare feet padded against the cold marble as she went in search of Aiden. She checked the gym first, but it was empty. Turning back, she headed to the living room. A twinge of guilt pierced her heart at the sight of the wadded-up blanket and pillow lying on the vacant couch. She checked the dining room—empty. Her last stop was the kitchen. When she walked in and found the fridge door open, she breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t too late. She could hear someone rustling around on the other side of it. Her pulse quickened with anxiety. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous—she’d never had trouble talking to Aiden before. In fact, just the opposite . . .
“Aiden?”
The rustling of glass jars stopped. When the door closed, it wasn’t Aiden who stood up, and Ryann knew a moment of profound disappointment.
“Sorry, Gingersnap.”
Any thoughts Nikko had were locked down tight on his ruggedly handsome face. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment at the thought of what he’d witnessed last light—of her behavior . . . Had she really called out for him to help her? Aww God . . . Pushing aside her shame, she nervously cleared her throat. “Have you umm . . . seen Aiden this morning?”
“He left.”
Alarm sent her heart galloping in her chest. “He left? Why? Where? Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I don’t. We’re not exactly on the best of terms right now.”
Because of me . . . “Can’t you just ping him, or whatever it is you do to find him? I need to talk to him, Nikko.”
“His GPS is off, which means wherever he is, he doesn’t want to be found. You probably should have talked to him when you had the chance last night.”
Well, that was incredibly unhelpful and opinionated. The inflection of frustration in his husky voice was her first hint that he might be pissed—at her. “You’re right. Maybe I should have, but I was too upset to think straight. I was too caught up in my head. I needed some time to sort everything out.”
“And Aiden is caught up in his. He’s not in a good place right now. I wouldn’t recommend talking to him until he cools off. He has a fight to focus on tonight, a fight to win. Let’s just get through one thing at a time, huh?”
Maybe Nikko was right. She wouldn’t bother him right now. She could wait until he got home.
But as the day went on, Aiden didn’t come home. She tried calling him, she tried texting him. He wasn’t responding to her, and with each passing hour that drew closer to his fight, the more anxious she became that he wasn’t going to come back. Nikko hadn’t heard from him, either, which was making the unflappable Nikko Del Toro nervous as hell. Not that he’d ever admit as much, but she could see it in the fine lines of tension bracketing his mouth, pulling his scar tight—the tension that radiated from him. His frequent upward glances at the clock served as a constant reminder it was getting close to the time they needed to leave for the Lion’s Den. Where was Aiden?
“I’m heading down to the Den,” Nikko announced, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and pulling it on. “If you see or hear from Aiden, let him know I’m already there and text me. If I see him first, I’ll text you.”
She nodded. It was too difficult to speak past the lump in her throat. He grabbed Aiden’s gym bag from the floor and left, leaving Ryann alone to stew in her own worry and wallow in regret.
An hour later, Ryann’s phone buzzed in her back pocket and she halted her pacing to grab it. She swiped her thumb over the screen and a text from Nikko popped up. He’s here. He’s fine. Be home after the fight.
Oh, thank God! Ryann plopped into her chair, slumping with exhaustion. She was too relieved to dwell on the fact that Aiden hadn’t bothered to respond to her himself. She was just glad he was all right. Ryann couldn’t let herself worry about the upcoming fight tonight. This was Aiden’s career. She couldn’t put herself through that kind of emotional torment every time he stepped into the cage. Everything would be fine, she told herself, despite the doubt pricking her conscience. She was just being overly sensitive, because she hadn’t slept in th
irty hours. Aiden would be home later and they’d talk about things then.
Ryann enjoyed approximately five minutes of rest before Aiden’s landline rang. She startled at the shrillness, her heart immediately taking flight. She crossed the living room and answered his phone just as the answering machine was picking up. “Hello?” The desperate part of her hoped it was Aiden calling to make sure she was there. What she wasn’t expecting to hear was a woman’s clipped voice on the other end.
“Is Aiden there?”
She recognized that voice, or more the sour, impatient tone. “No, I’m sorry he’s out for the evening. Can I take a message?”
“Ryann, this is Madeline. I really must speak with Aiden immediately.”
So the woman did know who she was, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a definite sense of urgency in her voice that made Ryann nervous. “Aiden isn’t here. He has a fight tonight. You could try his cell,” she offered lamely, not sure what else the woman expected her to do. But that odd niggling of unease now returned with a vengeance. Why would Aiden’s mother be calling and demanding to speak with him?
“I have tried his cell—several times. He isn’t taking my calls.”
He isn’t taking my calls, either.
“Ryann, I need you to get ahold of Aiden. I overheard a conversation between his father and one of his men this afternoon. Moralli and Bennett know he’s been meeting with the DA and the FBI. The fight is a setup, Ryann. Moralli plans to have him killed so he won’t be able to testify. You have to warn him before it’s too late, before he gets in that ring tonight.”
It took Ryann a moment to get her mind wrapped around what Madeline was telling her. Her heart plunged into her stomach, trepidation seizing her as dawning reality sent her mind into a full blown panic.
Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) Page 34