by Leddy Harper
Seeing my discomfort, he urged me to lie down and tucked himself between my back and the couch with his arm slung over my waist. I wanted to relax into him like I’d done so many times before, but I couldn’t seem to get my body to soften. Regret coiled tight in every muscle, panic and fear burned in every joint.
“You’re tense, babe. What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t feel good.”
He pressed his lips to my neck and slowly kissed his way to my shoulder. Just as slowly, he moved his hand beneath my shirt and pressed his heated palm to my bare stomach. It was a simple gesture, one of consideration and comfort. But he didn’t stop there. He splayed his fingers across the smooth skin of my belly until the tips reached beneath the waistband on my shorts.
I gently grabbed his wrist to offer a subtle hint that I wasn’t in the mood, but it went ignored when he ground his hips against me from behind. His erection pressed into the curve of my ass and caused me to jolt forward, almost falling off the couch.
“C’mon, baby…just calm down. Let me make you feel better.”
“No, Josh.” It was meant to be strong and affirmative, but instead, it came out meek and airy. As soon as he pulled my shoulders flush with his chest, I knew he’d mistaken my tone as being desperate and turned on. Which wasn’t the case. After what Killian had done to my body, and the uneasiness he’d left me with, the last thing I wanted was to be touched. “Please, Josh. I’m not in the mood. I told you…I don’t feel good.”
He stilled for a moment, and just as I thought he’d settle behind me and watch TV like he said he would, he bolted into a sitting position, taking the blanket with him. “What the hell, Lee? Ever since you came back from that Podunk town of yours, you’ve barely let me touch you. You push me away every time I try.” His piercing blue eyes darkened like a storm cloud covering their shining pools. His eyelids lowered more than usual while he trapped me in place with his stare. “Did you see him?”
“W–what?” I gasped, praying I’d misunderstood him.
“That kid you grew up with. Was he there? Is that why you’ve been acting like this? Is that why you’ve been pushing me away, being all quiet and down and shit?” He backed away even more until he sat on the edge of the couch, the blanket now completely off my bent legs. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Lee. Was he there? Did you see him?”
“No, Josh,” I said with a sigh while trying to sit up as well. “He wasn’t there. I didn’t see him. I swear.” It technically wasn’t a lie, enabling me to say those words to him with confidence. The fire in his eyes worried me, but upon my declaration, it seemed to settle him a bit.
“Then why won’t you let me touch you?”
Because I’m filled with Killian’s come.
Because not even an hour ago, Killian’s dick was deep inside me.
Because you’re not Killian.
But I couldn’t say any of that. I hated to even think it. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t feel well? My stomach hurts and I’m tired. I’m not in the mood to mess around today. Saturday, after I came back, you were hurt—not to mention, we’d gotten into a fight. You were busy most of the day on Sunday, and then I’ve been at work since Monday. You act like I’ve shunned you or ignored you. I’ve done neither of those things. In fact, I’ve seen you every night since I came back.”
“I just want to make you feel better,” he whispered while trailing his hand up my soft shin, stopping with his bear-like paw covering my bent knee. He glanced to where he touched me, and the moment his brow creased and his eyes narrowed, I knew things were about to go from bad to worse. “What the fuck is that?”
My heart stilled at his thunderous roar. I turned my attention to what held his focus. He pushed my legs apart and ran his thumb over a fresh bruise that seemed to form and darken before my eyes. Without looking at me, he manipulated my leg in the other direction, observing the other side of my thigh. I didn’t need to see it to know what he’d find there—four more bruises. I could still feel Killian’s grip on me from when he took everything I had and gave me everything he was.
“Lee…” My name rolled off his tongue in a threatening tone while he trapped me with his unrelenting stare. “What the fuck is this?”
Excuses and lies swarmed my mind, but I knew none of them would go over well. It was obvious they were caused by a hand, and not those of the children I dealt with at work. Knowing if I stalled, it’d only anger him more, I blurted out the first thing I could think of. “I have no idea. I didn’t even know they were there. I noticed them this morning and figured they were from you.”
“From me?” he asked, his tone showing no hint of him buying anything I said.
“Well, who else would they be from, Josh?” I tried to sound nonchalant, leaving no reason for him to question it. “We wrestled around on the floor last night. Remember? You were teaching me how to get out of a hold. I just assumed I got it then.”
It wasn’t a lie…we had wrestled. Although, it wasn’t rough. He remained gentle the entire time he showed me different moves and techniques. If he thought about it hard enough, he’d probably see the lie through the thin veil of truth.
I only prayed he wouldn’t.
He caressed the forming bruises with the lightest touch of his fingertips. “I’m sorry, Lee. I’ll have to make sure I’m more careful with you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The underlying remorse in his tone deepened the ache in my chest until I thought I’d physically explode with grief.
Needing to move forward instead of obsessing over my failures, I leaned back and rested my head on the pillow. “You’re more than welcome to cuddle with me while watching TV, as long as you don’t try to press the issue. I want you here.” The words scorched my tongue as I uttered them. “But I honestly just want to take it easy and relax.”
With a smile, he moved behind me and folded me against him.
“I could get used to this,” he said with a soft kiss to my shoulder.
“I could, too.”
It was official…I hated myself.
Nineteen
Killian
I pulled my chin to the bar and slowly let myself back down again, keeping my legs crossed in front of me. Chains clanked in the distance, as well as the thundering echoes of the speed bag not even thirty feet from me. There wasn’t much talking, but with the bustling in the gym, no words needed to be uttered. The room smelled of sweat and determination. It wasn’t something I found intoxicating, but it drove me forward.
It was what I needed to push me.
Center me.
Remind me of why I was here in the first place.
“Ten more, Happy,” Cal called out while watching my form.
Silently, I obeyed. I didn’t need to nod, because everyone knew there was no questioning what the coach said. I continued to pull my chin to the bar before lowering myself again, never touching the floor. My back and core burned from the countless chin-ups I’d already done, but I wouldn’t call it quits until Cal did.
However, out of the ten remaining, I only reached eight.
With two left, I stilled at the sight before me. Her silky hair, darker and shinier than before, framed her face as she moved toward me. Her eyes were lined in coal, making them appear smaller than usual. Pale pink gloss covered her lips, and it made me crave them—yearn to feel them on me. Everywhere. Leaving behind the sticky residue of the artificial color.
“Happy…” Cal threatened, but once he realized I wouldn’t look his way, he turned to see what had caught my attention. He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, doll, but this is a closed area. The main gym is up front.”
Rylee stepped up to him, never taking her hardened stare off me, and dropped my gym bag at my feet. I’d left it in her car, forgetting all about it by the time I’d gotten her back to Cal’s house two days ago. I’d decided to let her keep it, hoping Josh would find it. It gave me pleasure knowing she had something of mine with her, and at any moment, he could realize who she truly belo
nged to.
“Figured you might need this.” Her tone was just as harsh as her glare.
“Sweetheart, he doesn’t speak. There’s no point in trying to have a conversation with him. Thank you for returning his bag, but he really needs to get back to training.”
I pushed Cal aside without once glancing at him, and stepped forward, closer to Rylee. I stood so close she had to tilt her head back to look at me, but neither of us spoke. Only stared. Saying everything we needed to with our eyes. I could see in hers that she was angry, livid with me for leaving my bag behind. And I hoped she could see the satisfaction in mine, letting her know I didn’t give a flying fuck about whether or not her boyfriend could’ve found it.
“That’s all. I have nothing else to say.” And then she turned her back to me to leave.
As soon as she was far enough away, Cal spoke up. In as quiet of a voice as he could muster, he asked, “What the fuck was that about?” When I met his stare, I realized he knew more than he’d let on while in Rylee’s presence. “Who is she to you? How the hell do you know her?”
Answering him, I extended my arm, showing him the tattoo he’d made mention of countless times since we met. He’d given me shit for putting a woman’s name on my body permanently, and how that was nothing but asking for trouble.
He exhaled loudly and dropped his head into his hand. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me, Happy. Are you for real? Do you know who she is? Do you know she’s—” He shook his head with a mirthless chuckle. “Of course you do. Is that why you paid your own way in? Why you said you wanted the toughest, hardest fighter for your bid? Is she the reason you want into the ring with him?”
I didn’t move, didn’t offer an explanation—not that he’d truly expected one, considering he knew I wouldn’t speak to him. But he more than likely took my silence as confirmation. Honestly, I didn’t care what he thought or assumed. It didn’t matter to me. Didn’t mean a damn thing in the end.
“Jesus Christ, Happy…” he muttered with his hands fisted at his sides, his words grinding out through clenched teeth. “You’re playing with fire. You know that? Do you even have a clue what you’re doing? I don’t care what you two had when you were younger…she’s with him now. And after you laid him out last week, he’s gonna be gunning for you. I can train you, and make sure you’re prepared, but I can’t save you. If he finds out you’re chasing his skirt, there won’t be a prayer’s chance in hell for you.”
I turned my attention to where Rylee retreated, and instantly, my blood boiled. One of the other fighters from Cal’s ring had her cornered. Her stiff posture showed she was uneasy and not interested, but he didn’t seem to get the hint. I didn’t even know his name, never had any interaction with the kid before, but I was about to change that. I stalked toward him, coming up behind Rylee. He didn’t even notice my approach until I had my hand wrapped around his throat, his back pinned to the wall. A resounding thud rented the air as his skull connected with the concrete. His eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open while he unsuccessfully fought for air.
My gaze found Rylee’s, wordlessly asking if she was okay. She had her arms hugged tightly around her midsection, fear embedded into her features, but she nodded anyway. And with her chin trembling, dimpling as she fought against the onslaught of emotions racking her body, she whirled around and fled.
I waited until she disappeared through the back door before releasing the piece of shit I had pinned to the wall. It wasn’t until I let go that I realized in my haste to protect Rylee, I’d held him off his feet. He clawed at his neck and gulped in air while I stood back and watched him. Taking pleasure in another person’s pain had never been my thing. There were only ever three men I wanted to see suffer, and this twig wasn’t one of them. But for some reason, the thought of him making Rylee uncomfortable blinded me against logic. In that moment, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to fucking fear me with every breath he took until he learned from his mistake and never set his eyes on her again.
“Break it up, you two.” Cal stormed over to us and poked me in the chest. “For that stunt, you can add twenty more to the two you didn’t finish, and when you’re done, you can hit up the speed bag until I tell you to stop. Save your anger for the ring—preferably not against my men.”
I left him tending to the fucker on the floor, gasping for air.
This whole bare-knuckle fighting organization still confused me. But I took it as I went and stuck to the rules laid out for me. It was Saturday night, two weeks since I’d taken down Josh the Jaguar Disick, and we were officially in the preliminary rounds for the tournament. This would settle who would move forward and who would have to sit back and watch everyone else battle for the title.
None of it made sense to me. Cal did his best to teach me how it worked, but really, it didn’t matter. After I fuck up Josh and have Rylee back in my arms, in my bed, I wouldn’t be around any longer.
“You solid?” Cal asked and handed me a bottle of water. We were waiting along the far wall in a different gym, one I’d never been to before. There was a fight currently taking place in the ring, and the clamor of the crowd eliminated almost any chance of holding a decent conversation.
I nodded and drank enough of the cold water to wet my tongue. I didn’t want a belly full of liquid, but needed to remain hydrated. It was the first thing Cal had taught me after I came to him with my proposal.
Some scrawny kid everyone called Brawny was minutes away from winning the fight against someone twice his size. It just proved strength wasn’t everything. Sometimes, the smaller ones were faster. And by that point, it didn’t matter how much power your punch packed. If the other person could dodge it faster than you could swing, it didn’t do much good.
Cal droned on, but I didn’t pay him any attention. Not only did the people in the crowd become more boisterous, but something just around the corner of the stage caught my eye. Someone. A built motherfucker with his arm around my girl. If I hadn’t already made a vow to take him out, I’d do it right now.
Josh and Rylee stood a few feet away from the action, both had their eyes glued to the fight in front of them as it came to a close. Brawny was in the same circle as Josh, so him being there made sense, taking it all in, smiling from ear to ear as if he had some kind of stake in the match. What I didn’t understand was why Rylee was there, standing alongside Josh, tucked into his side.
If I wasn’t next, I would’ve stormed over there and taken her away.
“Hap!” Cal screamed into my ear, garnering my attention. He glanced to the side, catching what I’d been staring at, and glared at me. “Get your fucking head in the game, son.” Him calling me “son” fueled my rage.
I wasn’t his son.
He wasn’t my father.
My dad was gone.
One last time, I turned my head toward Josh, my fists balled so tightly I lacked blood flow to my fingers. But then Rylee glanced my way and an eerie calmness began to settle in my veins. Giving Cal my attention once more, I nodded and stoned myself for the ring.
The officiant held Brawny’s arm in the air as a crashing wave of mixed responses overtook the small, dark gym. The only lights in the place were set on the stage, highlighting the events that held everyone’s attention.
The skinny twig slipped through the ropes lining the ring and shook hands with Josh while Rylee stood off to the side. Had it not been for Cal slapping me on the back, I would’ve missed my introduction, too absorbed with the sight before me.
I climbed onto the stage and took my side, staring down a guy who probably had five years on me. His mangled face proved he was no stranger to fighting, although it also told me he was hit more than he dodged.
The expression on his face was that of a man who didn’t want to be here. Maybe he wasn’t interested in the fight, or maybe he wasn’t thrilled about standing in front of me. Whatever it was, the determination in his eyes wasn’t there. He wasn’t amped up or bouncing around like I’d witnessed from others. He re
mained still and calm as I stared him down.
“Happy, ready?” the officiant roared in a hoarse voice. I nodded. “Cain…you ready?” The man opposite me nodded, never taking his eyes off me. Suddenly, the fierceness took hold of him and he readied himself. It was like night and day.
Gritting his teeth and flaring his nostrils, this was a man who came for a fight.
And a fight is what he’d get.
The officiant stepped back and Cain moved forward. I remained where I was and allowed the old man to come to me. Like a bear in a trap, he lunged forward, arm cocked to the side, ready to strike, but before he could swing, I rammed my fist into his side, just below his ribs. He stumbled back, bent at the hips, and clutched his hand over the spot I’d punched.
I didn’t move.
Cal screamed at me from beyond the ropes, ordering me to go after him, but I didn’t. Instead, I stood with my legs parted, my arms at my sides, and waited for Cain to regain momentum. When he straightened, he blindly charged at me. This time, I didn’t deflect his attack. His knuckles rained down on my jaw, barely meeting it, but it was enough force to toss my head to the side. Briefly. Nothing I couldn’t recover from in half a second.
I blocked out Cal’s murderous rants from over my shoulder and straightened myself. Cain didn’t pause in his assault, using his left hand to come at me from below. It was at the perfect angle to take hold of his wrist and twist his arm until I locked it behind his back. From there, the ball was in my court. Not even breaking a sweat, I kicked his leg out from under him and pushed him flat on the ground.
He broke free and flipped over, but I didn’t take a breather this time. I struck him twice in the face. Blood pooled beneath him. He hadn’t tapped out and the officiant hadn’t called time. Cal’s demanding voice drifted through the barrage of excitement on the other side of the ropes, telling me to take him out. But I didn’t have it in me to do so.