Running Wilde

by Tonya Burrows

  “Tommy.” She was surprised at how level her voice sounded since her heart was threatening to hammer out of her chest. “Cris. It’s been a long time.”

  Tommy’s only acknowledgment was to sneer again. Cristiano’s expression remained weirdly blank, as if there was nothing going on inside his head one way or another. He held open the door with his big body and said, “Father will be here soon.”

  Dahlia gazed at the doorway and told herself she had to go in, but her feet wouldn’t move.

  She could do this. She had to do this. For Vaughn.

  Tommy gave her a shove from behind, and she tripped over the metal lip of the doorframe.

  Despite its dilapidated appearance from the outside, the interior of the warehouse actually was miles away from the ones she’d sought shelter in. It was clean and well-lit with stadium-like seating surrounding an enormous metal cage at the center of the space. Obviously this was one of Giuseppe’s underground fight clubs. Hadn’t Vaughn said that was how he first landed on Giuseppe’s radar?

  Cam sat in the cage, his back to the wire, his knees drawn up, head resting on his folded arms. He looked a little banged up, but he was breathing. Which, if she was honest with herself, was more than she’d been expecting.

  As her footsteps echoed in the space, he gazed up. One eye was swollen shut and his lip had been split open, but he looked so much like Vaughn that her heart stuttered. Logically, she’d known they were identical twins. She’d even met Cam before and knew he and Vaughn were about as identical as twins got. Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for the gut-check reality of seeing a man with Vaughn’s face all beat-up and held captive.

  Cam’s one good eye widened. “Lark?”

  Oh, how she wished she could be Lark again. Life had been so much simpler, and for a brief, shining moment, she’d been happy.

  But she’d left that life in her rearview mirror months ago, and now she had to face the coldness of her reality. She wasn’t Lark. She wasn’t Sage.

  She folded her arms around her middle, hoping they would help hold her together. Because, holy hell, she was definitely not holding it together right now. “My real name is Dahlia Bellisario.”

  Cam staggered to his feet. He was limping badly, which made her think of Vaughn snarling at her because she was worried about his leg. God. She’d never see his grumpy ass again, and boy did that ever hurt. Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not when Giuseppe could arrive at any moment.

  “You need to leave,” Cam said. “Go, get out of here. If something happens to you, Vaughn will lose his mind. He came close when you disappeared on him.”

  “No. I’m not leaving. He’d never forgive me if I left and something happened to you.”

  In a move that was very much like his twin, Cam banged his fists on the cage, making the links rattle. “Goddammit. We can’t both die today. He’s going to need one of us.”

  “And that will be you.” She finally unglued her feet and hurried to the cage, searching for a way to let him out. “You’re more important to him than I’ll ever be.”

  “If you think that, you’re delusional. He’s in love with you. Has been from day one. And love means something to him. You know him, Lark. You know how deeply he feels.”

  She let the name slip go, mainly because her throat was too closed up to allow for words. She nodded. She heard what he was saying, but still couldn’t believe Vaughn would feel as strongly about her as he did for his brother. Not with the way she’d treated him.

  The cage was locked, but locks had never stopped her for long.

  She glanced over her shoulder to check on Cristiano and Tommy, but they were both standing at the door, waiting for Giuseppe with their backs turned. Idiots. She reached underneath her hair at the back of her neck and found her trusty bobby pin. After snapping it in half, she got to work on the lock. It didn’t take much. Just a bit of wiggling, a twist of her wrist, and the door opened.

  “Impressive,” Cam said. He was struggling to stay on his feet, and she hurried in to help.

  “Can you walk?”

  “It’s just a sprain.” But he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth whenever he put the slightest bit of weight on his left foot.

  A sprain? Yeah, right. If he had a pain tolerance anywhere in the same ballpark as his twin, that ankle was definitely broken.

  “Let me help.” She looped an arm around his waist and nudged a shoulder into his armpit, but they only made it a few staggering steps out of the cage before a voice from the doorway stopped her cold.

  “Bravo,” Giuseppe said. “You’ve learned a few new tricks in the last five years, haven’t you, Dahlia?”

  She looked up and met the gaze of the man she’d been running from for most of her adult life. The man who had haunted her nightmares and terrified her into insomnia. Save for some gray streaks in his once-dark hair and some extra lines around his mouth, Giuseppe didn’t look as if he’d aged a day since she’d last seen him. He was a blast right out of her past—living, breathing, and walking toward her with a gun in his hand.

  She tightened her grip on Cam because she was afraid of what would happen to them if she let him go. “I’m here. I’ve held up my end of the deal. Cam’s free to go.”

  “What’s the rush? We have all night.” Giuseppe motioned with his gun. Cristiano and Tommy pried Cam out of her grasp, and he went down hard, his bad ankle giving out underneath him.

  “He needs to see a doctor.”

  Tommy laughed, and it was an ugly sound. “He don’t need no doctor where he’s going.”

  She whirled on Giuseppe. “We made a deal.”

  “One you knew I wouldn’t keep.”

  “He has nothing to do with this.”

  Giuseppe stormed forward and grabbed her by the throat, throwing her against the side of the cage. “He had everything to do with it! Vaughn was fucking me around. I need to send a message.”

  She clawed at the huge hand choking off her airway. “Then use me,” she gasped. “Let…him…go.”

  “Oh, believe me. I have plans for you.” He glanced casually over his shoulder at his nephew and held out his gun. “Tommy, paint the walls, will ya?”

  Tommy took the weapon and pointed it at Cam’s head. There was nothing she could do but watch as Cam defiantly stared down the barrel of the gun, his expression so much like Vaughn’s….

  The warehouse door banged open.

  Everyone froze in a weird tableau of violence and surprise. Giuseppe loosened his grip on her throat, and she was able to suck in a rasping lungful of air. Tommy swung the gun toward the newcomer, and Cam swept out with his good leg, taking Tommy’s feet out from under him. There was a brief wrestling match on the floor, but Cam came out on top, gun aimed at a cowering Tommy.

  Cristiano just stood and watched it all unfold like the big lug he was, then raised his hands slowly as Vaughn stepped into view with a gun aimed in his direction.

  Vaughn took in the scene with flat eyes, showing only the briefest hint of concern when he noticed his twin’s limp. But he hid it fast and turned his attention to her and Giuseppe. “Hurt her, and you can say good-bye to your son and nephew.”

  Cristiano finally clued in to what was happening and charged at Cam—

  And all hell broke loose.

  A gun went off and the bullet pinged wildly off the cage near her head. Giuseppe released her and spun around like he intended to join the fight for control of the weapon, but Cristiano had already subdued Cam with an arm twisted up behind his back. Tommy now held the gun, and Giuseppe grabbed her again before she could get away.

  He smirked over at Vaughn. “The tables have turned. So what’s your next move, Wilde?”

  Vaughn didn’t move. Not at first. He glanced from her to Cam and back. Then, slowly, he lowered his weapon to the floor and held up his hands in surrender.

  “See, I knew you were a smart man.” Giuseppe nodded and passed her off to Cristiano, whose hands felt like sandpaper on
her skin.

  She was forced down to the concrete beside Cam and watched helplessly as Vaughn followed orders to walk forward with his hands locked behind his head. Giuseppe indicated he should sit at Cam’s other side, and he did so without protest.

  “You okay, bro?” he asked softly.

  “I’d be better if there wasn’t a gun pointed at us,” Cam muttered.

  “Yeah, you’ll live.”

  “Kinda doubting that right now. Is my wife—”

  “Losing her mind. Which is exactly why you need to go home to her.” He leaned back enough to see around Cam. “Vixen, are you hurt?”

  “No,” she managed. Despite the burning in her throat, she wasn’t really injured. Not yet anyway. But Giuseppe was like a cat, always playing with his prey until he tired of the game and finished it off. He was only toying with them, and she shuddered to think of the horrors he had lined up for her.

  “We’ll be okay,” Vaughn said.

  She wanted to believe him. She never wanted to doubt him again, but she couldn’t see how any of this would turn out okay.

  Then he climbed to his feet. “Bellisario! I want to make a deal.”

  Giuseppe turned. “You’re not in a position to make deals.”

  “I’ll fight you.”

  “What?” Cam said.

  Giuseppe crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what happens to men who get in the octagon with me? I’m undefeated.”

  “Because you haven’t fought me yet,” Vaughn said.

  “I do enjoy your bravado.” He thought about it for a second, then a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “All right, I’ll humor you. What are the terms of this deal?”

  “I win, we walk away. All of us, including Dahlia.”

  Giuseppe’s smile morphed into a sneer. “She’s not up for negotiation. I’ll make the deal for you and your brother.”

  Vaughn looked at her. She nodded slightly, telling him it was okay. She hadn’t expected to walk away from this warehouse anyway.

  He scowled, shook his head, and faced off with Giuseppe again. “I’ll only fight if Dahlia’s safety is included in our agreement.”

  “No.” With that, Giuseppe walked toward the door.

  “That was a quick no, huh?” Vaughn said conversationally over his shoulder to his brother. “Think he’s afraid of me?”

  Cam looked as if he had to unglue his jaw to speak, and his blue eyes were full of I’m-going-to-kill-him-for-this. Still, he played along, his voice almost matching Vaughn’s for casualness, as if they were talking about nothing more life-threatening than the potential for rain. “Yeah, he’s definitely afraid.”

  “From all the rumors, I figured he’d have bigger balls than that.”

  “Cut him some slack, bro. He’s what? Twice your age?”

  “Mm. Old man.”

  “You’d put him in a nursing home.”

  “In adult diapers.”

  “On a puree diet.”

  Dahlia’s gaze ping-ponged between the twins. Jesus. They were both completely suicidal.

  Giuseppe swung around, color filling his face. “Enough.” Spittle flew with the word. He crossed the room in a handful of strides and grabbed the front of Vaughn’s shirt, got in his face. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Yeah,” Cam said wearily and side-eyed his twin. “He does.”

  You both do, Dahlia thought but kept her mouth shut.

  “No,” Vaughn countered. “I only want a fighting chance to save the people I care about.”

  Giuseppe stared at him for a long time, then finally released his shirt. “Fine, but there will be no tapping out of this match.”

  Dahlia’s stomach dropped. No tapping out? She didn’t know much about cage fighting, but that sounded bad, and Cam’s muttered cursing confirmed her fears. This wasn’t going to be any fight. This was going to go on until someone was on life support. Or worse.

  Giuseppe stripped out of his coat and shirt and passed them to his nephew. He motioned to Dahlia and Cam with his chin. “If they try anything, shoot them.”

  Vaughn didn’t show a reaction, just stripped off his shirt. He was so good at locking everything up inside, it was no wonder she once thought him intimidating, but she knew him now better than anyone. He needed that protective shell, because for all of his warrior ways, he had a tender soul, one that felt things deeply and could be so easily hurt.

  And she’d hurt him.

  No. She couldn’t let him die without telling him how much she regretted that.

  “Vaughn!” She surged to her feet and caught his face between her hands when he swung around. She met his gaze, and there—that’s where she saw the fear. Not for himself. No, he wouldn’t fear for his own safety. But for his twin. And, possibly, for her?

  She swallowed hard and lifted onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. God, those words aren’t enough for how much I regret hurting you and dragging you into this mess, but it’s all I can give—”

  He speared his hand into her hair and tilted her head back, interrupting her rambling with a harder kiss. It was more than a meeting of lips and tangle of tongues. It was everything she wanted to say, everything she didn’t have the words for. All of her anger at him for putting himself in this position. Her fear for him. Her love for him. Her heart and soul, all poured into a kiss.

  Gentle hands clasped her shoulders and tugged her back, away from Vaughn. It had to be Cam because Tommy or Cristiano wouldn’t be so gentle, but still she resisted. She clung to him, terrified to let him go because as soon as she did he’d climb into that cage with the devil himself. And while he may be a good fighter, he was already at a disadvantage.

  He had a soul.

  Vaughn finally set her back, pushing her into Cam’s arms. He lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles gently over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “C’mon, vixen. None of that. Call me a name instead. Give me the best you got.”

  She sniffed. “Douchecanoe twatwaffle.”

  He grinned. “There’s my spitfire.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, too.”

  He said it so softly that at first, she wasn’t sure she heard him right. She drew away to gaze up at him, but he was looking over her shoulder at Cam. Something passed between the twins, a poignant nonverbal communication. The bond between them was like nothing she’d ever seen. It was a pure, deep love.

  It was…family.

  She wanted to be part of that. She wanted family—with Vaughn.

  But he was turning away, leaving her—leaving them both—and walking toward death. Giuseppe was already inside the cage, bouncing from foot to foot, throwing punches at the air, exhaling hard with each flurry of his fists. Vaughn paused at the bottom of the stairs leading up into the cage and glanced in their direction. His shoulders moved with a long exhale, and his features hardened, then he kicked off his shoes and climbed the steps without looking back again.

  Chapter Twenty

  The concrete was cold on his feet—no spongy mats here to absorb the shock of a fall. At one time, he’d liked that about this particular octagon. The fights were real, raw, intense. But now all he could think about was how much his body already hurt and how Dahlia stood just on the other side of wire fencing, fearing for him.

  He blocked her out of his mind. He also blocked the worry he felt radiating from his twin. He couldn’t let them distract him from his goal.

  He was going to kill Giuseppe and free Dahlia from her past—even if he died doing it. Nobody deserved the life she had lived. The life this fucker had forced on her.

  He squashed down the surge of anger and squared off in front of Bellisario. Anger made you stupid. Like the rest, it was an emotion he couldn’t afford right now.

  Bellisario didn’t look like an old man. He was as tall as Vaughn, a solid mass of well-used muscle.

  “Well?” he demanded. “Are we going to stand here all day or are we going to fight?”

  “I want
to hear you say it first, Bellisario. I want to hear you order your shit-for-brains minions to leave us alone if I win.”

  Bellisario’s eyes narrowed. If he’d been hoping Vaughn would just charge into the fight without extracting a guarantee first, he’d gotten too used to dealing with idiots. Which, come to think of it, might be an advantage. Vaughn tucked the knowledge away for later use. He’d need every advantage he could get.

  Bellisario said nothing for a moment, then finally glanced toward his son and nephew. “You heard him. If he wins, you’re to let them go.”

  “And leave Dahlia alone for the rest of her life. You’ll no longer chase her.”

  His jaw tightened. “And leave Dahlia alone.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Tommy said, his lip curling in disgust. “It won’t matter, because Giuseppe Bellisario has never lost.”

  Neither have I.

  And it was the last coherent thought he had as Bellisario launched at him. He became a creature of violence, all action and reaction, dodging, blocking, trying to land his own punches. Bellisario was fast. As soon as he blocked a punch on one side, the bastard was landing another somewhere else. Bellisario drove him across the octagon, trying to corner him against the cage.

  He recognized the move. Cristiano had tried it on him when they fought. But when he tried to drill his elbow into Bellisario’s spine like he had Cristiano’s, he was blocked. Bellisario hooked a leg around Vaughn’s and, fuck, he was going down. He hit the cage with his back, rattling the links, and bounced. Pain stabbed through his side, but he ignored it and used the momentum of his bounce to find his feet again. He got a fist to the face that rang his bell good, but he was still upright and issued an uppercut that snapped Bellisario’s head back.

  Bellisario staggered a few steps away, and the lull gave Vaughn the second he needed to pull his shit back together. Somewhere in the distance, he recognized Cam and Dahlia cheering him on, their voices echoing through the warehouse. With the pain blazing up his ribs and his energy flagging, hearing their voices was exactly the motivation he needed to get his ass back in the fight. He launched at his opponent with a kick. Bellisario blocked and took a swing, a sloppy cross that would have probably been followed by a jab if Vaughn hadn’t caught his arm with the crook of his elbow. He ducked his head and wrapped his arms around Bellisario in a clinch hold. He needed to get the bastard on the goddamn ground.