Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) (36 page)

“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.

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 

S
weetheart, 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 onto 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.

“Didn’t anybody ever tell you that guns and booze don’t mix?” Aiden grouched, walking Ryann past the dining room, careful to keep himself between her and Nikko. “You shoot me and I’m going to be pissed.”

Nikko
chuckled, or at least that’s what she thought it was intended
to be, but it came out sounding more like a dark, angry snarl that sent
a shiver of goose bumps prickling up her arms. This was the side of Nikko she’d sensed when she’d first met him, the side that put her on
guard and made her wary. As they got closer, she noticed the smattering
of scars down the side of his chest. Wow, he wasn’t kidding when he’d told her he was damaged. This man who watched her with the silvery eyes of a predator made her feel like prey caught in the hunter’s snare. Had she really just today been joking with him?—teasing him about avocados? Well, she’d been wrong about one thing: those demons that
tormented Nikko were a lot closer to the surface than she ever realized.

She stopped when they entered the living room, and she placed her hand on Aiden’s arm. “Why don’t you talk to him? Something is obviously wrong. It’s late and I’ve had a horrible night. I think I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”

Aiden frowned, possibly sensing her dismissal for what it truly was. She wanted to be alone. She needed some time to herself to process everything that had happened. He cradled her face in his hands and tipped it up to search her eyes. What was he looking for? The strain of the day was etched in the fine lines of his handsome face. The draw of his brows seemed to be in a perpetual state of tension these past few days. Not that she blamed him. The man was under an incredible amount of stress. Under the circumstances, he was holding up remarkably well.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Please tell Nikko I said thank you—for everything.”

He bent down and kissed her before letting her go. She headed down the hallway and ducked into his office to retrieve her laptop before going into their bedroom. After a quick shower, she changed into one of Aiden’s superhero T-shirts. Tonight it was Green Lantern. A small smile touched her lips at the sight of her reflection. She brushed her fingers over the lantern symbol printed in the center of the bright green shirt and thought of the fallen heroes in her life—first her father and now Henry. When would it end?

All these years her dad had been her Superman, and that kind of worship didn’t just go away. Gambling had been his kryptonite and ultimately it had destroyed him. It didn’t matter what mistakes he’d made, she would never love him any less. She just wished she knew the truth so she could finally find closure and claim justice for her father—and now for Henry, too.

Turning from the mirror, she piled pillows against the headboard and climbed into bed. She dragged her computer onto her lap, opened the lid, and turned it on. While she waited for it to power up, she uncapped the flash drive and plugged it into the USB port. A menu popped up in the center of the screen, and the first document she saw was titled
Ryann.
At the sight of her name, her heart began to pound with anticipation. This was it. Whatever was in this file was important enough to kill for. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself against her mounting anxiety and opened the document. At the sight of the letter, she uttered a little gasp, her hand rising to her lips as she read the last words her father would ever say to her.

My Dearest Ryann,

If you are reading this letter, then that means I am no longer with you. I am so sorry for the way things have turned out. I had hoped for a different outcome. By now you probably know the truth, the truth I’ve worked very hard to shelter you from, and I want to start by telling you how deeply I regret the decisions I have made. My only hope is that it’s not too late to correct my wrongs, and my old friend Henry has agreed to help me do that.

I want you to know how much I love you and how very proud I am of the woman you’ve become. You are the only light in the darkness that surrounds me. I have made mistakes, and in trying to undo them, I’ve made far greater ones. I fear my demons are about to catch up with me. Were I to do it all over again, I would have taken you someplace far away from here and started over somewhere simpler—someplace safer. It is my hope and my desire that you do that now. Leave New York, Ryann. You’re not safe here. Please, Ryann, I beg you, begin a new life far away from here and the evils that pollute our city.

I’ve set up an account in your name. All the bank information is in an attached file. It’s your mother’s life insurance money, and I want you to use it to start over. It was never my wish to drag you into this, but I fear the ramifications of my actions have made that inevitable. But you must leave, Ryann, before it’s too late.

Again, I want to tell you how sorry I am and how very much I love you.

All My Love,

Daddy

As Ryann read the letter, sadness and regret overwhelmed her, grief wrapping around her chest like an invisible band, tightening until her heart ached from the pressure. If she’d only known . . . if he’d only confided in her, they could have left and started over together and he would still be alive. Now she was alone. No, she reminded herself, resisting the temptation to give into self-pity. She wasn’t alone. She had Aiden. Unbidden, Henry’s warning returned to haunt her.
Don’t trust anyone . . .

This was crazy. She could trust Aiden—couldn’t she? He loved her. And he promised they’d get through this together. She would take her father’s advice. She would leave New York. But she had to see this through first. She had to see Vincent Moralli get the punishment he deserved. When it was over, then she’d decide where to go, where to begin her new life, because truthfully, it was just too painful to stay here anymore—safe or not.

Ryann exited the file and opened the one below it. Hope bloomed in her chest, her pulse quickening with excitement when she realized what she was reading. This was it!—the file that would put Moralli behind bars for the rest of his life. But as she read on, her joy was short lived, like a shooting star streaking through the night. After reading through the first few pages, Ryann’s optimism began to sink like the mighty
Titanic
.

“Oh, no . . .” she whispered as she read on. Each page was more damning than the last. “Oh, Daddy, how could you do this?” By the time she read through the end of the document, despair gripped her heart. What was she going to do? How was she going to tell Aiden the truth? She didn’t have long to think, because a moment later the bedroom door opened.