Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) (6 page)

God help her, she was going to hell for this.

CHAPTER

 6 

Y
ou lost again, Gingersnap?”

If anyone could make an endearment sound derogatory, it was this man—of all the fucking luck. Ryann knew she was taking a chance showing back up at the gym, considering the whole “no girls allowed” thing. But when she’d gone back to the Mirage this morning to look for Aiden, the woman at the front desk had informed her he’d already checked out—in the middle of the night—which made zero sense. The chatty woman had gone on to confide in her that his room had sustained several thousand dollars’ worth of damages, and they’d had to hire a cleaning crew to remove bloodstains from the carpet and the furniture.

What the hell had he done? At the thought that he might have hurt himself, a band of guilt tightened around her chest. She needed to see him, to apologize for their misunderstanding and try one final time to reason with the man before he forced her to do something they’d both regret.

The fighter Aiden had called Del Toro turned from the heavy bag he’d been beating the shit out of and ambled over to her. He moved with a fighter’s powerful grace that reminded her a lot of Aiden. The fight-or-flight instinct kicking adrenaline into her bloodstream was telling her to run. She forced herself to stay, holding her ground. But when the fighter finally stopped, he was much too close for comfort—so close she could smell that salty tang of clean male sweat and feel the heat radiating off his body like an inferno.

Propping his forearm on the doorway, he leaned closer and inhaled deeply. Was he . . . smelling her? Ryann took a reflexive step back, and the man smiled—if that was what you’d call that flash of straight white teeth. Again, the thought hit her that this man might be handsome, but her self-preservation instincts prevented her from seeing past his scars or those silver-gray eyes that effectively hid any and all emotion, making him look more animal than man.

Clearing her throat, she notched her chin in defiance to her railing nerve and forced the air from her lungs to speak. “I’m looking for Aiden. Is he here?”

“Nope. Disco left town last night.”

He what?
“Do you know where he went?”

“If I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you, sweetheart. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the first cage banger to come chasing after that one.”

Cage banger? This guy thinks . . . that I . . . that we . . . God, how embarrassing . . .

“Disco doesn’t do long-term. Save yourself a lot of trouble and go find another cock to rock, huh?”

Okay, now she was pissed. Ryann crossed her arms over her chest, holding her ground and raised a brow defiantly. “And I suppose you’re offering, is that it?”

The man actually smiled, a hint of humor lighting his eyes that, on closer inspection, held little flecks of silver and sapphire. She’d been right, he was handsome. Not in the in-your-face, panty-dropping way Aiden was, but in a very rough, primal, testosterone-charged way. This man exuded masculine prowess like she couldn’t believe.

“Sorry, babe, I don’t do clingy any more than Disco does, though I have always had a thing for redheads.”

“You’re a pig.” The rebuttal was out of her mouth before she had a chance to call it back or consider the wisdom of baiting a man twice her size.

He laughed. The asshole actually laughed!

“You keep sweet-talking me, and I might just reconsider. With a mouth like that, I bet you could suck some c—”

She reacted. Instantaneous and reflexive, Ryann swung for his face. But the man was fast, catching her arm before her palm could connect with his cheek. He’d been baiting her this whole time, she realized, when the anger she’d expected to shadow his face didn’t come. Why was he testing her?

Before she could think too hard on it, the fighter’s eyes dropped to her bicep. All humor left his face as he stretched out her arm and rotated her wrist. “Did Disco do this to you?” The fighter’s deep voice took on a gravelly edge that sent the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

“Why would you think he did?” Was she wrong about Aiden? Did he make a habit of taking his temper out on woman?

“Because I saw you leave with him last night, and because he spent two hours in the ER this morning before hopping on a fucking plane. What in the hell went down between you two?”

She couldn’t tell if he was angry
at
her or
for
her.

“Listen, Ryann, let’s cut the shit, huh? I know you’re not what you appear to be. Tell me what you want with Disco and I might consider telling you where he is.”

For real? This guy knew her name, too? Good thing she hadn’t told that magpie Regan anything more personal about herself. Ryann considered the fighter’s request and calculated the risk of how much to say in good faith that he’d give her the answers she was looking for. After all, she was a PI. She could find Aiden on her own—problem was she was running out of time. The sooner she found him and dealt with this mess, the better.

“I was sent here to give him a message from his family. I just want to talk to him.”

“You didn’t speak last night?” Then he laughed at the absurdity of his own question. “Of course you didn’t—it’s Disco we’re talking about.”

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment at the fighter’s assumption, and just how close he’d come to guessing the truth. Oh, they’d spoken all right—eventually. “So will you tell me where he is?”

He studied her another minute, seeming contemplative.

“Somerset, Wisconsin, that’s all I know. He left with Coach early this morning. When you see him, tell him I said that’s for the busted rib.”

Seriously? She was Aiden’s punishment? Resisting the urge to stomp her foot and tell this guy what an asshole he was, she painted a false smile on her face and sweetly said, “Thank you. I’m sorry to take up your time.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, but when she turned to leave, he called after her. “Hey, Ryann?”

She stopped and glanced back at the fighter.

“Don’t let that pretty face fool you. Disco isn’t harmless. Then again, by the looks of that arm, you probably already figured that out. You want some friendly advice? Go back home to wherever you came from and forget you ever met him.”

That was probably some good, sound advice. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take it.

CHAPTER

 7 

A
iden exited the Lakeview Hospital in Somerset and headed for the parking lot. He chalked up the prickling feeling of being watched to the fact that it was twenty fucking degrees below zero. His goose bumps had goose bumps, for crissake. Why in the hell anyone would voluntarily live in this frozen wasteland was beyond him—and he’d thought New York was cold.

That Easton was actually considering leaving Vegas to move here and freeze his balls off proved either (a) he’d taken one too many shots to the head, or (b) he was so head over heels for Katie, he couldn’t think straight. Considering what those two had been through in the last thirty-six hours, he’d be willing to bet the Kruze fortune it was the latter.

After donning his lawyer cap and spending the better part of the day at the Somerset Police Department, he’d made sure no criminal charges would be filed against Cole for what had gone down here. Now that all was in the clear, and his buddy was due to be discharged from the hospital, Aiden was anxious to get back home. It’d probably take a good solid day to thaw his frozen ass out.

Not only was he craving the desert heat, but Dean Nelson, the president of the CFA, should be announcing any day now if he was in contention for the middleweight title. Thanks to Easton and Coach prepping him for his last fight, it couldn’t have gone better. His mixture of stand-up and jujitsu had given him an opportunity to showcase his diverse skill set. He hadn’t been fighting for the CFA very long, but Aiden was undefeated in his circuit, which put a title shot within his grasp.

Yeah, he was definitely antsy to get home, and his restlessness had absolutely nothing to do with a certain redhead he’d tossed from his room two nights ago. More than he was willing to admit, Ryann plagued his thoughts over these past few days, and try as he might, Aiden couldn’t seem to block out the memory of that woman melting in his arms.

How far would she have let things go to get what she wanted from him? To what lengths would she have gone, trying to convince him to return with her?—all questions that plagued him, robbing him of sleep. Of all the people his sadistic mother could have hired to track him down . . . Then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Madeline Kruze was as manipulative and crafty as they came. Of course she’d try to blindside him, and it had almost worked.

He had to give Ryann credit, she’d managed to get closer to him than the two PIs hired before her—excluding the very brief encounter that had landed the last guy in the hospital. He thought that would have sent a clear enough message to his parents to leave him the hell alone. Obviously not, since they’d sent Ryann, the seductive sacrificial lamb, into the lion’s den. How they thought a woman half his size was going to get him to go anywhere against his will was beyond him. Sheer physics doomed this mission from the start.

He did regret not fucking her before throwing her out, though. Without a doubt, that woman was the sweetest piece of ass he’d ever had his hands on. She’d caught him completely off guard with her confession, and admittedly, he hadn’t reacted well. Not one of his finer moments, that was for sure, and he had seventeen stitches in his bicep to prove it. He didn’t condone violence against women—for any reason—but Aiden was pretty sure Ryann was wearing the evidence of his temper on her arm right now. Yet, despite her deception, and as much as his wrath may have been justified, he felt bad about hurting her. Only a jackass coward would ever touch a woman in anger.

For the countless time today, Aiden shoved the beguiling ginger from his mind as he hopped into the driver’s seat and fired up the rental. He promptly shut off the heater when it began blasting him in the face with freezing air, and muttered a curse as foul as his mood. He had twelve hours to kill before his flight back to Vegas, and Marcus wasn’t coming with him. His brother had suffered a stroke this week and was still in the hospital, so he was staying in Somerset a little while longer.

There wasn’t a lot to do in the small town whose welcome sign proudly displayed the population at 2,656. Aiden preferred big-city lights, crowded bars, and loose women—the no-strings-attached kind that wanted nothing from him other than the satisfaction of a quick bump-and-grind. After the severe case of blue balls Ryann had left him with, he seriously considered getting the hell out of Dodge early and spending the night in Minneapolis. Tension ran through him like a live wire thrumming through his veins. If he didn’t blow off some steam soon, that shit was going to find another release—which usually involved his fists.

If he left now, he’d be that much closer to the airport to catch his seven a.m. flight. Yeah, that sounded like a grand idea, heading into the city and getting totally shit-faced. He’d hook up with a redheaded honey and fuck Ryann out of his system. Aiden shifted into reverse, and began backing out of the parking lot when a flash of movement caught his eye.

What the hell?
He hit the brakes and shifted the Yukon into park. Someone was running up behind him, but he couldn’t make out a face through the fogged-up window. He swiped his hand over the freezing glass and cleared a swath. Recognizing the beautiful blonde bundled in a gray plaid pea coat and furry gray Uggs, he dropped the driver’s-side window as she jogged up beside him.

“Hey, Katie Bug. What’s up?”

“Aiden, I’m glad I caught you.” Her quickened breaths billowed steam into the cold evening air, filling the cab of his SUV. The tip of her pixie nose was already pinched by the cold, her cheeks a becoming rosy red. Fucking Easton, lucky bastard . . . Hell, he’d have taken a bullet for her, too, if it meant earning the doting affection of this woman. Katrina Miller was the whole package—brains, beauty, and hot little body. Not that he was macking on his best friend’s chick or anything, but he’d have to be a blind eunuch not to notice that girl’s swag.

“I know you’re probably anxious to get going, but I was wondering if you would mind taking me back to the house so I could get a change of clothes for Cole. I haven’t been back there since . . . well, you know, and I didn’t really want to go alone. Uncle Marcus is visiting Dad right now, and I didn’t want to bother him.”

Well, so much for his plans to get ridiculously drunk and tap a little Minnesota ass. “Sure, Bug.” He gave her a no-worries Disco grin. “Hop on in.”

She skirted around to the front of the SUV and climbed into the passenger side. “You sure you don’t mind?” Katie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, casting him an anxious glance.

Aiden put the vehicle in reverse and began backing out. “I’m sure. Besides, we can’t have our boy going home in his underwear, right? A guy’s likely to freeze his balls off here.”

She laughed, some of the tension easing from her slender shoulders as she relaxed against the seat. “He may not admit it, but he’s lucky to have you, Aiden. We both are.”

“Yeah, well, ditto.”

Except for giving him directions, they spent most of the ride to her house in silence, each seemingly caught up in their own thoughts. The closer they got to their destination, the more white-knuckled
Katie’s little hands became. By the time they turned down her road, anxiety reverberated from her like a force field, and when they pulled into the driveway, his own nerves were strung tight as a drum.

“Hey.” He shifted into park and laid his hand over hers. “You all right?”

Katie’s gaze darted to his as if she’d momentarily forgotten he was here. She shook her head. “No. But I will be.”

Aiden wasn’t sure if she was fronting or if she really believed what she said. “I know what happened here, Bug. You don’t have to go in, you know. I can grab Easton’s stuff.”

She appeared to consider it a moment. This was fucked up. When he thought about what had gone down here, the terror Katie must have endured . . . This woman had been through hell.

“No, I have to go in. If I don’t do it now . . .”

“All right. I’ll come in with you.” He admired this woman’s strength. The fighter in him recognized a kindred spirit, and he respected the hell out of her for it. Getting out of the SUV, Aiden came around the passenger side and opened her door. Taking her hand, he led her up the steps and stopped in front of the door. “You sure we’re doing this?” he asked again. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“I’m sure.”

As she dug through her purse, looking for the key, Aiden glanced behind him, taking notice of his surroundings. A bare patch of ground marked the front yard where the snow had been removed. Curiosity tempted him to ask her about it, but when he glanced back, Katie’s hands were shaking so badly, she nearly failed to fit the key in the lock, and he decided right then and there to table any questions. This shit was hard enough on her the way it was, he wouldn’t risk saying anything that could make it worse.

The lock snicked and she opened the front door, hesitating a moment before stepping inside. He followed her in and closed it behind them. Turning back around, he nearly ran into her as she stood there, frozen in the entryway.

“I can’t believe it . . .” she whispered more to herself than to him. “It’s like it never happened.” Katie looked around as she slowly stepped forward, entering the living room. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was just a nightmare.”

Aiden stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a brotherly hug. “It’s over now, Katie Bug. My boy won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” She looked up at him with those tear-filled eyes, and his heart lodged in his throat. “He saved my life, Aiden.” She sniffed and swiped at the tears spilling down her cheeks.

Aww hell . . .
He hugged her tight against him, giving her a moment to pull herself together. “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, bug, but I can promise you won’t have to do it alone. Cole’s got you in this.”

She nodded against his chest. They stood there another minute before her back stiffened, shoulders tensing. He knew she was rallying her nerve, battling back more tears. This woman was a fighter. He smiled to himself as the memory of the first time they’d met came to mind. Cole was teaching her hapkido, and she’d just put the light-heavyweight champion on his ass. Yeah . . . this girl was going to be just fine.

“I won’t be very long,” she murmured, stepping out of his embrace to walk across the living room, her steps quickening with determined purpose. Aiden kept his eyes locked on her until she disappeared down the hall and into one of the bedrooms.

He entered the living room, his gaze canvassing the open floor plan. The faint scent of latex paint still hung in the air, the last remaining evidence that something bad had happened here. The eggshell walls added a modicum of coolness that bristled his nerves. The brown suede couch and matching love seat still bore the price tags hanging from the arms, as did the end table sitting between the furniture.

Refurbishing this house must have cost Easton a small fortune, not that he couldn’t afford it. The place was immaculate with a Parade of Homes, don’t-touch-anything elegance that reminded Aiden far too much of his parents’ house in Manhattan, only on a much more micro level.

Shoving his mental baggage aside, Aiden wandered into the kitchen, contemplating what kind of a sick fuck would want to hurt someone as sweet as Katrina Miller. Katie was the kind of woman that made you want to be a better man. What he wouldn’t give to have a woman look at him the way she looked at Easton. What would it be like to have someone see
him
for once and not Disco—not Sen. Bennett Kruze’s son—not the heir of the Kruze fortune—just
him
. . .

For a fraction of a moment the other night, he’d thought he might have had a chance at that with Ryann. She’d melted in his arms so sweetly. Her response to him had been so honest, so uninhibited . . .

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Katie stepped into the hallway with the strap of a CFA duffel bag slung over her shoulder. He smiled at the sight of her little self, touting Easton’s overstuffed gym bag. He had one just like it in the back seat of his rental. “Here, let me . . .” Aiden walked toward her, holding out his hand to take her burden.