In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 4

  Pen stood in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine before settling in for a night of binge-watching Gilmore Girls. It was Vi’s favorite show and she’d been nagging Pen for months to watch it. Now was as good a time to start as any. Normally, she wouldn’t have been caught dead at home so early on a weekend night, and in her fuzzy bunny slippers, no less. She’d have been out hitting the clubs, partying it up, because if Pen was being honest, she didn’t particularly enjoy the silence of her own company. She much preferred the distraction of a live band, sweaty bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, and pretty much anything with rum in it.

  But she felt off—her mojo lacking—and she blamed Kyle and his harassing text messages for her reclusive mood. If she’d had any idea he was going to pull a Fatal Attraction on her, she never would have brought the guy home. Of course, the one time she broke her own rule, and look what happened. What the hell was that guy’s problem anyway? He’d seemed so normal, and he’d passed all her safety checks. Successful?—check. Handsome?—check. References?—check. Not that successful, sexy guys who hung out with a group of friends couldn’t be total douchebags, but for what Pen wanted them for, personality was not a prerequisite. She wasn’t looking for Mr. Perfect. A one-night-only round of hot, sweaty sex was all she wanted.

  What she was concerned about was not turning into a skin-suit. With her three-check process and genre of men she typically gravitated toward, the odds were in her favor. She was generally a great judge of character. Working in a psychiatrist’s office, Pen was exposed to enough of the abnormal to know when a guy was off, so how had she misjudged Kyle so badly?

  As the Moscato filled her glass, the doorbell rang and she startled, spilling the wine over the rim. “Shit,” she muttered, grabbing a towel to wipe up the mess before heading to the door. She glanced out the window and recognized Nikko’s car in the driveway. What was he doing here?

  Pen opened the door and was surprised to find another fighter standing on her doorstep. It took a few seconds to find her voice and she used that time to study him—blond hair, cut close on the sides and left long on top. His square jaw was hard, just like the rest of him. The man was all sharp angles and smooth muscle.

  Her response to him was more visceral than rational. The effect he had on her—the way her pulse quickened at the sight of him, because it wasn’t fear that had her blood pumping through her veins, though it very well should have been. As concerning as all those text messages had been, she counted herself lucky to have discovered he was an obsessive creep early on, or she might have found herself breaking her own rule and inviting the guy in for a repeat performance of the previous night.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Her grip on the door instinctively tightened and she shifted her weight, bracing the ball of her foot against the base. Not that it would do a lot of good. They guy was huge. If he wanted inside, she wasn’t keeping him out.

  Kyle took a step closer, and that was when she noticed the discoloring on his jaw, and his prominent limp. “What the hell happened to you?” It was surprise that had her asking, definitely not concern.

  He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sparring injury. It’s nothing. I uhh…” His bright blue gaze swept over her and his explanation stalled. “Think I forgot my wallet here. I didn’t realize it was missing until I got to the hospital and didn’t have my insurance card. Mind if I come in and take a look?”

  As a matter of fact, she did mind. After the harassing messages he’d sent, telling her that he missed her and how much he wanted to see her, then demanding to know where she was and why she wasn’t answering him, Pen wasn’t letting this guy inside her house. “I’ll go look for it,” she told him, closing the door in his face before he could argue. Just for good measure, she slid the chain-lock into place and then headed for her bedroom to do a quick search. She seriously doubted his wallet was here. If Kyle was looking for a way to get into the house and catch her unaware, this would have been the perfect excuse. In fact, she’d bet he—

  Well, shit… There it was, lying on the floor, the black corner peeking out from beneath the bed.

  Pen bent down and grabbed his wallet. This time, when she opened the door, she kept the chain in place, cracking it the necessary distance to fit the wallet through. “Here you go.”

  Kyle hesitated a moment before taking it and studied her through the crack in the door. “You all right?” He sounded more wary than concerned. Like she was the one acting weird.

  “Of course I am,” she snapped defensively. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You seem… I don’t know…a bit jumpy.”

  “I’m in a hurry. I was just heading out,” she lied, because the last thing she wanted was for him to think she would be sitting alone all night.

  Kyle’s brow arched as he made another slow head-to-toe down her body. That stare should not have warmed all those places she’d officially deemed hands-off. Apparently, her libido hadn’t gotten the memo that this guy’s pass on the Pen train had expired.

  “In pajamas and fuzzy pink bunny slippers? Starting a new trend then, are ya?”

  When she didn’t respond, he grumbled “whatever” and dismissed her, shoving his wallet into the pocket of his gym shorts. Turning away, he muttered something about women lying to him as he slowly limped down the front step. Her gaze followed him as he rounded Nikko’s car and gingerly climbed into the passenger side before slamming the door. She only watched to make sure he was really leaving. It had nothing to do with the fantastic view his backside presented. Nope. Absolutely nothing at all…

  It didn’t take a genius to know something was wrong with Pen. The woman who’d answered the door this evening was not the same one who’d taken him back to her place for the hottest sex of his life. This woman was withdrawn and guarded. Something had spooked her, and if he didn’t have all the shit with his sister going on, he might have tried to talk to her about it—not that she seemed keen for his company.

  And what was with the door locks? Maybe he should call Del Toro and have him check on her. Grabbing his cell, he shot off a quick text to the fighter, asking him to drop by and make sure she was all right. Not that Kyle knew her well, but Pen’s behavior was odd enough to make him concerned. Though he had no clue why he cared so much. He had more than enough on his plate with Willow, and with the upcoming fight that very likely wouldn’t happen because his knee was seriously jacked, and then there was the whole Campoli parole hearing.

  The last thing he had time for was a woman who obviously didn’t want him around. Maybe this was proof he was a sucker for punishment—one feisty, independent woman in his life was more than enough torture. And yet, when his mind wasn’t ruminating on the clusterfuck that went down with Regan, he couldn’t seem to steer his thoughts away from the beautiful Penelope Cantrel.

  Attempting to do just that, Kyle opened the freezer door, grabbed a bag of peas, and sat at the kitchen table, propping his leg on the opposite chair. Balancing the frozen vegetables on the swollen joint, his temper simmered on a slow boil as he replayed the day’s events.

  As furious as he was with Willow, he was equally angry at himself for being so blind. He should have known better than to trust Regan with her. He’d given the guy too much credit in assuming their friendship meant more to him than his cock. He was going to break Willow’s heart. Just wait and see. It was only a matter of time before Regan’s notorious wandering eye strayed, and then what would she be left with? Devastation, that’s what. And who was going to have to pick up those pieces? That’s right…him.

  And yet, Kyle couldn’t even be mad at her for falling for the guy’s charm, because, shit, he’d seen how Matthews operated. If the cage-bangers couldn’t resist him, how in the hell could an inexperienced, innocent girl like Willow ever manage it? Prime for the picking—that’s what she’d been. Of course she’d get pulled into that cocksucker’s seduction.

  He’d failed. After all those years of trying to prot
ect his baby sister, he’d failed her. Somewhere deep inside, part of him had always known it would happen, no matter how hard he tried, or how careful he’d been. And today was that day. He’d let himself down, he’d let Willow down, and what killed him the most…he’d let his parents down. Shit, they were probably rolling over in their graves. His job had been to shelter her and he’d failed miserably. No, he didn’t blame Willow for her mistake, but what Kyle couldn’t get over, what ripped his heart out, was that she’d lied to him about it—for six fucking months.

  Exhaling a sigh, Kyle braced his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands, attempting to ward off the headache that nothing was gonna dull except a bottle of Jäg. When he heard the keys rattle in the front door, his pulse kicked up, adrenaline adding fuel to his fire as he sat there waiting for his sister dearest to work up the courage to walk through that door and face him.

  Seconds passed. Her keys clanged in the dish on the table beside the front door as it closed with a soft click. Her footsteps grew closer, her voice tentative as she called out, “Kyle?”

  He didn’t move, didn’t look up, not trusting himself to speak. He could feel the moment she entered the kitchen, her nervous energy a palpable presence. Willow’s cold front of anxiety was clashing with the heatwave of his anger, turning the air between them volatile and unstable—tornadic.

  “Kyle, talk to me.” Willow’s steps drew closer. The chair across from him scraped on the linoleum. “You’re starting to scare me,” she whispered.

  His head snapped up and they locked eyes. No way. No way was he going to fall victim to those tears. “You lied to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Breaking his stare, she focused on her hands folded tightly on the table.

  That was it? That was all she had to say? “You fucking lied to me!” He slammed his fist on the table and she startled, her tear-filled gaze shooting back to his. “The two people I loved more than anyone in this entire world have been lying to me for over half a goddamn year!”

  “Would you have let me see him if I’d been honest with you from the beginning?” she challenged.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “And yet you sit here looking surprised I didn’t tell you.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Willow. He might have been my best friend, but he is nowhere near good enough for you!”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But you don’t know him like I do.”

  Her retort did nothing more than piss him off. He’d sheltered her for too long. It was about time she heard the truth of it. “I’ve partied with the guy while he was getting his dick sucked by some cage-banger on the couch right next to me. I’d say I know him pretty fucking well.”

  She grimaced at the imagery he unapologetically painted in her mind. “I don’t want to hear about this, Kyle. You’re just being mean.”

  Not mean. It’s called tough love, sweetheart, because that’s goddamn reality. “I’m just being real. You think I’m making this shit up? You deserve better, Willow.”

  She stood and, for a moment, he thought she was going to walk out. But then she began to pace the kitchen. “I deserve better than someone who loves me?” she shot back. “Who treats me better than I could possibly imagine? Who loves this family and has been a part of it for as long as I can remember?”

  She was digging her heels in. There was going to be no reasoning with her. Kyle shot to his feet and cut her off mid-stride. “You deserve better than a whoring MMA fighter that loves his booze almost as much as he loves pussy!”

  She moved so fast, he felt the sting before he heard the crack of her palm against his cheek. She hit him. He couldn’t believe she just hit him! Fury burned through Kyle, crackling and spitting like a lit wick of dynamite as she yelled, “That isn’t Regan anymore, Kyle! That’s you! Why can’t you be happy for me? He’s your best friend—”

  “Not anymore he isn’t!” Kyle exploded. “A best friend doesn’t go behind his friend’s back and fuck his little sister! You know what? I’m actually looking forward to getting into the octagon with that bastard now. Then I can beat the shit out of him without going to jail!”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  Oh yes, he did. He was serious as a damn heart attack. “I do. And I don’t want you seeing him anymore, Willow. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you at that gym anymore!”

  “You want me to quit my job?” she cried, sounding dumbfounded, shocked, and indignant all at the same time. “Kyle, whether you want to accept it or not, I am an adult. I’m free to make my own decisions. I can work where I want and I can see whomever I want!”

  If he wasn’t so furious, he might have been aware that the tornado building between them was about to touch down and cause irreparable damage. But even then, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to hold back the words that came flying out of his mouth. “Not as long as you’re living under this roof.”

  Touchdown… And the path that F-5 was taking cut a trail of destruction right through their relationship. If he had any doubt, it was confirmed when she said, “Then I guess I will no longer be living under this roof. I’ll give Dean my resignation in the morning.” Shit…

  She stepped past him and headed to her room.

  The regret barreling into him was swift and instantaneous. “Goddammit, Willow.” He started after her and his knee buckled, sharp pain shooting up his leg and nailing him in the groin. Pushing through the pain, because he was an expert at that, he set after Willow, his steps doing a pretty fine rendition of Quasimodo as he headed down the hall.

  Kyle stood in the doorway. Bracing his arms above the frame, he shifted his weight to his uninjured leg. His mind was spinning with words he could say to undo the damage he’d wrought. But before he could assemble a half-assed apology, the door flew open and there she was, standing in front of him with tears in her eyes and her duffle bag tossed over her shoulder.

  Guilt slammed into him like a sucker-punch to the gut.

  “Excuse me,” she mumbled softly, stepping forward to squeeze past him.

  “Come on, Willow.” Kyle caught her arm and tried to pull her to a stop. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  She seemed to hesitate, and for a moment, he thought she would stay. But then she gently extracted her arm from his grip and put one foot in front of the other, heading for the door. Stopping with her hand on the knob, she looked over her shoulder. “You know what, Kyle? I get that we should have told you right away. And Regan wanted to, he really did, but I wouldn’t let him. You can’t blame him for that, because he was just respecting my wishes. For lying to you, I’m heartbroken and so sorry. But I can’t, I won’t, apologize for loving Regan. He’s so good to me, and if you want to know the truth, I’ve loved him ever since I was a little girl. Mom knew it, and she was okay with it, so in all fairness, I don’t see how you can’t be.”

  That’s because Mom knew him before he turned into a manwhore. “I told you why.”

  “And I’ve told you he’s changed.”

  Kyle shook his head. “He’s not good enough for you.”

  “No one will ever be good enough for me in your eyes, and for that I love you and I hate you.”

  Before he could respond, she walked out the door, taking his heart right along with her. If this was what it was like to have kids, then he was getting a vasectomy, because he had no interest in ever going through this again.

  Chapter Five

  Unbelievable… Vi was bailing on her. They’d had these plans for weeks, and minutes before Pen was ready to walk out the door, her bestie called to cancel. Truth, it sucked to be cast aside for some guy—even if that guy happened to be Nikko Del Toro—and she was trying hard not to be put out about it. Though Violet hadn’t said as much, Pen had easily ascertained the motivation that had her friend canceling their girls’ night out. Given the choice between going clubbing and hooking up with the cagey fighter, Pen would have picked the latter too.

  And speaking of fighters, she hadn’
t heard from or seen Kyle since she’d blocked his number on her cell. Which was a relief, because she had started to get concerned he was going to become a problem. Guess it went to show that people weren’t always what they seemed, and his infatuation, albeit short-lived, had been a prime example.

  Refusing to spend another night sitting at home watching Gilmore Girls, Pen called an Uber to take her to The Rush. Just because Vi was otherwise occupied, didn’t mean she couldn’t still go out and have a good time. As she arrived, she checked in on Facebook, confident she’d have some friends out there looking to have a good time.

  Sure enough, within an hour, a couple of people she knew walked in and Pen was sipping margaritas with her peeps and hitting the dance floor. The band was fantastic, the music loud and fast-paced. She was having a great time, until the fine hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle with the sensation of being watched. She searched the crowd for watchful eyes, but saw no familiar faces.

  “You all right?” Travis called over the thumping base when he noticed she was no longer moving in sync with the beat.

  Painting on a carefree smile, she said, “Yeah, I’m just going to go use the bathroom. One too many margaritas.” Which was true, but she wasn’t so lit she couldn’t hear her instincts telling her something wasn’t right. “I’ll be right back.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond before weaving her way through the crowd. As she broke free from the throng of sweaty bodies, she stumbled forward, coming to a stop in front of a table. When she locked eyes with the guy sitting there, a gorgeous woman wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, all thoughts of her own self-preservation went flying out the window.

  You douchebag.

  And she would have told him so if Travis hadn’t come up behind her and ushered Pen toward the bathrooms. Sure, he was just being a gentleman, making sure she got there safely, but he had no idea what he was dragging her away from. It took her a few minutes to extricate herself from his unhelpful and unnecessary escort, and by the time she made it back through the crowd, the table was empty.