7. Killian

KILLIAN

M addox’s brother, Rome, straddles heavyweight and welterweight, but he’s one hell of a sparring partner no matter what weight he’s sitting at. Today, we stand across from each other, waiting for my father’s go, and the psychopath smiles around his black mouthguard when we get it. “With your shield?—”

“Or on your shield,” I finish, we tap knuckles, and I step to my right, knowing Rome is going to come at my weak left shoulder. My sparring partners don’t go light on me. It doesn’t do either of us any good.

The air from the missed hit flurries by my face. Rotating with fast feet, I get him with a one-two hook, nailing his jaw. The crazy fucker smiles as his head snaps back.

“Head in the game, Killer,” Dad yells, and we keep going. This is fun for us. People ask all the time why we do it... why we put our bodies through it when there’s a fifty-fifty chance you’ll lose every time you step in the cage. What they don’t realize is there’s no fifty-fifty chance. We train harder every day than everyone else in this industry so when we step in that cage, we know without a doubt we’re going to win. We don’t slack off between fights. We don’t go easy and get fat and lazy. We fight, take a few days to heal, and then we’re back here training again. Cade St. James won’t accept less. And while we might all bitch about his methods, there’s no bitching about the results.

Hands up and shoulders curved, he advances.

“To the mat, Killer.” Dad’s voice is loud enough to drown out everything else, but somehow, I still manage to hear my name and the delicate voice it comes from just before I take a fist to the jaw and get thrown back against the cage.

Fuck.

We break apart, and I see Lilah walking over to us. There’re no leggings today. She’s dressed in jeans that mold to her hips like they were made to cup her ass and black patent-leather high heels, high enough to make a man think about all the things he wants to do to her with those damn shoes on. A white button-down shirt makes her look just a little bit like a naughty librarian and definitely looks sexier than it should, which makes my brain hurt and my dick hard.

“Goddamn, Lilah Ryan would look so pretty on her knees,” Rome whispers, and I swing my fist with no finesse and knock him out.

Oops .

“Killer—” Dad yells as Lilah steps up to the mat, careful not to step on it in her shoes.

Good girl.

She remembers.

“Sorry.” I spit my mouthguard out. “I need a few minutes.”

I don’t wait to get my ass chewed out, even though I know it’s coming. And that shit’s definitely coming.

“Hi, Mr. St. James. It’s good to see you,” she says sweetly.

He takes in where she stands and the respect she just showed by not walking on the mats in her fancy red-soled shoes and groans. “Ten minutes, Killian. Don’t keep him longer than that, Lilah.”

“I won’t.” She smiles her sweetest smile, and Dad melts. Lilah has that effect on people. She always has.

I press my hand against the small of her back and urge her forward.

She goes with it but steels her spine under my touch. “Where are you taking me?”

“Brynlee’s office. She’s not here right now.” We move into the back of the gym and step inside one of the few rooms in this building that has a door.

“Wow... Your dad expanded,” she whispers, and pride swells in my chest. This place has been in my family for two generations. I was raised here, and I want to raise my own kids here... one day.

“Yeah. Everyone wants to be trained by the best, and Dad and Hudson are the best.” I close the door and watch her examining the pictures framed on Brynlee’s wall. She’s buying time. She wants to talk but not until she’s ready. There’s never been any rushing Lilah. She doesn’t play that way. “You doing okay, princess?”

“I hate that nickname.” The words don’t have the same strength they did the last time I saw her.

“No, you don’t,” I say more gently than last night. “Why are you here, Lilah?”

Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep inhale, and giant diamond stud earrings glint under the harsh fluorescent light when she finally spins around. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?”

Her eyes are so blue you’d think contacts made them that color, but they’re all her.

They get darker when she cries, but she never lets anyone see that.

At least she didn’t used to.

Long, black lashes kiss her cheeks as she closes her eyes, seemingly gathering her strength. Every muscle in my body contracts. This girl is about to ask me for something, it’s written in every tightly held line of her body, and she hasn’t asked me for anything in so damn long.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and it kills me to hear it like that. Hear her like that.

“Every fucking word.”

She paces Brynlee’s office like a wild animal, desperate to break its confines. “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you, St. James.”

Those words sting as much today as they did a decade ago, but this clusterfuck of a situation might finally be my chance to right a fucking wrong and fix it all. “You never hated me, princess, and this changes everything.”

A million emotions flash across her beautiful face before she settles on a sad smile I can’t stand to see. “You broke me once, Killian. I won’t let you do that again.”

“Then why trust me with this?” I step up into her space, tired of this bullshit dance we’re dancing and take her hand in mine. “Why come to me if you hate me as much as you claim to?” When she doesn’t answer, I close the distance between us. “Because I don’t think you ever really hated me. You hated yourself. You hated what happened. And yeah, you hated my part in it. But I’m gonna bet you never hated me. And now, I’m the only one who can protect you. Karma’s a bitch, princess.”

Fire erupts in her cheeks, and her eyes glitter with anger.

Mission accomplished.

I can handle pissed-off Lilah. Broken Lilah isn’t an option.

“But here’s the thing...” I take my life in my hands and cup her face, praying she doesn’t kick me in the balls. “Deep down, you know no one in this world will keep you as safe as I will. Some things don’t change, no matter how many years and how big a distance. And that will never change. That’s why you’re standing here.”

She gently pulls my hands away from her face. “I’m standing here because if I didn’t agree to increased security, they weren’t going to let me finish my tour, and I refuse to tell tens of thousands of fans that I’m canceling the rest of the stops on my tour. I’m not letting someone else dictate my career when I’ve been the one busting my ass for it for ten years. I’m standing here because you offered, and I’d rather deal with the devil I know. So I guess I need to know if you were serious last night.”

“As a heart attack,” I snap. No second-guessing. No fear. No question.

She nods and turns away from me, and the loss of contact shouldn’t feel like this. It’s not even physical contact. It’s the loss of her gaze on me that feels fucking cold.

“Do you think you could spend a few nights at my place? It’s just... Noah moved back into his own place today. Mainly because I forced him ...” she mumbles the last sentence under her breath. “And the label agreed to you, if you stay close. I told them you were the only one I wanted inside my house.”

Knowing that shouldn’t make me feel like a fucking king.

But it does.

I move behind her, careful not to touch. “I’ll be there tonight after training.”

“Killian—” She spins and bounces right against my chest. Her hands press against my abs, and my hands steady her shoulders. “Why would you do this? What’s in it for you?”

Fuck, she’s so pretty when she forgets she hates me.

She’s pretty damn gorgeous when she remembers it too.

Fuck.

“Because it’s you. I’d do anything for you, Lilah.” Always would. Some things you know deep in your soul won’t ever change. Loving Lilah Ryan in one way or another was never going to change for me. Maybe this is my chance to change it for her... Maybe.

“Not anything, champ.” She reaches her hand up like she’s going to touch my face but drops it instead. “My assistant set up a meal service for me. If you text me what you like to eat, I’ll make sure we’re stocked.”

“I’m in training?—”

“Chicken and brown rice?” she asks, and I nod. “Broccoli? Salmon? Protein shakes?”

“Yeah . . .” Fuck . . . she remembers.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you tonight. We can talk about everything then.” Lilah steps around me. “Please apologize to your dad for me. I didn’t mean to interrupt your training.”

I shrug, and she smiles. “I mean, it looked like Rome was kicking your ass, so maybe I was helping you.”

“Rome wasn’t winning, princess.” Fuck that. She saw one move. One distraction that she caused.

“Whatever you’ve gotta tell yourself to sleep at night, St. James. I’ll make sure Noah’s bed has clean sheets to lie to yourself in.” She giggles as she opens the door.

“Already worried about where I’m going to be sleeping, huh? Should I be worried about my virtue?” I tease her. This is where we find common ground. Always did.

“Your virtue was shredded years ago, Killian. Try not to take mine with it, okay? I’ve got a brand to live up to.” She wiggles her fingers and pulls the door closed behind her.

Her virtue is still . . . intact?

What the hell does that mean, and why am I ravenous to find out for myself?

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.