18. Killian

KILLIAN

“ R emind me why I’m here when I could still be in bed with a hot redhead?” Rome grunts as he brings his knee up but misses when I sidestep. The fucker stumbles, and I smile.

“Because you’re a twisted fuck who loves to fight,” Hudson yells from outside the cage. “Now shut up and focus.”

The psycho salutes, and I tune out whatever Hudson and Dad say when I see my chance.

Sloppy asshole.

I grab his arm and drop to my back.

We learned arm bars twenty years ago, and this dumb ass still didn’t see it coming.

“Tap, asshole,” I growl while I squeeze my legs around him, hips off the floor, and his arm hyperextended.

Tight.

Tighter.

“Tap.”

“Never,” he wheezes.

Tighter.

“Fuck, no.”

I lock him down, my muscles screaming from the exertion, and he finally gives in seconds before we both roll flat, starfishing against the mats.

“Goddamn, I hate you,” Rome bitches as he tests out his shoulder, making sure I didn’t pop it out. I didn’t. Big fucking baby.

I bridge up and jump to my feet, then pull him up too. “Told you to tap.”

We walk over to Hudson and Dad, who are both smiling for a change. “Good effort today, guys.” Dad crosses his arms and waits for us to climb down the steps. “We’ve got some news.”

“Oh yeah?” I have no idea where he’s going with this, but he’s smiling, and he rarely smiles during training. Then I realize he’s not smiling at me.

“You think you’re ready, Rome?”

“Ready?” My typically cocky cousin has a moment of hesitation before his crazy kicks in. “No fucking way. I’ve got a fight?”

Damn. He’s worked his ass off for this for years.

“Welterweight in Atlantic City in April.” Dad smacks his back. “You earned it, kid.”

“Fucking right, I did. Now, let’s go celebrate.”

“Celebrate after you win, psycho.” Hudson points between us. “Wins are built in the gym. You’ve got two hours of conditioning left.”

Rome rubs his hand together like a cartoon villain. “I vote for conditioning at Lilah’s house.”

“I don’t want to know. Just get it done,” Dad tells us before he walks away.

Hudson, however, looks intrigued. “Do I want to know?”

Rome bounces on the balls of his feet with excitement. “Dude. I heard a rumor Dillan’s been at her house, helping her with shit lately. Have you seen Dillan Ryan’s ass? I’d tap that in a heartbeat.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking lucky people are scared of your dad, or you’d be dead already,” Hudson grumbles.

“They should be more scared of Mom,” Rome corrects him, and I shove his back.

“Stay the fuck away from Dillan. There’s a ton of shit going on in that family right now. They don’t need your brand of trouble too.”

“Does that go for you too, Killer?” The look Hudson gives me tells me he already knows the answer, but the dick asks anyway.

“Nobody told me to stay away.” I pull the wraps from my hand and shove them into my pockets, then grab a towel.

“Walk with me, kid.” Hudson doesn’t wait for an answer because it wasn’t a question. He crosses the mats and heads upstairs to the yoga studio Dad installed a few years ago and starts cleaning up what was tossed aside after the sunrise class earlier. “Have you given any thought to what comes after this next fight?”

“One fight at a time, Uncle. You know the rules.” Truth is, I haven’t. It’s been a struggle just to stay focused on the fight in front of me with everything else that’s been going on.

“You’re twenty-six, Killer. You need to start thinking about what comes next, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t point that out. Rome’s fighting welterweight this year, but if he bulks up like he wants to, he’s going to be heavyweight real soon. You’ve got a few years left of this, if you’re lucky and stay healthy. I need you to start thinking ahead. By the time I was your age, Sawyer and I were already establishing our real estate venture. Because, believe it or not, you’re not going to want to put your body through this forever.”

It feels like he just dropped a ten-ton bomb in my lap, and I’m staring at one blue cord and one red one, trying to decide which to cut to stop time from ticking down. “I’m twenty-six, not forty-six. I’ve got time.”

“It feels like that today. But that switch is going to flip fast, Killer. I just want you to be prepared when it does. It might be ten years from now, or it could be ten months from now. Start thinking about it. Start making plans, even if you don’t tell a soul. At least you’ll have ideas.” He hands me an empty water bottle. “And keep an eye on Rome for me. I swear he’s gonna get himself killed.”

“Yeah well, if he fucks around with Dillan, I’ll do it myself.” Damn, Lilah would be so pissed.

“I always thought you had a thing for the other Ryan sister.” He knows I do. Asshole . “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Might want to get your house in order, Killian. Pretty women with brains and confidence don’t like to be dicked around.”

“Nobody’s getting dicked around.” I fail to mention that’s because we’ve barely spoken since her birthday and everything that came after. She comes with me here every morning and leaves with Xander every afternoon. She’s basically become a shut-in, and it feels wrong. Like she’s become a prisoner in her own world, and I don’t know how the hell to help her.

“Whatever you say,” Hudson taunts. “Are you bringing Lilah to the Kingston Foundation event, or are you flying solo?”

When I don’t answer him, he curses. “Listen up, nephew. You’ve got way too many moving pieces in your life to be getting ready for a fight next month. Get it together. Claim the girl or don’t. Make plans for a life after fighting or fight until you’ve got a walker. I don’t care either way. I just want to see you happy, and I gotta tell you, I don’t think you are. Figure it out.”

He walks away, and I’m left standing, unbalanced, like I just took a roundhouse kick to the skull. What the fuck? I’m happy. I live a fucking fantastic life.

I do what I want.

When I want.

I’m the goddamned heavyweight champion.

I work hard, enjoy my life, and?—

And what?

Lilah’s beautiful face flashes in front of me.

And what . . . ?

And it can all go away in the blink of an eye.

Fuck. I hate when he’s right.

Get my house in order.

It’s time.

M y stomach growls as I walk into Lilah’s later that afternoon. The scent of garlic and onions and tomatoes wafts through the house, followed by little girl giggles.

“You gotta put salt in the water, Aunt Tink.”

“Fuck, our girl can cook too?” Rome smacks my chest and pushes past me, on a mission for the kitchen, and I yank him back by his shirt.

“My girl, you stupid son of a bitch.”

The crazy shit’s smile stretches across his whole face. There’s a reason he’s been called a psycho since he was a kid. And that smile is the reason. “Took you long enough, Killer.”

“She can’t cook. That smell and that voice means Maverick’s here,” I tell him as I push him behind me.

“No shit, dumbass. That smell is Nonna’s sauce, and only a few of us have that recipe. Now get out of my way. I don’t have to watch weight for my fight yet, and I’m starving.”

“We’ve got to do conditioning,” I warn him while my stomach tries to eat itself.

Damn, that smells so good.

“Food first. Condition after.”

I let him go and follow him into the kitchen, where Mav, Lilah, and Dillan are following Rosie’s instructions on how to make the perfect pasta.

“Ladies.” Rome salutes before he walks over to the sink and washes his hands, then shows them to Rosie for inspection. “Look. No peanut butter.”

She smiles and nods, then reaches her arms up for a hug.

“I keep telling you it’s gross, Rome.”

He sits her on his hip and laughs. “I know, but I love it.”

“Did you eat it today?” She asks and smiles when he tells her no, then kisses his cheek.

But it’s not Rosie’s smile that could knock me over.

It’s Lilah’s.

It’s the way she watches the interaction. With longing. Though I’m not sure for what.

Maverick grabs the plates from the cabinet like it’s his house. “You two eating dinner?”

“Yes,” Rome answers as I say, “No.”

“Aww, don’t be a party pooper, Killer,” Dillan teases as she places a wooden salad bowl on the kitchen table. “Rosie just taught us how to make Nonna’s sauce.”

When my eyes find Lilah’s, so damn soft and hesitant, it just about kills me.

Like she wants something, but she’s scared to ask for it.

“Yeah, champ. Don’t be a party pooper,” she whispers, and I’m done for. It’s the closest she’s come to asking me for anything since she asked me to protect her.

“Okay,” I give in and watch Lilah’s teeth graze over her lip in an attempt to hide her smile. “But I think Rome should have to do the dishes.”

“What?” he sputters. “Why me?”

“Yup,” I steal Rosie from him and kiss the top of her head.

“Because we cooked,” Maverick hands Rome the plates and grabs a pitcher of water.

“Killian didn’t cook,” he argues.

“Killian lives here,” Lilah says softly. “He gets a pass. Now eat before it gets cold.”

I look over the top of Rosie’s head at this woman who never stops surprising me, but she looks away.

Yeah... It’s long past time I do something about this.

T here’s a knock about working out in Lilah’s gym.

Knowing she’s upstairs.

In one way, it’s a good thing. I know she’s safe.

In another way, it’s torture—because I know she’s upstairs.

Mav and Rosie stuck around until Rosie started yawning.

Rome and Dillan left separately just after that.

Not that Rome didn’t try to leave together, but Dillan shot that shit down.

It was epic.

It was also good for me. I don’t need Rome for conditioning. I’ve never needed anyone to tell me to get it done. It’s part of the job, and it’s part of what makes me the best. What made it hard to keep going tonight was the piano playing that replaced my normal playlist because once I heard it, there was no way I was putting my headphones on. Not when I could listen to that... to her instead.

And once I’m finally done, it takes all my strength to leave Lilah alone.

I force myself to go up to my room and shower.

I don’t interrupt her.

I don’t want to fuck with her process.

Not when it sounds like it’s working.

Instead, I pull out my phone and pull up my text thread, then let my thumb hover over Noah’s name with Maddox’s advice from weeks ago stuck in my mind.

Killian

I’m in love with your sister.

Noah

Yeah... and? You have been for about 20 years. You gonna finally get off your ass and do something about it?

Killian

Yup. Just wanted you to know.

Noah

Good. When you’re done going all Romeo on her, can you put in a good word for me?

Killian

We’ll see if she even listens to me.

Noah

Is she doing okay?

Killian

How about you come here tomorrow and ask her yourself.

Noah

She doesn’t want me to do that.

Killian

I think you might be surprised.

She’s been on the piano for hours.

Noah

It’s a start.

Killian

Yeah.

I shut my phone off and leave it on my nightstand.

I’m done waiting.

By the time I get to her piano room, the music has stopped, and she’s jotting something down in another pink notebook. Always pink for my girl. But when she looks up, something cracks in my chest. “Jesus, you’re beautiful, Lilah.”

She blushes and closes her notebook. Her long blonde curls spill over her creamy, freckled shoulders, and a long red silk slip of a nightgown skims her body. The snow that started hours ago casts an ethereal glow, but it doesn’t hold a candle to her smile.

“I finished the song,” she whispers reverently.

“Oh yeah?” I cross the room in fast strides, needing to be closer. “What’s it called?”

“Red Lips & White Lies.” Her long lashes flutter when I stop in front of her. “I guess I was inspired by all the liars in my life.”

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