Chapter 17 Riley
SEVENTEEN
RILEY
The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt like a cage closing in around Riley.
She sat rigidly on the narrow bed, her left leg elevated and wrapped in a temporary brace, fury radiating from every line of her body.
The pain medication they'd given her dulled the sharp agony in her knee to a manageable throb, but it did little to quiet the rage burning in her chest.
"Honey, you need to try to relax," her mother said softly from the chair beside the bed. Her mother's warm brown eyes were filled with concern as she reached over to squeeze Riley's hand. "Getting yourself worked up isn't going to help anything."
Riley yanked her hand away, immediately regretting the harsh movement when she saw the hurt flash across her mother's face. But the anger was too raw, too consuming to contain.
"How can I relax?" Riley's voice came out sharp enough to cut glass. "That bitch just tried to end my career, Mom. How the hell am I supposed to be calm about that?"
The memory crashed over her like a tidal wave, dragging her back to those terrifying moments in the women's locker room.
She'd been pulling on her fighting leggings, her mind still buzzing with the afterglow of the completed mate bond and the anticipation of her upcoming match.
The connection to Adrian had been humming beneath her skin like a live wire, making her feel invincible and distracted all at once.
She'd been partially bent over when the attack came.
A rush of movement from behind, then the brutal impact of Jessica Martinez's boot connecting with her knee with surgical precision.
The sickening pop of ligaments stretching beyond their limits.
The explosion of pain that had sent her crashing to the concrete floor.
But now, replaying the scene with crystal clarity, Riley remembered something else. A flash of movement in the shadows. Broad shoulders disappearing around the corner. Green eyes that had caught the fluorescent light for just a moment before vanishing.
"Darius was there," she said suddenly, her voice deadly quiet. "That son of a bitch was in the women's locker room."
Her mother frowned. "What do you mean?"
"When Jessica attacked me—I saw him. Just a glimpse, but it was him. He was watching." Riley's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles going white. "He orchestrated this whole thing."
This wasn't just about rivalry or competition anymore.
This was about power. About the threat she posed to Darius's ambitions now that she was Adrian's fully bonded mate.
He'd sensed the completed bond the moment they'd walked into the arena that morning—the change in their scents, the way they moved in perfect synchronization, the undeniable claim they now had on each other.
And he'd decided to act before she could become a bigger problem.
"He knows I make Adrian stronger," Riley continued, her voice growing harder with each word. "Two strong people leading that pride together—he can't compete with that. So he decided to lash out."
"Riley—"
"I want to find him myself," Riley snarled, trying to push herself up from the bed before her mother's firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. "I want to make him pay for what he's done to me."
"You're not going anywhere," her mother said firmly. "You're hurt, you're on pain medication, and you're not thinking clearly."
"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." Riley's brown eyes blazed with fury. "That bastard just destroyed everything I've worked for. My career, my sponsors, my reputation—"
"We don't know that yet," her mother interrupted. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves until we know what the doctor says."
Riley wanted to argue, wanted to rage against the uncertainty and the helplessness that was eating her alive from the inside.
She'd never been attacked like this before.
Sure, there were rivalries in the kickboxing world.
Verbal confrontations before matches. The occasional heated exchange in the press.
But this—this was attempted career assassination.
The door burst open, and Riley's heart leaped as Adrian filled the doorway. He looked like he'd run the entire way from the arena to the hospital—his dark auburn hair was disheveled, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and there was a wildness in his blue eyes.
"How bad is it?" he demanded, crossing the room in three quick strides to reach her bedside.
"The doctor hasn't been in yet with the results," Riley replied, automatically reaching for his hand.
The moment their fingers touched, some of the fury in her chest eased, replaced by the steady warmth of their bond.
"How did your match go?" she quickly asked, needing to know if he won or not.
Adrian's expression darkened. "That's not important right now."
Riley gave him her most stubborn look, the one that had intimidated countless opponents over the years. "It is important."
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his eyes flared with golden light. "I won in under three minutes. First round knockout."
Riley's eyebrows shot up. In all her years in the sport, she'd never heard of anyone achieving a knockout that quickly in a tournament setting. "That's... that's incredible. No one's ever—"
"I needed to get to you," Adrian said simply, his thumb stroking across her knuckles. "I channeled everything into that fight—every ounce of fury, every protective instinct. My opponent never stood a chance."
She could feel the truth of his words through their mate bond, the way his love for her had transformed into a weapon of precise destruction. "That means you're in the final match tomorrow."
Before Adrian could respond, Riley's phone rang. Cameron's name flashed on the screen, and she quickly put it on speaker.
"Riley, what's the verdict on your knee?" her sponsor asked without preamble.
"Still waiting for the doctor," Riley replied, her stomach clenching with dread.
"Well, regardless of the results, you'll need to attend a press conference tomorrow after the tournament concludes. The media is demanding answers about what happened, and we've already filed an incident report with tournament officials."
Riley's jaw tightened. "It was Jessica Martinez. She attacked me in the women's locker room."
"I'll have her arrested immediately. This kind of behavior is unacceptable in professional sports," Cameron snarled.
Riley glanced at Adrian, who was listening with the predatory stillness of a hunter. "Who's Adrian facing in the men's heavyweight final tomorrow?"
"Darius Vonn," Cameron replied.
Riley felt Adrian's satisfaction spike through their bond, a dark anticipation that made her pulse quicken. This would give him the perfect opportunity to make Darius pay for what he'd orchestrated—in a controlled setting where violence was not only acceptable but expected.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the arena then," Riley told Cameron before ending the call.
She looked up at Adrian, whose blue eyes were now fully flecked with gold. "I'll wait to do the press conference until after your final match."
"Let's just focus on your healing right now," Adrian said, his voice carefully controlled. "We can worry about everything else tomorrow."
The door opened again, and Dr. Harrison entered with Riley's chart in hand. The middle-aged physician had kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, but his expression was professionally neutral.
"Well, Miss Vaughn, you got very lucky," he said, settling into the chair across from her bed.
"It's only a partial ACL tear. However, you won't be able to compete until you've had surgery and completed a full recovery program.
The timeline varies for everyone, but we're typically looking at several months. "
Riley felt her heart sink even as relief flooded through her. Not career-ending, but devastating nonetheless. Months without competing meant lost sponsorship opportunities, diminished rankings, and the constant fear that her body might never be quite the same again.
"That's good news," her mother said quickly, squeezing Riley's shoulder. "You should be able to bounce back and be competing again in no time."
Adrian's expression had turned granite-hard. "She's not competing for a while. She needs to take her time with recovery and not rush back."
Riley wanted to argue, wanted to insist that she'd be back in the ring as soon as humanly possible.
But she could feel Adrian's fierce protectiveness through their bond, the way his tiger was demanding he keep her safe from any further harm.
And honestly, the thought of rushing back before she was truly ready terrified her more than she cared to admit.
"I'll be smart about my recovery," she said finally. "I won't rush back."
Dr. Harrison nodded approvingly before leaving to prepare her discharge paperwork. A few minutes later, a nurse arrived with a better knee brace and a pair of crutches, efficiently fitting Riley with both before handing over a stack of forms.
"I'll head to the gym now and tell Lila what happened," her mother said, gathering her purse. "And I'll see you both tomorrow for Adrian's final match."
After her mother left, Riley stood slowly with Adrian's help, his hands gentle but steady as she found her balance. He handed her the crutches, and she could see the frustration in his eyes when she stubbornly used them to make her own way to the truck.
"I'm not going to be babied," she said when she caught his expression.
Adrian's jaw ticked, but he didn't argue. Once they were both settled in the truck, his phone rang. Mark's name appeared on the dashboard display.
"I heard your match on the highlight reels," Mark said when Adrian put the call on speaker. "Knockout in two minutes and thirty seconds. The sports announcer said that's never been done before in tournament history. The pride is impressed."
"It was nothing," Adrian replied, his voice carefully neutral. "I was just trying to get through it so I could get to Riley. She was attacked."