Chapter Thirty
XADEN
I’m in the ring, facing off against Johnson. I can’t sleep, eat or even focus. I need an outlet for my rage, the only way I know how to do that is to fight or fuck and the latter isn’t on the cards since my dick only seems to get hard for one fucking person these days.
I’m channeling my rage, Johnson my newest target.
I’ve already taken down three of my guys and I know this asshole is pulling his punches because he thinks I can’t take it.
As rundown as this place is, I still find comfort here.
I brought Toren here to fight, and somehow the memory of her inside this ring with me is clouding my solace.
I can’t go to the fucking rink and skate because the Ravens are training, and Coach won’t let me train with the team until the ban is lifted.
He emailed me and told me the scouts were fucking out of their mind when they saw me win the championship against Somerset, but they had to do damage control because no college is going to offer me a scholarship with the fucking suspension dangling over my head.
I don’t regret beating the shit out of Masen.
I would do it over and over again.
“Boss—”
“I said hit me!” Rather than obey a direct order, Johnson drops his arms. Before I can lash out, Andrade steps into the ring. No gloves. I smirk, that’s more like it. I start to remove my own gloves but his words have me pausing.
“I’m not fighting you.”
I bare my teeth at the bastard. “Then get the fuck out. Next!” I shout.
“We need to move.”
“Why?”
He squares his shoulders and meets my angry glare. “Because we believe Toren is walking into a trap.”
Rage engulfs me.
I fight against the urge to break his jaw for mentioning her name.
I’m not in control when it comes to Toren.
The thought of her in any danger shouldn’t bother me but it does.
I’m fighting against every instinct inside me that is screaming at me to go to her, this is what I wanted.
I wanted her taken off the board. I cling to the notion that I am only concerned about her safety because I am the one who is owed her death, not some other cunt.
“How?”
“One of the men we have inside the Kellar network got word that there is a briefing tonight at Steven’s mansion.”
“And?” I snap, already impatient and needing him to get to the fucking point about how Toren is in danger.
“I had the guy’s check the chatter on the dark web and hack the CIA server. Fiona will be at the briefing. She’s embedding undercover agents in the organization. She wants to take Toren down in the hopes of drawing you, the Filthy Few, The Denver Kings and even The Butcher himself out.”
I begin to count to keep myself from lashing out.
I remove the gloves and climb out of the ring without uttering a word.
Andrade follows me as I exit the building and climb inside my car.
He jumps in beside me and says nothing as I break every speed limit.
Once I park in front of my father’s—my mansion, I climb out with him hot on my heels and head straight for the basement.
Cas is laying on the cot against the far side of the room. At the sound of our approach, he sits up and when he sees the look on my face his entire body turns rigid, not with fear, it’s his instinct overriding him.
He knows there’s about to be a fight and he wants in on it.
“What happened?” he snaps, like he still has the right to speak to me this way.
Before I can bite his head off Andrade speaks. “Fiona is making a move against Masen.”
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, one of them is in a cast. He reaches for the crutches. I don’t move to help the bastard. When he finally stands he looks me dead in the eyes. I hate that I still see my brother when all I should be looking at is a corpse.
“If she is finally moving against the Kellar’s, that means she is desperate or she has something up her sleeve.
” He moves until there is two feet separating us, his eyes burning with a plea.
I should slaughter the fucker where he stands for what he did, but a part of me understands why he did it.
Grief can alter you in a way you never saw coming, it will derail all your carefully laid plans and drag you into the darkness and force you to surrender your entire being to it.
Like I did.
I am who I am now because I allowed the monster inside me to gain control. I let the darkness consume me and use me as its conduit.
I have zero fucking regrets.
“How did she know Toren would be at the meet tonight?” I grit out in an icy tone.
Cas tries to mask the pain he’s in with an angry look but fails. “You have my fucking phone, X. Unless you think I have messenger pigeons on my payroll, I had nothing to do with this!” His fucking sarcasm grates on my nerves but I hold myself back from breaking his jaw.
“What’s our next move, boss?” Andrade asks, breaking the tension amplifying between me and Caspian.
“We’re going for a ride. Get this useless sack of shit a wheelchair or something.
He’s coming with us.” Cas’s eyes brim with hope.
I squash that shit. “If you had anything to do with this, I’ll slit your throat in front of that cock hungry slut’s face.
Toren won’t save you a second time,” I vow as I turn and stalk out of the basement, with his gaze burning a hole in the back of my head.
I make it upstairs and immediately start barking orders.
“Ken! Gauge! Get everyone who's not on essential operations. I want them armed and ready to move in twenty minutes.”
“Boss?” Ken appears from the kitchen, reading the urgency in my voice. “What's happening?”
“Fiona Williams is making a play tonight,” I say flatly. “And she's using Toren Kellar as bait.”
Understanding flashes across his face. “We're moving on the Kellar Cartel?”
“We're intercepting,” I correct. “I'm not letting that girl walk into an ambush without backup.”
“Girl?” Gauge appears from the hallway, eyebrows raised. “Since when do you give a shit about—”
“Don't!” I cut him off with a look that could freeze hell. “Don't fucking finish that sentence or question my motives.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Got it. What's the play?”
“We go to where she is now,” I say. “Warn her. Get the full layout of what Masen's planning. Then we position our men around the mansion before the briefing starts. When Fiona's people make their move, we’ll be ready.”
“That's a lot of coordination in…” Ken checks his watch. “Six hours.”
“Then we better get started,” I growl.
They disperse to gather the men, and I pull out my phone.
I stare at Toren's number, my thumb hovering over the call button.
I should call her. Warn her right now.
But something stops me.
Maybe it's pride. Maybe it's the fact that I can't admit over the phone that I'm terrified of losing her. Maybe it's because I need to see her face when I tell her I'm choosing her over revenge.
Choosing us.
I pocket the phone and head for the garage.
I'm going to her.
Right now.
And I'm going to make sure she understands that Fiona Williams just made the worst mistake of her life.
Because you don't threaten what's mine.
And somewhere along the way between the warehouse, the beach and that parking lot at Walter House, Toren Kellar became exactly that.
Mine.
Even if I'm too fucked up to say it out loud.
Even if I'm terrified of what that means.
Even if admitting it makes me vulnerable in ways I swore I'd never be again.
She's mine to protect.
Mine to fight for.
Mine to—
I stop that thought before it can finish, but the truth is already there, buried beneath layers of rage, grief and denial.
I care about her.
More than I should.
More than is safe.
More than I can afford to.
And tonight, I'm going to prove it.
By making sure Fiona Williams regrets ever coming after her.
By standing beside Toren instead of against her.
By choosing the future instead of the past.
Even if it destroys me.
Even if I don't deserve it.
I climb into my car, and Andrade slides into the passenger seat without comment.
Behind us, Johnson is helping Cas into the back, settling him in with his casted leg stretched out.
“Let's move,” I order, and we peel out of the driveway.
Heading toward Toren.
Toward the girl who makes me feel things I thought died with Em.
Toward the only person who's ever looked at me and seen something worth saving.
And as the city blurs past, I make myself a promise:
Tonight, I protect what's mine.
No matter the cost.
No matter what it takes.
No matter what.