Chapter Thirty #2
I pulled out my phone to watch and text Sierra, not wanting her to get anxious.
Connor
I’m with the guys, sweet girl. I won’t be home until very late.
Are you okay?
Sierra
I’m okay!
Toffee and I are choosing his statue. Thoughts on quartz?
I couldn’t help the chuckle she drew from me, immediately washing away all the anger I felt. So fucking cute.
Connor
Get more than one if you can’t choose.
You call me if you need anything, okay?
Sierra
Yes, bossy pants.
For the next several hours, we dissected every piece of information we could find on Mason Vogel.
Adrian checked his medical records, revealing ten years of surgeries, pain management therapies, and psychiatric evaluations.
The man had been rebuilt from the inside out after our fight—titanium plates in his jaw, screws in his spine, and nerve damage that left him with chronic pain and limited mobility on his right side.
“Shit," Jax muttered as we scrolled through the medical file. “You really did a number on him.”
The memories flashed through me. The roar of the crowd, the taste of blood in my mouth, the sickening crunch as Mason's head hit the concrete.
I'd been young, angry at the world, fighting for the money and the release it gave me.
Mason had been the reigning champion, undefeated for three years.
He'd taunted me before the fight, calling me a nobody playing at being tough.
“It was kill or be killed,” I said quietly, staring at the X-rays of Mason's shattered jaw. “That's how those fights worked. He kept coming at me, even after I broke his ribs. Said he'd rather die than lose to someone like me.”
Adrian whistled low. “Well, he almost got his wish. Says here he was clinically dead for two minutes before they revived him.”
The revelation sent ice through my veins.
I didn’t really care, but the thought of Sierra finding out made my stomach churn.
What would she think if she knew? Her gentle heart, her belief in the good of the world, how could she possibly love a man who had beaten another to death in a cage for sport?
“Financial records next,” Jax said, pulling me from my dark thoughts. “Let's see what Mason's been up to since he recovered. ”
The picture that emerged was bleak. Mason had been a trust fund kid fighting for his ego. He'd tried to get back in the ring twice, only to be hospitalized both times when his body failed him. The last five years showed a pattern reflecting an early death.
The plan was taking shape, but one crucial question remained unanswered. “Sierra,” I said, my voice dropping. “We need to keep her safe from Jerry through this.”
Jax and Adrian exchanged a look, a silent communication passing between them. “She stays at the penthouse,” Jax said finally. “With round-the-clock security. No one gets in or out without your authorization.”
“And we don't tell her anything,” I added seriously. “Not about Mason, not about the footage, not about Jerry having a key to her apartment. As far as she knows, I’m busy getting ready for my break.”
“Tomorrow,” Jax declared, setting his empty glass down with finality. “We take today to plan, and then we confront Mason, together.”
Adrian's smile was cold and predatory. “Then we have fun with Jerry to celebrate.”
We finalized our approach, long shadows casting across Jax's furniture. I responded to Mason's message, agreeing to meet but requesting more time to “settle my affairs.”
None of us mentioned the possibility of failure, of Mason releasing the footage despite our precautions. I wouldn’t fail. Not with my sweet Sierra on the line, and not with the help of the two brothers who took me in when I had no one.
The drive back to the penthouse was quiet, the streets of the city bathed in a pale, sleepy light.
The weight of the last few hours pressed down on my shoulders.
Mason wasn’t just a man seeking revenge; he was a predator who had studied his prey for over a decade.
And I was the prize he wanted to drag down into the dirt.
As I pulled into the underground garage, the familiar hum of security cameras tracking my car brought a fleeting sense of relief. Sierra was safe here. But the thought of her waking up alone, wondering where I’d been, twisted something deep inside me. She deserved better than this.
The elevator ride felt endless, each floor ticking by like a countdown to some inevitable reckoning.
When I finally stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of Sierra being here hit me.
It was all her, soft and warm, calming me in a way nothing else could.
The living room was dark except for the faint glow of city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Toffee’s bed was empty; he must have joined her in our room.
I moved quietly down the hall, barely making a sound on the polished wood floors. The door to our bedroom was cracked open, and I pushed it gently, careful not to wake her if she was asleep. The sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks.
Sierra was curled on her side beneath the blankets, her dark hair spilling across the pillow under the soft light streaming through the curtains.
Toffee was nestled against her back his small body rising and falling in time with hers.
She looked peaceful, serene in a way that made my chest ache with love.
I set the duffel bag down silently and slipped off my jacket before climbing into bed beside her. She stirred as I settled in, her lashes fluttering open just enough for her dark brown eyes to meet mine. “Connor?” she murmured sleepily, her voice thick with drowsiness.
“Shh,” I whispered, pulling her closer until her head rested against my chest. “Go back to sleep.”
Her arms wrapped around me instinctively, and I felt her relax against me as she drifted off again.
I held her tighter than usual, burying my face in her hair and breathing in that lavender scent that had become my sanctuary.
She shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against my ribs as if she could sense my turmoil even in sleep.
“You’re holding me too tight,” she mumbled softly without opening her eyes.
“Sorry,” I whispered, loosening my grip just enough for her to settle comfortably again. Even as I tried to relax, my mind raced with plans and contingencies—ways to ensure Mason and Jerry never got close enough to hurt her or anyone else again.
Tomorrow would be hell, facing Mason after all these years, knowing he’d spent over a decade plotting this moment, but tonight was hers. For now, Sierra was safe in my arms, and I would hold onto that comfort for as long as I could.