RAGE

Shadow Security, Book Two

Kat Mizera

Copyright © 2026 by Kat Mizera

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Editing: Tera Cuskaden, Kay Springsteen

Cover Design: Dar Albert

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Epilogue

Chaos (Shadow Security, Book Three)

Also by Kat Mizera

About the Author

Chapter One

Luna

The first time it happened, I brushed it off, certain I was imagining things.

When it happened a second time, a few weeks later, I convinced myself that kids had been playing ding dong ditch for longer than I’ve been alive. Everyone knows the game, where a group of kids go on the hunt in a neighborhood and decide which house would be that evening’s target. One of the kids inevitably was talked into running up to the front door, knocking or ringing the bell repeatedly, and then the entire group would scatter like ants. They would almost always give themselves away, laughing so hard they couldn’t contain themselves as furious homeowners would open the door to find no one there.

I live in an apartment, so it’s a little different, but there are a ton of teenagers in the building.

At least, that’s what I try to tell myself. 

The third time is tonight. I’m still awake, reading in bed, and I sit up when I hear it, putting down my e-reader and grabbing my phone. For some reason, it hits different tonight. The knock isn’t loud or frantic. Instead, it’s a light, consistent rapping that goes on for about thirty seconds. And I just sit there, holding my phone and dialing 9-1-1 even though I don’t hit the button to make the call. 

Finally, it stops and I slowly get out of bed, tiptoeing through my apartment to peer out of the peephole.

Nothing.

Just darkness and an eerie silence that makes my chest tight and my stomach hurt. 

It has to be stupid teenagers being funny, right?

I don’t sleep a wink but by the time I get to work the next morning, I’m calmer. Still, I have to mention it to my boss because anyone in the witness protection program has to be cautious. Aware. The fact is, I’m always looking over my shoulder. Even though I feel relatively safe, I can’t help but worry. Probably more than I should. 

Daniil Gustaffson, together with his wife, owns the company I work for, Shadow Security. It’s an elite bodyguard and security firm that caters to the rich, the famous, and the titled. He himself is a non-working prince for the royal family of Limaj, a small, eastern European nation. 

He looks up when I knock on his office door and I note the way his brows knit together almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

I chuckle. He’s intuitive this way, keenly aware of everything going on around him and with the rest of us. 

“Do you have a minute?” I ask.

“For you? Always.” He motions to the chair across from him.

I sink down and tell him about the three times someone has knocked in the middle of the night. How the first two times seemed ridiculous but now this third time has given me pause. 

“I can’t put my finger on it,” I say carefully. “But it feels off.”

He nods. “Always trust your gut.”

“What should I do?”

“Let’s get you a doorbell cam and better locks. I also want you to work with Grim on your firearm training.”

Ugh.

I hate guns. 

With a passion.

But knowing how to use one is mandatory to work here and it’s not like I have to carry one.

Or do I?

“Does that mean you think I need to buy one?” I ask, trying not to sound horrified.

“I do.” He meets my gaze. “Look, you don’t have to carry it around. You don’t have to use it. Unless…” He pauses, letting the sentence hang in the air. 

“Unless someone actually tries to break into my apartment.” I sigh. “I know. I just—that feels like someone else’s life. I’m supposed to be nothing but some boring receptionist.”

He shakes his head. “But you’re not. Even if you weren’t in witness protection, you work for a high-profile member of a royal family. The fact that I’m a non-working royal means nothing to someone trying to hurt or blackmail one of us. That’s why you have to be able to protect yourself. Do you really want to be in a situation where someone gets into your apartment and you’re just hiding in the closet hoping the police get there in time?”

“Gun or no gun,” I admit with a laugh, “I’ll still be hiding in the closet.”

He chuckles. “Fair. But won’t you feel safer with a way to protect yourself?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Probably not. But I understand the point and yes, I’ll schedule training with Grim.”

“Good.” He cocks his head. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly.

“Go home early today and try to get some rest. If you’d like, you’re welcome to crash in our guest room for one night until we can get you set up. I’m going to send Chaos over to take care of it either this afternoon or first thing tomorrow.”

I hesitate.

I would absolutely sleep better under Daniil’s roof, but I hate the idea of being forced out of my own home. My sanctuary. Where all my things are.

No, I have to deal with this.

“I think I’ll be okay,” I say. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“All right. See you later.” He turns back to his computer, and I head to my office.

I’m exhausted but there’s a cappuccino with my name on it in the kitchen and then I’ll talk to Grim.

I’ve just taken my first sip of cappuccino when I hear movement behind me. I turn and am momentarily at a loss for words.

Rage.

Also known as Elliott Rageis.

He’s one of the bodyguards I work with and about two hundred and fifty pounds of pure delicious masculinity. My mouth practically waters every time he walks into a room and I get as tongue-tied as a teenager with her first crush. I have no idea why he impacts me like this. I’m dating someone. There’s nothing between us but work.

But I would lick every inch of him given half a chance.

“Morning.” His eyes meet mine and I’m at a loss for words. Still.

Knock it off.

The internal admonishment seems to do the trick and I smile as pleasantly as I can. “Good morning. How are you?”

“Good. What about you?”

“Daniil is making me learn to shoot,” I grumble. “Do you know where Grim is?”

“I can teach you to shoot.” He leans against the counter, and I force my eyes to leave his gloriously broad shoulders.

“Oh. Um, well, Dan said to ask Grim. But it doesn’t matter to me. I just have to become proficient with firearms as a prerequisite to work here.” I playfully wrinkle my nose. “I’m way too girlie for guns, but I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to come work here.”

“It’s never a bad thing to learn a life-saving skill. I know guns can be intimidating but when used properly, and with good training, they’re not as dangerous as people think they are.”

I nod. “I suppose that’s true. I just never really liked guns and stuff. I was more of a punk rock princess.”

He chuckles. “Nothing wrong with being a princess of any kind. Learning how to handle a gun doesn’t change that. It just adds to your mystique.”

My mystique? I’m going to swoon if he keeps talking to me like that. 

“Let’s make a plan,” he continues. “Maybe later this week, or on Saturday, we can get started. You can use a gun from my collection.”

“You have…a collection?” It shouldn’t surprise me but it does.

He smiles, showing surprisingly white teeth and dimples, and it’s disarming as fuck because he’s so damn hot. “I do. I mean, nothing crazy. I have six. Not like an arsenal or anything. And one of them is a collectible. It was my grandfather’s, an old .22 that he loved. It’s all I have of him.”

And he’s sentimental too. Could he get any hotter? 

I’m equally shocked that he shared something so personal with me. Normally, he’s pretty tight-lipped about his past, family, anything like that. It makes me feel good that he would open up, even if it’s just a small thing.

Bad Luna. 

Stop picturing Rage naked and focus on Roger, your actual boyfriend. 

“It’s nice that you kept it.”

He nods. “Anyway, just let me know what day works for you and we’ll get started.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He winks and says, “See you later, princess.”

Oh, well, there goes my stupid heart, fluttering like crazy. 

I have a boyfriend.

Not only that, but we also have plans Friday night and I have something important to talk to him about. It will take our relationship to the next level and potentially change both of our lives.

If he’s on board.

I think he might be, but it’s hard to know, because he’s quiet and a bit nerdy. He’s incredibly smart and hard-working but he doesn’t have much game in the romance department. It’s been four months since we started dating and I honestly have no idea where he sees our relationship going. 

Friday night, however, I plan to find out because what I want to discuss with him can’t wait.

Chapter Two

Rage

“Would a million dollars change your mind?”

“No.” I scowl at the phone in my hand.

“Rage, it’s a lot of money. A million dollars with the potential for⁠—”

“Serious injury,” I interject. “Drama. A complete invasion of the privacy of my life, which, as you know, could be detrimental to my current career.”

“There are ways to mitigate injury. You know how this works. And the publicity could be a good thing. Think of the people who’ll be clamoring to have Rage the Cage as their personal bodyguard.”

Fuck. That.

“The answer is no.”

“What about one point five and some strategic contract wording to minimize your tax exposure?”

I grunt. “Carl. Not one million. Not five million. Not ten million. There is no amount of money that will get me back into fighting professionally.”

My former agent sighs dramatically. “Elliott. Come on. Rage the Cage was incredibly popular. And the fact that you simply walked away after two championships left people wanting more.”

“Good for them.” I glance at my buddy, Grim, who’s just joined me at the gym and squints curiously. “But I’m not interested. I’m sure there are twenty other fighters out there who’ll take you up on your offer. Take care of yourself.” With that, I disconnect.

“What was that?” Grim asks. We’ve been friends a long time, and he knows when I’m annoyed.

“My old agent. Says the UFC wants to promote some big comeback series of fights with people who retired or whatever. Not interested.” I head toward the ring. 

“Five million is a lot of money,” he says, following me.

“Well, he didn’t actually offer five. He offered one and then upped to one point five. Still not enough.”

“But you love to fight.”

“I used to. Now I love being healthy and eating most of what I want. I’m almost thirty-eight. Why the fuck would I want to subject my brain, and the rest of me, to that kind of abuse? Money isn’t the most important thing in the world. Besides, I have a good job.”

He nods. “Agreed. But you do love to fight.”

I grin. “And that’s why I’m going to kick your ass around the ring tonight.”

He grunts and the conversation is apparently over. We put on head gear before climbing through the ropes. I roll my shoulders and arch a brow at Grim as I put in my mouthpiece. 

“Ready?” I mumble

He grimaces. “Yeah, whatever.”

I just laugh.

The company I work for, Shadow Security, has a standing fight night every Friday, where we work out, spar, and generally mess around. Usually, it’s lighthearted and fun, even though as bodyguards to celebrities and international dignitaries, we’re serious about staying in shape. But Friday nights are about camaraderie and honing our skills—not getting hurt.

I lift my fists. “Let’s go.”

He narrows his gaze just a little. In this particular situation, he doesn’t trust me. And that’s a good thing. That’s how he and the rest of our colleagues will learn to be better fighters. We’re all what’s considered elite bodyguards with special skill sets. No one here has to learn anything, in the general sense.

But I’m the best with my fighting skills, and I’ve been showing them how to be better. Most of them appreciate it. Grim, however, is my closest friend. My confidante. The proverbial brother from another mother. We’ve been through almost everything together, so when we get in the ring, there’s a trust between us that doesn’t exist with others. 

And I might take advantage of that trust once in a while.

I take a playful swing at my friend and he ducks out of the way, but we’re just warming up. My body moves effortlessly, as comfortable in the ring as I am sprawled on my couch, and I feel the familiar tingle of excitement. 

It’s always been this way, since my days as a wrestler in high school. Then I moved on to boxing, and by the time I got to the Marines, I was primed for everything they could throw at me in their Force Recon school. That was when I got serious, and when I transitioned out of the military, I wound up in the UFC—Ultimate Fighting Championship—which is a premier mixed martial arts promotion.

“What, taking it easy on me today?” Grim taunts.

“You asking me to put a hurt on you?” I counter, narrowing my gaze at him.

Not that I would ever hurt him—or anyone else unless I have to—but I like to mess with him. And he’s well aware of it, which is why he’s always on guard. To be fair, I don’t fight like other men. If I wanted to hurt someone, even a guy as tough as Grim, I could. Everyone knows it.

In fact, it’s kind of a joke here at headquarters because there’s literally a schedule—every Friday I fight someone different since no one wants to get in the ring with me two weeks in a row. 

I think it’s hilarious that they’re all a tiny bit afraid of me.

Okay, they’re not afraid. Not in the true sense of the word. If we all didn’t have a level of comfort, we wouldn’t be here. I should probably say they have a healthy respect for my talent when it comes to fighting. 

Once Grim and I are in fighting stance, we exchange a few jabs, eyeing each other. He’s wary and I’m trying to decide how I’m going to surprise him. Between the head gear and mouthguards, there’s a level of protection, but I still need to fuck with him. 

Turning sideways, I bend my arm at the elbow at a ninety-degree angle, aiming for the side of his head. My right hook is hard, and his head snaps to the side, but he comes back with an upper cut, catching me under the chin. With enough practice and the right amount of force, you can knock someone out with one of those. Luckily, that’s not his intention.

“Nice one.” I grin. Then I hit him back. Hard enough to make him stumble. 

A bunch of our colleagues are here to watch, and I hear them chuckling, egging us on, catcalling just because they can. 

I bounce on my toes, giving Grim a chance to get his bearings. Then we settle into the fight, each blow a little harder than the last as we work up a sweat and get more creative with our tactics. That’s what this is all about. He’s a better sparring partner than he thinks he is, which makes it fun for me. He’s big and smart, quick on his feet, and all things being equal, he’s as lethal as I am. Just in different ways.

I’ve just pulled back my fist, about to catch him with a right cross, when I see a flash of hot pink in the doorway. I turn, barely a fraction of an inch, and I see her.

Luna.

Our mysterious and gorgeous cyber security genius.

The woman I’ve been secretly fantasizing about for months.

And she’s wearing something low-cut and flowy, showing off her sexy figure. 

I catch a glimpse of long legs just as Grim’s fist connects with my jaw. My chin snaps up, pain ricochets through my face, and my mouthguard goes flying, bouncing on the mat a few times.

Fuck. 

Grim is watching me and looks as surprised as I feel. Especially since I know he knows exactly what distracted me. “Seriously?” He chuckles. “Are you⁠—”

I feel a flicker of embarrassment—he caught me off-guard and distracted—so before he even finishes his thought, I kick out my leg and sweep his feet out from under him. But he’s a big guy and takes me down with him. Without my mouthguard, I know he’s not going to hit me in the face, so he pummels me in the ribs as we roll around, each trying to outmaneuver the other. 

By the time I look up again, Luna’s gone and I feel a flash of annoyance I can’t quite describe.

“Get off me!” I grunt, shoving him away.

Our friends are laughing and hooting, and I grab my mouthguard before I get back to my feet. Obviously, I’m not putting it back in my mouth, and I jump to the ground, grabbing my water bottle.

“Does this mean I won?” Grim calls after me.

“It means I have work to do!”

“What, that’s it?” Daniil, our boss and the owner of Shadow Security, arches a brow at me. 

“It’s Friday night,” I mutter. “And I have front desk duty.”

He chuckles. “Uh huh.”

I lift my middle finger in his direction as I make my way to the showers. 

We have a full gym with all the equipment you’d find at a public facility, the boxing ring, a sauna, and men’s and women’s locker rooms with showers. Daniil and his wife, Courtney, went all out when they drew up the plans for the company’s headquarters, and while the rest of the building isn’t completely finished yet, finalizing the gym was a priority.

I take a quick shower, get dressed, and head out to the main lobby.

Shadow Security has only been in business five months. Set on a hundred acres that butt up against the San Bernardino National Forest, Daniil built a home for himself and his family and then a massive headquarters on the land. In addition to the main building, which has three floors and over twenty-five thousand square feet, there will be a driving range, a shooting range, a garage for the fleet of company vehicles, an underground bunker and several safe rooms and studio apartments. It’s a lot.

That’s why it’s taking so long to be done.

I sit down in the control booth, which is just off the main reception area, and get my bearings. There aren’t enough of us to handle all the different jobs, so everyone has to pitch in. 

Luna is our cyber security expert and she normally manages the front desk when we’re expecting visitors even though she has a technology room where all her stuff is set up. Tonight’s her night off, and I volunteered to help out since I have no other plans.

Courtney, who is nine months pregnant, usually handles the phones since she can do that from the house. The rest of us—the elite bodyguards who all own a share of the company—handle everything else. Clients, emergencies, training, manning the security cameras, and anything else that comes up. 

In my peripheral vision, I see that same flash of pink and this time I turn my head, watching Luna pause to put a dab of lipstick on her full pouty lips. There’s something about her I can’t get out of my mind. Aside from her being beautiful, I love how unapologetically quirky she is. From her ever-changing hair color to her funky outfits to her loud, infectious laugh. 

She’s also perhaps the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, and so good at her job. No matter what we ask of her, she’s up to the task, and almost always with a smile on her face. There’s no doubt she loves her job and the people she works with, and I probably spend more time than I should thinking about her. 

Unfortunately, I don’t think she knows I’m alive beyond being a co-worker, and even if she did, what would she see in a former jarhead like me? I’m not the kind of guy to push myself on a woman, so I’ve made my peace with it and kept a polite distance. 

I’m not above eavesdropping, though, and I drop my gaze as I listen to Luna, Allora, and Courtney laugh about something.

“Have the best time!” Allora says to her.

“And we want details tomorrow!” Courtney adds, rubbing her large belly. “I have to live vicariously through you guys right now.”

“I thought pregnant women get super horny?” Luna teases her.

Courtney laughs. “That was true until about a week ago and then my body was like, nope. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. Just get this thing out!”

They laugh again. 

“I have a good feeling about this,” Allora tells Luna. “I think you and Roger will make really pretty babies!”

Babies?!

What the hell is she talking about?

And who the fuck is Roger?!

Chapter Three

Luna

I’ve never enjoyed dating.

I like having a boyfriend and being in a relationship, but the early stages of dating where you ask all the questions and figure out if you really like someone? Not my thing. And I’ve done way too much of that over the years. 

Luckily, after more than four months, Roger and I are past the awkward stuff. That’s why I’m going to talk to him about our future tonight. I’m a little nervous because I’m not sure he’ll be on board for what I have in mind but I’m not getting any younger. 

It’s not that I’m old. Thirty-five isn’t old by most standards.

Except the one on my mind.

The one where my OBGYN told me my days for getting pregnant are numbered. That between being overweight, having PCOS/PMOS, and the fact that thirty-five is the age where even healthy women are considered geriatric when it comes to pregnancy, she thinks every year I wait will be that much more difficult for me.

That said, I have no intention of waiting to find the perfect guy. I’m perfectly capable of raising a child on my own, but I don’t want to. I’d like a partner, even if the relationship doesn’t work out and we become nothing more than co-parents. I want my child to grow up with both a mom and a dad. I also have a support network now, which is part of what swayed my decision to do this now.

Due to the growing number of children in our circle at Shadow Security, Daniil and Courtney are planning to start on-site daycare in the fall. So the baby can be in the building while I work. There’s also a generous maternity leave plan in the works, though I’ll be the first to test it out since Courtney doesn’t really work for Shadow Security.

She and Daniil started it together, and she plans to participate now that they bought a helicopter and she’s a pilot, but on a day-to-day basis we don’t count on her for shifts. 

I know nothing is ever as easy in practice as it is in theory, but I’ve spoken to Courtney about my plans and she’s promised they’ll make it work because they need me. No one else on the team has my coding skills. My hacking background. My expertise in cyber security. That’s why they hired me, despite my colorful past.

“Luna. There you are.” Roger’s voice is warm, his smile genuine when I walk up to the restaurant in Temecula, which is where we both live. He reaches out, hugs me with one arm and kisses me lightly, eyes raking over me. “You look…lovely.”

“Thank you.” I’m wearing my favorite hot pink summer dress with matching platform heels. My hair is also the same color, thanks to a visit to my stylist yesterday. 

“Our table is ready. Shall we?” He holds out his arm, and I take it.

He’s old-fashioned that way, and I find it charming. He’s a bit older than I am, in his late forties, but we’ve talked about relationships, marriage, and those kinds of things, and seem to be on the same page for almost all of it.

We sit at a nice table overlooking the garden behind the restaurant and order a bottle of wine. He tells me about his day as we peruse the menus. There’s an osso Bucco that sounds amazing, as well as a chateaubriand that we’d have to share. I’m always a little self-conscious about what I eat in front of a man, even after all these months. I know, it’s a terrible stereotype, but I’m five eleven and over two hundred pounds. 

I’m a big girl by today’s standards, and men can be jerks. Roger has never said or done anything to make me self-conscious about my weight but we don’t usually go out to nice restaurants like this, with multiple courses, a breadbasket, and potentially all the bells and whistles.

“Would you want to share the chateaubriand?” I ask him.

He smiles and nods. “That sounds great.”

The waiter comes over and we order an appetizer and our meal. Then he continues telling me about his day at work. He’s a civil engineer, and though I find his work boring, I feign interest because I figure he feels the same way when I talk about my work. 

Also, because I want him to consider me someone who’d make a good life partner. To want to start something more serious. To agree to start working on making a baby.

“What about your day?” he asks politely, after we’ve finished the stuffed fig appetizer we ordered. “Catch any bad guys?”

Due to the nondisclosure agreement we all signed, I can’t talk about the details of my work, but he knows I’m a security expert for a bodyguard and security company. 

“Today was quiet,” I say, and it’s true. “I actually spent part of the day hanging out with Courtney. She’s having her baby any day now.”

He nods. “It seems to be a very family-oriented company.”

“It is.” And here’s my opening. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” I say carefully.

He cocks his head and pushes his glasses up on his nose. “What do you mean?”

“I know it’s soon, but the truth is, I’m getting older.” I toy with my wine glass because I need to do something with my hands. “I guess I need to know if this relationship is going anywhere. If you’re looking to move in together, settle down, maybe buy a house.”

His brows knit together ever so slightly and he cocks his head. “It might be a little soon for that, but yes, if things continue to go well, that’s the direction I’d like to go. I’m not getting any younger myself.”

“And that’s the other thing.” I hesitate because it’s hard for a woman like me to be vulnerable. “I need to know your thoughts about…children.”

His brows lift. Just a little. Like he’s trying to hide his surprise. “Are you asking if I want…children?”

I nod, watching his face.

“I see.” His expression is more thoughtful than anything else but it takes him a long time to formulate a response. “I’m forty-seven,” he reiterates finally. “Even if you got pregnant today, I’d be forty-eight before the baby came, and you said children, plural. So, I’d be fifty for the birth of a second child. Honestly, I don’t know if I’m prepared for that.”

My heart sinks.

Shit.

I really thought shy, nerdy Roger was the one who would be willing to take this leap of faith with me. He’s been open about the fact that not a lot of women are willing to give a middle-class guy who’s balding and severely near-sighted—not to mention heading right smack into middle age—a chance. Just like a hunk-and-a-half like Rage would never have any interest in dating a curvy computer nerd like me. 

It’s a shame too, because as far as I’m concerned, Rage is the perfect guy. Tall, strong, and handsome, with a gentleness that belies his large physique. And that smile. It gets me every time. Too bad he would never think about me as anything more than a friend.

I really need to stop thinking about him. 

“So, is that a no?”

“Is that a dealbreaker for you?” he asks as the waiter brings our dinner.

I wait until the waiter has refilled our wine glasses and we’re alone again.

“To answer your question,” I say quietly, “yes. It is a dealbreaker. I want a baby. Sooner rather than later. In fact, I was going to ask you if you were willing to start trying. But I guess not.”

He frowns in obvious confusion. “You want to just…start trying?” Like he can’t even fathom such a thing.

“I’m thirty-five,” I say patiently. “Ancient in baby-making years. Plus, I have PMOS.”

“PMOS?” 

“Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome. It used to be called PCOS.”

“I…” He falters for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know anything about it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I lift one shoulder half-heartedly.

This is frustrating.

“Are you…mad?” he asks softly, watching my face carefully.

“Disappointed,” I reply. “Not mad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I knew there was a chance you’d say no. But that’s why I had to ask. I don’t have time to waste on casual dating. Now that I know, I can move on.”

He stares at me. “So, that’s it? We’re not going to see each other again?”

“That’s what a dealbreaker is,” I remind him gently.

He pushes his glasses back up his nose again. “Wait—you’re serious. Like, this having a baby thing is your top priority.”

“Well,” I back pedal just a little. “Obviously, feeling safe and happy with a good person I can share my life with is important too. Otherwise, I could just buy sperm from a bank and be done.”

He blinks. 

I can almost see the wheels turning. He’s trying to figure me out and I get it. Lots of guys have tried to figure me out over the years. I’m a handful in more ways than one. I’m tall and curvy, with big breasts and wide hips. I change hair color the way some people change underwear. Not to mention the hoop in my eyebrow and the sleeve of tattoos down one arm. Add in the fact that I have an IQ of 165—there are very few men who can handle me.

Roger seemed to be doing okay.

Until now.

He takes off his glasses and dabs his napkin on his forehead. “I’m sorry. This is just⁠—”

“A lot.” I manage a tight smile. Because I’ve heard this more times than I can count. “I know.”

“I think maybe I could use some time to think about it,” he says after an awkward silence. 

“Sure,” I say cautiously. “I can give you a little time.”

It’s not like men are lining up to father a child for me.

Even though starting the hunt all over again will be a pain in the ass.

He watches me carefully. Probably wondering if I’m going to make a scene or do some other outrageous thing. But that’s not my style. Mostly, I just want to go home and hide under the covers.

“I was thinking I’d talk to my mother,” Roger says, startling me back to the conversation. 

“Your…mother?” I ask in confusion.

“Well, yes. I always turn to her when I need counsel about something important. I think maybe she could offer some perspective.”

His mother? I’ve never even met her so I didn’t realize they were that close.

Jesus, maybe I’m dodging a bullet here.

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my small clutch purse automatically and see it isn’t a text but it’s actually ringing. And it’s Daniil.

“I’m sorry, this is my boss. It might be important.” I answer quietly. “Daniil?”

“Luna. I know you’re off tonight but⁠—”

“What’s happened?” I ask automatically.

“Courtney’s in labor. We’re leaving for the hospital in a few minutes and I’m taking a full security detail. I could really use you here to help oversee things and hold down the fort. Rage and Mark will be with you, but I need to be able to focus on my wife without worrying about our safety or that of headquarters.”

“Of course!” I say quickly. “I’ll settle up here and be there in twenty minutes.”

“Great. Thank you.”

“Give Courtney my love.”

“Will do.” He disconnects, and I put my phone away while digging out my credit card.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. My boss’s wife is in labor, and they need me at headquarters.”

“On a Friday night?” He looks dubious.

“Courtney’s in labor,” I repeat, looking around for our waiter. I wave him over and ask for the bill. “Please put half on this,” I say, handing the waiter my card.

The waiter puts down the credit card receipt, and I sign it hurriedly, before stuffing the card back in my purse.

“Take care of yourself, Roger.” Now that I have a legitimate excuse, I get to my feet. 

“I’ll call you in a few days,” he replies quickly, also standing up. “And let me walk you⁠—”

“I’m fine!” I say impatiently. “Really.”

I turn and head for the door, eager to just put this whole evening behind me. 

I take two steps when my foot hits something slippery and then both feet slide out from under me. My legs go wide, my purse goes flying, and I watch in a kind of slow-motion horror as a waiter trips over my legs.

The tray of food he’s carrying goes in every direction.

And then two plates’ worth of pasta carbonara bounce off my head and splatters all over me.

Chapter Four

Rage

Everything happened quickly once Courtney announced she was in labor.

Daniil immediately gathered a security team. Grim and three of our colleagues all accompanied Daniil and Courtney to the hospital. It might seem like overkill but Daniil Gustaffson is technically Prince Daniil, first cousin to the king of an Eastern European country called Limaj. He’s a non-working royal now, but still a royal. Still a billionaire. Still a potential target while in a vulnerable situation, like his wife going through childbirth.

Mark Garrison, another one of the bodyguards we work with, came in to be with me, and Luna is supposed to be on her way back to man the cameras and phones. Not a lot happens at the office late at night but it could. Since Daniil is royalty, there’s always the possibility of danger. He left Limaj to avoid that as much as possible, but nothing is guaranteed. 

Courtney is as tough as they come but she’ll be vulnerable during labor. Daniil is also a trained bodyguard and martial arts expert, but he’ll be distracted while Courtney is giving birth, and frankly, he should be able to be completely tuned in to his wife during that time. Especially since he missed the birth of their first child.

We’ve been preparing for this, which is why Mark came in right away and Luna is on her way back.

I almost smirk, thinking about her date being interrupted.

Maybe that makes me a dick, but I absolutely hate the idea that she has a boyfriend. I’ve never let a woman distract me before, and though a Friday night sparring session with my best friend isn’t something I needed to be completely focused on, I love to fight. To train. A woman should have been the last thing on my mind at that moment. 

Instead, she walked in and Grim clocked me good.

I’ve thought about her a lot more than is healthy the last couple of months, so the rush of jealousy I felt when I heard she was going out on a date didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was hearing the girls mention that she’s going to start trying to get pregnant. She’s never even brought this Roger guy around—and everyone’s significant others come by regularly—but they’re serious enough to talk about getting pregnant?

Fuck that.

First chance I get, I’m going to try to talk her out of it.

There’s movement at the front doors that catches my eye, and I lean closer to the screen, on alert.

Is that Luna? 

Unable to help myself, I get to my feet and peer around the corner. She’s limping into the lobby and her beautiful pink dress is covered in something I can’t identify. She’s carrying her heels and as she gets closer, I see her mascara has run down her cheeks.

Before I can stop myself, I walk over to her and snarl, “What the fuck happened? Did Roger do this?!”

She blinks up at me in confusion. “Wh-what?”

“What. Happened.” My heart is thundering and I’m ready to throttle whoever did this to her.

“I don’t…er…nothing.”

“Nothing?” I motion to her. “You’re covered in…something, and you’ve obviously been crying.” Now that I’m closer, I note that one of the straps of her dress is torn.

Oh, fuck no.

Without thinking, I gently but firmly grab her arm. “Did Roger hurt you?”

It’s like she’s been in a trance but my touch snaps her out of it. She yanks free and narrows her eyes in my direction. “No! Leave it alone, Rage.”

“I won’t.” I prevent her from walking around me. “What did he do?”

“Nothing!” She shoves at my chest, though it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a toddler.

“Luna.”

“Rage.”

We glare at each other.

Finally, as if she realizes she’s going to lose this battle, she sighs. “I had an accident. That’s all. And it’s…embarrassing.”

“Tell me anyway.” I fold my arms across my chest, waiting. Because if he so much as stepped on her toe, I’m going to break both of his legs.

She scowls. “Can you just leave it alone?”

“No.”

“Rage.” She pulls in a soft breath. “I’m sticky and wet and need to clean up so I can get to work. Can we⁠—”

“Tell me. Now.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” She throws up her hands, almost clocking me in the face with one of her platform heels. “I slipped. Okay? When I went down, I took a waiter with me and he dropped two orders of pasta on me. Roger tried to help, but when he started to lift me, he slid in the sauce and he went down too. Then the waiter tried, but I turned my ankle and couldn’t put any weight on it, so I went down a second time.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Then they both tried, and in their efforts to get my fat ass up off the floor, my dress ripped. Okay? Are you happy now?”

I feel a million emotions in that moment.

Frustration.

Relief.

Anger.

I can only imagine how humiliating that was for her, and I fucking hate it.

“Did you just call yourself fat? You are not fat,” I say gruffly, eyes never leaving her face. “How bad is your ankle?”

“It hurts but it’ll be okay once I clean up and put some ice on it.” She starts to take a step. “Can I go shower now?”

“Hang on.” Then I speak into my earpiece. “Mark, can you take watch for a few minutes?”

“On my way,” he responds.

“Rage, I’m fine. I have clean clothes in my locker and⁠—”

“Stop.” I hold up a hand, cutting her off. 

She gives me an annoyed look, but I don’t care. I can’t leave the front of the building unattended but I’m not going to let her walk all the way to the showers at the back of the building on a potentially broken or sprained ankle.

“I’m here,” Mark calls. “Hey, Luna, are you—” He stops. “What’s on your dress?”

“Don’t ask,” she mutters. “There was an incident at a restaurant. And before you get all caveman-y, I slipped. There were no bad guys involved. Just me wearing heels on a very slippery floor.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, go do what you need to do.”

“Thanks.” Before she can protest, I reach out and lift her in my arms, carrying her bridegroom-style toward the back.

“Rage!” She lets out a squeak of protest. “Put me down before you sprain something!”

That makes me laugh.

“You’re funny,” I say. “You think I don’t lift more than this every day at the gym?”

“I weigh…a lot.”

I roll my eyes. “By whose standards? Certainly not mine.”

“Society’s standards.”

“Society is stupid.” I stride into the ladies locker room since there’s no one else here and set her on the bench. “Tell me which locker is yours.”

“Fifteen.”

They’re all numbered so I open it—we don’t lock anything here, it’s not necessary—and look over at her. “What do you need so I can put it all close to the shower for you.”

I see her bristle but then she just sighs, almost as if she can’t bother fighting anymore. Which is a good thing because I’m not going to let her win until I decide whether or not she needs a doctor.

She tells me what to grab and I gather everything. I set it all on the bench beside her and then squat down. “Let me see your ankle.”

She lifts her foot, and I run my hands over an area that’s a little swollen but I don’t think it’s serious. I press on a few places, asking if it hurts, and then rotate her ankle in one direction and then the other.

“It’s fine,” she says quietly. “I roll my ankle every so often. It’ll be sore for a few days and then back to normal.”

“I’m going to take you into the shower, and then I’ll get an Ace bandage out of my locker. Once you’re dressed, I’ll wrap it for you.”

I see that same annoyance flicker in her eyes, but then she drops her gaze. “Okay. Thank you.” 

I scoop her up again and carry her into the shower area, with her holding her things. “Yell when you’re dressed,” I say. “I’ll come get you.”

“I can walk, Rage.”

“Not until I wrap your ankle.”

Our eyes meet, and she seems to be trying to decide how to respond. Then she just nods, her face devoid of expression or emotion. “Okay. Thanks.”

I’m surprised she gave in so easily. I don’t want to fight with her, nor do I want to make her uncomfortable, but there’s no reason not to let me help. We’re colleagues. She hurt herself, and I’m fairly skilled as a medic. Not for anything serious, but cuts and bruises, sprains and strains, things like that. If I thought the injury was serious I would force her to go to an ER.

Luckily, it’s not necessary.

Of course, now I’m thinking about her in the shower.

Naked. 

This preoccupation is starting to annoy me, but I can’t deny the effect she has on me whenever we’re in the same room together. And carrying her? I finally had her in my arms and she was perfect. Soft and warm and sexy.

Physically, she’s my ideal. She’s about six feet tall and a big, beautifully curved woman. I’ve jerked off more than once imagining my face buried in her breasts or picturing her riding my cock. For a big guy like me, a woman who’s five feet tall and weighs ninety pounds is intimidating. I’ve always been worried about hurting a woman like that just by virtue of my sheer bulk. 

And I’ve dated women who fit that description. I don’t discriminate, but I do worry. I’m not just tall—six five and about two forty at the moment—but I have big hands, long legs, and a lot of muscle. If I’m honest, I’m big…everywhere.

I had a girlfriend in college who was a petite little thing. Gorgeous and brilliant, I liked her a lot, but we really struggled in the bedroom. Not only were there many positions we simply couldn’t manage because of the difference in height, I hurt her with the size of my dick.

Not intentionally—I would never do that—but I’m hung and she was…tiny. It fit but I hated the way she winced, no matter how much lube we used. The way she tried to pretend to like it because she liked me. In the end, I couldn’t take the pain I caused her, and she was kind enough to pretend breaking up was about the fact that I was leaving since I owed the Marines four years after putting me through college. 

So, that was it for me and tiny women. 

Not that I have the time or inclination to date. Or have a relationship. Generally speaking, I would be open to one but how do I bring a woman into the world I live in? The one where I’m always in danger, always putting myself in sketchy situations in order to keep others safe. It’s not conducive to a healthy relationship. 

Except Grim and Allora seem to be doing it.

It hasn’t been long, though. I’m rooting for them, and I genuinely like her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have doubts. Men like Grim and me—we’re not built for stability. We’re adventurers. Protectors. Heroes.

I hate using that word but it’s become part of my identity. Every time I save someone’s life or keep someone from being hurt, they use that word when they thank me. It’s a weird combination of flattering and embarrassing. 

I can’t imagine how it would feel for the woman in my life to watch me walk out the door to go to work every day, knowing I might not come home. Because of that, I stick to casual hookups and women who aren’t interested in the long-term.

That works for me. 

Unfortunately, I don’t think it would work for Luna and me. 

Except for the fact that Luna haunts my dreams, and now that I’ve touched her, there’s no way I can keep pretending I don’t want her.

Chapter Five

Luna

I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that I’m…a big girl. I’ve been plus sized since high school. In those days, I cried a lot. But college changed everything. I worked hard to lose twenty-five pounds and even though I was still bigger, I felt stronger and more confident. Plus, going to MIT put me in a totally different league. Everyone there was smart, much more focused on brains than beauty.

I got my first boyfriend, started playing with my personal style and hair colors, got my first tattoo, and genuinely started becoming comfortable in my skin. I learned to love my bigger body and in those days I spent a lot of time at the gym. Not because it was going to make me skinny but because it made me confident. Strong. Fit. So going up and down three flights of stairs didn’t leave me winded and sweaty.

Everything changed when I got arrested. 

Things got bad when I had to file bankruptcy.

They got worse when I had to go into witness protection.

My life has been a disaster the last seven years. I’ll never be able to repay Daniil and Courtney for saving me. Believing in me. Not just giving me back my life but affording me the opportunity to work in the field I love with a job I love. I thought those days were over and I’d be relegated to data entry work for the rest of my life.

And the cherry on top of the incredibly generous sundae is them allowing me to be a part owner in the company, working with equally smart, competent people.

I even have girlfriends now, something I wasn’t sure I could risk after being forced into witness protection. If I’m honest, everything about this job has been a blessing. It’s allowed me to slowly begin rebuilding my life, which is why I decided that the time was right to have a baby. 

I waffle between wanting to wait until I find someone I can fall head over heels in love with and settling for a good man who’ll make a reliable partner and co-parent. Roger isn’t my typical type, but I thought he was different—and maybe, under the right circumstances, I could learn to love him.

Apparently, I miscalculated.

I wasn’t deluding myself into believing he would be the love of my life but if he was willing to have a baby and make a life together, that would be enough. Instead, the conversation went sideways and I wound up embarrassing myself in my haste to get out of there.

Ugh.

Then Rage stepped in and got all protective and angry when he saw me.

The weird thing is, as much as it annoyed me, I kind of like the fact that he cares enough to get upset. That he got angry when he thought someone had purposely hurt me. It’s been a very long time since anyone cared about me like that. Protected me. Or at least, wanted to protect me. That he could pick me up like I weigh nothing also made my heart beat a little faster.

I mean, how could it not? Rage is sex appeal on two very strong, muscular legs. He’s got dark wavy hair that sticks up sometimes when he’s in a hurry, and these expressive blue eyes that always make me feel like he can see inside me. His smile is great too.

And then there’s his body.

I love a tall, muscular man and Rage is all that and more. Tall, around six-five, with shoulders that fill any doorway he walks through. I’ve seen him without a shirt and it’s truly breathtaking, how flat and hard and ripped his abdomen is. I’ve never known a man in real life with the abdominal V, but Rage has it and I won’t deny having fantasies about licking it. 

All the guys at Shadow look damn good without shirts but there’s something different about Rage. The way he handles himself. The timbre of his voice. His huge but gentle hands.

On top of that, he’s college-educated, smart, articulate, and a genuinely nice guy. When he says good morning and asks about my weekend, it’s not just something he says in passing. He actually waits for me to respond. If I talk about a video game, he asks about it. If I talk about shopping with the girls, he asks if I bought anything fun. 

I can’t remember any guy in my past who made me feel seen. Heard. Like I matter. I know it’s a professional relationship, because he seems to be like that with everyone at Shadow Security, but it’s still a refreshing change. 

Sadly, guys like Rage don’t date women like me. He might want to sleep with me, but I’m not in the market for a one-time hookup. I wouldn’t do that with Rage anyway, because he’s just too magnificent for words. Not to mention a co-worker. I don’t think there would be anything casual about hooking up with him. Too bad. Because I’d love to make a baby with him. Build on our friendship…

Oh well.

A girl can dream.

I get all the carbonara and whatever else was clinging to my skin and hair off in the shower and dry off. I don’t bother blow drying my hair and stick it in a ponytail. I can’t be bothered with makeup either, not after the night I’ve had. And if I’m going to pull an all-nighter, I’m more interested in comfort. That’s why I’m glad I had a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt in my locker, along with undergarments and sneakers. 

My foot is sore and swollen just enough to force me to loosen the laces on that sneaker. I probably shouldn’t even bother since I need to ice it, but I don’t want to walk around barefoot either.

“You ready, Luna?” Rage’s voice is loud in the empty locker room, and I jump.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

“I told you I was going to wrap your foot,” he says, walking in.

He’s so…big, standing there looking down at me. 

Then he squats and reaches for my foot for the second time tonight.

And I’m a little awestruck by it.

How gentle his hands are. How careful he is as he removes my sock and starts to wrap the ankle expertly. Like he’s done this before.

“Not your first time wrapping an ankle,” I comment wryly.

He chuckles. “Not hardly. I wound up working as an unofficial medic on my last tour in the Middle East. I learned a lot.”

“I see that.” 

“There.” He puts my foot down and looks up. “That should give you support. I’m not sure how you’re going to get the sneaker on but once you’re at your station, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “Tonight was just… a disaster.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with all that,” he says, sinking onto the bench next to me. 

“The whole night was a bust anyway,” I say with a shrug. “I thought maybe we were going to take the relationship to the next level but he obviously isn’t ready.”

“That’s his loss,” he says softly.

I smile sadly. “I guess. I’m just running out of time.”

He cocks his head. “For what?”

“To have a baby,” I say without looking at him. “I want to be a mom. But I’m thirty-five and also have PMOS, which is⁠—”

“Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome.”

I blink, stunned. “How did…”

“I read,” he says solemnly. “It was all over the place when they changed the name from PCOS to PMOS, so I was curious.”

“Oh.” I don’t know how to respond to that. “Well, getting pregnant will probably be difficult so I need to start now. I mean, I don’t know how long it will take me.”

“Women are having babies well into their forties these days.”

“Yes, but it’s different for me because of the PMOS.”

“So, you were going to ask Roger to be your baby daddy?”

Heat floods my cheeks. “Well, we’ve been dating for a few months, and I thought things were going well. We have a lot in common, so I hoped he might want to take the relationship further. Somehow, the conversation didn’t go as planned and suddenly he was saying stuff like, ‘I should talk to my mother about this’ and I was like, oh no no no…this is a big red flag.” I don’t know why I’m opening up like this, but he’s so easy to talk to and it feels good to be able to talk about it.

“Jesus, Luna.” He shakes his head. “Why were you even considering this with him? I mean, are you in love with him?”

I sigh, a little embarrassed now. “No. I just want a baby before it’s too late. And my life has been such a clusterfuck the last few years. I’m finally on the right track, you know? With my health issues, I can’t wait until I find the perfect guy.”

“Does he have to be perfect? Because if not, you could just ask me to do it.” His eyes twinkle, but I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat.

He’s not serious, though, so I play it off like it wouldn’t be the most amazing thing ever.

I chuckle. “Yeah, right. Like you’re in the market to make a baby with a veritable stranger.”

“I’m not not in the market. I wouldn’t be a bad dad.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” I can’t even imagine what that would be like, but I know he’s kidding. “But anyway, I’m not sure if our definitions of perfect are the same. I don’t mean perfect like movie star good-looking, a billionaire, approximately the same age, and hopelessly in love with me. I’m talking about a reasonable kind of perfect. Has a job. Actually likes me and doesn’t make comments about my weight or⁠—”

“Wait—do guys you date make comments about your weight?” He looks genuinely confused.

“Well, duh. I mean, look at me.” I motion down to my body.

“I am looking.” His eyes move over me briefly, an intensity in them that’s hard to identify, but they settle back on my gaze before I can be sure. “You’re beautiful, Luna.”

An unfamiliar flush of pleasure washes over me.

When was the last time someone that wasn’t trying to get in my pants called me beautiful? Hell, they usually don’t even do it then. 

“I’m attractive,” I concede, “but we both know today’s beauty standards don’t apply to women my size. And even if I was thin, most guys don’t like a woman that’s nearly six feet tall.”

“Fuck them and fuck that. I love a tall woman.”

Chapter Six

Rage

Luna blinks up at me, lips parted in surprise. 

Like no one’s ever said anything like that before.

Some men are really stupid, making a woman like her feel like she’s less than. Because she’s fucking gorgeous.

I didn’t see an opening like this opening up for me, and it seems like this might be the perfect time to lay some of my cards on the table. Just a few. To gauge her reaction.

“I’m a big guy,” I continue patiently. “Do you know how hard it is to have shower sex with someone more than a foot shorter than me? Or even straight missionary. I’m on top and my face is in the pillow while she’s being smothered by my chest. How is that fun?”

She looks genuinely confused for a moment, and I know I’m probably on thin ice with this conversation because I try to always be respectful. But she needs to understand that I’m not blowing smoke up her ass. 

I think she’s spectacular.

“Princess, I can’t speak for all men. And I don’t body shame or skinny shame or anything else when it comes to women. I like them all. Tall, short, curvy, thin, blonds, brunettes—it’s mostly about what’s inside. But I’m human, and we all have a preference. I’m sure you do too. Some guys like a woman with blue eyes. Some guys like a woman with huge breasts. Grim has always had a thing for blonds. Me, I like a tall woman with meat on her bones. Period. So, when I pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and smack her ass a few times, I’m not worried that she’s going to break.”

Oh, shit. What did I just say? This is totally inappropriate for the office. Several things I’ve said tonight probably are, but I won’t take them back. 

Her cheeks are bright red but she’s not acting like I’ve offended her either.

“I know this is inappropriate for co-workers, but hearing you talk about yourself like there’s something wrong with you…I couldn’t not say something.” 

She swallows but quickly shakes her head. “I think this qualifies as an appropriate conversation between…friends.”

I nod. “So, any guy who mentions your weight in a negative way doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. Especially when it’s almost definitely related to a health concern, like it is in your case.”

“How do you…” She stops and shakes her head. “You read about PMOS.”

“I try to be informed about things. For a few weeks it was all over the news, so I figured if it was important enough to make headlines, it was important enough for me to at least skim the content.”

“You’re nothing like what I imagined when we first met,” she admits quietly.

“You saw big and brawny and thought no brains, right?” I smirk.

She chuckles. “No. I thought Rage the Cage was probably an attention whore and a gym bro who didn’t care about issues like PMOS. And that was probably wrong of me, to stereotype you like that.”

“It was. Rage the Cage was a persona I used when I was fighting. The UFC likes to build a brand. But that’s not who I am. That’s one of many reasons I quit.”

“Well, I apologize for the inadvertent stereotype.”

I shrug. “Not necessary. It will take a while for us all to get to know each other.”

“Like we are now.” She looks around. “We really should get to work.”

“Yeah.” I reluctantly straighten up. “You okay to walk?”

“Yup.” She takes a step and immediately winces. “Okay, maybe not. Shit.”

I don’t wait for permission and just pick her up again. But instead of being angry, she laughs.

“Now you’re just trying to show off.”

I laugh too. “Maybe.” 

When we get to her office, I set her down on her chair and look around. “Do you need anything before I go?”

“No. I’m going to transfer all the video camera feeds here to my monitors so you guys aren’t relegated to that little office.”

“You sure? You worked all day.”

“You think this is my first all-nighter?”

“No, probably not.”

“Go.” She makes a shooing motion. “I’ll let you know if I see anything or need a break.” She reaches for her earpiece so we’ll all be connected. 

“All right. I’ll check in every now and then.”

“Great.”

I walk out of her office wishing I could stay. Talk to her some more. She may have misjudged me, but I think I also underestimated her. She comes off as this incredibly intelligent, strong, self-sufficient woman. But there’s a vulnerability to her I hadn’t anticipated. And I enjoyed being a small part of it.

She checks all my damn boxes.

So much so I almost offered to make that baby she wants with her. 

Which would be ludicrous.

Wouldn’t it?

If I’m honest, it gives me the perfect in with her. An excuse to be in her life, give her a chance to get to know me, and maybe show her that I’m not just some big, dumb bodyguard. 

I could do it though. What she doesn’t know is that I’m currently building my financial empire so I can retire early and enjoy life. I own an apartment in Greece, where I like to vacation in the summer and fall, and a small house in Key West that I rent out. I have a growing stock portfolio and despite the hefty amount I used to buy in to Shadow Security, I’m debt-free. 

To be fair, I made some decent money in endorsements as Rage the Cage. Enough to buy the place in Greece and start investing. Then the house in Key West all but fell into my lap but I paid it off in two years and now it brings in rental income. I live modestly, so my focus is on making money and spending time with my friends. 

There’s a part of me that’s a little envious of what Grim found with Allora. I worry about the circumstances under which they met—her being sex trafficked—but they’re both in therapy. I know he’s going to propose soon, because I helped him pick out the ring, but he’s playing the timing by ear. Meanwhile, we don’t spend nearly the same amount of time together. 

I wouldn’t say I’m jealous but it’s impossible not to notice that he’s not always available anymore.

And loneliness isn’t a good enough reason to get involved with someone. 

Except I want Luna. Badly. More than I’ve ever wanted any woman in the past. It’s like I have to have her. Having an excuse to touch her tonight was almost more than I could stand but now that I’ve had a taste, I need more. I just have to figure out how to make her want me the way I want her.

“She okay?” Mark asks when he sees me.

“Yeah. I think her ankle is sprained but it doesn’t look too bad. She’s going to cover surveillance for us, so we can keep our eye on the building and the blind spots.”

“Great.” He looks around. “I’ve doublechecked—everything is locked up tight for the night. But I still feel like if someone really wanted to get in, they could jimmy the delivery entrance.”

I nod. “Dan’s working on that, but honestly, no one has any reason to come here tonight. If anything, they’ll be circling the hospital.”

“Yeah.” His expression is somber. “I’m worried. We got those two threats last week and it’s hard to tell if they’re serious or not.”

Daniil gets threats every so often. He’s royalty. He’s mostly unbothered by it, it’s just now, while Courtney is so vulnerable, that he amped up security. 

“Rage?” Luna’s voice in my earpiece startles me.

“What’s up, Luna?” I ask quietly.

“There’s movement by the front gate.”

The section of the property that headquarters is located on has an unmanned gate. With cameras. So we can always see anyone who drives up.

“Vehicle or person?” I ask, moving toward the surveillance room so I can see for myself.

“Vehicle. It looks like…a motorcycle.”

I relax a little because I can only think of one group of people who would arrive at this time of night on motorcycles. Still, we have to stay cautious.

“Can you tell who it is?”

“No.”

I sit down and enlarge the video screen.

And immediately recognize the leather.

As I suspected, it’s one of the Renegade Demons.

Allora’s father’s motorcycle club. 

We’re on good terms but why are any of them here at eleven o’clock on a Friday night?

“You want me to handle it?” Mark asks.

“No, I’ll go.” I have a somewhat more intimate relationship with them after what happened to Grim at the hands of Allora’s kidnappers. They nearly killed him to get to her, and when it turned out that the person spearheading the kidnapping was a member of the club, Grim, Allora, and I were part of the group who decided his fate.

“It’s Metal,” I say, more to myself than the others. He’s a good guy who loves cars and heavy metal music. Allora likes him more than anyone else in the club, including her father, which says a lot.

I step outside as he pulls up.

“Hey.”

He yanks off his helmet and looks at me, desperation in his eyes. “I need help,” is all he says.

“What’s going on?”

“Layla’s gone.”

His pregnant girlfriend.

“Define gone.”

He runs a hand down his face. “We had a fight. She told me… she said the baby’s not mine. That she lied so I would take care of them. I told her I didn’t care, but she said some bullshit about me deserving better. I thought we’d talk some more, but when I got home from work tonight she was gone. All her stuff. The thing is—she doesn’t have much money or a car or anywhere to go. Which means she’s probably back on the street.” He hesitates. “Or getting high.”

I feel for him but there’s nothing I can do. Especially not tonight.

“Look, man, I’d love to help but Courtney is in labor. We have a skeleton crew here and there’s no one available until after Courtney is home safe.”

He nods, resignation coloring his face. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry. I just didn’t know where else to turn. The club…well, they think I’m better off without her. But they didn’t see her face, the shame and the fear that I was going to reject both her and the baby.”

“I’m sorry, man. I’d help if I could.”

“Allora said she’d help but I don’t want her out there at night. Not safe for her.”

“No.” I shake my head. “And Grim doesn’t need to be distracted when he’s watching Daniil’s back tonight.”

“Of course not.” He sets his jaw. “I guess it’s just me then.”

“Look, as soon as Courtney has the baby and we can relax security, I’m more than happy to help you search. Do you think she’s walking the same streets she walked before?” Layla is a sex worker. It’s common knowledge so I’m not speaking indelicately.

“I went there but couldn’t find her,” he admits. “I’m scared for her. What her old pimp, from before she got in with the club, might do to her.”

“Keep me posted, will you?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He gets back on his bike and heads down the street. I watch until I can’t see his taillights anymore and then go back inside.

“Everything okay?” Mark and Luna are waiting in the lobby.

I tell them what I know.

“Damn. Layla’s been doing so well,” Luna says softly.

“You know her?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah, she and Allora hang out sometimes and we had a spa night a few weekends ago. When you guys were in L.A. doing that job for Willow St. Claire.”

“Did she seem okay then?” I ask.

Luna shrugs. “She was quiet but I figured it was pregnancy-related.”

“That’s a hard life,” Mark says after a moment. “Both being a sex worker and being the old lady of a guy in a motorcycle club. Not the life for me.”

“Me either,” I agree.

Luna stares out the window and for a while we just stand there.

Finally, I say, “I guess we should get back to work.”

Everyone agrees but there’s a heaviness to the atmosphere that wasn’t there before. 

It’s frustrating because it’s not in my nature to feel helpless.

But Daniil and Courtney are the priority tonight.

Everyone else will have to wait.

Chapter Seven

Luna

Good news arrives around four-thirty in the morning.

Celeste Marianna Gustaffson was born at three twenty-nine and mother and baby are doing well. She weighed in at eight pounds and was twenty inches long. Grim and Chaos plan to stay at the hospital but Eric and Ron are going home to get a few hours’ sleep so they can relieve us. 

I’d just gotten my second wind when Rage announced he was ordering breakfast from a twenty-four-hour diner about fifteen minutes away and Mark left to go get it. 

Unfortunately, bad news arrives about ten minutes later.

Allora calls me and sounds like she’s crying.

“Metal found Layla,” she sniffles.

“Oh, no.” My heart constricts, bracing myself for what she’s about to tell me.

“She overdosed. He took her to the hospital, but it was too late. They couldn’t revive her. And the baby is gone too.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” They’ve become close over the last couple of months.

“I’m going to the hospital to be with Metal. He’s a mess.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I think my dad is going to join me there, see if we can do anything for him.”

“Call if you need me.”

“I will. Thanks.” She disconnects and I stare at my monitors for a few minutes without really seeing anything. 

Layla’s death is incredibly sad. I don’t know her that well, we’ve only hung out twice, but she seemed sweet. Excited to start this new phase of her life with Metal. Happy about getting sober and becoming a mom. 

I didn’t see this coming at all.

And now it’s going to cast a shadow on the celebration of Daniil and Courtney’s new baby. I can’t imagine what Metal is going through, and plan to talk to Allora to see if there’s anything we can do once the initial shock wears off.

“Food’s here.” I hear Rage’s voice in my earpiece and have just gotten to my feet when he says, “Luna, stay where you are. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply sarcastically, though it’s lighthearted. I know he means well and is just worried about my ankle. The ice has helped, though, along with Tylenol. 

“Hey.” Rage comes in holding a huge bag of food and my eyes widen.

“Is all that for me?” 

“For us,” he says, chuckling. He puts it down on the credenza against the wall and starts pulling out containers. 

“Metal found Layla,” I say softly.

There must be something in the tone of my voice because he stops moving and turns slowly. “She ok?”

“No.” I shake my head, and to my horror, my eyes fill with tears. Like saying it out loud somehow makes it more real.

“Ah, shit.” He stares, his expression filled with regret.

I wipe away a tear that’s sliding down my cheek, and he walks over to me. Then he just opens his arms. And waits.

Before I can stop myself, I’m up and my face is burrowed into his shoulder. His strength and warmth comfort me, and I bury my face in his strong, hard shoulder. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to a man who made me feel delicate. Feminine. Small. 

One hand strokes down my back, and he murmurs something against my hair that sounds like, “it’s okay, princess,” but I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s been a long, somewhat depressing day, and he’s giving me a literal shoulder to cry on. 

Not only that, he smells good. 

Whether it’s his deodorant or some kind aftershave, he smells clean and woodsy. All masculine strength and power. That’s probably a ridiculous metaphor, but that’s what it seems like to me. 

I really need to get away from him before I say or do something stupid.

“Thank you,” I whisper, finally pulling away and grabbing a tissue. “It’s been a tough day. And it’s twice as hard knowing Layla overdosed without even thinking about the child she was carrying.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” he says, perching on the edge of my desk and crossing his feet. “Obviously, she had issues. Trauma. Addiction. Things we probably have no idea about. I’m sure battling those can feel insurmountable.”

“But she had Metal!” I protest. “Someone who really loved her.”

“I don’t know that love is enough in some circumstances. Demons like hers undoubtedly haunted her day and night. I had a buddy in the military who saw some bad shit. Got captured. Tortured. By the time he went home, he was a shell of his former self. Eventually, despite a loving wife, four kids, and lots of friends willing to help, he killed himself.”

“I’m sorry for you and for your friend,” I whisper.

“Thanks.” He reaches out and pushes an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “And I’m sorry about Layla. I didn’t really know her, but Metal must be devastated.”

“Allora’s on her way to be with him. Her dad will be there too.”

“He’s going to need a lot of support.”

“Death is always difficult but when it’s someone so young…and the baby…” I feel like I’m going to cry again, but I shake it off. “I just want to think about Celeste. And happy things.”

“That’s probably a better plan than the alternative.”

I sink into my chair and rub my eyes. “I’m equally exhausted and wound up.”

“Stress, grief, maybe even the pain from your ankle are all adding to that. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.”

“Well, that’s not happening for another few hours, so let’s eat.”

He goes back to taking containers out of the bag and I realize he’s ordered himself two full breakfasts, along with an order of pancakes and an extra order of biscuits.”

“I hope you like biscuits,” he says. “I can’t eat all these.”

I ordered oatmeal and a muffin.

But the biscuits look really good, and I snatch one out of the basket. 

“I’ll never say no to biscuits,” I admit. “I make them from scratch when I have time.”

“Yeah?” He cocks his head. “That sounds like something I have to try.”

“I’ll make them sometime and bring them in for everyone.”

I open my oatmeal and sprinkle brown sugar on it. I’m suddenly ravenous, and Rage appears to be as well. He pulls up a chair and we eat in silence for a while. Well, I nibble on my muffin in between bites of oatmeal while he pretty much inhales eggs, bacon, potatoes and hash browns, four pancakes, and four biscuits. It’s kind of fascinating to watch, especially for a guy in such good shape. 

My phone buzzes on the desk, and I see Roger’s name pop up.

More out of curiosity than anything else, I open the text.

ROGER: I don’t know if you’re still working or asleep, but I’ve been up all night thinking about you. About your proposal. About us. I’m so sorry about the way I handled everything, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to see you, discuss options. Please give me a call when you see this.

I stare at it, more amused than anything else at this point.

“What’s funny?” Rage asks.

“Roger.”

He grunts. “Please tell me that little prick didn’t just reach out at—” He stops and looks at his watch. “Five ten in the morning.”

“He did.”

“And?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he apologized for how he handled things and asked if we could talk. He said he’s changed his mind.”

“Changed his mind?” He puts down his fork and fixes me with an intense glare. “You’re not seriously going to give him another chance.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably not, but I think I’ll at least listen to what he has to say.”

“Why? Not only did he turn you down, he was completely useless in an emergency. He didn’t even help you to your car.”

He has a point but I don’t have many options.

“Like I said earlier, I can’t afford to wait for the perfect guy.”

“Then your standards are too low.”

“A guy like you would never understand.”

“A guy like me?” He folds his arms over his chest. “What does that mean?”

“Look at you!” I wave a hand in his general direction. “All tall and muscley and gorgeous…women probably throw themselves at you. That doesn’t happen to me. With men, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll fuck the big girl—they just won’t marry her. Or even agree to have a baby with her.”

Rage is quiet for what seems like an inordinately long time.

He stares at me, his gaze growing increasingly intense. Like whatever he’s planning to say is extremely important. Finally, he slowly stands up and walks over to me.

Looming over me since I’m still in my chair, he’s a bit intimidating. He puts his hands on the back of the chair on either side of my shoulders, his voice low as he looks down at me.

“If you need someone to put a baby in you, then the only one doing that is going to be me.”

Chapter Eight

Rage

I should be back pedaling, but for some reason, I refuse. Somewhere deep down, I knew from the moment she told me about her plan that I would offer myself up. The idea that some jerk who has no idea how to handle a woman like her is going to be the one to get her pregnant is ridiculous. More than I can stand. She’s a hell of a woman and this Roger prick doesn’t deserve her.

Obviously, there’s a lot to discuss, and I haven’t thought that far ahead, but she’s not taking me seriously.

“This is a joke, right?” She demands. “We barely know each other!”

“Well, I guess that’s going to have to change.

“Rage, we can’t just randomly make a baby.”

“That’s what you were going to do with Roger,” I point out.

“Roger and I were actually in a relationship, even if it turned out not to be a good one!”

“You said it didn’t have to be the perfect guy, and I can’t promise you perfection, but I’ll be a giving lover, a good provider, and an even better co-parent.”

She frowns and I have the strangest urge to kiss her. Her lips are wet, like she just licked them, and her pretty blue eyes are trained on mine. 

But this isn’t the right moment.

If we’re going to make a baby, there will be plenty of opportunities for kissing.

She has to agree first. 

“Okay, stop fucking with me. This is ludicrous.”

“Why?”

She throws up her hands. Luckily, this time she’s not holding a pair of shoes with heels thick enough to leave a mark if they hit me. “Because you don’t just walk into the office of a coworker and announce it like it’s just another day.”

“I didn’t. We’ve been talking about the situation on and off all night. It’s perfectly reasonable.”

“It’s not.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.” I perch on the edge of her desk again. “You get pregnant, I make sure you have everything you need, and then we figure out how to co-parent. Maybe figure out if we like each other in the process.”

“Of course we like each other!” She glares at me. “But this…I mean, it’s insane. Who does this?”

“Us?” I cock my head curiously. 

“Even if I didn’t think this was crazy…what about the getting pregnant part?”

A laugh rumbles out of me. “Princess, that’s the easy part.”

Her face is serious as she slowly shakes her head. “Actually, it’s not. It’s probably going to be the hard part for me. That’s why it’s so important for me to start now. Before I get any older. And then there’s the part about the sex.”

The sex? What on earth is she talking about?

“I’m not sure I’m following,” I say slowly. “All kidding aside, are you worried that the sex is going to be bad or that the necessity to have sex regularly is somehow a problem?”

“Would you even want to have sex with me?”

“Princess, I’m pretty sure I’ve answered that question multiple times tonight, just by virtue of how beautiful I think you are.”

She frowns but then seems to deflect. “We’d want to maximize our chances by keeping track of my ovulation, which doesn’t happen often. So, when it does, we’d have to⁠—”

“Get right to it.” I nod. “That’s only a problem if I’m out of town, but that’s one part of this we can’t control because you occasionally travel too. I can request that I only take local assignments short-term, but some of the other guys have families, so we’re going to have to split the travel among all of us.”

“Yeah.” Despite saying yes, she’s shaking her head. “But what will we tell our friends? Our co-workers? Oh yeah, no biggie, Rage and I barely know each other but decided to have a baby…that sounds crazy. It is crazy.”

“That’s not what we’d tell people,” I say patiently. “We’re dating. You get pregnant. Guess we’re going to be serious. What we say or do privately is none of anyone’s business.”

She stares, eyes narrowed as if she can’t figure me out.

“You know you’re going to agree,” I say. “So why all the posturing? Just say yes and let’s get into the nitty-gritty.”

Her eyes widen. “Here?”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Not that nitty-gritty. The part where I should get a physical and some bloodwork done before we start getting naked without protection.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks are a delightful shade of pink. “Rage. Elliott.”

Uh oh. She’s pulling out my real name. Whatever’s coming should be interesting.

“This is a lifelong commitment. Child support might only last eighteen years but he or she will be your kid forever.”

“I can afford it.” 

“And it might get messy. What if I don’t get pregnant for…a year?”

“I think we’re circling back to the whole thing where sex is fun. I mean, do you think you’re not going to enjoy the getting pregnant part?”

“I don’t…always.” Her expression is guarded, like she’s embarrassed about this.

But of all the things to worry about, her pleasure isn’t even in the top five.

“You will,” I promise gruffly. “That’s one thing I can promise you.”

“Well, you can’t go out with other women while we’re together!” she blurts.

“Believe me, I don’t have time to be jumping into bed with different women. I’m still pretty damn good, but I’m not seventeen.”

“Maybe not, but what if you get bored…with… me?”

There it is—the vulnerability she keeps so well-hidden most of the time. 

“Princess, there isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to get bored. Can you at least try to believe that?”

She nods, but I can tell she’s still hesitant. I don’t know what I have to do to make her agree because the more this sits with me, the more I know it’s the right move. I said it as a joke earlier but it stuck with me, and when the words slipped out a second time, it instantly became real. Imagining her pregnant with my child gives me a semi. The thought of Roger—or anyone that isn’t me—knocking her up is physically painful. I literally can’t even imagine it now that this idea has taken hold.

“Just tell me what’s on your mind,” I say finally. “The truth. Whatever it is. If you don’t like guys with muscles. If you think people are going to talk shit about us. Whatever it is, spit it out.”

“I like who I am,” she says carefully. “I’ve come to accept my body and the hormonal things this disease does to it. I’m extremely intelligent and hardworking, but I’m also quirky as fuck. My hair will probably never be the same color—well, until I get pregnant. Then I’ll stop dying it until the baby comes.”

I don’t comment, waiting for her to get out whatever it is that’s causing her hesitation.

“And I love sex. I’m down for almost anything with a serious partner, but since we wouldn’t be in a romantic relationship, I’m already uncomfortable thinking about you seeing me naked. And—” She continues, lifting a hand to stop me when I open my mouth. “—I have a past. I’m not talking about body count, either.”

“We’ll get back to your body in a minute,” I say. “But what kind of past?”

“The kind that got me arrested. That got my records sealed. That forced me into bankruptcy. And a lot of other things you don’t know.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t murder anyone.”

She gives me a wry smile. “No. This is about my past as a hacker.”

“I already know about all that. Not the details but that you have a checkered past. It’s irrelevant.”

“Elliott.” She says my name like she’s being patient with me. As if I’m a little slow on the uptake. “You’re familiar with the dark web, right?”

“Yes.”

“They used to call me the Cipher Whisperer. I could find anything. Hack anything. Other hackers wanted to be me. Security experts hated me. Law enforcement was desperate to find me.”

“And they did.”

“Yes.”

“Did you go to prison?” My chest tightens at the thought of it, but she shakes her head.

“Almost, but no. The FBI gave me a choice—work for them or never work with computers again. And I chose the latter.”

“Why?”

“Because…” She blows out a breath. “It’s way too complicated to get into tonight.”

“Does Daniil know?”

“Daniil knows everything. In fact, he came looking for me. And that’s another thing. On paper, I am Shadow Security’s administrative assistant. Technically, I’m still not supposed to be working on computers.”

“Why weren’t we told?” I ask abruptly. “What if something had come up when the feds were here because of Allora and the sex trafficking ring? It could have outed you!”

She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “They wouldn’t easily recognize me. I don’t look the same, and back then my name wasn’t Luna.”

Chapter Nine

Luna

Secrets are dangerous. I know that and I’m sure Rage does too, but as he sits there, still perched against my desk, he doesn’t seem overly concerned. 

“You’re Luna to me,” he says quietly. 

“You have to understand that I’m in witness protection and⁠—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts. “I kind of figured. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is who you are now.”

I stare for a beat.

I never dreamed someone like Rage would be willing to do this with me. Not just making the baby but it sounds like he wants to date? I need to clarify, because this is overwhelming. And hell, I was willing to settle for Roger. Rage is a million times better than him, in every way that matters. A gorgeous man who’ll hopefully get me pregnant and then stay around to be a father to the baby. Maybe even…be a real couple? How is that possible? Rage couldn’t want me like that.

Would he? It almost sounds like it, which is baffling. It can’t be possible.

Of course, I thought working cyber security would be impossible too, but look at me now.

When Daniil found me, my luck changed in so many ways. I was working at a big chain electronics store, selling computers. I didn’t have anything to do with coding—it was all about the quality and quantity of RAM and CPUs and graphics cards. 

He bought me a cup of coffee and told me I was infamous in Europe. That his friend who used to be in the CIA heard good things about me. Because even though I broke the law, I did it for all the right reasons. If I wanted to work for him, to continue the work of taking down bad guys, he would protect me. And pay me more than I’ve ever made before in the process. 

Essentially, he invited me to be part of something important. 

Because Shadow Security isn’t just about protecting rich people—it’s about protecting the poor, the underrepresented, and the vulnerable. Women who need to get away from abusive husbands. Runaways who desperately need help getting started in life. Sex workers who are ready to make a change. 

That’s the work we’re going to be doing behind the scenes once we’re fully operational. The big clients will pay to run the business—everything else is about making changes in the world, in whatever way we can.

I took a leap of faith to come work here.

And now it seems like I’m about to do it again.

“I don’t know how we do this,” I admit finally. “Like, do you just show up to my apartment ready to have sex?” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t think I’m built that way.”

He nods. “Of course not. We’d spend time getting to know each other. And the timing is fortuitous. I need to make an appointment with my doctor and get bloodwork done anyway, which probably won’t happen for a week or so. Then it’ll take the lab a few days to send the results. That gives us a little time.”

To my horror, my eyes fill with tears. He’s not just gorgeous and sweet, he’s thoughtful. And he’s serious about this. Which is absolutely flabbergasting. This beautiful, powerful, hunk of a man wants to make a baby with me.

“You’re sure?” I whisper, trying to keep the tears puddling in my eyes from falling. 

“Of course, I’m sure.”

“What happens if you change your mind? We can break up but the baby will still need its daddy.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not going to happen. If we make a baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If we do this, I want to be sure to sign something saying I’m not entitled to any of your assets, and you aren’t entitled to mine. If you want to start a trust or something for the baby, that’s a separate thing, but we both need to protect ourselves.”

He nods. “Of course. I’ll help with whatever you need—from the basics like diapers to the bigger things like a college savings account that we contribute to equally. I know you have health insurance but I’m willing to put the baby on mine if you want.”

“There are a lot of details,” I admit. “But I’d like both of us to be protected legally. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“What if you meet someone and fall in love?”

He shrugs. “If I didn’t think we’d be good together, I wouldn’t have offered. You’ll need time to figure this out, but you can trust me, Luna.”

“I want to. I just don’t have a lot of good experiences with men.”

 “I understand that. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you otherwise.”

How can I say no?

The truth is, I can’t.

“I guess we can talk about this some more, while we get bloodwork done and all that.”

He smiles. “Then I’d like to take you to dinner one night this week. Let’s figure out the schedule once Daniil and Courtney are back and we’ll go from there.”

“I’d like that.”

I watch him gather up the remnants of our breakfast and take it all out, and then I drum my fingers on the desk. The night didn’t start or end the way I expected it to. 

I’m potentially going to have a baby.

With Rage.

With Rage the Cage.

With Elliott.

He’s so good-looking it hurts. As far as I’m concerned, he’s perfect. I’ve always found him handsome and a little bossy, but it never occurred to me he might be interested in me as a woman. I never dreamed my thoughts about him could ever be more than a fantasy.

The truth is, I’ve never had trouble getting dates. Relationships have proven to be a lot more difficult but dating is easy. I just don’t typically enjoy it. And sex is tricky because a guy has to know what he’s doing to get me off. That’s secondary, though. 

The biggest obstacle, aside from my weight being a deterrent, will be the plethora of secrets I harbor.

I’ve told him the basics and that Daniil found me through high-level government channels. And if Daniil found me, that means other people could too.

Because of that, and myriad other reasons, it’s been easier to refrain from getting close to anyone, but here at Shadow Security we have to trust each other. And anyone doing even a rudimentary background check would discover that the real Luna Gallagher was born and died at four days old in 1990. 

I was fairly certain Roger would never do any type of background check, so he only needed to know Luna, but it’s different with Rage. I don’t want to keep secrets from him but I’m not sure if it’s safe to tell him the rest.

Which means I’m going to have to talk to Daniil. 

I’ll wait until he and Courtney have had a week or so to settle into being parents of two, but that will give us time to get our physicals and talk to an attorney.

At that point, if everything goes according to plan, I’m going to start sleeping with Rage the Cage.

I almost giggle at the thought. 

I’m not a big fan of boxing or UFC or even MMA, but when Allora started talking about Rage the Cage, I had to look him up. I winced every time he took a punch, but man, he was absolutely intense when he fought. It was mesmerizing, even for someone like me who doesn’t know anything about the sport.

Something tells me my life is about to change in ways I never considered. 

The real question, though, is whether or not I’ll actually get pregnant. That’s what scares me. 

PMOS is a hormonal issue that affects the ovaries, but it can also impact other parts of the body. Essentially, the body doesn’t make enough of the hormone needed to ovulate, and when ovulation doesn’t happen, small cysts form on the ovaries. These cysts produce androgens, which are normally found in men. Women have them in small amounts, but when you have PMOS, you wind up with an abundance. 

It causes problems with my periods, weight gain, oily skin, and infertility. There are other, more serious symptoms, as well, like thinning hair or extra hair, and a much higher chance of ovarian cancer.

Thankfully, I haven’t experienced any of that, but my periods are a hot mess. Sometimes, I’ll go six months without one. Then I’ll get one that lasts for four or five weeks. And I bleed heavily, which is so uncomfortable. 

I’ve managed my symptoms for a long time with birth control pills, but once I decided to get pregnant, I stopped taking them several months ago. 

And the disease has wreaked havoc on my body ever since. 

My OBGYN said she’ll do everything she can to help me, but there are things I should be doing too.

Like working out and eating healthier.

I try but it’s hard to find time to exercise when I work so many hours. It’s equally hard to take the time to make healthy meals. I’m better than I used to be but I know I have to keep working on it. 

Maybe now that I have someone like Rage in my life, I’ll have the motivation I haven’t had in the past. Of course, watching him eat this morning, I don’t think he’ll be helpful in that regard. Everyone here eats a lot. All the time. I kind of hate them—they eat whatever they want and still stay slim. Yes, they work out, but I’ve worked out on and off for most of my life and I rarely lose more than five pounds.

I’d like to be in better shape before I get pregnant.

Suddenly, I have an idea.

Maybe Rage could teach me to fight.

Not the kind of fighting he does, but the kind that helps you work up a sweat and get stronger. After what happened to Allora, getting kidnapped and almost sex trafficked, we’ve discussed self-defense classes, but this would be more than that. Something Rage and I could share. 

Beyond sex.

And a kid.

I don’t know if he’d be willing but I’ll ask. It can’t hurt and maybe it will help us get to know each other better in a way that has nothing to do with work, procreating, or even parenting.

Just two people sharing something important to both—he loves to fight and I need to learn how for myriad reasons. 

Hopefully, I won’t make a fool of myself in the process.

Chapter Ten

Rage

Between the new baby and all of us pitching in to pick up the slack for Daniil and Courtney, I haven’t had much time to think about Luna and everything we talked about. Much to my frustration, I’m not thinking about it much today either, because a group of us just left the beach. 

Metal had Layla’s remains cremated and he said she loved the beach, so he spread her ashes there. It was hard to know what to say or do, because Metal is devastated on multiple levels. She lied to him about the baby being his, broke things off, and then apparently killed herself. 

Then he told us that he doesn’t believe she killed herself.

We’ve been talking about it amongst ourselves but it’s hard to know what was going on with her. Allora knew her best and even she says it doesn’t make sense, because Metal told her he didn’t care that the baby wasn’t his. He knew it was possible but they were hopeful. Then she admitted she’d lied about how far along she was, that she was nearly a month more pregnant than she told him. 

“He told her it was okay,” Allora says when we get back to headquarters. “He said he didn’t mind because the baby is what got them together.”

“If we take everything we know as fact,” Grim says cautiously. “Then suicide doesn’t make sense.”

“Except she was an addict,” I interject quietly. “And we all know how strong the pull of addiction is.”

“She was clean,” Allora says firmly. “And she said it was the first time in her life she didn’t feel the need to get high. That Metal and the baby were more important than anything else.”

“Okay, so going back to the idea that all of this is factual, what does it mean? Did someone kill her? Force her to shoot up? The tox screen they did showed a heroin overdose. So, how could that have happened?”

No one says anything because it’s impossible to know what happened and conjecture isn’t productive at this point. Deep down, I think we all know the truth but Metal is looking for answers where there may not be any. The only thing that gives me pause is Allora’s take.

She and Layla were friends. Allora was planning a baby shower for her. They talked all the time. It doesn’t make sense that she would go from excitedly planning her future to suicide. 

I watch as Silver, Metal, and a group of leather-clad bikers pull up to the building.

Jesus, Metal looks rough. Like he hasn’t eaten or showered in days. 

I guess I can’t blame him. 

Death is never easy. 

Suicide is even worse. 

Believing that someone may have killed the woman he loved has to be devastating.

Allora and Metal have known each other since middle school, and he’s one of the only members of the club she has a relationship with, other than her father. She doesn’t want anything to do with that lifestyle, and I don’t blame her, but today she seems oblivious to everything but her friend’s pain. 

“I don’t know what to say to him,” Luna says, coming to stand beside me as we wait for everyone to come in. Silver said he and his officers wanted to talk to us about something. 

“I don’t think it’s about what we say—it’s more about just being present. Supportive. In whatever way he needs.”

“Death makes me uncomfortable.”

“I think it makes us all uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I’ve seen enough to where I just do my best to grieve in private while offering support to whomever needs it.”

She nods. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t really know him, and I only met her a few times. She was just so young…”

“Yeah.” I stare out at the water, thinking about the men I lost in combat. The men I killed in combat. So many of both. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to get out of there physically unscathed. 

“Do you ever think about dying?” she asks quietly.

“I used to,” I admit. “When I was in the Middle East. Now, I just put one foot in front of the other. No point in thinking about that kind of thing.”

“I went through a dark time in my life when I thought about death a lot. For a while, I think I wanted to die because I couldn’t deal with the stress.”

“But you got through it.”

“I did.”

Our eyes meet, and I feel that same pull to touch her, hold her, let her and the rest of the world know she belongs to me. Because she does. She just doesn’t know it yet. 

“Guys, we’re gonna get started.” Daniil motions to us and we all make our way into the conference room. 

“What’s going on?” I ask once we’re settled.

“It’s not good.” Silver is quiet for a beat. “Another one of our girls was found dead this morning.”

“Another one?” Allora breathes, her face tightening with worry. “Who?”

“Desi.”

“She’s been around forever,” Allora says, frowning. “She’s about a decade older than me. I didn’t know her well, but she was a club bunny for a long time and then started turning tricks.”

“Preliminary info I got from my contact at the police department is that it was another overdose,” Silver adds, his jaw tightening.

“What?” Allora shakes her head. “Desi never did drugs. She barely drank. Everyone used to tease her about it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” Silver rests his forearms on the table. “This doesn’t feel right. I’m not the paranoid type but two of our girls, less than a week apart.”

“So two sex workers, both affiliated with the club, overdosing under mysterious circumstances,” I say thoughtfully. “This looks like a pattern. With just Layla, it could have gone either way, but this is problematic.”

“Why would anyone be targeting your girls?” Daniil asks pointedly.

“The club has a lot of enemies,” Silver says quietly. 

“It’s one of many reasons I keep my distance,” Allora says. “If they’ve pissed someone off, this could be retaliatory.”

“It’s awful,” Luna interjects. “I mean, those women already have such hard lives. And if someone did that to Layla…”

“They did do it,” Metal growls, hands balled into fists as they rest on the table. “And now we have to do something to find out who.”

“Get me Desi’s full name,” Luna says, opening her laptop. “Date of birth. Anything you know.”

“Desdemona Blume,” Allora says. “I think she was thirty-eight or thirty-nine.”

Luna types into her laptop, frowning slightly.

“Okay, she was actually thirty-seven, turning thirty-eight in December.” Luna studies her screen. “It says here she was arrested about ten years ago, did three months in county jail for shoplifting, and seems to have been on the straight and narrow since then. Besides the sex work stuff, I guess.”

“Desi was a good girl,” Silver says solemnly. “She never caused trouble. Always helped out at the clubhouse if we needed something done, loved all the kids…this isn’t right.”

“What can we do?” Daniil asks after a beat.

“I need help on the street.” He hesitates. “I know from the outside looking in, we’re a motorcycle club with no ethics, no rules. But that’s not true. Yeah, we live by our own code, but we also don’t get involved with outsiders unless we have to. The idea to start playing pimps to a bunch of hookers came from them. They approached us—Desi was the one leading the pack because she was a club bunny back then. She said it had gotten dangerous out there. 

“Pimps took half their money and they got robbed, beat up, and occasionally worse. They offered us ten percent for protection. Nothing else. We didn’t have to find them johns or provide a place for them to do their thing—they just needed the appearance of protection from guys no one wants to fuck with. For us, it was easy money and doing something that might border on the right thing.” He glances at his daughter and holds up a hand when she opens her mouth. 

“The thing is, those specific girls would be turning tricks regardless. We just eliminated some of the danger. But the truth is, I don’t have the manpower to physically watch every one of them, every night they work. I send out two guys every Saturday because it’s the busiest night. They know they can call us at any time, day or night, if they get into a situation. Mostly, we take care of them by reputation. Those are our girls, don’t fuck with them. To lose two girls, both by overdose, in the span of a week…something is off.” He puts an envelope of money on the table. 

Daniil doesn’t look at the money and instead meets Silver’s eyes. 

“What do you need?” he asks quietly. “If it’s illegal, I can’t put my men in that position. However, if you want me to put a couple of guys on the street to start asking around, seeing if there’s talk about someone targeting club girls, I can do that. They can also be available if the girls get into trouble.”

He looks away. “Honestly, I don’t know exactly what I need. I just need help. The girls are self-sufficient. Anyone hassles them, they mention my name and it goes away. This is…new. Different. I don’t know how to handle it.”

“I’m happy to be on call,” I say quietly. “If they get into trouble, anyone starts hassling them, I don’t live far. Give them my number.”

“Same,” Chaos says, since he joined us for the meeting.

“Me too,” Grim adds.

“The guys travel quite a bit,” Daniil says, “but if you give the girls the emergency number, that phone is answered twenty-four-seven and we can always reach someone.”

“I appreciate that.” Silver nods as he slowly gets to his feet. “Let me know what you find.”

“Will do.” Daniil walks out with Silver and his men but the rest of us stay seated.

“I didn’t have pimp-for-an-MC on this year’s bingo card,” Chaos says with a smirk. “Think it’ll look good on my resume?”

Everyone chuckles but underneath there’s worry.

Because if someone is targeting club girls—and that’s essentially what they are—there could be something more sinister at play. 

Something none of us counted on when Daniil decided to settle and build his company here in Sage Canyon.

Chapter Eleven

Luna

I stare into my closet like it somehow offended me because I don’t see a single thing that would be appropriate to wear for a date with Rage. Skirt. Dress. Jeans? None of it seems right. We’re going to dinner and then he said maybe a walk on the beach. 

What the hell do you wear to a popular fancy restaurant followed by a walk on the beach? It could be windy, which means a skirt or dress might blow up. I’ll also have to take off my shoes to walk in the sand. And with Rage, I can comfortably wear heels, so I really want to.

I’m still staring at my closet when there’s a knock on the door. I whirl, staring at the clock. I’m running late and he’s ten minutes early.

Shit.

Luckily, my hair and makeup are done—I just have to figure out what to wear.

Pulling my robe tight around me, I hurry to the door. 

“Hey. I need a few more minutes,” I say as I throw it open.

“No problem.” He’s standing there looking like sex on a stick, biceps bulging through his button-down shirt. 

“Make yourself at home,” I say before closing my bedroom door and going back to the offending closet. “Time to decide,” I murmur. I pull out a navy-blue dress with white piping down the sides. It’s fitted but slimming and I feel confident in it. I also have a pair of strappy white high-heeled sandals to wear with it. 

I dress quickly, slipping my feet into my shoes and then staring in the mirror for a beat. This is as good as it’s going to get, and he’s either going to think I look nice or he won’t. I can’t control how he feels, and I have to remember that. As much as I like him, I still have to put my mental health first. 

I barely know this guy. He only knows the basics about me and my past. The idea is to get to know each other. I understand that intellectually, but emotions are a totally different thing. And I don’t know that I’m as prepared as I think I am. 

Because I really like him.

Rage lets out a low whistle when I walk into the room, eyes moving over me in what I can only describe as a possessive way. 

“That’s a great dress,” he says, reaching out to press a light kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you.” I smile up at him, acutely aware of his hand at my waist. The way he’s looking at me. The heat radiating off of him even though he’s barely touching me.

“You going to be okay in those heels with your ankle?” he asks quietly.

“Ankle is fine, thankfully. And if we do go walk on the beach, I’ll take them off.”

“Good plan.” To my surprise, he takes my hand as we leave the apartment and waits for me to lock up. Then we take the elevator down and walk to the parking lot. His SUV is parked out front and he uses a key fob to unlock it, though he still opens the door and helps me in.

“Such a gentleman,” I say softly.

“I try.” He walks around to the driver’s side and gets in, then starts the SUV. “Do you mind the drive to Oceanside? This restaurant has great reviews.”

“Not at all. I go into Oceanside all the time. There are some great restaurants and I’ve been wanting to try this one.”

We talk about food and restaurants we’ve been to, and he’s just as easy to talk to when we’re out as he is at work. He’s well-read, well-traveled, and laid back, so it doesn’t feel like I have to fight to be heard. 

I’m starting to relax by the time we get to the restaurant and, once again, he comes around to my side to get the door for me. He helps me out and then takes my hand, leaving the SUV with the valet and leading me inside. 

It’s a Thursday night and the place is busy, but Rage made a reservation. We’re taken to a nice table in the back, overlooking the water, and I can’t help but get caught up in the romance of it all. 

“Wine?” Rage asks, picking up the extensive list. 

“Sounds lovely.” 

He chooses a Joel Gott 815 Cabernet Sauvignon, surprising me with his knowledge about several of the wines on the list. 

“There are perks to being a bodyguard to the rich and famous,” he says. “And having a good friend that’s married to royalty.”

I chuckle. “I imagine that’s true. Have you been to the palace in Limaj?” That’s where Daniil is from. 

“Quite a few times. Usually not for fun, although there’s been some of that over the years. King Erik and Queen Casey are good people.”

“It’s interesting to hear you talk about an actual king and queen like they’re regular people.”

“They are regular people. I mean, Casey’s American. She married into that life, and honestly, after so many years in exile, Erik is doing his best to walk the line between being a leader and just a good human being.”

“I don’t know that I’d be up for a job like that.”

“Me either.” He shakes his head. “I’m a lot happier being in the background. Helping quietly, in whatever way they need. We talked about moving to Limaj. Grim and I. Maybe joining the Royal Protectors.”

“They’re the special bodyguards to the royal family, right?”

He nods. “Yeah. But then Courtney and Daniil got back together, and they decided to open Shadow Security. Grim and I knew this was where we needed to be.”

“I’m glad. Otherwise, we never would have met.”

His eyes flick to mine across the table and there’s a moment of…something. It’s hard to describe. Not a lightning strike of passion or anything. More of a gentle breeze of recognition. And it speaks to a story that hasn’t yet begun. 

Luckily, the waiter arrives with the bottle of wine before either of us say anything. I watch him pour the dark red liquid and take a sip when he hands me a glass.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” I say with a happy sigh. “There’s nothing better than a good glass of wine. That’s probably the one thing I’ll miss once I get pregnant.”

“If it makes you feel better, I won’t drink while you’re pregnant either.”

I blink. “You don’t have to do that,” I say in confusion.

He frowns. “It’s only fair. You’ll be doing the hard work, so the least I can do is be supportive. I don’t want to be sitting there enjoying good wine while you watch.”

I flush. For some reason, his thoughtfulness warms me. Hell, everything about him warms me. Especially now.

“The world doesn’t stop for one pregnant woman.”

“No, but I wouldn’t do it for just any pregnant woman—I’d only do it for my pregnant woman.”

His pregnant woman.

Those kinds of words are dangerous. 

I need to nip this in the bud now.

“Can I be honest about something?” I ask quietly.

“Of course.”

“I…” Oh, this is hard, but maybe if I admit what I’m feeling he’ll understand. If it makes him change his mind about baby-making, that’s okay too. I’d rather know now than after I’m already pregnant. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time.” I swallow, though I lift my chin. Honesty can’t be a bad thing under the circumstances.

To my surprise, he smiles. “That’s good to know.”

“How come?”

“Because I’ve had a crush on you for a long time.”

“You have?” I frown. Guys like Rage rarely pay attention to me, much less have crushes on me. I don’t know what to do with this information.

“Why do you look so confused? You think I’d offer to procreate if I didn’t already like you?”

“But…we barely know each other.”

“Which is why we’re taking things one step at a time. Spending time together, talking about the important things, seeing lawyers. That way, if it turns out we’re not compatible, the baby is protected. You and I will figure out the rest.”

“You mean… you actually want to…date?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“I don’t know. I thought…”

“You thought I volunteered to make a baby with a woman I didn’t have any interest in?”

“I thought maybe you felt…sorry for me.”

He rolls his eyes. “If I just felt sorry for you, I’d have started asking around, seeing if any of my friends were interested in being dads.” He pauses. “But when I said I was going to be the only man to put a baby in you—what did you think that meant?”

“That you’re a little bossy.”

He grins. “Oh, you have no idea, princess. Bossy doesn’t even begin to cover it. While we’re together, we’re together. I can be a jealous man, if provoked.”

“I have no reason to provoke you. Not like that anyway.” I’m feeling a little flirtatious all of a sudden.

“Good to know.” His smile is as disarming as ever and I’m enthralled. 

He’s very easy on the eyes, so I never gave a lot of thought to who he is as a man, beyond how tough he has to be to do what he does. Yet the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. And apparently, he likes me too. 

“I feel like we need to start over,” I say after a moment. “I didn’t know exactly where I stood with you as far as relationships go, and I was too nervous to ask directly.”

“Okay, then let’s start over.” He smiles and extends his hand. “My name is Elliott Rageis. Nice to meet you.” 

I laugh and shake it. “I’m Luna Gallagher.”

We’re cut off as the waiter appears with an appetizer and takes our entrée orders. 

From there, the conversation is even easier. As if starting over somehow flipped a switch for both of us. Probably more for me than him, but this feels like a real date. Two people who want to spend time together outside of work and get to know each other beyond a surface-level attraction or even a deal to become parents.

I love the fact that he had no trouble admitting he’s had a crush on me. If I was expecting awkward, I would have been disappointed. 

Because there is nothing awkward about Elliott Rageis.

“I don’t know what to call you,” I say after our entrees arrive. “Calling you Rage feels so impersonal, but that’s what everyone calls you.”

“You can call me Rage at work and Elliott when we’re alone, if that makes it easier.”

“What about Rage the Cage?” I tease. “Is there a time I should use that one?”

He chuckles. “When we’re naked, you can call me anything you want.”

Chapter Twelve

Rage

She’s delightful.

I enjoy the way she goes between sassy and confident, and shy and unsure. In my opinion, it’s humanizing. Most women I’ve dated don’t allow themselves to show any vulnerability at all in the beginning. Luna is the opposite. She knows who and what she is and doesn’t pretend to be anything else.

I love a tall, curvy woman, but that kind of physical attraction is different from what I feel for Luna. I could be attracted to ten different women on any given day. But I don’t randomly offer to make babies with them.

What I feel for her goes so far beyond that part of it. It’s just too damn soon to say those things. First, she has to learn that she can trust me. Once I get past that obstacle, it’ll be easier.

“Did you want to walk on the beach?” I ask as we leave the restaurant. 

“Sure. It’s a beautiful night.”

It’s June and though it’s warm during the day, it’s cool and breezy at night. 

The beach is just a block away and we pause on the sidewalk to take off our shoes. Then we step onto the sand and I take her hand. 

“I love the ocean,” she says as we start to walk. “I grew up in New Hampshire, so the ocean was a good ninety miles away, and then it was freezing year-round.”

“I grew up in South Florida,” I say. “So the beach was right there but I was never really into it. Surfing and all that wasn’t my thing. I wrestled and played football.”

“What else were you into?”

“Mostly, survival,” I admit. “My grandmother raised me after my dad left. She did her best but she was old and didn’t have the energy for a kid like me. After she died I went into foster care for two years. Then I joined ROTC so I could afford college, and the rest is history.”

“I didn’t know you were in the system. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was luckier than a lot of kids. My foster parents weren’t the best, but they weren’t abusive or anything. There were four of us, all fosters, and our foster parents were mostly in it for the money they got. But to be fair, they fed and clothed us, so all I had to do was keep my head down and graduate from high school. I already had a plan for college.”

“And that’s where you met Grim?”

“Yup. We played football and did ROTC. Then we wound up in Force Recon together. I guess we’ve been pretty inseparable since the day we met.”

“That must be nice, to have that kind of friendship.”

“You don’t have a best friend?”

She shakes her head. “No. I was always too smart for my own good. Most of the kids in school thought I was weird. It was better in college, but I mostly hung out with guys because in my experience, women are catty.”

“You seem to be close to Allora and Courtney.”

She smiles. “Yeah, it’s been fun making friends. Not just with them but with everyone at Shadow. It feels like a family.”

“That’s what they wanted, to create a new, special family that has nothing to do with royalty. Daniil loves his actual family, but Courtney wasn’t sure about that life, and he loves her more than he loves being a royal.”

“That’s very romantic,” she says softly.

“Is it? I never thought about it in those terms.”

“Do you think you’re not romantic?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in a long time.”

“Allora said the same thing about Grim…was that done by design?”

“What, not having serious relationships?” 

She nods and I hesitate.

“If you’re asking if we discussed it, or made some kind of bachelor pact or something, no. I mean, while we were in college, we were young and wild. You can imagine how that was. Then while we were in the Marines, it was hard. Women were either completely enamored with the idea of marrying a military guy, or they wanted nothing to do with it. And frankly, we were deployed almost the whole time we were in. I don’t think either of us were in a head space to fall in love after the shit we saw over there.”

“That makes sense.”

“When we got out, I went into fighting professionally, with the UFC, and while I’m not proud of it, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I liked the attention. But the truth is, none of them cared about me. Elliott. The man. They just wanted to be on Rage the Cage’s arm, and that got old quick. Then we got into the security and bodyguard world and it seemed unfair to drag a woman into that life. Or maybe we just convinced ourselves of that because we were scared of the emotional stuff.”

“You? Scared?”

“Of allowing myself to be that vulnerable? To fall in love? A little. I don’t know exactly, and I can’t speak for him, but I see the way he looks at Allora and I know for a fact he’s never looked at a woman like that before. Maybe he was waiting specifically for her.”

“Okay, you can’t say you’re not a romantic,” she says, playfully bumping me with her hip. “Because that’s a very romantic observation.”

“Oh, I can observe it—I just don’t know that I could come up with shit like that on my own.” I reach out and slide my arm around her shoulders. “You’ll have to tell me if I don’t put in the right effort.”

“Is romance…part of our equation?”

“If you want it to be.” He rubs my shoulder as we walk. “Now it’s my turn to be honest.” He stops and turns to look at me, his expression thoughtful. “Princess, I’ve thought about sleeping with you almost since the first time I saw you. Every time you walked by I felt like a teenager again. You’d accidentally brush against me, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

My heart skips a beat. “Elliott.”

“Not being able to touch you was killing me. And then you started talking about some other guy getting you pregnant, and I was pissed.” I hold up a hand. “I know I had no right. I don’t understand it. But that’s the truth. So, romance? Yeah, I’d be down for that. Dating. Spending time together outside of work.”

She stares up at me, pretty blue eyes hard to read in the moonlight. But she’s standing close, almost touching, and when she tilts up her face, there’s no force on earth strong enough to stop me from pressing my lips to hers.

They’re as soft and sweet as I imagined, and I take my time, nibbling and exploring. Her lips part, just a little, but I’m not one of those guys who needs to stuff his tongue down a woman’s throat the minute we touch. There’s a time and a place for that, for sure, but this isn’t it. 

Right now, I just want to get to know her. Touch her. Drink in her sweetness.

I pull her close, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to gather her hair because the wind has picked up and it’s whipping her in the face. A soft moan escapes her as I fist her hair, and I glance down.

“You like when I pull your hair?”

“Mm, yes.” Her expression is equal parts playful and aroused.

Good to know.

“Be careful what you ask for, princess.”

She reaches up, winds her arms around my neck and this time she kisses me. Ironically, she doesn’t appear to be in a hurry to stuff her tongue down my throat either. She merely presses her lips to mine and then playfully nips my lower lip. Our mouths move together again, and now she’s fully in my arms, lush body pressed to mine.

Her breasts feel soft and warm against my chest, and I can only imagine what this will be like without the barrier of our clothes. For now, I’m stupidly happy just having her in my arms. Finally. It feels like I’ve been waiting years for this. 

Maybe I have. 

I let one hand drift down, cupping her round ass, and I squeeze. Fuck, this is going to be so much fun when we finally get naked. 

A faint buzzing in my pocket interrupts us and I grunt in annoyance. Luckily, it stops, and I go back to kissing her. 

Then her phone starts to ring, playing the theme song to “Hawaii Five-0.”

“That’s the emergency ring tone,” she whispers against my mouth.

“Shit.” I yank my phone out of my pocket while she answers hers.

“Hello? Courtney?” I can’t hear what Courtney is saying but she stiffens and then responds, “Oh, no.”

Then I look down at the row of texts from Daniil.

DANIIL: Where are you? We have a situation.

DANIIL: Court told me you and Luna are out on a date—I’m sorry to interrupt but I need you to call in. There’s been another incident with one of the Demons’ girls.

DANIIL: Court is calling Luna but I really need you to check in.

Shit.

I quickly call him back. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Another one of the club’s girls is dead.”

Chapter Thirteen

Luna

I can’t hear what Daniil is saying since Rage’s phone is between his ear and shoulder, but he’s already moving, one hand holding his shoes, the other holding on to me. I have long legs but his are longer and I have to hurry to keep up. To his credit, he’s still talking to Daniil but he stops when we get to the sidewalk and we both dust the sand off our feet before putting our shoes back on. 

“Come on.” He tugs my hand as we hurry back toward the restaurant.

“What happened?” I ask. “Courtney said another one of the girls died?”

“Another overdose. Absolutely not an accident. She tried to call Motor but he was in the shower and didn’t hear his phone. She left a message saying the guy she picked up tonight was being super rough, she needed help. An hour later, one of the other girls found her. They called paramedics but it was too late.”

“That’s awful, but if she’s already dead, why are we rushing?”

“Because Daniil wants me to do a little recon after the fact. The cops and coroner will be there for a while, and sometimes bad guys like to lurk, watch the aftermath of whatever they did. Spotting that kind of thing is something I’m good at.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll drive myself there, get out, and you can take my SUV back to your place. I’ll find my way home.”

I frown. “An Uber could cost you a hundred bucks!”

“Not me,” he chuckles. “That’s something the company will pay for.”

“Oh.”

He pauses as he hands the valet his ticket. “I’m sorry our night is being cut short, but I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry about me. I feel bad that another girl is dead.” I stare up at him. “This feels very, very personal.”

“It does. And I’ll bet Silver is pissed.”

“I guess Metal was right, that Layla wouldn’t have done that.”

“And they were right about Desi too.” He opens the passenger side door for me and helps me in before jogging around and getting behind the wheel. “I just hope I’m not too late to learn anything useful.”

“You really think by hanging around while the cops are there will help you find information?”

“It’s not guaranteed but more often than not, someone saw something. And when you’re talking sex workers and drug dealers, they’ll be far more willing to talk to a guy who hands them a couple of twenties than to the cops.”

“That makes sense.”

“You’re not trained to be in the field or I’d bring you with me.” He glances at me with a grin. “And with those sexy shoes on, you’d attract way too much attention anyway.”

I can’t help but smile. “Thank you. I think.”

“Believe me, it’s a compliment.”

“Speaking of being trained in the field…” I hesitate. “I had a thought, and it’s really not original, it’s just been on my mind. What would you think about teaching me, and any of the other girls who want to, how to fight?”

“Fight? Like self-defense?”

“Self-defense, kick boxing, things that would prepare us better to fight back in an emergency, and in my case, help me get into better shape. My hormones prevent me from having a flat stomach but they don’t prevent me from building muscle and getting strong.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds but he’s nodding. “I’d love to help. I’ll have to think about how to approach it. The truth is, self-defense is a bit different than what I do, and kick boxing is its own thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be kick boxing; those were just generic thoughts. I know Allora wants to learn to protect herself, and Courtney said she would be into it in a few more weeks, once she’s healed a bit.”

“I’ll talk to Grim and see about coming up with a plan.” He slows the SUV and pulls to a stop on a random corner. “Okay, we’re two blocks from the crime scene. You sure you’re okay taking my SUV and getting home on your own?”

“Of course. But won’t you need your car in the morning?”

He smiles. “You can come pick me up.”

I smile back. “Deal. And thank you for a lovely evening.”

“We’ll have a do-over as soon as we can.” He leans over and presses a quick kiss to my lips. 

“Please be careful,” I whisper as he gets out.

“Don’t worry. This is just another day at the office for me.”

I can only hope he’s right.

There’s a box in front of my door when I get back to my apartment and I lean over curiously. My name is on it but there’s no return address or anything. I wonder if my elderly neighbor, Mrs. C., left me something. She bakes every so often and brings me treats. Curiously, I open the box and stare in confusion.

This definitely didn’t come from Mrs. C. 

There are a dozen black roses in the bottom of the box. They’re beautiful in a twisted way, and something I would normally get a kick out of, but this feels…off. I study every part of the box, trying to find a clue as to where it came from but there’s nothing. 

I don’t know who sent them or why but a cold chill drifts down my spine. 

There have been a lot of little things over the last few months. The flat tire I got at the grocery store in April. It happens but the guy at the tire place said the nail he found would have been difficult to penetrate the tire while driving. It looked like someone drove it in there. But there was no way to prove that and I chalked it up to random fuckery.

Again, that shit happens. It’s not my first flat tire. 

But there’s also been the weird knocking. A bunch of voice mails with nothing but a weird, eerie silence. I honestly hoped it was all teenagers, or scam artists, being little assholes. 

With this strange box of flowers, I can’t ignore this anymore. This isn’t something a random teenager would do. And a telephone scam artist wouldn’t be able to get into my building to leave a package at my door. 

Daniil moved political mountains to get me out of witness protection without making it official. I’m still Luna Gallagher, whose real identity is hidden away in WITSEC, but now I’m hidden right out in the open. He told me not to worry about the details, that he took care of everything, but I do worry. I have to. It’s part of my life. 

A life that now includes a smart, handsome bodyguard who said he’d already guessed that I was in WITSEC. And he doesn’t care.

I care, though.

I have to think about all the people I care about if my identity is blown. I pissed off some really bad but powerful people back in the day. 

Daniil promised he would protect me, make sure they never found me.

I trust him but he can’t control everything. He’s the kind of man who’s used to getting his way, much like Rage, but some things are out of their control. 

Rage would probably grunt if I told him that, and the thought makes me smile as I change out of my clothes, put my hair in a bun, and wash my face. I start humming Trisha Yearwood’s song, “She’s in Love With the Boy” as I do my nightly facial routine and brush my teeth. 

I try to distract myself by thinking about Rage and the kiss we shared tonight. It was delicious. Thinking about his big hands touching me makes my skin tingle. I hoped he might come home with me, but I understand the job. I’ve spent quite a few nights working until two or three in the morning. It doesn’t happen often enough for me to anticipate it, like tonight, but it’s not rare either. 

For the time being, Daniil and Courtney are growing the business slowly because they knew they would need some down time once the new baby came.

Even so, there’s plenty of business, but they’re mostly small, local jobs in and around Southern California. Most of the crew is married, and the married couples all have children, which is something we all discussed in detail as we set up the company. Everyone is dedicated to Shadow Security, but also to their families.

Mark and Lana Garrison have two daughters; Kendall is nine and Kerry is seven. He’s a retired Marine and Lana has her own Public Relations business, so they have a busy household.

Ron and Bobbi Marshall have four children. Julian is nineteen and is Bobbi’s son from a previous relationship, but Ron adopted him. Ron’s sister died before he met Bobbi, and he got custody of her two-year-old daughter Samantha. He and Bobbi have had custody of her since she was two, and now she’s twelve. Together, they also have a six-year-old boy named Will and an eight-year-old girl named Penny. 

Eric and Delilah Lopez have a thirteen-year-old boy named Elias, from Eric’s first marriage, but no children together. Gossip around the office insinuates that they’re separated at the moment, even though she moved down here with him. I haven’t met her yet, but my understanding is that they’re in marriage counseling.

Chris “Chaos” Brenner is single. He’s quiet and introverted most of the time, unless he has an opportunity to make a nuisance of himself. 

At the moment, there are eight of us that make up Shadow Security: Daniil, Courtney, Grim, Rage, Mark, Eric, Ron, and me. 

Chaos hasn’t signed on as an owner, so he’s currently an independent contractor trying to decide what he wants to do. 

That leaves two slots open for ownership.

Daniil and Courtney were clear that they wanted a group of ten; he and Courtney would own twenty percent of the company together, and eight other people would own the remaining eighty percent. If, in the future, we opt to bring on more people, it will have to be voted on as a group and we’d decide exactly how to do it.

I love that idea, as well as the idea that I’m part of something bigger than a job and a paycheck. Bigger than a hacker with a record who couldn’t work in cyber security any other way. 

At some point, I doze off on the couch and wake to a light but firm rapping on my front door. My heart is immediately in my throat and I sit straight up, grabbing my phone. 

It’s happening again. 

I get up, grab my phone, and tiptoe to the door. Looking out the peephole, I don’t see anything. Because of the new baby, Daniil hasn’t had a chance to install the new camera and security system so I’m feeling vulnerable, despite how badly I want to throw open the door and catch whoever it is in the act. 

Instead, I open my phone, dial 911, and then wait, ready to press the Send button at the next sound. I press my back against my door, trying to still the beating of my heart.

But there’s nothing.

Just a long, heavy silence.

Chapter Fourteen

Rage

The scene in front of the motel where Ginger overdosed is chaotic. There are police cars, detectives, an ambulance, and a lot of curious onlookers. I recognize a couple of the club girls, huddled together, crying. And standing next to them is Metal. 

He shouldn’t be here. If this is about the club, he could be a target, and even if it isn’t, he’s too close to the situation. This is a clusterfuck regardless, and it has to be triggering as hell for him this soon after losing Layla.

I walk in that direction, and he sees me right away.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him.

His eyes snap to mine. “Where the hell else would I be? I told you guys that Layla didn’t kill herself. Now two more girls are dead—what does that tell you?” He’s pissed, and I don’t blame him, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.

“It tells me we have to be careful, and standing here in the middle of the crime scene isn’t productive.”

“Why are you here?” he counters gruffly.

“I’m here because your boss called mine, and they asked me to take a look.”

“At what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He looks annoyed but then one of the girls starts crying and he turns to her, putting an arm around her thin shoulders.

God, this is a mess. 

My original plan was to skulk around, see what I might see or hear, but with so many people milling about who might recognize me, I have to pivot. A few more guys from the club have just shown up, so I do my best to blend in with Metal and the girls, keeping an eye on everyone around us.

I don’t see anyone who appears more suspicious than anyone else. There are a few guys who look like low-level thugs—probably local pimps—but they seem more concerned than anything else. Even if it’s not one of their girls this time, the fact that there’s been three in such a short period of time means their girls could be next. 

The bigger frustration for me is that the police seem more bored than anything else. Another addict sex worker who took herself out. Probably nothing more than paperwork for them, and that pisses me off.

I don’t believe in coincidence.

Three of the same club’s girls in less than two weeks? No way. 

These ladies were targeted. 

The only question now is whether or not it’s personal to one particular member of the club or the club in general. 

And that’s too many options.

No wonder Silver called Daniil. He and his club are somewhat powerful in the general area, but this is Oceanside and they’re based in Temecula. Technically, this isn’t their turf, but the girls like the clientele around here better. It tends to be cleaner, safer, and with higher-paying johns. 

I think that’s another reason the club asked us to help. This isn’t some seedy ghetto and guys in leather cuts with obvious club affiliations will stand out. They don’t need that kind of exposure, but frankly, neither do we. I still don’t completely understand Daniil’s friendship with Silver but I can’t tell him whom to be friends with. Or whom to help. 

When Allora was originally kidnapped, Grim was the one to rescue her, and it’s because of her we met the Renegade Demons. She doesn’t have much to do with the club beyond a somewhat strained relationship with her dad, but she’s known Metal most of her life and she got friendly with Layla. By the same token, Daniil took the opportunity to create a loose working relationship with the Demons.

He said it was better to have them as allies than enemies, and he’s right about that. Unless you count Allora’s kidnapping, there’s been no overlap in our business dealings, but protecting the vulnerable is one of the core values of Shadow Security, so it makes sense that he wants to help.

I’m just not sure it’s the best use of our time or resources in this particular case because this seems like club business. I feel for the girls but it’s the club’s job to protect them—that’s why they get a ten percent cut of their earnings—not ours. Silver asked for help, though, so now I’m out here in the middle of the night searching for a killer. 

Instead of balls-deep in the sexiest woman I know.

“Rage? That you?” The voice is low and well-modulated, and I turn in surprise. 

It takes a second to recognize the man I knew back in my UFC days, and then it clicks into place. He’s older, completely gray now even though he’s only about fifty, and I hold out my hand. “Garth. Hey, man. What are you doing here?”

“I was walking back to my hotel from a bar around the corner when I heard the commotion. Thought I’d come see what’s what. What are you doing here?”

It’s easy to twist the truth. “The victim was a friend of a friend. Came to offer support.”

“Was she a hooker?” He tries to act nonchalant but I detect a tone of condescension that surprises me.

“A sex worker, yes. But not a junkie.”

He frowns. “I overheard the cops say this was an open and shut case, a simple overdose.”

“There’s nothing simple about addiction or OD’ing.” I’m not going to tell him what I know. He’s more than a decade older than I am, leaving the fighting world right when I was getting into it. We never fought, but he was a kind of mentor for a short time. Then he rode off into the retirement sunset and we lost touch.

“I was going to look you up,” he says after a moment. “I didn’t know if you were still based in L.A. or not.”

“Actually, no. I live in Temecula now.”

“New job?”

“Yeah, I do some bodyguard work for a firm out in Sage Canyon.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. I’m certainly not going to mention that I’m a part owner, but he doesn’t seem interested in my current career anyway.

“You still fight?” he asks.

I chuckle. “Other than kicking my buddies’ asses in the gym? No.”

“I’m running a charity exhibition fight. Any interest?”

“A fighting event?” I frown. 

“Lost my wife to cervical cancer. She started a foundation before she died and this year I’m doing a fundraiser. Gonna bring in some friends I used to fight with. You were on my list of people to call.”

“So, it’s just an exhibition?”

“It’s for charity, so there’s no money for the fighters, but it’s mostly older guys, retired, getting back into it for a good cause.”

I hesitate.

Part of me is intrigued—but I left that life for a reason. However, if it’s for charity, I may want to consider it.

But do I have time for something like this?

And why am I suddenly being pulled back into a phase of my life I left behind more than five years ago? Would Daniil even let me do it considering how busy we’re going to be as we get deeper into the summer?

“I have to figure out my work schedule,” I say finally. “I’m interested but I have some commitments I have to look at first.”

He nods. “Of course. I’m in the area scouting talent.”

“In Oceanside?”

“Nah, this was personal. Came to see an old friend. But I’m heading back to L.A. tomorrow.”

“Give me a couple of days, will you?”

“No problem at all.”

We shake hands, exchange a few more pleasantries, and then he disappears down the street.

Of all the times and places to run into my old mentor, this was the last place I expected to see him. 

There’s movement in my peripheral vision and I watch a guy in a dark hoodie, face obscured by both the shadows and the hood pulled over his head. He’s not acting suspiciously, but he’s also not standing with the others. With his head down the way it is, I almost wonder if he’s talking into an earpiece of some kind, reporting back to someone. 

I keep my stance casual as I edge in his direction, close enough to still be with Metal and the others, but on the far edge of our little group. My head is down as well, but I keep the guy in my line of sight.

His lips are moving, so he’s definitely talking to someone. 

He lifts his head and for a fraction of a second our eyes meet. Then he spins around and ducks down the alley. I move to follow, but if I run, it will alert the cops, and by the time I get there, he’s gone.

Dammit.

The good news is that I’ll recognize his face if I see him again.

The bad news is that he could be anyone. 

He looks to be about thirty, dark hair, maybe Latino but it was hard to tell in this light. That’s not a lot to go on. 

“What did you see?” Metal asks, coming to stand beside me.

There’s no point in lying. “Guy in a dark hoodie, talking to someone like he’s reporting on the scene.”

Metal’s eyes narrow. “Should we pursue?”

“He’s gone. And we don’t need the cops looking at us suspiciously.”

He grunts. “This whole thing just pisses me off. If I find out who’s behind this, I’ll gut them.”

That’s what I’m afraid of—that Metal will look for revenge and get himself in trouble in the process.

By the look on his face, I don’t think he’s open to listening to reason. All I can do now is be supportive. Maybe distract him.

“I’ve got your back, man. Just make sure you don’t go after them alone.”

He looks down the alley, a faraway expression on his face.

“No promises.” With that, he turns and walks back to the others.

Chapter Fifteen

Luna

I wake up in a better mood. Now that I’m at the office, buried in work, I put last night’s fuckery out of my mind completely. I’m going to remind Daniil about updating my locks and the new doorbell camera, and tell him what happened, but while I was freaking out last night, I had a thought.

Roger.

The last time we talked, I told him we were over and that I’ve started dating someone else. He was less than enthused about that. So, the more I’ve thought about it, the more I wonder if he’s behind the weird delivery. Everything else can be explained away, and I’m going to call Roger about the roses, but for now, my job is stressful enough without adding unnecessary drama.

Meanwhile, I’m pulling up CCTV footage of the streets where Ginger worked last night. It’s a little heartbreaking when I finally find her, standing on the street corner adjacent to the motel she wound up at. It’s Oceanside but farther inland, about ten minutes from the beach where Rage and I were and where all the high-priced real estate and shops are. 

I watch as she stands there for a while. Then a guy walks up to her in a dark hoodie. His face is hidden, but they talk for a few minutes and then head across the street. From there, I lose them and have to jump around until I find a good view of the motel. Unfortunately, I don’t get much more because they go inside together, his hand at the small of her back, and disappear. 

As far as I know, that’s the last picture of her alive.

This is depressing as fuck, but I copy the appropriate clips and send them to Daniil. I don’t know if a picture of a guy whose face is covered is helpful, but now I’ll start searching for him. When I saw Rage earlier, he said he saw a guy in a hoodie who disappeared when they made eye contact. If it’s the same guy, then I’m pretty sure we have her killer.

Not that we know his name or where to find him but we might be prepared if he tries again. Daniil is going to send in some of the guys to hang around the area every night for a few weeks, see if we can find patterns or men that look suspicious. They’ll also provide another layer of protection for the girls. 

Silver and a few of his men are coming up here for lunch today to discuss a plan of action to protect the girls, and I’m not sure whether or not I’ll be there. Sometimes they invite me in, other times they don’t. Which is fine with me. The guys in the club make me uncomfortable, other than Metal. He’s such a nice guy, it’s heartbreaking to see what he’s going through. 

“Tell us everything!” Allora and Courtney come into my office and make me jump.

“Jesus H. Christ!” I mutter, hand on my heart. “You two have to stop sneaking up on me.”

“Here, have baby cuddles. That’ll make you feel better.” Courtney hands me the baby, and I’m momentarily mesmerized. She’s a beautiful little thing, with white-blond hair that sticks up, bright green eyes, and rosy, red cheeks. 

I nestle her into my chest and sigh happily.

Babies are magical. 

It reminds me of how badly I want one.

And that Rage volunteered to help me make it happen.

“Now tell us everything!”

“Well, sadly, our evening was interrupted by Ginger’s death,” I say quietly. “So there’s nothing much to tell. Except…he’s a great kisser.”

“You kissed!” Allora claps her hands lightly so as not to startle Celeste, who seems to be drifting off. 

“We did. And he’s promised me a make-up date but who knows when that will be.” I pretend to give Courtney the side eye. “Your husband keeps him busy!”

“I’ll do my best to intervene when I can,” she says solemnly.

“Hey, make sure he doesn’t start calling my man instead!” Allora warns sternly. “I may not be ready for a baby, but I have other needs that require his attention.”

“What needs are those?” The quiet male voice behind us makes all three of us jump but Allora just laughs as she turns to Grim.

“You’re very well aware of my needs,” she says sweetly. “But why are you eavesdropping?”

“I was coming to invite you all to lunch. I can’t help that all you ladies ever talk about is sex.”

Courtney sticks her tongue out at her brother. “We talk about more than sex. It’s just that sex is a much more fun conversation than what happened to those girls recently.”

His expression sobers. “That’s for sure. Anyway, lunch is served. Allora, your dad is here.”

Allora nods. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Grim kisses her lightly and then leaves the room. We’re all quiet for a beat.

“How come you only want details about my sex life?” I demand. “Like, I want to hear all about what goes on with that beast of a man!”

Allora laughs. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. He’s virile and sexy and extremely attuned to my needs. I’ve never had such a voracious or attentive lover.”

“Same.” Courtney grins. “Dan’s a little on the kinky side but nothing over the top. He’s really into watching other people do it and having them watch us but we decided that wasn’t appropriate in our current situation, so when I’m ready to get back on the horse, so to speak, we’ll probably go to Club Inferno when we want to get our freak on.”

“Isn’t that in Vegas?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah. Like I said, he’s not over-the-top. He’s perfectly happy fucking me up against a wall or bent over a counter.”

“That’s going to get complicated with two little ones running around,” I point out.

She shrugs with a wicked smile. “Why do you think we’re interviewing nannies?”

“If I didn’t love my job so much, I would volunteer,” I say, holding Celeste a little tighter. 

“We’re so not ready for kids,” Allora says, shaking her head. “We need time for us to be…us for a while. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely.” Courtney nods. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Honestly, therapy has been good. For both of us. Maybe in a few years. For now, I’m happy falling in love and spending time together.”

“We should get to lunch,” I say, reluctantly handing Courtney back the baby. 

“I’m heading home,” Courtney says, “but I’ll man the phones while you guys are busy.”

“See you later!” Allora calls out.

I pick up my laptop and we’ve just stepped into the hall when Rage comes around the corner.

“Hey.” He smiles at us. “Everyone ready for lunch?”

We fall into step together, and I feel his hand at the small of my back. It’s both thrilling and a little disconcerting because this type of public affection is essentially an announcement that we’re together. We talked about it briefly, but our date was so abruptly cut off it’s hard to know exactly where we stand. It’s not like anything has changed, but we didn’t really talk about anything personal when I picked him up this morning and I don’t know when we’ll next have the opportunity. 

It’s going to be a busy day.

“I spoke to Dan this morning,” he murmurs against my ear. “Let him know what’s going on between us so there isn’t any gossip or bullshit like that.”

I glance up. “It’s like you read my mind.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll always have your back.”

I smile in spite of myself. “I think I know that about you already.”

“I didn’t mention the baby thing,” he adds. “We don’t need people constantly asking if you’re pregnant, you know? Especially since it might take a while.”

God, everything is moving so damn fast, but how can it not when he’s absolutely perfect? I’m already falling. Hard and fast. 

“You’re sweet,” I whisper as we walk into the conference room. The place smells amazing, and containers of Chinese food line one of the credenzas, along with paper plates and plastic cutlery. I put down my laptop and then we fill our plates, settling in next to each other. 

“So,” Daniil says once we’re all seated and everyone is eating. “Luna found footage of Ginger with the man we suspect killed her.” He presses a few buttons and the video clips I sent him come up on a big screen against the wall. 

“That’s the man I saw,” Rage says. “But there was no way to chase him without drawing attention to myself, and if there are multiple players involved in whatever this is, we don’t want them to know we’re on to them. Not yet.”

“Agreed.” Daniil nods. “But this begs the question—does he look at all familiar to anyone?”

“He could be anyone,” Silver admits in annoyance. 

“But now we have a starting point,” Metal says, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll be watching for this motherfucker.”

“You can’t be out there every night,” Silver says to him.

“Says who?” The two men eye each other and Daniil intervenes smoothly.

“You don’t want to become a target yourself,” he tells him. “We need to stay in the shadows.”

“You and your boys can stay in the shadows,” Metal says firmly. “I’m not letting this happen to anyone else if I can help it. Whoever it is will know that I’m watching.”

“I’ll have his back,” Motor says before Silver can respond. “We’re coming up with a schedule so the girls have protection every night.”

“Our guys can handle protection,” Silver says to Daniil. “What I need help with is finding whoever it is. I’ve got feelers out but Oceanside isn’t our territory and my boys aren’t trained like yours are. The girls prefer Oceanside but I’m going to try to talk them into moving to Temecula. I’m already getting push-back, though. They have regulars in Oceanside.”

They talk a little more about logistics but I’m more focused on Rage’s hand.

Because it’s resting lightly on my thigh, his thumb moving in little circles.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else. 

He told me he likes a plus-size woman and that’s super convenient because I really like extra-large men. Tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and thick thighs. There’s nothing better than being thrown against the wall and fucked⁠—

“Luna?” Daniil is staring at me.

I start. “Sorry, my mind wandered…what did you say?”

“I need you to run a background check on all the girls. Silver is going to text you copies of their drivers licenses. I want you to see if you can find anything that ties them together beyond the obvious. Where they’re from originally, schooling, arrest records, whatever it is.”

I nod. “On it.”

“Great.” Talk turns to something else and I lightly kick Rage’s foot under the table.

He surreptitiously kicks me back.

I slide one foot out of my sandals and playfully run it along his shin. He has khaki’s on, so his leg isn’t bare, but I note the way his grip on my thigh tightens. Just thinking about those hands squeezing other parts of me makes my tummy—and regions farther south—clench with excitement.

“Five minutes,” he murmurs in my ear. “In the supply closet.”

I chuckle, assuming he’s kidding, but three minutes later, he casually gets up, dumps out his trash and leaves the room. The meeting is over except for those of us lingering to finish eating and shoot the shit. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I get up and follow in the direction he went. 

I don’t know exactly what he has in mind, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

Chapter Sixteen

Rage

There’s something about a woman with a sense of adventure. I’m not talking about sky diving or swimming with sharks—that’s next-level and I have my male buddies for that. It’s not what I need from a woman, though I certainly wouldn’t be against it. But I’m talking about everyday types of adventures, because while the former kind are exciting, it’s the latter that gives any relationship a boost.

Personally, I’m all about having a good time when I’m not on assignment. From something as simple as playing footsies at work during a meeting to something a little more intense—like having sex in a storage closet where anyone could potentially walk in on us. I don’t know how Luna feels about that kind of thing but I’m about to find out.

A minute later I see the doorknob turn and I lean against the row of floor-to-ceiling shelves that line one wall. 

“What are we doing in here?” she asks with an innocent smile.

“Close the door and you’ll find out.”

She does as I ask, and I crook my finger at her. There’s a beat of hesitation before she approaches me, and I pull her against my chest.

“So, here’s how things are going to work,” I say in a low, gruff voice. “From a sex perspective only, you do what I say, when I say it, no matter where we are.”

Her eyes widen. “But⁠—”

I put a finger over her lips. “No buts. Those are the rules. Do you want to play or not?”

“I’m not into letting people watch,” she says quietly. “Especially here at work. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Noted. Any other hardcore limits?”

“I mean, probably quite a few but⁠—”

“But we don’t have to talk about those now because we won’t ever do anything over-the-top here at the office.”

She frowns. I watch her brows knit together just enough to indicate that she’s on the fence. But what I have in mind is going to be enjoyable for both of us. So, instead of talking, I dip my head and capture her lips. She’s as sweet and sexy as I remember, her mouth opening for mine without hesitation. 

Since it’s not our first kiss, and we don’t have a ton of time, I take the lead and slide my tongue between her lips. Her breath is warm against my skin, and she melts into me, her tongue eagerly toying with mine.

I knew long before I touched her that kissing her would be memorable but this is so fucking perfect. The way she sounds as a tiny whimper escapes her. The way she feels practically draped all over me. Even the way she tastes with our mouths fused together. 

Absolute fucking perfection. 

“Take off your panties,” I say abruptly as I break the kiss.

“Wh—”

“If I have to repeat myself, you won’t like the consequences.” I hold out my hands. “Panties.”

Her cheeks turn red but she wiggles them down her thighs and holds onto my arm as she steps out of them. Then, with slow precision and a smirk on her pretty face as she seemingly gets into the game, she gently places them in my outstretched hand.

“Now what?”

“Now turn around, put your hands on the table, and spread your legs.”

She hesitates again but then seems to think twice about it, whirling and getting into position.

Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about what I’m going to do to her. 

I kneel behind her, running my hands along her smooth calves. I’d love to take out my cock and drive into her, but we honestly don’t have a lot of time and there’s no way in hell she’ll be able to stay quiet if I do.

She may not be able to stay quiet when I do this either, but I have all the control this way. Which is exactly the way I like it.

“You’ll need to keep quiet if you don’t want everyone to know what we’re doing,” I murmur, nuzzling her ass through the tight skirt plastered against it. 

“Rage…” Her voice is a breathy whisper.

“Uh huh. Right here.” I run my hands up the sides of her legs, lifting her skirt as I do. With her panties in my pocket, I know exactly what I’m about to see and her ass is as perfect as I imagined. Smooth. Round. Soft, silky skin. I run my cheek along one of hers and feel her shudder.

Perfect.

Nothing better than a woman struggling to stay in control. 

I drag a line of kisses down one side and then up the other, using my hands to stroke and tease, though I stay far away from the area between her legs. 

“Elliott.” Her voice is raspy, her breath catching a little at the end.

I’ve been Rage for so long, almost no one ever calls me Elliott. Hearing it from her, when I’m about to go down on her, sends a shot of arousal straight to my cock. And I was already hard so that says something about how attracted I am to her. 

“What’s the matter?” I whisper. “Does something feel good?”

“Yes.”

I chuckle. “Bend over so your chest is on the table.”

She dips down and I slide her skirt the rest of the way up, so it’s bunched around her hips.

Using my fingers, I gently spread her open and watch her quiver in anticipation. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing better than going down on a beautiful woman. Especially this one. I’ve imagined this moment so many times—and reality is better than anything I dreamed up.

With the tip of my tongue, I trace a line along her slit. I’m gratified to hear a long, low moan leave her. 

“So pretty and pink,” I murmur. She tastes like musky woman and dessert, equal parts tangy and sweet. Her legs tremble with each pass of my tongue, and satisfaction fills me. 

I swirl my tongue a little faster, using my thumb to put pressure on her clit. I roll it back and forth, simultaneously gliding my tongue in and out of her warm, wet center. Her body starts to writhe, up and down, back and forth, pressing against my face. She’s so wet it’s starting to pool at her entrance and I take advantage, spreading it up toward her asshole and using it to lubricate the area before pushing the tip of one finger into the tight, puckered hole. 

She gasps and moans at the same time, the sound filling the room.

“Just a little,” I whisper. “Nothing crazy.”

Then I go back to licking her into oblivion. Her hips are moving frantically now, anxious for more, but I don’t give it to her. Not yet. 

“Oh fuck, Elliott…please!” she hisses.

“Soon, princess.” I stab my tongue into her pussy and press my finger just a little deeper into her ass. I watch her knees begin to shake and tremble, and she scrambles to hold on to something on the table. Her hands slide back and forth, as she pants and groans.

Pushing her forward, I drop my mouth further and latch on to her clit, biting down just enough to make her cry out. I suck it between my lips, hard and fast, and then let go. I do it several times until she’s whimpering, her body shaking with the need for release.

“P-please!” she whispers, her voice almost a moan. 

“Take the rest of my finger and I’ll let you come,” I encourage.

She moans again in response but then shifts, arching her ass up against my finger.

“That’s a good girl,” I say softly, pushing my finger the rest of the way in. Then I suckle her clit with firm strokes, tugging until I feel her tighten against me. I pick up speed, adding a touch more pressure, and her cry is muffled against the arm she brought up to cover her mouth.

Feeling her gush against my face is fucking amazing and I gently finger fuck her ass as I continue my assault on her clit. She bucks and writhes, riding out her orgasm and then finally collapses against the table.

“I’m impressed,” I say with a grin. “You were pretty quiet, all things considered.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers, sighing with what sounds like contentment. “That was hard! Jesus, where’d you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”

“I dunno.” I pull my hands free and gently tug her skirt back down. 

She slowly straightens up and turns to me.

Fuck, but she’s pretty when her eyes are all glassy and her cheeks are flushed. 

“That was fun,” I say, pressing a kiss on her lips.

“It was.” She’s still a little shaky on her feet so I pull her to my chest. 

“But why at work?” she asks.

“It felt like the right time.”

“When do I get to repay the favor?”

“There’s no repayment required—this isn’t transactional. But any time you feel the need to suck my dick, I’m ready, willing, and able.”

“When is our next night off?”

“I don’t know, but let’s compare calendars and make it happen.”

She nestles deeper into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. She feels perfect pressed against me, her body warm and soft and in no hurry to move. 

It’s been a long time since I felt so content with a woman. 

As of right now, she’s officially mine and I intend to make sure she knows it.

Chapter Seventeen

Luna

Friday night, while the guys are in the gym doing their fight night thing, Allora, Courtney, Bobbi, and I go into Temecula for dinner. Since Courtney, Allora, and I are already so close, we’ve felt a bit guilty that we haven’t included the other wives in our girls’ nights, so we invited them this time. Delilah is out of town and Lana had a client emergency, but Bobbi was available, so it’s just the four of us.

“I love my babies,” Courtney says as we order drinks. “But I really need some down time. The whole pumping and feeding and changing diapers thing is exhausting.”

“At least you have a man who helps,” Bobbi says. She’s a petite blonde with a shy smile and big blue eyes. “My first husband, before Ron, never did anything at all.”

Courtney grimaces. “I’m married to a literal prince, full-on royalty, and he does everything for the kids. His cousin, the king, also changed diapers and did all the things when Prince Levi was born.”

“I can’t imagine choosing a man who isn’t going to help you,” Allora says thoughtfully. “I’ve dated a lot of jerks, but I knew they weren’t going to be good partners. I guess that’s why it didn’t work out with any of those guys.”

“I think there’s something to be said for finding the right guy at the right time,” Bobbi says thoughtfully. “Ron and I knew each other in high school but that wasn’t the right time. When I ran into him in San Diego, after my divorce, everything fell into place.”

“Same with Daniil and me,” Courtney says. “He was always into me but I was scared. I mean, why would an honest-to-goodness prince want a regular girl like me?”

“That’s how I feel right now,” I admit quietly, toying with my drink. “Like, what does Rage see in me? He could have anyone.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Allora says immediately.

“It’s not that there’s something wrong, it’s just…” I fiddle with the glass some more. “Look, I’m not just a tall woman, I’m overweight. By a lot. Add in my genius IQ and it can be too much. Most men are intimidated by strong, tall women. And I’d venture to say a majority of them are turned off by fat ones.”

“That’s their loss,” Courtney says softly.

“Maybe,” I agree, “but that doesn’t make it hurt less when you get rejected.”

“But Rage didn’t reject you,” Allora says. “And you guys are legit dating, right? I think it’s pretty clear that he’s into you.”

“I’m slowly starting to believe that.”

“How long have you been dating?” Bobbi asks curiously.

“Like five minutes,” I say with a laugh.

“But you haven’t slept together yet?” Courtney asks.

“No, but there was an epic orgasm in the storeroom the other day.”

Bobbi’s eyes go wide and Allora snickers while Courtney just grimaces. 

“Please don’t give anyone ideas,” she says. “People will be fucking all over headquarters.”

We all dissolve into giggles. 

“I could think of worse things,” Bobbi says solemnly.

“We should start a pool for how long it’ll take Luna to get pregnant,” Allora teases.

“Well, I have PMOS so it might take a really long time,” I admit. 

“It’s going to take even longer if you don’t actually start having sex,” Courtney points out.

“We’ve been taking our time, getting to know each other first, but believe me, it’s coming. We’re both off Sunday so he’s coming over for dinner and…dessert.” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully.

“That’s smart,” Allora agrees. “Both taking your time and spending time together. But he’s a great guy.”

“I’ve known him twenty years,” Courtney says, “and he’s an amazing human being. Honestly, I thought sure he would settle down before Landon. My brother was such a confirmed bachelor.”

“I think it was luck and forced proximity,” Allora says thoughtfully. “I don’t know that this thing between us would have happened without it.”

“Rage told me he’s had a crush on me for a long time,” I tell them. “And obviously, how could any single, red-blooded woman not have a crush on him?”

Bobbi laughs. “He’s definitely nice to look at. Even a boring old married woman like me can’t help but notice.”

“Have you talked about what happens if the relationship doesn’t work out but you get pregnant?” Courtney asks.

“We co-parent amicably. I know, it’s an oversimplification but that’s why we’ve been taking our time. Well, until he attacked me in the storeroom the other day. And he was all bossy about it, too.” I grin. “He was all, take off your panties and give them to me right now!” I lower my voice and do what I hope is a fair representation of Rage.

Allora fans herself. “I love a hot, alpha man.”

“Same.” Courtney grins.

“Ron and I might be a little too vanilla,” Bobbi whispers, her cheeks turning pink. 

“There’s nothing wrong with vanilla,” I say. “That’s why it’s the most popular flavor. You can create anything with a vanilla base, you know?”

That brings on another round of giggles, and it’s just the beginning. Bobbi fits in well with us, and we talk about anything and everything. Since Courtney is pumping breast milk, she doesn’t drink alcohol and is our designated driver, but the rest of us get a bit tipsy.

“I can’t remember the last time I had this much to drink.” Bobbi giggles. “But it feels good to let loose a little. I stay so busy with the kids, I can’t remember my last girls’ night out.”

“The plan is to do this once a month,” Courtney says. “We need time to ourselves.”

“I was wondering if you guys would be into doing a high tea next month?” Allora suggests. “There’s a new teahouse in Oceanside and they’re advertising it.”

“I’d love that!” I say enthusiastically.

“I’m in.” Bobbi nods.

“Me too,” Courtney adds.

“I’ll talk to Delilah and Lana,” Bobbi says. “Maybe they can join us.”

“That would be fun,” Allora says. “Besides, any excuse to dress up is a bonus!”

“I hope more of my clothes fit by then,” Courtney says. “I’ve taken off some of the pregnancy weight, but it feels like it’s coming off more slowly than last time.”

“Speaking of taking off weight,” I say thoughtfully. “What would you guys think about starting self-defense classes? I mentioned it to Rage and he said he’d be down to train us.”

“Landon and I have talked about that too,” Allora says, “but we’ve been busy and just haven’t pulled the trigger.”

“Then it’s time,” I say firmly. 

“How about I talk to Dan about it?” Courtney suggests. “And we can find a time that works for everyone.”

“Perfect.”

Our checks arrive and we all put credit cards down, finishing our drinks and discussing how much fun it will be to start working out with the guys.

“It’ll be nice to get in shape,” Bobbi says. “It gets harder to stay fit as we age.”

“You can say that again,” Courtney says. “It’s only been two years since I had Micah and I can feel a difference in how my body is bouncing back.”

“You guys are scaring me,” I say, grimacing. “I already struggle with my weight. Pregnancy is going to be brutal.”

“Pregnancy is going to be amazing,” Allora corrects me warmly, reaching for my hand and squeezing it. “You and Rage are going to make really pretty babies.”

“Isn’t that what you said about me and Roger?” I ask, laughing.

“Yes, but I was just being polite with Roger. With Rage… I’m being one thousand percent honest!”

We’re all chuckling as the waiter approaches and bends over, so he’s speaking quietly in my ear. 

“Ma’am, your card was declined.”

“What?” I glance up in confusion. I carry no credit card debt, paying the balance each month when the bill comes. 

“I’m so sorry. I ran it twice. Would you like to try another card?”

“Uh, yes, please.” I hand him my debit card.

“Everything okay?” Courtney asks.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to call Amex when I get home. I don’t carry a balance; I always pay it every month.”

“And it was declined?”

“Yeah.” I frown, trying to imagine what might be going on.

“Well, I can certainly pay for tonight, and you can pay me back whenever.”

“Thanks.” I tap my foot impatiently, getting nervous when the waiter returns with a weird look on his face.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. This card was declined as well.”

“What?” I gape at him in confusion.

“Put it on mine,” Courtney says quickly, giving him her card again. “We’ll sort it out at home.”

“I don’t understand,” I protest, shaking my head. “I have plenty of money. We just got paid. I live well within my means.” Before anyone can say anything, I open my banking app and look at the balance.

Zero.

My account has zero fucking dollars.

Daniil pays us once a month, on the fifteenth, and after my health insurance contribution, the amount I put in my 401K, what he takes out that goes toward ownership of the business since I couldn’t give him a lump sum, and then the appropriate taxes and such, my paycheck is around ten thousand dollars. Rent and utilities come out to under three thousand, and my car note is only five hundred. Car insurance is minimal, and I don’t spend a lot for groceries because they feed us at the office at least three or four times a week, whether it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner. 

I always have money left over after I pay my bills, so this makes no sense at all.

I scroll the transactions and see two that make me blink. Both under ten thousand, so no red flags came up for the bank, but someone took my money in two installments. Transferred to a place I can’t trace on my phone.

But whoever it is, they just fucked with the wrong woman. 

Because I will find and get my money back.

I wasn’t considered the best hacker in the world for nothing.

“Luna?” Courtney is watching me carefully.

“Someone took everything,” I say carefully.

“You were hacked?” Allora asks, wide-eyed.

“I was something,” I say. “But I’ll find out the details when I get home. They don’t know who they’re messing with.”

“I’ll let Daniil know,” Courtney says quickly. “He might be able to help.”

“Thank you for lending me the money,” I say, my tone laced with frustration.

“Not a problem.” Courtney stands up. “Let’s get out of here. I know you’re dying to get home to your laptop to figure out what’s going on.”

“You got that right,” I mumble. 

I’m pissed off but more than that, I’m worried.

I’ve been in witness protection for five years. So far, it’s been smooth sailing, but in the world of hackers, anything is possible. And if someone found me online—someone from my past—this could be devastating. I might even potentially have to leave Shadow Security because I wouldn’t want anyone in my new family to be impacted by the people who forced me into hiding in the first place. 

This might be more terrifying than when I thought I might go to prison.

But this time I’m not alone. 

I have a support system and I won’t hesitate to use it.

Chapter Eighteen

Rage

Luna’s been on a rampage since her bank and credit cards were hacked. For me, the worst part is feeling helpless. There’s literally nothing I can do for her, and as I watch her fingers flying over the keyboard in her office, I wonder how long she can keep this up. She’s been working since last night and hasn’t stopped to eat or sleep or do much of anything else.

“Got you, you stupid motherfucker,” I hear her hiss. 

I’ve been leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for the right moment to interrupt, and I take a step forward.

“What did you find?” I ask quietly.

She doesn’t even turn around. 

“I found out where and when, now I just have to figure out who.”

“What does it say about the owner of the account?” I ask, peering over her shoulder. 

“It looks like some sort of foreign corporate entity, but it’s under quite a few layers of encryption. It’s probably going to take me a few hours to get through them.”

“How long has it been since you slept?” 

“Sleep is overrated,” she replies. 

“It isn’t,” I say firmly. “Your body needs rest so you can do your best work.”

“I already am,” she mumbles, fingers still flying over the keyboard. 

“Luna.” I move behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, gently beginning to massage them. She stiffens for a second but then relaxes into my touch. 

“I have to figure this out,” she murmurs, still focused on the screens in front of her, but now her voice is softer. 

“You’re done for now.” I press my thumbs into her tight muscles and her head slowly drops so that her chin hits her chest.

“That feels good,” she whispers.

“Uh huh.” I continue kneading her shoulders, neck, and even her scalp. 

“Rage… I have to⁠—”

“All you have to do is relax.” I increase the pressure and a soft moan escapes her. I like being able to help her unwind, especially after the day she’s had. 

She came back to headquarters last night after the girls’ dinner and has been in her office ever since. I got here around nine this morning and thought sure she would peter out by noon. But nope, she’s still going and it’s almost eight o’clock in the evening now. 

“Come on,” I coax softly. “Let me take you home.”

“I have my car,” she protests.

“That’s okay. I’ll bring you back to get it tomorrow. You shouldn’t be driving when you’re this tired.”

To my surprise, she nods and slowly starts gathering her things. She turns off her computers and then stands up.

“I guess I am pretty tired,” she admits.

“Let’s go.” I take her hand and we walk out to the parking lot. She gets into my SUV and I note how she practically melts into the seats the moment she puts on her seatbelt.

We don’t talk as I drive toward her apartment, and the next time I look over, she’s fast asleep.

Good.

She needs her rest. 

The idea that a cyber security expert was hacked doesn’t sit well with me, and I’m worried. I spoke to Daniil about it earlier and he agrees that we need to stay on top of the situation, but I prefer a proactive approach in protecting her. Even if it means protecting her from herself. As much as I love how independent she is, she needs to let the people who care about her have her back. 

I pull into a parking spot in front of her building and walk around to the passenger side to gently wake her up.

“Hey, we’re home.”

She blinks sleepily and sits up. “Wow. I guess I was tired.”

“You were. Can you walk?”

“Yeah.” She gets out of my SUV and I slide an arm around her waist as we head for the elevators.

She kicks off her shoes the moment we get into her apartment, stifling a yawn.

“You should get some sleep,” I say gently. 

She turns, eyes meeting mine in the low light. “Will you stay?” Her voice is low and soft, but her meaning is clear.

Still, I need to be sure. 

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll stay.” I kick off my boots and follow her into the bedroom. She moves toward the bathroom and I watch as she picks up something that appears to be pajamas. “You’re not going to need those,” I call after her.

She glances back over her shoulder. 

“I like a woman who sleeps in my arms to be naked.”

She sets the pajamas on a nearby chair and then walks into the bathroom without a word. 

I strip down as well and slide between the covers. Her bed is a lot smaller than mine but I can make it work. I put my hands behind my head, waiting for her to come out and the second she steps into the room my heart begins to kick. 

She’s fucking incredible.

Lush curves and what seems like miles of pale, creamy skin. She also has large round breasts with pretty pink nipples—that I’m going to spend a long time sucking on when I get the chance.

But not tonight.

First, she has to sleep. In the morning, we start working on that baby she so desperately wants.

To my surprise, I doze off almost the moment Luna crawls into bed with me. Normally, I’m a light sleeper, but with Luna curled into my arms, I sleep nearly ten hours. That’s incredibly rare for me and I have no doubt it’s because of the beautiful woman beside me. Well, technically, she’s draped all over me. One leg is thrown over mine, the side of her face is in my shoulder, and her hair is a tousled sexy mess on my pillow.

And I fucking love it.

I use the fingers of my free hand to gently trail them across her bare shoulder, and then down over her breast. With a feather light touch, I move my thumb back and forth across her nipple and even in her sleep, it pebbles almost instantly. I continue to rub my thumb over it, watching as she slowly comes awake. 

Sliding down a little, I dip my head and suck her nipple into my mouth. I know she’s awake because her fingers move into my hair, stroking it as I run my tongue around her areola. She’s warm and soft against me, and I feel her sigh of pleasure.

“Harder?” I ask softly.

“Mmm,” is her only response. 

I reach out to move her fully on top of me. “Straddle me,” I say. “Then lean forward and let me feast on those gorgeous tits of yours.”

She moves lazily, like a cat stretching, eyes at half-mast as she looks down at me. Her hair is a mussed halo around her head and her face is devoid of makeup, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman. Not in bed with me anyway. 

Damn, I’m a lucky man. 

She uses her hands to move her breasts together, teasing me, and I reach up to cup them. Full and heavy, they fit nicely in my hands, and I rub my thumbs back and forth some more, watching her face as I do it. She likes it, no doubt about that, but I need to gauge how far I can go because I can be a little rough. My gut tells me she’ll be on board for almost anything, but we’re too new to assume that. 

“If anything is ever too much, you tell me,” I say, pausing what I’m doing to make sure she’s paying attention. This is our first time having intercourse, so I want to be positive she’s on board. “I’m a big guy—I could be hurting you unintentionally.”

“Of course.” She nods. “I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

Why does such a simple statement make me feel so good? 

Because I’m crazy about her. 

And what we’re about to do is going to change everything.

I lift a hand and cup one side of her face. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

She dips her head almost shyly. “N-no.”

“You’re stunning. Especially when you’re naked, your body sprawled across mine. If it were up to me, you’d never wear clothes.”

She chuckles. “That would be super inconvenient at work.”

“Not for me.”

“You might be a little biased.”

“You got a problem with that?” I ask, reaching for her breasts again. 

“Not at all.” She wiggles on my groin. “You seem excited.”

“Excited doesn’t begin to describe how I feel being in bed with you.”

“Then maybe you should show me.”

Our eyes meet and for the tiniest moment, neither of us moves. Then I reach for her again, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and dragging her face down to mine. Our lips move together easily, and she opens her mouth when I slide my tongue against hers. There’s a hunger between us that I can only attribute to how long we’ve waited to actually do this. How long I imagined this very moment. I’d jerk off night after night, my body aching for hers, and now that I have it, I want to savor every second.

With her body pressed against mine, I can feel every shudder, every moan, even the goosebumps that break out on her skin. I run a hand down her back, slowly, content to touch every inch of her. It was different when I went down on her, just a little tease of what was to come, but I’m done teasing now.

This is the moment that will show her she’s mine.

Chapter Nineteen

Luna

My body came awake long before the rest of me, and now I’m straddling this gorgeous hunk of man who wants to make more than love with me. The odds are against me, but there is still a chance that we’ll conceive today. Right now. I don’t even know if I’m ovulating.

It’s a little overwhelming but for some reason, I’m not afraid.

Not with Elliott.

He’s strong and kind and capable.

I know he’ll make a good father, even if things don’t work out between us personally. 

Except I want it to work out. 

More than anything I’ve ever wanted with anyone. 

Maybe that’s the issue, the reason I’ve been content to let things move at a snail’s pace. 

But that stops now.

With our lips locked together, and his big hands all over me, my body seems to have a mind of its own. I feel his erection—and it’s massive—between my legs but he still doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. Like he’s waiting for me to take the lead for our first time. 

His caution and obvious concern for my comfort and safety takes everything I’m already beginning to feel to another level. This isn’t about a baby anymore. There’s an intimacy between us that goes beyond being naked together, about to make love. 

“What are you thinking about with so much emotion in your eyes?” he asks gruffly, one hand still toying with my nipple.

“You. Us. This.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“God, no.” I rest my hands on his broad chest. “I’m just trying to savor every second of it because it feels…different.”

“Than what?”

“Every other man I’ve ever been with.”

“Because you’ve never been with me.” His eyes are blue lasers focused intently on mine.

All I can do is lean down and press my lips to his.

“Make love to me, Elliott.”

“Mmm.” He makes a sound of acquiescence, and then I feel him. Right there. Big and hard and—holy shit, he’s huge. I feel myself stretching to accommodate his girth and I let my eyes flutter closed, biting my lower lip as I focus on the feeling between my legs. 

“If it’s too much, we can use lube,” he says gently. “I didn’t know we would be doing this today, or I would have brought some.”

How is he so sweet and thoughtful, even in the middle of sex?

“If we need it…I have some,” I pant, my brain starting to short-circuit as he presses deeper into me. 

It’s equal parts too much and not enough, and the deeper he goes, the more uncomfortable it is—the more I want. Like I may never get enough of him. 

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs as he thrusts up and I sink down. “Just a little more.”

Slowly, carefully, he moves forward until—the feeling is hard to describe. If I didn’t know my anatomy pretty well, I would swear he’s about to split me in half. But he’s not. He’s warm and snug and completely seated deep inside me.

“Fuck.” I hiss out the word, wiggling on his lap to find a more comfortable position. Being on top makes the pressure almost unbearable. Yet the thought of moving away is worse.

Then he reaches out and puts those big, warm hands on my hips.

“Let me,” he says in that gruff tone that makes my insides flutter with need.

And he starts to move. 

He slides in deep and then glides out slowly. My hands are on his chest, trying to balance as his hips rise and fall. I’ve never been with a man with so much control and it’s beautiful to watch. He’s beautiful—in the most masculine way ever. The way he moves. The way the muscles of his abdomen strain every time he thrusts into me. The gorgeous intensity reflected on his handsome face.

I’ve never experienced anything quite like this.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is low, gritty, and it’s so fucking sexy.

“More of this,” I whisper.

“You like it rough, princess?”

“With you, I do.”

His smile is devilish.

Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped us over and I’m on my back. I don’t think he even pulled out, merely switched our positions and kept right on going. Except now his big body is covering mine, our mouths are fused together, and he’s holding both of my hands over my head in one of his. 

His hips snap forward every time he pushes into me, and my legs open wider to give him better access. If I wasn’t so completely swept up in this guy—and this moment—it probably would have been painful. He’s impossibly big, and yet, each time he bottoms out my eyes roll back and something deep inside flutters with the need for more. It feels like I can’t get enough, and I don’t want to.

“Your pretty little cunt was made for my cock,” he growls against my mouth. “Can you take more?”

“Yes. Please.” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own, I’m that lost in what we’re doing. 

He lets go of my hands and brings his own down under my ass. Squeezing tight, he whispers, “hang on, princess.” Then he starts pounding away. There’s no finesse to it, just an animalistic rhythm that’s relentless—and exactly what I need. 

I lose all sense of time and space, fingers clawing at his back as I arch my hips to take every thrust. It’s perfect in the way that something you didn’t realize you needed surpasses every possible expectation.

“Elliott!” His name escapes in a shrill cry as my insides tighten in anticipation of what’s coming. Every thrust brings me a little closer to the edge, and with the next thrust, I fall over. My body shakes with the ferocity of my orgasm, and I’m almost positive my nails have ripped into his skin. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice and doesn’t slow down. In fact, he starts moving even faster, changing the angle of his hips and hitting a spot I didn’t know existed. My eyes roll back, my body stiffens, and the first orgasm rolls right into the next. And another. Until it’s all a blur of pain and pleasure and the most incredible intensity of my life.

“Elliott.” This time my voice is soft, almost pleading. “I can’t…oh God.” I’m swept away yet again just as a roar leaves him. He pumps into me a few more times, hard and fast and—then he collapses. His large, heavy body presses me into the mattress but it’s okay because if he moved away now, I might cry.

I want to say something, explain how I’m feeling, but I’m incapable of speech at the moment. Hell, I can barely breathe. My body is still shuddering, tiny aftershocks make me pulse against him. He’s still inside me, still thick and hard, still keeping me a willing prisoner. 

“You okay?” he asks after a while, pressing soft kisses along my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks.

“Mmm. I’m wonderful.”

“I don’t think it’s scientifically accurate, but I feel like if I stay inside you for a while after we’re done, maybe we’ll have a better chance of conceiving.”

I smile. “I don’t think that’s scientifically accurate either, but it can’t hurt.”

“Nope.” He lifts himself so he can look at me. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I was rough.”

“Nooo.” I smile lazily. “It was amazing. I got off three times in a row.”

“Next time we’ll try for five.”

“That might kill me.”

“It’ll be worth it, though.”

“Mmhm.” 

We lay there for a while, him on top of me, resting on one elbow and using his free hand to gently run his fingers through my hair. I’ve never had sex where a man was able to make me come like that. Usually, it’s all about toys and lube and me playing with my clit as the guy fucks me. With Elliott, I don’t need anything but him. I didn’t know it could be like this. Perfect. Uninhibited. Safe. 

As if this was always meant to be.

“I like being here with you,” he whispers, nipping my earlobe.

“I like it too.”

“Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” he asks randomly.

“No. I assumed maybe we’d practice a little more baby making.”

“We can do that, but I also have outside plans. My old mentor from the UFC is in town and wants to have lunch. I’d like you to meet him.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised but also pleased. “I’d like that. Who is he?”

“You said you weren’t a big fan, but he went by Gargoyle Garth when he fought.”

“Gargoyle Garth?” I snicker. “Is he…ugly?”

“I don’t know about ugly. He’s definitely not traditionally handsome. But he was badass in the ring.”

“And he was your mentor?”

“Yeah. He fought his final fight about six months after I got involved. We were in different weight classes, plus I wasn’t ready to fight someone like him. But he gave me a lot of time, a lot of advice. It made a huge difference.”

“And you lost touch?”

“You know how it is. He retired, got married, the usual. Apparently, he lost his wife to cervical cancer and that’s why he’s planning this charity fight.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I’m considering it,” he admits. “Would you be okay with that?”

“I’m not going to tell you not to do something you really want to do,” I say gently. “By the same token, I wouldn’t expect you to forbid me from doing things.”

“That’s fair. Although I will weigh in if I think you’re not taking care of yourself—like staying up for nearly forty-eight hours.”

“Well, number one, you were right, and number two, you didn’t order me. You gently insisted.”

“Is that the magic formula?” he asks with a soft smile. “Being gentle?”

“Approaching things because you care, as opposed to simply getting your way.”

“I’m pretty stubborn when I’m working, and I automatically take control in the bedroom, but anything I say or do will be with your best interests at heart.”

“That works for me.” I reach up and run my fingers through his damp hair. “What time is lunch?”

“Not until one.” He dips his head and kisses me again. “Which means we can go another round or two.”

“I have to shower and get ready,” I say, laughing. “So maybe one more round.”

“I can be quick.”

“Yeah? You think you can make me be quick?”

“Challenge accepted.”

Chapter Twenty

Rage

After three more rounds of mind-blowing sex—two in bed and one more in the shower—I prove I can absolutely get her off quickly. She has the same effect on me, though, and it’s a huge bonus to find a woman whose libido rivals mine. I think she was sore toward the end, so I eased up on the intensity and that was the right move because she came almost instantly the moment I did. 

I could have spent all day in bed with her, but I made plans with Garth and it feels impolite to cancel because I want to spend more time in bed with the new woman in my life. 

So, now we’re walking into a trendy downtown café, Luna’s hand in mine, and I spot Garth right away. There’s a young woman sitting next to him and I almost do a double take because she’s not a day over twenty-five. Garth is twice that old. And she’s too old to be his daughter. Well, he was always a ladies’ man, and he liked them young. That’s why I was so surprised when he got married—back then, I just figured it was time. 

“Hey, man.” 

He gets up and immediately shakes my hand before turning to Luna. His eyes rake over her appreciatively, and I feel a vein start to throb in my temple. I know that mildly predatory look—and Luna is not up for grabs.

“Who is this delightful lady?” he asks, reaching for one of her hands. 

“This is Luna. My girlfriend.” I say it bluntly, letting him know I’m not messing around, and I catch his look of surprise.

“Very nice to meet you, Luna.” He smiles at her and then turns to the young woman at the table. “This is Candy. We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months. Honey, this is Rage the Cage and his girlfriend.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” She smiles politely, and we exchange pleasantries.

We sit down and a waiter immediately brings us menus. I order a beer and Luna asks for a wine spritzer, but Candy orders a double martini and Garth gets a margarita with a tequila chaser.

“A little early in the day for tequila, eh?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

He shrugs. “You only live once, my friend.”

“What do you do, Luna?” Candy asks her.

“I’m an administrative assistant for a security firm,” she replies smoothly. 

“Really more of an office manager,” I interject. I hate that she has to minimize her responsibilities and skills, but Daniil says it’s easier not to draw attention to herself.

“So, you work with a bunch of hunky bodyguards all day?” Candy asks.

“I do.” Luna smiles and bats her eyelashes at me. “But I only have eyes for one.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“Besides, there’s only one guy that’s single now, and he’s an independent contractor so he’s not around a lot.”

“You thinking about settling down?” Garth asks curiously.

“If that’s what she wants.” I slide my arm around the back of her chair. 

“I’m not ready for all that,” Candy says, shaking her head with a playful smirk at Garth.

“Dee’s a model,” he says with what appears to be a patient smile.

Of course she is; back in the day, Garth was always hooking up with models and actresses. 

“She’s going to be on next year’s Sports Illustrated cover,” Garth adds proudly. “She’s going places. Unfortunately, it means a lot of time apart for us.”

“That’s why we’re keeping things casual,” Candy reminds him. 

“So, tell me about the charity event,” Luna interjects, deftly changing the subject.

“Oh, it’s going to be a blast!” Candy says, her face lighting up. “I’m helping Garth organize it. So far, we’ve got five fights lined up.” Her eyes twinkle. “And hopefully, after today, it will be six.”

I figured that’s what this meeting was about, but I didn’t expect such a hard sell. “Well, I want to know more details,” I say. 

“How would you feel about fighting Bronco Guerin?” Garth leans forward on the table, his face filled with excitement.

Jesus.

Ben “Bronco” Guerin is badass.

I’d break him in half in a street fight, but in the ring? With judges and points and rules? He’s a beast. And he just retired last year. So he hasn’t been out of the game very long. I’ve also heard a lot of rumors about him.

“Is he still juicing?” I ask quietly.

Garth’s gaze darkens. “Look, this isn’t a UFC fight—I don’t have control over what everyone does in retirement.”

“Maybe not, but it could be dangerous. For me and for him.”

“Jesus, you’re still a Boy Scout, aren’t you?”

I narrow my gaze at him. “I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, but yeah, I have a thing about rules. Especially when my safety is on the line.”

“Love has made you a little soft, eh?”

I tense for a second, but then Luna surreptitiously squeezes my thigh, reminding me I don’t have to take the bait. I don’t owe him anything, certainly not details about my relationship. Because I can’t think about a single thing that could ever make me “soft.”

“Creeping up toward forty has made me conscientious about my health,” I reply slowly. “I would think you, of all people, would understand that.” He retired because of multiple concussions. The doctors warned him another one could cause permanent brain damage—he chose to walk away. Now he’s suddenly acting like we’re all invincible. 

He must sense my annoyance because he holds up a hand in a placating gesture. “No, you’re right. I do understand. And there will be rules in place—we just haven’t gotten that far. I’ll talk to him, on the down low, get a feel for what he’s been up to. This is about raising money for charity. Obviously, we don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” Candy interjects breathlessly. Then she launches into an explanation about everything they have planned. The silent auction and all the donations she’s already procured, which would take place as a kind of meet and greet the evening before the fights. The champagne brunch the morning after. The celebrities signing on with donations and appearances. She drops a few names that are genuinely impressive. Maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.

“It sounds wonderful,” Luna says warmly. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d love to.”

“Let me think about it,” Candy says eagerly. “I’m sure I could use you somewhere, especially in the days leading up to the event. There are going to be a million details to take care of.”

“Well, count me in.”

Things are more relaxed after that, and it reminds me of the days when Garth was mentoring me. Telling fun stories about fights, women he dated, and all the places he got to travel to. I note that he doesn’t mention his wife, and I wonder if that’s in deference to Candy or if it’s just too painful.

“Do you have children?” Luna asks at one point.

The expression on Garth’s face is hard to read, a strange combination of regret and…fear? It’s weird, because he’s not a man I’ve ever seen show fear. Then it’s gone and his lips thin sadly.

“No. By the time I met Marissa, I think it was too late. We didn’t know right away, of course, although the infertility issues should have been our first clue that something was wrong. Then the cancer diagnosis and they had to take everything out. It took a few years to kill her, but we never had the chance. I guess that’s a blessing in disguise. I don’t know that I’d be a great single dad.”

Candy reaches over and puts a hand over his. “You’d be better than you think. Most of us learn to dig deep for the important stuff.”

“Well, I’m too old now,” he says. “Any woman I’m with has to be okay with no kids. I can’t see starting over with an infant in my fifties.”

“I’m too busy for babies anyway,” Candy says. “Not to mention it would ruin my body, which is how I make a living.”

“Speaking of making a living,” Garth turns to me. “You happy doing the bodyguard thing? I could hook you up in the fighting world. You’d make a great agent.”

“I own part of the business,” I say with a shrug. “And this is what I do.”

“You and Grim?” he asks knowingly.

I nod. “Yup. We’ve put together a good team, with a great support network. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What about the fight? You in? Come on—it’ll be fun. And you know you want to.”

It’s a little disconcerting that freakin’ everyone seems to know how much I love to fight. Because I do. The issue is that I have a job that requires me to be in the best shape possible—I can’t spend weeks recovering from bruised or broken ribs, kidneys or whatever other injuries are prevalent in those kinds of fights. And Bronco could put a hurt on me if I’m not prepared.

“I’d like to,” I say carefully, “but I do have to check my schedule. There’s an actress who needs protection on a movie set in Vancouver next month, and a few other commitments we have to split up. Give me twenty-four hours to sit down with everyone and look at the schedule.”

“Absolutely.” Garth nods but I can see in his eyes he believes it’s a done deal.

And the worst part—he’s probably right.

Chapter Twenty-One

Luna

As soon as I get to my office on Monday, I look up Candy. Sure enough, she’s a pretty successful model who goes by the name Dee Anne professionally. She’s been on a lot of covers and there are outtakes from her shoot for Sports Illustrated that are stunning. She has the body I always wished I could have but I’m not in my twenties anymore. For the most part, I’m happy with who I am and how I look. 

Especially now.

Rage pretty much worshipped every inch of my body over the weekend. We never left the apartment on Sunday, which was kind of nice. I made breakfast—that’s his favorite meal of the day—and then ordered takeout for dinner. We watched two movies—a rom com I chose and a war film he picked—and the rest of the time was spent naked. Hell, most of the time was spent naked, other than when we went out to lunch with Garth and Candy, and while I was cooking. 

Apparently, Rage doesn’t love clothes when he’s at home. I mean, with a body like his, why would anyone want to cover it? 

“Good morning.” Courtney peeks her head in and holds out Celeste.

“Is this my daily dose of cuddles?” I ask, laughing and taking the baby.

“You didn’t get any all weekend.”

“Oh, I got plenty all weekend,” I reply with as straight a face as I can manage.

“Yeah?” She perches on the edge of my desk with a grin. “Do tell.”

“Exactly what you might imagine—lots of hot, energetic and very pleasurable sex. He spent the weekend at my place.”

“No wonder you both took the weekend off.” She peers at the pictures on the monitor. “Who’s that?”

“Dee Anne, the model. She’s dating Rage’s old mentor from his fighting days.” I pause. “I think he’s going to do this charity fight for cervical cancer.”

Her brows inch up. “Yeah? He hasn’t shown interest in fighting since he left. Other than for workout purposes.”

“Well, Garth made him a tempting offer.”

“That must be what he and Daniil are talking about in his office.” 

“He’s torn. I know he wants to but he’s cognizant of the possibility of injury and putting his face out there in public.”

“Anyone who’s a fan of the sport already knows what Rage the Cage looks like. This won’t be anything new.”

“I think he’s worried about our clientele.”

“If it wasn’t for charity, it might be an issue, but I think it’ll be fine.” She stands up. “Well, I’m off to work out. Dan keeps her so I can have a little time to focus.”

“I can keep her,” I say with a smile. “I don’t have anything pressing to do today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides, it’ll be good practice for me.”

“Okay, you don’t have to ask me twice. If anything does come up, just take her to Dan. He’ll be gone for twenty minutes while he takes Micah to preschool, but then he’ll be back.”

“I think I can handle a baby for twenty minutes.”

“She’s fed and changed but there’s a bottle and diapers in the bag.” She motions to the diaper bag at her feet.

“Okay. Have a good workout.” I settle Celeste in the crook of my left arm and then navigate the mouse with my right hand. The infant seems content to just sit and take in her surroundings, probably fascinated by all the lights and colors of my ten monitors. 

She lets out a tiny whimper after about ten minutes and I gently bounce her. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You getting bored? Want to go for a walk?”

“I can take her.”

I whirl, startled to find Rage standing there with a faint smile. 

“You want to hold her?”

His eyes meet mine for a second and he nods. “Sure. I spent a lot of time rocking Micah when he was this little.”

I gently pass the baby to him and the sight of her tiny body pressed against his much larger one does things to me. It’s like he’s been doing this all his life. Despite all the things we discussed about making a baby together—I haven’t yet taken the time to imagine what that would actually look like.

Now it’s staring me in the face and its…beautiful. He’s huge but there’s nothing awkward or uncomfortable about the way he holds Celeste. And she seems as fascinated with him as she was with the lights of my monitors, one tiny fist waving beneath his chin.

“You already looking to learn how to fight?” he asks her playfully, bouncing her slightly. The baby gurgles and we sit there for a while, him talking in a low, gentle voice and me just…watching. Taking it all in. This could be my life. Our life. 

And for the first time, I don’t just want it—I need it. It’s a physical yearning so strong, I feel it in my bones. Jesus. I can’t even describe what I’m feeling right now, and it’s intense enough to make me vulnerable.

So, I turn back to my computers.

Because that’s safer.

“You, uh, want to take her for a walk?” I ask, without looking at him.

“Sure.” He hesitates for a beat. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I don’t dare turn around, focusing instead on the monitors in front of me.

I’m completely disoriented and I don’t know why exactly. Well, I know I’ve had a crush on Rage almost since the first time I laid eyes on him. I also know how good he is in bed. How kind and gentle he is. That he likes me too.

But what I’m suddenly feeling is scary. No, it’s terrifying. This has the potential to become something real. Something permanent. Hell, I could already be pregnant. Probably not, but it’s possible. And that would change everything.

Except…it’s too soon.

We still barely know each other. 

I still haven’t told him a lot about the past. He says he doesn’t care but they’re important details. 

Who I used to be. The things I did. The potential danger I’m in. Daniil protects me in the most general sense but nothing is guaranteed. The people I threatened to expose are dangerous. Powerful. In many ways, more powerful than Daniil. If they ever find me… my mind goes back to the strange knocking on my door. My hacked credit card and bank account—I’m still dealing with all that. I found where the money went but the people responsible are buried so deep even I can’t find them yet. 

That’s what I should be thinking about right now, not Rage. 

Not babymaking.

Certainly not falling in love. 

Impulsively, I get up and walk over to Daniil’s office. He’s just gotten back from his preschool run and he smiles at me. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

I close the door and sit down.

“What’s on your mind?”

“A bunch of shit,” I admit.

“Maybe pick one?” he suggests, sinking down in the chair next to mine instead of the one behind his desk.

“Rage and I are…” My voice trails because I’m not sure how to explain it.

“Dating. I know.”

“Yes, but we’re also…” Why is it so hard to say what’s on my mind?

Daniil just waits, though, his head slightly cocked.

“Trying to get pregnant!” I blurt. “Because I’m thirty-five and have PMOS.”

He doesn’t seem surprised. Probably because Courtney would have told him. Duh. I’m an idiot.

“You haven’t told him about your past,” he says, like it’s fact and not a question.

“Not everything. How much does he know just because of what we share as owners of the company?”

“He knows you filed bankruptcy. Got arrested because of your hacking past. That your deal with the FBI means you’re not supposed to be working in computers or cyber anything but that I handled that part of it.”

“He doesn’t know the specifics about the deal we have with WITSEC.”

“Not unless you told him.”

“No. Not yet. I just…fuck, this is hard. It’s still new! I wanted to wait a while.”

“Then wait.”

I give him a grim look. “So he can potentially find out on his own and then feel like our whole relationship has been a lie?”

“Then tell him.”

I glare at him in exasperation. “You’re not helping!”

“What do you want from me?” he asks gently. “That’s not sarcasm. How can I help? Would you like me to tell him?”

“What?” I gape at him. “No! God, that would be awful.”

“Then what? Permission?”

I sigh. “Maybe? Not permission so much as…advice. Am I doing the right thing?”

“Hon, only you can know the answer to that. You’re the only one who knows how you feel. How he feels.”

“That’s just it—I have no idea how he feels. It’s new. I mean, he likes me. Obviously, we wouldn’t be trying for a baby if he didn’t. But we’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

“Then why are you here second-guessing everything instead of just enjoying it?”

“Because I don’t want to enjoy it so much and then be devastated when it blows up in my face.”

“Rage isn’t stupid. He understands you have a complicated past. That’s not going to scare him away.”

“What about all the other stuff…like my bank account getting hacked. The weird knocking on the door in the middle of the night. What if someone…found me?”

“Your new security system is being installed as we speak, and your money should be back in your account any day now. It’s all handled.”

“I know. They’re sending me a new debit card, and I have a whole new account number but it just makes me nervous. The weird knocking, my bank account, and my Amex—all hit around the same time. What does that mean?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t know exactly. I’d like to think it’s bad luck, and the knocking may not be anything other than kids being kids. What does this supposed person get out of knocking on your door in the middle of the night?”

“They get to scare me.”

He nods. “You want me to handle it? I can surreptitiously put cameras all over your building. No one else will know. I can put a GPS tracker on your car. You can carry one in your purse, if it makes you feel better. What do you need, Luna?”

I’m suddenly beginning to feel ridiculous.

Once presented with the proof of hacking, and Daniil’s involvement since he banks there as well, the bank bent over backwards to help me. My new American Express card came in the mail on Saturday. There was no weird knocking all weekend. I have my money back and even Daniil agreed the flowers were probably from Roger when I told him about it earlier. 

I’m probably overthinking everything.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally. “Maybe it’s just a bit of PTSD related to everything that happened when I got arrested. I felt like the walls were closing in then, and I guess I felt a little of that again now.”

“You’re fine. Your concern is completely understandable, and I’m always here to listen. It was a foreign entity of scammers—that’s why you couldn’t find them—who lucked onto your information. Now you’ve changed everything. Your money is safe. Stop looking for trouble where there isn’t any. Try to enjoy life, would you? You have a lot to look forward to.”

I smile. 

Because I do.

I have to stop living in the past.

And the next time Rage and I have some quiet time together, I’m going to tell him everything.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rage

Monday morning staff meetings are usually casual but today’s is a lot more intense. The entire staff is here, including Luna and Courtney, because we’re getting into our busy season. A large amount of the business Daniil has been lining up is starting now or will begin soon, and this is the first time assignments are being officially doled out. I’m also going to announce that I’ve decided to start training for the charity fight.

Luna said she would support whatever decision I make, even though I suspect she’s a little nervous about me getting hurt, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. But she’s actually getting involved too. She and Candy have been talking about ways she can help, and I think she’s going to bring Allora and Courtney on board as well.

“We have a full agenda this morning,” Daniil says. “A few announcements before we get to the nitty-gritty of the schedule. First, we’ve just hired a full-time nanny. Her name is Estelle Machado. She’s been an early education teacher for twenty years and was looking for a change. Obviously, I’ve run the full background check, everything is good. She’ll be starting next week, taking care of Celeste and Micah for us during business hours so Courtney and I have more time to devote to the company. Eventually, that will morph into her running the daycare here at the office, and we’ll find someone else to be a full-time nanny for when we travel and such.”

“Next is that Eric is taking a week’s vacation to handle a personal matter. He can tell you about it, or not, when he returns. Try not to be too nosy.”

Everyone chuckles.

“Okay, the schedule.” He has his laptop open and we’ve all received a printout. “This is a big one—we scored the contract to handle security on the set of the Dusty Peaks television show. The downside is that most of the filming is being done in Atlanta, which means you’ll all have to cycle in and out of there. Darryl Carruthers, who used to own Westfield & Carruthers Security, is living there now, so he’s going to liaison for us and we’ll pay him a consulting fee to take on building the framework of the security plan. I’m going down there next week to finalize some details. 

“Eric and Chaos are taking on the bulk of the project. Chaos will be there full-time to manage the project and act as Lacy Fontaine’s personal bodyguard.” She’s one of the stars of the show, as well as a friend of Allora’s. “Also, since Allora has a connection to both the show and to Lacy, she and Grim will be down there a good part of the time as well. Beyond that, we’ll have a rotating staff going to Atlanta for two weeks at a time.

“I believe there are also going to be a few weeks on location in New York City, so if anyone feels strongly about being there for that, or not being there as the case may be, let me know now.”

“I’ll do it,” Grim offers. “Allora has a lot of work in New York so it would be a good opportunity for both of us.”

Daniil nods, types something into his laptop and continues.

Usually, I don’t pay a lot of attention, but I’m on the schedule next. Once Mark comes back in two weeks, I’m the next one to go.

Two weeks away from Luna at such an early stage of our relationship isn’t the best timing.

On one hand, it might be good because I can focus on work, training, and what I have to eat to get into shape. I’m not going crazy since the fight is for charity, but I always want to do my best. 

On the other hand, Luna can do most of her job from anywhere. Maybe she can come with me for part of the time. Not that it would be much fun for her, because that kind of security can be all-encompassing. They don’t work a set nine to five schedule, which means sometimes they’ll go until late at night. Other times it’ll be over by lunch. There are a ton of variables, including the script, whether the scenes are indoors or outdoors, the weather, and more.

I’m so lost in thought I miss that Daniil is talking to me.

“What?” I ask, frowning.

“What kind of adjustments do we need to make that won’t interfere with this upcoming charity event you’ve signed on for?”

I skim the schedule and almost everything revolves around Dusty Peaks. The rest is pretty standard.

“I need to be local the first week of September,” I say. “The charity gala is that weekend and I’m fighting Saturday night.”

Everyone freezes. “You’re fighting?” Mark asks, frowning.

“You decided to do it?” Grim asks at the same time.

I nod. “It’s for cervical cancer, which is a good cause, and I love to fight. It seems like it’s win-win.”

There’s some chatter as everyone starts making plans to attend and Daniil finally has to shut everyone up. 

“Okay, guys, we can talk about the fight after the briefing.”

The group starts to boo and Courtney throws a balled-up napkin at him. He just rolls his eyes and keeps talking.

My phone immediately buzzes.

GRIM: You sure about this? You need me to help you train?

RAGE: Yes and yes.

GRIM: You got it.

Luna’s texts come next.

LUNA: The gang is a little TOO excited about you fighting again…

RAGE: Not you?

LUNA: I just don’t want you to get hurt. But I’m excited for you because I know how much you enjoy it. Plus, I’ve only ever seen you fight in videos. Seeing it live will be both interesting and terrifying.

RAGE: I won’t be mad if you don’t want to watch. I understand that it might be a little…brutal.

LUNA: Even if I have to cover my eyes, there’s no way I won’t be there for you! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t support you in the things you want to do?

RAGE: The kind who doesn’t enjoy violence.

LUNA: That’s true but short of an emergency, there is no universe where I don’t show up.

RAGE: You don’t know how much I appreciate it.

LUNA: Maybe you can show me tonight.

RAGE: I could show you many things…did you have any one thing in particular?

LUNA: I don’t know. Didn’t you say something about handcuffs once…

RAGE: You sure you know what you’re asking for, princess?

LUNA: Oh, I’m fairly certain.

RAGE: Buckle up, buttercup. You better eat some extra protein today.

LUNA: You might want to take the same advice, big guy.

I chuckle to myself. 

We’re totally ignoring the meeting, but I can read the damn schedule. I don’t know why we have to go over it in detail.

“Rage.” Mark’s voice brings me out of my lusty haze. “You think you could switch the job on October fourteenth for any other day? That’s my wife’s birthday.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.

There are a few more change requests, Daniil makes them, and then we’re free for the rest of the day. Well, I am. Luna apparently has things to do because she bustles off to her office before I have a chance to talk to her, but that’s okay. We’re going back to my place tonight, so I need a little time to prepare anyway. I joked about handcuffs but I honestly have no idea where they are. I may even have to buy a new pair because I haven’t had a woman over since I moved into my current apartment.

“Hey.” Grim comes up behind me as I head for the exit.

“Hey. What are you up to the rest of today?”

“Allora and I have some errands to run.” He pauses, eyeing me. 

“What?” I ask.

“You sure about this fight?”

“You already asked me that.”

“You’ve been out of the game a long time.”

“You think I can’t handle myself?” I ask in surprise.

“No, you can totally handle yourself. It just seems like you have other things to think about than fighting. Back in the day, you used to be a little…intense. Training. Eating. Sleep. And you and Luna are new.”

He has a point.

But I’m not the same guy I was ten years ago.

“I was intense because at the time I thought that was going to be my life. My career. I had to be intense if I wanted to win and keep getting sponsorships. This is just for fun.”

“Okay.” 

“I do want you at my side, though,” I say. “Through training, and definitely the night of the fight. My cornerman.”

He scowls. “Like there was ever any doubt about that.”

I chuckle. “Just checking. We don’t see much of each other these days.”

“I’m not the only one who’s been busy,” he points out. 

“I know. I’m just saying.”

“You don’t have to say shit. No matter how busy we are, I will always have your back. I have since the first day of practice in college—and I will until we’re both six feet under.”

I hold out my fist and he smacks his against it. 

“I’ll see you later,” he says. “Let me know when you’re going to start training.”

“I have to drive up to L.A. next week to meet with Garth and the other fighters. Some kind of meet and greet bullshit. There’s going to be some media there to get some buzz going for the event.”

“I can come up with you.”

“Why don’t you bring Allora and the four of us can go? Luna’s planning to volunteer, and Allora was interested too.”

“I’ll mention it tonight.”

“Great.”

We both head out to the parking lot and go to our respective vehicles. 

I have a bunch of shit to do.

And tonight is date night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Luna

I stop by my apartment to pack an overnight bag since I’m going to stay at Rage’s tonight. It’s our first sleepover at his place and I can’t decide if I’m nervous or excited. Probably both. Nervous because I don’t know what to expect. What his apartment is like, where anything is, or if I’ll be comfortable. 

At the same time, there’s an edge of excitement because we’re starting to get more intimate, and I’m not talking about the bedroom, though that’s happening too. But we talk a lot, have begun making plans for future dates and adventures, and it feels like what started as a physical attraction is turning into something else. Something genuine.

That’s why I have to tell him about my past.

Tonight.

“There you are, dear!” My neighbor, Mrs. Carbione, comes running out with a smile, holding a package. She’s eighty-five and keeps me updated on everything going on in the building when I’m not home. “The mailman dropped this off. I’ve been watching for you, didn’t want anyone to walk off with it. You know how the kids in the building can be.”

“I do,” I say, taking it from her. “Thank you for holding on to it. I wonder what it is.”

“Didn’t you order anything?”

I try to remember if I did—sometimes I get a little crazy online shopping. But not the last week or two. “I don’t think so.”

I definitely didn’t order anything, so I study the package suspiciously.

She glances at me. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. I’m just curious what it is.” I scoop up the package. “See you later, Mrs. C!” 

I let myself into my apartment and disarm my fancy new alarm. I stare at the package warily. Should I open it or bring it to Rage’s place and open it with him?

Just thinking that makes me want to roll my eyes. I’m not the damsel in distress type, but I’m starting to feel paranoid and it’s ridiculous. Whatever this is, it came addressed to me, via the United States Postal Service. 

The only weird thing is that there’s no return address, just like the last one, and with a grunt of frustration, I decide not to wait. I rip open the package and inside is a black satin stuffed heart. Something you might see on Valentine’s Day, except in black. 

No note, no nothing. Just a black heart.

Fucking Roger.

Is he trying to be funny, insinuating my heart is black? That’s hilarious.

Not.

I scowl, tossing it across the room. 

He’s still sulking, I guess.

There’s a part of me that wants to call him right now and ask him what the fuck is wrong with him. But what good is giving him the attention he obviously wants? 

Unless…what if it’s not Roger?

I just can’t think of anyone else who would send me these weird gifts? First, the black roses, now the black heart. Is someone making a statement about me? My inner punk rocker loves all things black, and Roger knows that, so this has to be him. If it was someone from my past, they wouldn’t waste time with roses and hearts. 

And I’ll be damned if I let Roger ruin my evening. 

I’m humming as I walk into the bedroom and grab an overnight bag out of the closet. 

Roger is being a pain in the butt, and if this behavior continues I may have to call him out on it. Or let Rage do it.

That makes me smile. Roger would probably piss in his pants if Rage approached him in a threatening way. I’d pay money to see that. Maybe I will let Rage handle it. It’s not that I can’t, but I don’t want any negativity in my life.

I’m finally happy and my brain is undoubtedly unused to that feeling, so it’s fighting back with a random psychological thing that’s above my pay grade. 

Refusing to give Roger so much as another second of thought, I pack up clothes for work tomorrow, shorts and a T-shirt in case we want to watch a movie or something, and my toiletries. I throw in a pair of shoes, extra underwear, and my chargers. Then I sling the bag over my arm and head to the living room. I grab my purse, take out my keys, arm the alarm, and lock the door behind me. 

“Hey, princess.” Rage opens the door with a smile and leans down to kiss me.

“Hi.” I say, smiling back.

He must sense something because he cocks his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just got another stupid package from Roger.”

He scowls. “What was it this time?”

“A black satin heart. I guess he’s trying to tell me I have a black heart for breaking his?”

He rolls his eyes. “He had his chance. Do I need to have a conversation with him?”

I hesitate. “You know what, let’s see if it keeps happening or if he gives up. It’s stupid stuff, really. Unless he escalates, I’d rather it just go away.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” 

He pulls me inside and takes my bag. “I’m going to put this in the bedroom. I already ordered Thai food, which should be here any minute. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“All right. Let me put this inside.” He disappears into the bedroom and I take a moment to look around. This is definitely a bachelor pad, but it’s also very much his personality. Big TV on one wall, large sectional, and a bunch of what look like trophies and award on a small bookshelf. 

Is that a silver star medal? I stare in disbelief.

How did I not know about this?

He must have been some kind of hero in the military, and I want to hear all about it.

By the time he takes care of the delivery guy and puts the bags of food in the kitchen, I have so many questions about his life—but tonight has to be about me coming clean. It’s only fair that he knows exactly what he’s getting into, and who I really am.

We fill our plates and settle at the small table in his kitchen. 

“You won a Silver Star,” I say quietly.

“I did.” He meets my gaze curiously. “Does it matter?”

“No. There are just so many things I don’t know about you. And by the same token, you don’t know a lot of things about me.” 

“You mean, who you were before you became Luna Gallagher.”

I nod.

“Okay.” He seems perfectly calm, simply waiting for me to tell him.

So, I take a deep breath and go back to the beginning. “I was born Shawna Hunter. I grew up in Georgia. My life was pretty normal other than the fact that I started gaining weight when I was about fourteen. I got self-conscious about it, so I threw myself into my studies. Then I got into MIT and moved away to go to school. I was kind of sheltered and college was a completely different world. I started making friends who were smart like me, and most of them were guys. 

“I think that’s why I got serious about hacking. That was something I could do by myself, and it turned out I was good at it.”

“You still are.”

“Yeah, well, I was kind of full of myself in those days. And not only was I becoming a world-renowned hacker, I also felt like I had a moral obligation to right the wrongs of the world. All of them, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m familiar with that sentiment,” he murmurs softly. “You know, running off to the Middle East to fight battles that didn’t really have anything to do with me.”

I never thought about that with regard to his military service, but now that he’s vocalized it, it makes sense. “Yeah, so you get it.”

“I do.”

“I stayed in school two more years to get my master’s, but I was also working for this startup tech company. It paid well and I still had time to do schoolwork, and for a while everything was okay.” I pause. “I was a hacker but also a gamer, so I was totally involved in all things tech. Coder by day, student in the evenings, gamer and hacker overnight. I lived on caffeine and Adderall. And no, I don’t have ADD.” I pause again, trying to figure out how to tell him the rest because I’m suddenly a little nervous.

“You know nothing you tell me changes anything, right?” he asks when I’ve been quiet a little too long.

“I hope not, but I was a mess in my twenties.”

“You think you were the only one? I could tell you stories about my deployments.” He shakes his head slowly, the fingers of one hand trailing along my arm. “Things I did that I wish I hadn’t. But right now we’re talking about you.” 

“Do you remember a big story that broke about something called the Assault Academy?”

He frowns. “That website or whatever, where men could go to learn how to basically rape their partners by drugging them and whatnot?”

I nod.

“Of course I remember. That was huge. What I don’t remember is what happened with the whole thing. It’s like it just disappeared.”

“What happened was that I hacked the site and got the full list of every single person involved and sent it to activists on the dark web, thinking I would be protected since they would be the ones releasing the information. But I was wrong. There were some very powerful people on that list, and when the FBI got ahold of it, they figured out who hacked the site. And they arrested me for violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act. Which basically means I got access to computer systems without permission. That’s what a hacker does, but in this case, I did a bad thing for the right reasons. Except a lot of people were unhappy so the FBI stepped in. And I could have gotten ten years for that.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rage

It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in.

“Ten years? In prison? For outing a bunch of fucking rapists?” I’m having a hard time understanding this. 

She nods. “And when it was all said and done, after I spent every dime I had and a bunch I didn’t have on attorneys, they buried the list and I got a choice—work for the FBI, and essentially protect those awful people, or go into witness protection and never work in computers again.”

It’s hard to think of something to say because that had to be an impossible choice for her.

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine having to make a choice like that.”

“It was a dark time in my life.”

“I’m confused—isn’t rape illegal? Even if you still went to prison, why aren’t all the rapists in prison too?”

I snort. “Yeah, I’d like to know the answer to that as well. Here’s the thing, there were thousands of names on that list. I recognized a handful, movie stars and politicians and European royalty, but it was thousands of names. I didn’t read every single one. But the one that was the biggest problem was Albert Rifkin.”

All I can do is stare. “He’s…isn’t he the Secretary of Health or some shit?” I ask. “Part of the President’s cabinet?”

“Yup. And as soon as the list came out, the FBI started scrubbing it from the internet and covering up the whole thing. Remember when we got involved in that skirmish in Qatar?”

I nod.

“They did that to give the public something big to focus on. Not a war but some bombs and whatnot, enough to distract everyone while they paid off who they had to and made me the scapegoat.”

“Jesus Christ.” I shake my head. “I had no idea. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You and almost everyone else. They worked fast. I mean, everything happened within hours. I sent out what I uncovered at midnight, thinking I’d wake up to it being a huge headline. Instead, I woke up to the FBI at my door, arresting me at eight in the morning.”

“Fuck.” I reach for her hand. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“By the time I agreed to go into WITSEC, I’d lost everything. I didn’t care where they sent me or what job they got me. I just didn’t want to be involved anymore.”

“Of course.”

“Does that make me a coward?”

“No. It makes you human.” I squeeze her hand tightly.

“Do you think less of me?”

“Why would I think less of you? You were in an impossible situation and parts of our government are obviously corrupt as fuck.”

“Yeah.” She sighs, staring off at nothing. “So Luna Gallagher isn’t a real person.”

“Of course she is! You’re you. Your name, whether it’s Shawna or Luna, doesn’t change who you are as a woman. Or who you are to me.”

She lifts her head and her gaze pierces mine. Like she can’t quite believe what I’m saying.

“What? Did you really think that story would change anything between us?” I lean down and brush my lips across hers, watching as her eyes flutter closed. “Honey, there’s nothing you could tell me that would do that.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you. Hearing you say that means so much.” She leans over and rests her head on my shoulder and lets out a huge breath of relief. As if she’s been worried about this.

“Have you been worried about this? Like, legitimately afraid to tell me that story?”

“Not afraid but definitely concerned. I worry about a lot of things. Sometimes I wish I could turn myself off,” she admits softly. 

“You can. When you’re with me, you should absolutely turn off. Let me do the heavy lifting when we’re together.”

“I’m not used to letting anyone help.”

“What about your parents? Are they still in your life?”

She shakes her head ruefully. “We had a falling out when I got arrested. They were embarrassed, their daughter was a criminal, shit like that. And unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to discuss what I knew, what was in those documents. I only got my new identity by leaving everyone and everything in my past behind. Including my parents. I got to say goodbye, but that was about it.”

“That would be a lot for anyone. And you were, what? Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“How long have you been in witness protection?”

“Nearly six years. It took a while for everything to go down. In the meantime, I had to file bankruptcy because my legal fees wiped me out. I lost my job, my parents wanted nothing to do with me, and I never had a lot of friends in the first place. That’s why I’m so happy here. Daniil and Courtney saved me in ways I can’t even explain. And now I’m afraid that my past may screw up everything I’ve worked so hard to rebuild.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” I say firmly. “Especially not when you’re with me.”

“I know, but you can’t stop the past from coming back to haunt me.”

“Why would it? You think Rifkin knows who you are?”

“He probably knows about Shawna but not necessarily where I wound up or my new identity. But there were thousands of names on that list. And they buried it so fast no one had time to get the details. The only good thing that came out of it is that the whole thing was shut down. The website and the whole organization. There was no way they could get back in business once that breach happened. They just wanted it to go away so all the powerful people on that list could deny everything.”

“Assholes.”

“But now you understand why I get nervous when weird things happen, like my accounts getting hacked and packages arriving.”

“Yeah, I can see that, but you know shit happens, right? You can’t get worked up over every little thing. My credit card got hacked last year. It sucked. I had to cancel everything, wait for a new card, change all my passwords…and I’m not in witness protection. Bad things happen to lots of people.”

“I know. But when they happen to me, I can’t help but start overthinking everything. It’s hard not to. Mostly because I have so much to lose now.”

“Eventually, you’ll get past that. And I’m always here for you, honey. If you’re feeling nervous, scared, whatever it is—call me. I’m usually no more than twenty minutes away. If I’m traveling, call Allora or Grim. No one is going to think less of you because your past trauma occasionally haunts you.”

“I’ve spent my entire adult life not being able to rely on anyone but myself. It’s hard to change gears like that.”

“If you’re going to be with me, you’ll have to get used to relying on someone because that’s how I roll. Also, because I’m crazy about you.”

I dip my head to capture her lips even as I see the look of amazement in her eyes. Like no one’s ever said that to her before. I’m just not sure if it’s the part about relying on someone or the fact that I’m crazy about her that has her so surprised. 

Her lips part for me, and I let my tongue drift in to meet hers. There’s an urgency that’s tempered by how out of sorts she’s been tonight. I want to take her to bed and do every dirty, naughty thing I can think of, but I need to make sure she’s feeling more like herself first. Her comfort will always come before my libido—even when I know she wants me just as badly as I want her.

“Don’t you want to eat dinner?” I whisper against her mouth.

“I just want you,” she whispers back.

“Once I take you to bed, we might not come out for a while.”

Her eyes light up, and the worry I’ve been watching for the last hour disappears.

Okay, so maybe a few orgasms is the best way to distract her from her demons.

Without breaking our kiss, I lift to my feet with her still in my arms. 

“Rage!” She gasps but I just carry her into the bedroom.

“Holy shit,” she says when I dump her on the bed. “This bed is huge.”

“I’m huge,” I respond, pulling off my shirt. “Last one to get undressed gets a spanking!”

She actually laughs, throwing back her head, and it’s exactly the lighthearted sound I enjoy from her. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, big guy.” She kicks out her foot and pokes me with her toe. I grab her foot and yank her toward me, leaning down to kiss a trail along her calf. 

“I guess you lose,” I murmur between kisses, letting her skirt slide up her legs. 

“Gosh darn it, I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to get a spanking.” She sighs dramatically and fans herself.

I chuckle, enjoying this playful side of her. I’m also excited about the prospect of spanking her. It’s yet another aspect of sex that I’ve always had to be cautious about because of my size. I’m always hyper aware of my strength when I’m with a woman and sometimes the restraint can be a distraction. With Luna, though, I don’t think I’m going to think about it beyond the obvious. We already discussed consent—she knows she can tell me to stop at any time—and I would never hurt her.

“Who said you should get undressed?” I ask, sliding off my jeans. “You’ve already lost so you might as well let me have the privilege of doing it.”

“By all means then.” She flops back onto the mattress and raises her arms over her head. 

With a grin, I crawl across the bed and straddle her hips with my knees. She’s wearing a pretty white lace top with big red decorative buttons and I take a moment to run my fingers over them. 

“These are the same size as your nipples,” I say. 

“That’s why I bought the shirt,” she deadpans.

We both snicker. 

Then I slip my hands beneath her shirt, letting them skin the soft, warm skin of her torso. Her stomach flutters ever so slightly and I lower my head so I can kiss the area around her belly button. I can see the bottom of a white lacy bra but I’ll take that off soon enough. First, I need to finish what I’m doing with her stomach. 

She’s so soft, I can’t resist gently rubbing the side of my face against her skin. She threads her fingers into my hair, caressing my scalp and the side of my face. I lean into her touch because it’s become addictive in the short time we’ve been together. I don’t just enjoy touching her—I really like how it feels when she touches me. And she’s not stingy about it. 

I may take the lead in bed but she gives me what I need from a woman.

Attention.

Sweetness.

And the big thing for me—the lack of fear. 

Never once has she winced or flinched or any of the things women often do just being around me. It’s not about being preconditioned, because I’ve never laid a hand on a woman in anger in my life, but more of a reflex reaction to someone so large being in your space.

Luna doesn’t have those reactions. Not once.

Not when I put my hand on her throat the other night while I was inside her. Not when I threaten to spank her. Never.

That, coupled with everything else I adore about her, tells me I was right all along—she’s it for me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Luna

Elliott scoops me up off the bed like I weigh nothing.

It’s a little heady to be with someone who can do that. I’ve never experienced it before, and I can’t speak for other women, but I love being weightless. 

Even when he puts me over his lap and smacks his hand down on my ass.

It doesn’t hurt, not really, and I think after so many years of female issues I have an unusually high tolerance for pain. 

For me, letting him spank me is a thrilling game where I get to be the helpless maiden and he’s the big, overbearing alpha male. I would never put up with it in any other aspect of my life, but in the bedroom? I’m already so aroused it’s not funny. 

“You like sassing me, huh?” he asks in a gruff voice.

I wiggle my bottom as much as I can in this position. “Yeah, kinda.” I can’t keep the humor from my voice, and I feel more than hear the rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

Then he runs one of those big, warm hands over the curve of my ass. “I see that. You’re something else, Luna.” His voice is low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to me, but then he rests one hand on the small of my back and slides the other beneath my skirt. 

When he gets to my panties, he toys with them for a bit, caressing the fabric and slipping his fingers between my legs. He must like what he finds there because a low, edgy sound escapes him, something between a groan and a hum. 

“Such a great ass,” he continues in that gritty voice I love so much. “You think you’d let me take your ass sometime?”

“We’d have to work up to that,” I reply. “You’re…way too big to jump into it.”

“Definitely not jumping into anything. Maybe I’ll put a plug in your Christmas stocking.”

Christmas.

That’s five whole months away and he’s thinking about what he’s going to put in my stocking. 

“And lube,” I say, trying to keep the mood light despite the emotions starting to run roughshod through my heart.

His hand comes down unexpectedly, catching me off-guard and making me gasp.

“Oh!”

He rubs his hand over the area and then smacks it again. 

“What do you think? Do these panties belong to me now?”

“If you want them to.” My voice is a little breathless.

He slides them over my hips, down to my knees, and then smacks my ass again. 

I’ve never been into this before but somehow it feels right with Elliott. I like being overpowered by him. The little bit of pain he causes me. The thing is, I know he’s capable of causing me physical harm.

I also know he won’t. 

And that dichotomy is so fucking hot.

Every time his hand comes down, the burning sensation morphs into something deeper. Emotional. Fulfilling. I can’t even describe the way it impacts me. As if I’ve been waiting my entire life for someone to make me feel like this.

Those magical fingers are so good at bringing both pleasure and pain, it’s slowly becoming the same thing. I can’t help but squirm, an impatient sound emerging from my lungs. 

“This make you hot, princess?” he asks after a while, making big circles with his hand over the area he’s been spanking. 

“So much.”

One finger drifts between my legs and slides into me.

“I guess it does.” He presses the finger deeper and I whimper, clamping around it.

“I think you’ve been punished enough.” He slowly gets me on my feet and positions me so my back is to him.

“Straddle my thighs,” he says.

I wiggle into position since my skirt is still bunched up around my hips. 

“Use your hand and put him inside you,” he directs gruffly.

I fumble to grip his shaft and position it where it needs to be. 

“Now sink down,” he whispers, biting my earlobe. One arm is around my waist and the other is at my hip. Holding me in place. Guiding me exactly where I have to be. As I sink down, his girth forces me wide open, and we both moan. With him, it’s always too much and not enough at the same time, and it’s fucking amazing. 

“That’s a good girl.” His words are warm but edgy, making me clench with need.

“Oh, fuck.” I gasp when he bottoms out.

I’m so full.

It feels different in this position, with me on his lap—reverse cowgirl.

“Look up, princess.”

Slowly, I lift my eyes and realize we’re positioned on the edge of the bed that faces his dresser—and mirror. 

The picture in front of me is magical. 

His dark head next to mine.

His broad shoulders dwarfing me.

The bottom couple of inches of his cock sticking out from beneath my core. 

“So fucking hot,” he breathes. With one hand, he moves to my blouse and begins unbuttoning it. As the sides slowly move apart, revealing my bra, he reaches in to lift one breast out of the cup. It sits on top of my underwire, and he takes a moment to toy with my nipple before doing the same thing on the other side.

My breath is coming hot and fast, my body quivering with need.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Don’t rush me, princess. This is fucking everything.”

And it is.

I don’t know what he sees, but what I see is undoubtedly something else.

With Elliott, I look small. Delicate. Petite almost.

Those are words that have never, ever been used to describe me. 

Seeing it in the mirror is better than any porn or anything I could have come up with in my imagination. 

“Perfect,” he murmurs, running his thumbs back and forth over my nipples. “How do you feel about nipple clamps?”

“Are they going in my…stocking?” I pant, trying to keep things lighthearted but falling short.

“They’re going on your nipples,” he growls. “So I can tug on them while I’m fucking you. And no way in hell I’m waiting for Christmas to do it!” He thrusts up hard and deep and my insides turn to molten lava. 

I try to move but my feet don’t touch the ground and he’s gripping me too tightly.

“You’ll sit there and take it,” he whispers, one hand closing around my throat and squeezing. 

I gulp, it’s all I can manage, and my head falls back against his chest.

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “And watch your man fuck you.”

It takes an almost herculean effort to lift my heavy lids, but I manage to meet his gaze in the mirror and it’s…intoxicating. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man as sexy and powerful as Elliott Rageis is right now. He’s pounding into me, his cock moving at an angle that makes me see stars every time he bottoms out. 

He glides against my slick walls with practiced precision, as if he knows exactly what we both need. Every time our eyes meet in the mirror I see everything I’m feeling reflected back at me and it brings me right to the edge. I’m practically a prisoner in his arms, and yet I’ve never felt safer. More beautiful. Or more alive. 

“Please…” I whisper hoarsely. “Please!”

“We’re almost there, princess.” One hand drifts down to my clit. He flicks a finger back and forth and then pinches it hard, simultaneously squeezing my throat a little tighter. My body winds up, like a rubber band stretching to its limit, ready to snap. 

“That’s my good girl.” He thrusts up with so much pressure I cry out, but I can’t think anymore because my orgasm explodes out of me with enough force to nearly buck me off his lap. 

That doesn’t happen, though, because he just hangs on tight, fucks me harder, and follows me over the cliff with a roar that bounces off the walls. Our bodies continue slapping together a few more times, moans escaping that sound guttural and raw, until we finally collapse. I’m weightless against him, breathing hard, trying to come back to earth after being transported somewhere otherworldly.

Elliott is breathing heavily too, the side of his face pressed against mine. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers.

I close my hands around his forearms in response, because actual words are too hard at the moment. 

He trails soft kisses along my jawline, keeping me pressed tight against him. 

I’m often uncomfortable in the aftermath of sex, anxious to clean up, go to sleep, do anything but revel in the intimacy. 

But not with Elliott.

With our bodies still connected, there’s nowhere else I want to be.

“You okay, princess?” he asks after a while.

“Mmhm.”

“You want to get into bed?”

“Not yet.” I squeeze his forearm tighter, holding on to the intimacy of the moment for as long as possible.

And he lets me.

He simply continues to kiss and cuddle me, keeping me close, whispering how beautiful I am. How sexy. How much he enjoyed what we just did. 

I agree with all of it, I just can’t seem to formulate any words. 

It isn’t until his stomach growls that I finally snap out of my post-coital haze.

“Hungry?” I ask softly.

“I can wait.”

“I’m hungry too,” I whisper. “I just wasn’t ready to move yet.”

“There’s no hurry, princess. We’re together and it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

For the first time in my life, I actually believe it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rage

Sleepovers with Luna quickly become one of my favorite things. She stays at my place for a few days, and when she runs out of clothes, we move to her place. I take some time to double-check her doors and windows, the security system, and the doorbell camera. Everything seems to be working perfectly, and hearing me say it seems to relax her, so we settle into a bit of a routine. 

Today I had to drive into L.A. for a job protecting a politician attending a movie premiere with his wife. It was almost a no-brainer. All I had to do was drive to their house, use their SUV to escort them to the event, sit with them during the movie, and drive them home. Done. 

It’s not even midnight, so I opt to head home instead of staying in L.A. I’d much rather sleep in Luna’s bed than that of a hotel. Well, I’d rather sleep next to Luna. At this point, I don’t even care about the bed as long as she’s beside me.

I’ve just gotten on the highway when a text pops up from Garth and the audio system in my car reads it to me.

GARTH: Hey, was wondering if you’re available to chat for a minute?

I dictate a response.

RAGE: I’m driving right now but you can call me if you want.

The phone rings and I answer. “Hey. What’s the plan?”

“Well, it looks like I have a total of ten fighters. We’ll do five fights, with yours being the main event and last on the schedule.”

“All right.”

“You’re fighting Bronco.”

“Sure, give me the toughest guy on the roster!”

He laughs. “You’ve always been the toughest guy on any roster—you getting soft now that there’s a woman in your life?”

I grunt, annoyed by the insinuation that having a girlfriend somehow makes me less of a man. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that about me. You have a problem with me having a girlfriend?”

“No, no, of course not. I’m just an ornery old fuck who likes to mess with you. I don’t mean anything by it.” 

“Because if you think I’m soft, we can get in the ring any time so I can show you otherwise.”

He laughs. “Whoa, not me. I’m way too old for that.”

“I bet you still have some fight in you.”

“I do. In fact, I’ll be fighting the middle bout. Against Wayne Booth.”

This time I laugh. “He’s, what, seventy?”

Garth chuckles. “Fifty-eight, but neither of us has any plans to get crazy. Just have a little fun and raise money for charity.”

“Sounds good.”

“So, Wednesday works for you?”

“Sure. Whatever you need. I’m bringing Luna along. She said something about getting together with Candy to work on donations.”

“Yeah, yeah. Great. Candy’s been a godsend.”

“She’s a little young for you, no?” I figure if he can dish it out, he should be able to take some ribbing in return.

“Eh, it’s not serious. She’s mostly a distraction. Her schedule keeps her busy and I’m not interested in getting married again or having kids, which I know she’ll want eventually, no matter what she says now.”

“Then why waste your time? Why not find someone your own age?”

“Come on—have you looked at her? She’s fucking gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want to hit that given the chance?”

“Not me,” I say. “She’s young even at my age. I don’t know what we’d talk about. Not to mention, I might break her in half if I touched her.”

He laughs again. “I’m not nearly as big as you, so I get that. Anyway, she’s a nice girl, but it’s not going anywhere. We’ll probably call it quits once the event is over.”

“I meant to tell you how sorry I am about Marissa.”

“It’s been a few years,” he says with a sigh. “It was hard at first but the last year was so hard on her, I was just glad she wasn’t suffering anymore. Cancer is a bitch.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

We’re quiet for a beat.

“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “You still hang around with your buddy from the Marines? What was his name?”

“Grim? Of course. He’s my brother. He and his girlfriend are probably going to drive down to L.A. with us. He’ll be my cornerman for the event.” 

“Oh, okay. I was going to ask who you were going to have with you. I figured it wouldn’t be the girlfriend.”

“Luna will be there but no, she’s not involved with or interested in fighting.”

“Candy’s actually pretty into it. She was excited when she found out you were going to join. She’s a big fan.” 

“Well, I hope I live up to her expectations,” I say lightly. 

“You know, she’s a good girl underneath the diva façade,” he says after a beat. “You at all interested?”

“Didn’t we already cover this?”

“So, you and Luna? You’re serious?”

We’re making a baby.

I think that’s pretty fucking serious.

Not that it’s any of his business.

This attitude is one of many reasons I left the life—it’s exhausting having to defend every decision you make from who you date to who your friends are.

“Yeah, it’s serious,” is all I say.

“How come?”

“How come?” I demand, getting annoyed again.

“I just mean, where’d you find her? I don’t picture her as your type.”

He was good to me once but he’s starting to annoy me. “What’s my type, exactly?”

“I don’t know—more like…”

“Candy?” I demand sarcastically. “Someone too young to make conversation with and not the kind of woman who plans to settle down?”

He undoubtedly knows I’m irritated now. 

“Aw, don’t be mad. I’m just curious.”

“You’re being a dick.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m a little envious. She seems like a great lady. Does she make you happy?”

“She does.”

“Then I guess that’s all that matters.”

“There’s lots of fish in the sea, Garth. You don’t have to pick the prettiest, youngest one you can find. It’s okay to find a woman close to your age, someone who’s lived a little.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess it just feels disloyal to Marissa. Like, dating Candy is easy. There’s no depth. But if I found someone my age, someone I might actually settle down with…I don’t know. What would Marissa say?”

“She would probably not want you to be alone. You were, what? Forty-eight when she passed? You could live another forty years. You think the woman who loved you would want you to be alone all that time?”

“I guess not. I just thought she was it. That there wouldn’t be anyone else but her. She wasn’t supposed to die. Now I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking for. So I date hot women there’s no chance I’ll fall in love with and run charity events to keep me busy because I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself every damn day.”

“Why not get into training or managing?” I suggest. “You could even become an agent. You know the world and the players. And they know you. It could be win-win, give you something to do while you figure out what you want for the rest of your life. You’re fifty, not eighty.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

We’re quiet for a little bit, and then he clears his throat. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you next week. If there’s time, let’s all have dinner.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll text you the details and put you up in a hotel.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s all part of the cost of running the event. I’ll see about getting a room for Grim too.”

“You really don’t have to, but if you do, send me the details.”

“Will do.”

“Take care.”

I disconnect and stare at the road ahead.

Traffic is light so I’m making good time, and I’m looking forward to getting naked with my woman.

My woman.

It’s been a long time since I considered anyone mine, but it makes sense. I knew we’d be good together from the moment I saw her, some sixth sense telling me she was the one. I just didn’t know how to make a move on a co-worker. Instead, I wasted months pining for her.

Now that we’re together, I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing or anyone I’d rather be doing it with.

We haven’t talked much about the whole baby-making thing since we started having sex but she was clear that it might take a while. Or not happen at all. That’s the whole reason we started this, but it doesn’t matter to me. Baby or no baby, I just want her. That was simply the catalyst that got us together. 

Not that I’m giving up on having a baby.

We’re only a month into trying.

Even women without issues sometimes take a lot longer than a month to get pregnant. I’m not going to worry about that unless and until we have to.

Meanwhile, this time we’re spending getting to know each other is perfect. I’m showing her she can trust me and she’s starting to open up. 

Since she has the alarm now, I can’t get in unless she opens the door, so I call her when I’m five minutes away. She’s a night owl so I’m not worried about waking her up, but it seems to take her a long time to answer the phone. 

“H-hello?” She sounds weird.

“Hey, it’s me,” I say quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just not feeling great.”

“I’ll be there in five. Can I stop to bring you anything?”

“You know, I think I’m just going to…sleep,” she says in a hoarse whisper. “This isn’t a great night for you to come over.”

I stare at the road ahead since she’s on speaker phone.

This isn’t like her.

Something isn’t right.

And I’ll be damned if I let her blow me off.

“I’ll be there in five,” I say.

Then I disconnect.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Luna

Fuckety-fuck.

I’m an absolute disaster, and of course, Rage couldn’t possibly listen to me and just go home. I hoped he would stay in Los Angeles tonight, but no. The big, sexy lug had to rush back here. To me. 

Well, he’s in for a big disappointment tonight. 

I stare at myself in the mirror and nearly shudder at the sight looking back at me. I am truly a mess right now. My hair is sticking up, my face is blotchy and red from crying, and I’m wearing the most hideous old sweatshirt. It actually has holes in it, and the collar is so worn it falls off one shoulder. That might be sexy under any other circumstances, but not the way I feel right now.

I manage to pull a comb through my hair and put it in a ponytail. I brush my teeth and splash some cold water on my face but that’s all the effort I’m going to put into how I look. I’m too tired and sad and frustrated to worry about how I look. 

Even if the world’s sexiest man is coming over expecting to get horizontal.

Ugh.

I pad back into the living room, where I’ve been camped out all night, and stare at the chaos on the coffee table and the floor. Tissues. Pain meds. The heating pad. One empty bag of chips on the floor and a half-eaten bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups on the table. I’m not even going to pretend I care about my diet or my weight tonight.

I just don’t have it in me.

And exactly five minutes after Rage hung up, I hear his knock on the door. I know it’s him not just because I have the security feed up on my phone, but also because he knocks with intent—he’s not going away until I open up. No matter what I say. So I pad over there, disarm the alarm, and turn the locks. 

I take a small, shuddery breath and then open the door.

He’s standing there like a veritable hunk in muscle-bound armor, and I blink, suddenly on the verge of tears yet again. 

“Don’t cry, princess—I’m here.”

Without waiting for me to say a word, he reaches out and engulfs me in his arms. 

And I let him.

I burrow into his shoulder, holding back a sob.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He backs us into the apartment and kicks off his shoes. Then he scoops me up and carries me to the couch. If he notices the mess, the half-empty soda, or the crumpled tissues, he doesn’t say a word. He merely sinks down, with me in his lap, and holds me tight.

“Will you talk to me, princess?”

I swallow.

“I…” Fuck, this is so stupid.

I’m ridiculous for being this emotional.

I was prepared to not get pregnant for a long time. Potentially a couple of years. But being mentally prepared and actually getting your period are two completely different things. Especially when getting a period for me can mean I’m in for weeks of hell. Weeks of pain and bleeding and discomfort. Weeks where I can’t make love with the man in my life.

“I got my period!” I blurt, bursting into tears.

To his credit, he seems to instantly understand.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He strokes my back and presses kisses on my temple. “We knew it wouldn’t happen right away. Come on. Don’t cry.”

“I got my period!” I repeat. “Which can sometimes last for weeks…even a few months. And that means we can’t⁠—”

“You think I’m going to be turned off by a little blood?” he asks incredulously. “That’s what showers are for. But anyway, even if you can’t, it’s okay. I can wait. It won’t last forever. This is how it works for you, right? You don’t get a period for months and then when you do, it lasts for a while. But then it goes away. Yes?”

I nod miserably.

“Okay. So, nothing is wrong, per se. You’re just disappointed.”

“And everything hurts,” I whisper. “The cramps are so bad this time.”

“What did you take?”

I give him the list of medications my doctors prescribe, and he nods. 

“Did you eat?”

I motion wildly to the mess of empty bags and wrappers. “Yeah. Kind of.”

“That’s not nutrition, honey. That’s junk.”

I start to protest but he cuts me off.

“And it’s totally fine to indulge in junk when you’re feeling like this. But only when it’s in addition to nutrition. You need some protein. Maybe some soup to soothe your stomach. What if I run to the diner on⁠—”

“No. I don’t want you to leave me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight. “Will you just hold me?”

“I will. As long as you need.”

For the first time since I felt the first twinges from the cramps, I start to relax.

Although, now that he mentioned soup, I would be down for the matzo ball soup from the diner he was about to mention. It’s really good. Total comfort food. But delicious. 

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, after we’ve sat there for at least ten minutes. “My periods really throw me for a loop. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I knew intellectually I wouldn’t get pregnant this fast but…”

“But you were hoping you would. I know. Me too.”

Him too?

Is that even possible?

I frown and tilt my face up to look at him. “You’re…disappointed?”

He frowns back. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I wasn’t excited about making a baby. Should I not be disappointed?”

“No. I mean, yes.” I sigh. “I mean, I didn’t think you’d be disappointed this soon, that’s all. I figured it would take six months or so before it started to sink in that I’m broken and that this might take forever.”

“You’re not broken,” he says gruffly, taking my chin between two fingers, forcing me to look at him. “Luna, you’re perfect just the way you are. This stopped being about a baby the first time I made love to you.”

I stare into his sapphire eyes wondering how I got so lucky. Not just in finding him but in a guy who isn’t afraid to admit his feelings. We started this relationship backwards, beginning with the quest for a baby and then slowly building something real. And he keeps showing up.

Even on a night like tonight when I didn’t want him to see me at my worst. 

It feels too soon to expose my own vulnerabilities, yet he never hesitates to show me his. 

“I’m going to be hormonal and cranky for a few days,” I whisper when the silence stretches out. “Maybe longer.”

“I’m going to be cranky and hungry for a few weeks,” he counters. “So we’ll be even.”

“Hungry?” I ask in confusion.

He nods. “I’m training for a fight now, so no alcohol, no sugar, lots of food I don’t love.”

“Meanwhile, I may be eating everything that’s not nailed down.”

“You do what you have to for your mental and physical health, honey. Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first time prepping for a fight. I’ll be fine.”

I curl back into his arms and close my eyes. “I’m sorry we can’t do anything tonight.”

I feel his sigh of exasperation. “You think that’s the only reason I came over? When you expressly asked me not to? I knew something was wrong, and I came because I care. This wasn’t a booty call.”

“I know but⁠—”

“There are no buts. I don’t know what I have to do to make you trust me. I’m in this for the long haul. I can’t see into the future, but I see you—beautiful and sweet and hard-working. Clawing your way out of the shit hand life dealt you and coming out the other side. Your fortitude is something to be proud of. And the way you deal with everything is remarkable. I think you’re remarkable.”

I truly don’t understand how I got so lucky. 

This guy is the whole damn package. So far, I haven’t found a single fault, which should have been scary. Instead, it’s just making me fall harder. Faster. Completely.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says when I can’t come up with an appropriate response. 

“Okay.” I’m about to climb off his lap when he does what he always does—stands up with me in his arms.

Like I weigh nothing.

He’s done it a dozen times or more at this point, and it never gets old. 

I might have to consider keeping him around—permanently.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rage

True to my word, I get cranky over the next few days. I don’t care about alcohol or sugar. I’m not big on sweets anyway. They’re nothing but an occasional treat for me, but I do like food. Steak and baked potatoes with all the fixings. Bacon on anything I can possibly put it on. Even when I eat a salad—with sunflower seeds and other healthy items—I drown it in ranch dressing and add avocado and all kinds of shit to make it taste good. 

Broiled fish and oil and vinegar don’t do shit for me.

Grilled veggies are boring as fuck. 

And of course, now that I can’t have one, all I can think about is a double cheeseburger with BBQ sauce and bacon. 

When I was fighting professionally, having to watch what I ate was just another part of the job. The paycheck. The lifestyle.

The problem is that it’s not my life anymore.

Don’t get it twisted—I stay in excellent shape. I work out hard five days a week, I run and lift and make sure I’m in top form. 

For a bodyguard.

Not for a professional fighter. 

And this guy I’m fighting? He’s hardcore.

Bronco is two years older than me and he’s the guy I beat the first year I won the championship. Then he moved up to the next weight class, so we didn’t fight again. But I hurt for days after that fight. And I was a lot younger then. I also know for a fact he was using illegal steroids to bulk up. He’d just started using synthetic steroids when we fought—he should have been the weight class below mine—and in following his career afterward, he kept getting bigger.

He’s got the shortest average fight time in all of the UFC—two minutes, fifteen seconds. Most of his wins are stoppages with quick knockouts. He’s something of a legend, so though I’m not afraid of him, I still need to be cautious.

And prepared. 

I turn to Eric and throw a few punches, bouncing on my toes as I try to get into the groove. It’s tough to spar with my friends because they’re tough but they’re not professional fighters. It’s different. I don’t want to hurt anyone, so I hold back and that’s not going to help me prep for the fight.

As much as it pains me, I’m going to have to find someone to train with who’s at another level than my colleagues. Someone who’ll give me a run for my money. I don’t think Garth is the right guy, but there are others who might. Like the two guys fighting in the weight class just below mine.

Toby Shaw and Darren Tyler are the ones fighting in that weight class, and tomorrow I’m going to see if I can get in touch with Toby. He lives in L.A. and might be willing to throw some punches with me. He probably needs someone to spar with as well, since he’s been retired for a little longer than I have. I’m kind of surprised he’s still as big as he is, but some guys are born that way while others have to take drugs to get there. 

First thing tomorrow, I’m reaching out to Garth to see if he’ll give me a way to reach Toby.

It’s time to get serious about training.

Everything else will have to wait.

We roll into L.A. just before lunch on Wednesday. Grim and Allora drove in her convertible while Luna and I rode in my SUV, but now we’re going to split up. The ladies are going to catch up with Candy, and Grim and I are meeting Toby at the gym he owns. Tonight is the press conference and we’re going to do some promotional videos at the gym that will highlight us in training. It’s supposed to be low-key but I don’t know what to expect. I met Toby a couple of times back in the day but we weren’t friends or anything.

“Hey, man.” He greets me when we walk in with his hand extended.

“Good to see you.” I shake his hand. “Thank you for the invite.”

“Absolutely. I lost my mom to cervical cancer so I’m happy to do something for the cause.”

I nod. “Cool.”

“All right, you can change back there.” He motions with his hand. “We’re keeping this totally chill. It’s just one guy with a camera, no press or anything. Obviously, this will be somewhat staged for the videos but we can certainly get a real workout in.”

“I’d like that.”

“Nothing too strenuous since we have to be at the presser by six-thirty.”

I nod.

Grim and I move to the back, and I get changed. He seems distracted, checking his phone, and I glance at him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods but doesn’t look up as he types something. “Just some stuff going on with Metal. He’s been out of control, according to Silver. Allora has been meaning to check on him, but she’s been busy with work too.” Allora’s a former model and actress who’s a successful photographer now and she travels a lot for her job.

I haven’t been doing much of anything, though, and I feel a twinge of guilt. I haven’t thought about Metal or the sex workers all week. I know the club has been diligent in being out on the street with the girls but they can’t do that indefinitely. It’s not my problem, but I’m a human being who doesn’t think those poor women deserve to be murdered.

“Is there anything we can do?” I ask, pulling on my fingerless gloves.

“You just think about the fight. I’m talking with Daniil now, getting updates.”

It annoys me that I can’t do both. 

Shadow Security isn’t just a job—I’m a part-owner—and the club isn’t just a group of people that don’t mean anything to us. Allora keeps her distance but that’s still part of her history, as well as the biggest part of her father’s life. We now have a relationship with the club and with Metal in particular, so I feel bad that I haven’t checked on him.

“Six weeks,” Grim says quietly, reading my mind like he usually does. “Then you’ll be done with this and back in the thick of things.”

I nod. “Right.” 

I walk back into the gym, and Toby’s waiting for me. He’s changed as well, ready to work out, and I feel a familiar surge of adrenaline. There was a time when I lived for this—the charge I got from using my fists. I have no doubt it was part of the way I dealt with the trauma of the things I saw in the military when I was in the Middle East, and all the lives that were lost, but that wasn’t all of it. I used to get off on how it felt to have that kind of control, both over myself and the people I fought with. 

These days, I get my kicks by going after bad guys.

Like whoever it is that’s hurting the club girls. 

Short-term, I’m putting that on the back burner. 

“You stayed in touch with Gargoyle all these years?” Toby asks me, referring to Garth.

I shrug. “Not really. We lost touch. You?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. When I walked away, my focus was on getting healthy and opening my gym. I just wondered if…” He stops talking and looks away. “Look, I don’t want to talk shit about anyone. This exhibition is for a good cause, so I’m not trying to be a dick. I just—there’s a lot of talk.”

“About Garth?”

“He’s had money problems since his wife died. And there’s talk about…women.”

“What kind of talk?”

“I dunno.” He looks uncomfortable suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you did.” I watch him. “Tell me.”

“You’re fighting Bronco. He and G used to be thick as thieves. And everything you’ve ever heard about him? Multiply it by ten.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He sets his jaw. “Just…be careful. I know you can handle yourself in a fight. I’m talking about everything else. The parties and the pressers and all of it. Bronco doesn’t play nice. Not when he was a pro, and not now.”

“Anything in particular I should look out for?”

“Be sure no one from his team gets near your towels, your water bottles, any of it.”

I frown, trying to read between the lines. “Seriously?”

“Look, maybe I’m being paranoid, but just…be careful. I’ve already said too much.”

“Then why do I feel like you’ve left out everything important?”

“No, I told you the important stuff.” His eyes meet mine, and there’s no doubt this conversation is over. 

“All right. Thanks.” I make a mental note to have Luna dig up everything there is to find on Bronco.

“You ready to do this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He grins and bumps his fist against mine.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Luna

Two days in L.A. were fun but I’m glad to be back home. I have a bunch of regular work to catch up on, and Rage wants me to do some digging on this Bronco guy that he’s going to fight. He and Grim have gone to meet with Metal and Silver to talk about what’s going on with the girls, so he drops me off and I head up to my apartment absently. 

I’m going to put in a load of laundry and then get in the shower. I’m still dealing with the period from hell but it’s not as bad as it was last week. At least now I’m not in constant pain. It will probably amp up again before it ends, but I can’t worry about that. 

I’ve been dealing with this since I was a teenager, so it’s just part of my life. I was starting to miss sharing physical intimacy with Rage, but he took care of that in the shower last night. 

I smile just thinking about it.

Then I see it.

Another package.

God fucking dammit.

Why can’t Roger give up already? I’ve got a new boyfriend and moved on. There’s nothing he can do to change my mind so what’s the point of this? Not to mention the cost of mailing me a bunch of random shit. Annoyed now, I toss the box on the counter and go into my bedroom to start gathering everything I want to wash.

There’s a tiny part of me that’s still worried.

What if it isn’t Roger? Should I call him and ask him what the hell is wrong with him or would that just open another can of worms? 

Taking out my phone, I pull up the security app and watch the feed from while we were gone.

There’s nothing.

Everything is perfectly normal. 

Mrs. C came by to knock once but then walked away—I’ll have to call her tomorrow—and there’s normal activity in the hallway during the day. But no one else came to my door, other than our normal mailman.

I can be super hormonal and emotional when I’m having a period. I can manage it at work for the most part, but the rest of the time I can be a mess.

I throw the clothes into the washer and then go back to my room to change the sheets. I spend a lot of time doing that these days. Obviously, Rage and I spend a lot of time in bed, so I have to keep up with it. There’s been a lot less since I got my period, but I need something to do other than overthink everything. 

I can’t shake this tiny, nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something is going on. I have no proof. There’s nothing shady on the security footage.

I don’t know why I feel this way.

Walking into the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of wine and then stand there for a while. I sip the wine and try to convince myself that this is just Roger being a jerk. Not someone from the past coming after me.

I wish Rage was here.

But do I want him to see me like this?

Not really.

Instead of spinning out of control, I opt to postpone my shower and sit down at the computer instead. That’s usually my happy place and Rage wanted me to do a background check on this Bronco guy, whose real name is Benjamin Guerin. He’s forty years old, twice divorced, with a fifteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage. 

He was arrested once for a domestic dispute, but the charges were dropped.

He’s got not one but two bankruptcies. The first after his first divorce and the second after his second. That makes sense, I guess. 

I delve a little deeper, but everything else paints a picture of a guy who’s struggling. He can’t seem to hold down a regular job or stay in a healthy relationship. It seems his only claim to fame was fighting, but now he’s just a guy that doesn’t have much going for him. On paper, I almost feel sorry for him.

Since he’s not that interesting, I decide to be a nosy woman and dig into both Candy’s and Garth’s lives. And there’s quite a bit more to dig into. Both of them have also filed bankruptcy, she’s been arrested multiple times though nothing seems to stick, and she’s been married and divorced. She’s only twenty-four but her past is a bit checkered. She dropped out of high school at seventeen and moved to L.A. to model. Got married at nineteen—to a man twenty-five years her senior—and divorced at twenty-one.

Garth was successful a decade ago but he seemed to have lost everything when his wife got sick. I can’t tell if they had health insurance or not, the common denominator here seems to be financial issues.

Despite a successful modeling career, Candy’s broke. There’s less than five hundred dollars in her checking account and if she has any kind of savings, I can’t find it. 

I’m still digging into Garth when I get a text from Allora.

ALLORA: Are you still awake?

LUNA: I am! What’s up?

My phone rings, and I answer with a chuckle. “That was fast.”

“I have news and I needed to tell someone.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“So, I don’t know if you know this, but I was an extra on Dusty Peaks a million years ago.”

“I think you mentioned it.”

“Well, when they green lit the reboot, and I found out Lacy was going to revive her character, I kept joking with her that I want to be an extra again. She’s been dating one of the directors and said she would make it happen. Well, she just called me and they want me to read for a tiny but recurring role!”

“Oh, my God!” I squeal. “Yay! I’m so happy for you.”

“Well, I didn’t get it yet, but Lacy said not to worry. She thinks I’m a shoo-in. Though that’s not usually a thing in Hollywood.”

“What does that mean?” I ask suddenly. “Are you moving to Atlanta?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’ll fly back and forth when they need me. It’s the barista at the local coffee shop so there will be a lot of repetitive lines like, ‘good morning, Joe, your usual?’ And they’ll probably film a few at a time so they can use them as needed.”

“That’s really cool,” I say with genuine excitement. “What does Grim say?”

“He’s happy, of course, though I think it makes him a little nervous. Me being in the spotlight, so to speak.”

“Why nervous?”

“You know how these guys are—overprotective and bossy. And with me being kidnapped and all that, he’s probably more protective than normal.”

“Yeah, overprotective and bossy is kind of hot, if I do say so myself.”

“I knew you’d understand.” She laughs. “I figured Grim and Rage are cut from the same cloth.”

I pause. “If I tell you something, can you keep it between us? It really has nothing to do with the guys.”

“Of course. Girlfriend talk is sacred.”

“I’m worried that I’m having some…mental health issues.”

“What does that mean?”

Slowly, I spell it all out. 

The knocks on the door.

The packages.

My bank account and credit cards being hacked.

The lack of concrete evidence that anything beyond bad luck is going on.

“Do you think this constant worry is related to the PMOS?”

“It could be. It doesn’t cause mental health issues, but women with the disease are three to eight times more likely to develop anxiety and depression. Hormone imbalances can impact mood and brain function. In addition, insulin resistance, which I definitely have, can lead to metabolic issues and inflammation, which are known to play a role in mental health as well.”

“Why is this a secret?” she asks carefully. “Wouldn’t you want to talk with Elliott about this? Isn’t that what being in a relationship is?”

“I feel…foolish,” I admit. “When I talked to him about it before, he was kind, and he basically said that he would have a chat with Roger if I needed him to, but it made me feel like I can’t handle my own life. My own issues. Like, I have a boyfriend now, so I’m nothing but a helpless little woman.”

“Ugh.” Allora makes a frustrated sound. 

“I’m going to talk to my doctor about it, but in the meantime, I feel like I’m going crazy, you know?”

“Is Elliott coming over later?”

“Yeah. After they meet with your dad and Metal.”

“You know, it’s not the worst thing in the world to lean on the man in your life. I mean, you don’t have to tell him you’re freaking out, but it’s okay to say, ‘hey, I don’t feel like myself right now—please be patient with me.’ Landon and I went through a lot of that in the aftermath of my kidnapping.”

“Yeah, but you had a solid reason. I’m just a fucked-up mess.”

“You have a disease,” she says softly. “It’s not the same.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have rained on your parade.”

“Oh, no biggie. I may not get the part, so it might be moot anyway.”

“When do you try out or whatever?”

“Landon and I are flying to Atlanta next week. He’ll do the security thing, and I’ll read for the part.”

“You’d better call me the second you know!”

“Believe me, I’ll be shouting it from the rooftops.”

I laugh. “I’ll bet.”

“And Luna—for real. Lean on Elliott. If having him sleep over makes you feel safe, then ask him to sleep over. If you feel better when you’re together, ask him for that attention. This should be the honeymoon period of your relationship. It’s okay to ask for what you need.”

“I’m not good at that,” I whisper. “Especially not with guys. I’m too used to them saying no.”

“Elliott isn’t going to say no. Not a chance in hell.”

The good news is that I think she’s right. 

The bad news is that I might be too afraid to find out.

Chapter Thirty

Rage

The next week is busy. Between trips to L.A. to work out with Toby, my regular tasks at Shadow Security, and spending time with Metal and the club, I feel like I’m neglecting Luna. She hasn’t said anything—she knows I’m busy and she’s had a lot on her plate at work too—but I feel bad. She hasn’t been herself lately, but I can’t put my finger on what’s going on with her.

I’m sure part of it is hormones and everything to do with her PMOS.

But there’s a tiny part of me that feels like there’s something else. Something she either doesn’t want to share or…can’t. The thing is, I can’t imagine what it could be. According to her, I know all her secrets now, so there shouldn’t be anything she’s keeping from me that would impact her on a daily level.

Does it have something to do with Roger sending her those stupid packages? She told me she didn’t want me to get involved and as long as he’s only sending her shit like black roses, I want to respect her wishes. 

Her anxiety also might be pregnancy-related and that makes more sense. She’s sensitive about the topic. Or rather, it often feels like she’s defensive about it. She’s always quick to point out how long it could take, or that it might not happen at all, and from where I’m sitting, that’s some sort of self-defense mechanism for her own sanity. 

Honestly, I’ve never thought about infertility. I always assumed that when and if the time came, my partner would get pregnant. Having a partner who may not be able to get pregnant or carry a child to term isn’t something I ever considered. 

When I jumped into this, I somewhat naively assumed we’d hit pay dirt. I don’t ever think in terms of failure. It’s not part of my DNA. But seeing Luna’s reaction when she got her period was jarring for me. Not because I’m upset with her or anything like that, but because reality hit a little closer to home than I’m comfortable with.

I’m a take charge kind of guy—if there’s a problem, I figure out how to solve it. 

That’s simply not possible in this case. There are options, obviously. We have great insurance through Shadow Security, so we could see every specialist in the country if we wanted to, but I don’t think Luna wants to go through that. Not yet. And I don’t want her to. I’ve done some reading and having to give herself injections, and live life on a schedule of meds and procedures sounds awful. 

My goal is to just be there for her.

Except I haven’t been.

Training, as always, is somewhat all-encompassing. Driving back and forth to L.A. affords me a better facility and opportunity to train, but it takes a lot of time. And I don’t want to stay up there because not only would it mean being away from Luna even more, it also makes it more difficult for me to stay on top of my responsibilities at work. Or check on Metal. Daniil, Grim, and I have started an unofficial schedule of keeping an eye on him when he’s out with the girls but it’s a thankless job.

He’s doing all the stereotypical things you would expect a guy that’s grieving to do—drinking, smoking, and getting into fights. He’s not doing the girls any favors when he scares away their customers, and they’ve gently complained to Silver. 

There’s no good solution and even though technically this isn’t our responsibility, at the end of the day, he’s our friend. Metal was there when Allora was taken and didn’t hesitate to put himself in danger to get her back. Or to distribute street justice when we caught the guy.

We owe him one. 

And it’s not like he chose for his girlfriend to be murdered. 

We’re also fairly certain we’re right about that because since the club took over protection, there hasn’t been another incident. The only question now is how long they can keep it up. 

My thoughts are a little chaotic while I’m out on my morning run. I normally run five miles three times a week, and that won’t change while I’m training for the fight. I have to have endurance in addition to fighting skills, which comes into play whether I’m in an actual UFC-style fight or my job as a bodyguard. 

Having a dozen things on my mind makes the run go faster and by the time I’m back at headquarters and in the shower, I’m a little calmer. I’m driving up to L.A. tonight and I’m going to try to convince Luna to come with me. She’s taken on managing some details for Candy, and it seems like she’s enjoying being able to contribute. And maybe, if we’re together in the evening with no plans, we can talk about whatever’s bothering her.

“I found out something interesting about Candy,” she tells me when we’re on our way to L.A. 

“Oh?” I glance over at her.

“She’s broke,” she says. “And I don’t mean, like, she has a lot of debt and whatever, even though that’s true, but she has barely anything in her checking account and nothing coming in. I don’t know how she’ll pay her bills this month.”

“Maybe Garth is helping her,” I suggest.

“He doesn’t have money either,” she says. “They’re both broke as fuck. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless they’re taking money from the charity to live on. I can’t find an account for that, though.”

“It’s probably in someone else’s name,” I say reasonably.

“Sure, but it’s supposed to be a special account, specifically for nonprofit events and organizations. I also couldn’t find any permits or paperwork that’s been filed in the City of Los Angeles for the event either.”

I look over at her again. “Honey, I know doing the right thing is part of who you are, but maybe we let them handle the logistics and we just focus on our part.”

“What if he runs this event and then disappears with the money?” she demands. “It’s supposed to be for cancer.”

“If he does something like that, then we would get involved. But he hasn’t done anything wrong yet. What are you really looking for?”

She’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t know. Something just feels…off.”

I reach across the console for her hand. “You’ve been going through a lot lately. And that’s not meant to sound condescending, just⁠—”

“But it does.” Her voice is flat and I can see her lips are pursed in annoyance.

That’s never good. The last thing I want to do is upset her even more. 

So, I back pedal a little.

“You asked me to be patient with you,” I say carefully, “because you’ve been feeling hormonal and dealing with things that I don’t completely understand. I’m trying to respect that by offering a differing perspective. That’s all. If you don’t want me to push back, then I won’t.”

The silence in the car practically crackles between us. 

I have no doubt she’s irritated, but I also know her well enough at this point to know she’s listening. Thinking with that big, beautiful brain of hers. 

Finally, she lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know you’re right. But didn’t you ever feel something in your gut?”

I chuckle. “All the fucking time. And it’s kept me alive more than once. But I’ve also been wrong a few times as well. Our guts work as a warning, but it’s not factual. Sometimes we’re wrong. It’s that simple. I’m not even saying you’re wrong here. All I’m saying is, we have demanding jobs, as well as the situation with your physical and mental health, so if we have to prioritize something, I think it should be those, instead of something that doesn’t truly impact us. 

“To be honest, between training and worrying about Metal, I don’t really give a damn what Garth and Candy are up to. If they steal all the money, and I find out about it, I’m going to kick his ass because the charity component is the only reason I agreed to this. But unless and until that happens, I’d rather think about issues that are more important.”

Her fingers are still laced with mine, and I feel the tension start to drain out of her.

“You’re right. I guess the hacker in me can’t help it. Once I get hold of something, I’m like a dog with a bone, determined to find all the answers. And not being able to find out who hacked my bank account and credit card has really pissed me off. The thing is, I would have to do some really illegal shit to get the information, and we both know how that worked out for me before.”

I chuckle. “Right. So let’s not do anything to get either of us arrested, okay? I love the fact that you’re a bit of a princess, and that you’re my princess, but princesses typically don’t do well in prison.”

She laughs. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’ll let this go. Although, I do look pretty good in orange.”

“What about me?” I tease. “How do I look in orange?”

“Not as good as you look naked.”

“Ditto.”

We chuckle together and she doesn’t seem annoyed anymore. 

“What would you think about planning a little get-away for a couple of days right after the fight? Maybe drive up to Santa Barbara, get a place on the beach, and spend two days doing nothing but eating and making love.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“Why don’t you find a place and make a reservation for the Sunday through Wednesday after the fight? We’ll leave L.A. Sunday morning and drive home Wednesday afternoon.”

“I can do that.” She nods. “Do we have a budget?”

“No?” I glance at her again. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t spend ten grand a night or anything, but I can afford a nice resort for three days.”

“I can pay half,” she says firmly. 

“This is my treat,” I say, shaking my head. “Doing something nice for you after you putting up with my fucked-up schedule for six weeks.”

She only hesitates a few seconds. “I don’t put up with anything—you’re fine. But if you’d like to take me away, I won’t say no. It’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of vacation.”

“Same for me.”

“Then I guess we have a plan.”

“I’ll give you my credit card so you can make the reservation.”

“Okay.” She’s already on her phone. “Ooohhh…there’s a place on the water.” She starts talking about soaking bathtubs, gourmet dining, and a bunch of other amenities.

Exactly what I wanted her to be focused on.

I’d like to think my job as her partner is to talk her off the ledge when she needs it, support her when I can’t, and distract her when it’s appropriate. 

Hopefully, I’ve made the right choice.

Chapter Thirty-One

Luna

After my talk with Rage on the way to L.A., I start feeling foolish all over again. Stress and anxiety can mess with your brain, and that doesn’t mean I’m going crazy. I did get a prescription for some anti-anxiety meds to help me rest when I’m alone, but otherwise, I’ve thrown myself into work.

Candy asked me to work on the silent auction. She’s busy collecting donations, and I need to find the best way to set up the auction itself, as well as the aesthetic. People will be able to fill in their names, phone numbers, and the amount they want to bid on sheets of paper set in front of each donation.

I decided we’d have tables set up along the perimeter of the ballroom the event will be in, with photos and whatever details are necessary. There are some high-priced items, like luxury vacations, medium donations like signed sports memorabilia, and less expensive things like gift certificates to popular restaurants and spas. She’s done a great job procuring things, and it’s been nice to lose myself in something beyond my day job.

Things at Shadow Security are actually kind of slow, despite the huge commission to run security for Dusty Peaks. That’s going to bring in a lot of money, and I’ve been running background checks on everyone involved in the project, but beyond that, there isn’t a lot to do. 

Shooting just started last week, and Allora is there now to audition.

It’s going to be incredible fun if she gets a part. I know Lacy too, who’s already got a part, but Allora and I are closer. We’ve become something I would venture to call best friends, even though it’s only been a few months. She doesn’t have many close girlfriends either, just Lacy and a couple of others, and all of them live and work far from her home in Oceanside. Which means we’ve spent a lot of time together. 

I’m so excited for her. Not because she aspires to be a big TV or movie star—that’s not what she wants—but because it’s part of her moving past what happened to her. Being kidnapped. Raped. Almost sex trafficked. It was incredibly traumatic, and she needed something special to bring back a sense of normalcy.

I’m so lost in thought, I’m not paying much attention as Candy and I explore the event space. I’ve got a tape measure, and I’m trying to figure out how many eight-foot tables we’ll need for the auction items. Candy is off with the event planner for the location, so I’m almost on top of them when I hear them whispering in the hallway.

“…not acceptable!” That’s the event planner’s voice.

“I told you the money will be there Friday.”

“It better be. Otherwise, I’m going to have to let the spot go.”

“Don’t do that. I told you, Garth has been a little cagey about finances, but we had a nice influx of cash after the press conference. He’s got the money wrapped up in money market accounts and other investments, so we can make as much as possible for the charity. That’s all.”

“Candy, I’ve extended this as long as I possibly can. But if you don’t come up with the deposit by Friday, I’ll have no choice but to release the reservation.”

“I know, okay? I’ll get you the damn money!” Candy stalks around the corner in the opposite direction, and I quickly duck down another hallway.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

But still, I feel the urge to find out what’s going on. To dig deeper and get answers.

That’s what got you into trouble ten years ago, I remind myself firmly.

You’ve come a long way since then—don’t borrow trouble.

As much as it pains me, I push it out of my mind and go back to my list.

“There you are.” Candy comes around the corner with a bright smile, not so much as a hint that she’s in danger of losing the event space.

“I think we’re going to need twenty tables,” I tell her, going over my notes. 

She nods, listening intently. “Great job. The venue will provide whatever tables we need for no extra charge, but someone will need to be here during set-up so they’ll know that those particular tables aren’t for dinner, but for the auction.”

“I’ll be here,” I say. “No worries.”

“Great.” She glances at her watch. “Listen, I have a meeting with the company donating the gift bags. Will you be okay on your own here?”

“Of course. I have Elliott’s SUV.”

She nods. “Great. See you later.”

She hurries off in the opposite direction, and I finish making notes about set-up. We’re going to need display materials as well. Sign holders and stands, and some way to display things like football and hockey jerseys. The local professional hockey team, the L.A. Phantoms, has generously offered a few items, including signed jerseys and pucks, and I don’t want to just lay them on the table.

We also have to think about security. Even rich people can be dishonest, and it would be too easy to pick up a signed puck while everyone is eating and slip it into a purse or bag. I’m going to mention this to Elliott—I’m sure he’ll have ideas. But it’ll be costly to mount the jersey in a frame, so I have to consider more affordable options. I don’t care what anyone says, money is a problem for the event. 

I walk outside and head to Elliott’s SUV. As I get in, I see Candy standing on the street talking to someone. It’s a man, probably in his thirties, and they look…cozy. 

Oh, yikes.

The guy leans over to kiss her and she wraps her arms around his neck.

Oops.

I definitely wasn’t supposed to see that, so I slide down in the seat, just peering over the dash and watching him palm her ass. Then she gets in her Mercedes and speeds off, leaving the guy on the street.

He looks familiar but I can’t place him.

One of the fighters?

Dammit.

Why did I have to see this?

I don’t care.

I shouldn’t care.

But I do.

With a frustrated sigh, I put the key in the ignition and start it up. I have to pick up Elliott in an hour anyway, so I might as well head that way and watch him fight. Or practice. Or whatever it’s called. Toby supposedly has some jiu-jitsu experts on site today, giving both him and Elliott a lesson or something? I don’t understand how it all works but Elliott is focused and even leaner than before. 

He’s dropped ten pounds since he started and if his body was beautiful before, it’s spectacular now. His abs are even more defined and those beautiful oblique muscles practically call my name every time I see him without a shirt on. Last night, I licked them for a long time before moving on to licking other things. 

I’m still thinking about that when I arrive at Toby’s gym and walk inside. It’s hot and stuffy—like air conditioning would somehow make them less manly—and I sink into a chair by the wall.

Elliott is on a mat with a guy I don’t recognize, and they’re rolling around. The other guy taps out and he and Elliott exchange words. Then they do the same move again, and this time Elliott taps out. It’s fascinating to watch them practice individual moves, especially since I don’t understand much at all.

“You must be Elliott’s girlfriend.” A man sinks down next to me, and I realize it’s the man Candy was kissing. 

I’m so startled I nearly drop my purse.

“Sorry—didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Neil, Toby’s agent.”

“Hi.” I blink, staring at him. “We, uh, met last time we were here.”

“Luna, right?” He’s got one of those million-dollar Hollywood smiles, with teeth that are perfectly straight. 

“Yes. Hi. Nice to meet you.” 

I manage to put a polite smile on my face. “How long have you been Toby’s agent?”

“A couple of years. I used to fight, but I had some injuries that ended my career.”

“It can be dangerous,” I acknowledge.

“Agreed. That’s why I opted to retire while I was still healthy and move to a more lucrative profession. I handle quite a few athletes.”

“Oh, interesting.” I’m still smiling, but all I can think about is that kiss.

“Will you be at the exhibition matches?” I ask politely.

“Of course.” He nods. “I’ve procured quite a few donations for Candy and Garth.”

“How, uh, do you know them?” 

“Candy and I used to date. We grew apart. It happens. She can be a handful sometimes. Like a lot of women, you know?” He winks like it’s something I should know merely by virtue of being a woman. “But we ran into each other again last year and it’s obvious she’s changed. We’ve slowly been rebuilding a…friendship.”

I nod, trying not to read between lines I wasn’t supposed to see. “Isn’t she dating Garth?” I don’t know if my question is as innocent as I try to make it, since his eyes narrow slightly.

“I think that relationship will end after the event,” he says with a shrug.

“Oh.” What am I supposed to say to that?

Luckily, Elliott uses that moment to come over and drop a kiss on my lips.

“Hey, honey. How was your day?”

I smile up at him. “Busy! Looks like yours was productive.”

He nods. “It was.” He glances at Neil. “How’s it going, Neil?”

“Good to see you, Rage.” Neil nods and then excuses himself.

“What was that?” I ask curiously.

Rage watches him go. “He wasn’t hitting on you, was he?”

I laugh. “Not that I could tell but even if he was, I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Yeah? How come?”

I lower my voice conspiratorially. “Because my boyfriend is so much hotter than him.”

He chuckles then kisses me again. “Let me jump in the shower and then we’ll get out of here.”

“I’ll be here.”

I watch him walk into the back and grin at the sight of his ass. And broad shoulders. Pretty much all of him. 

Mine.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rage

The weeks leading up to the fight are a blur. Luna’s period finally ended, and she seems a lot less anxious. I’m glad she’s feeling better because I’ve been mostly focused on the fight. Once I get in the zone, I’m pretty single-minded so I hope she isn’t too frustrated with me. Our sex life has been off the charts, which has been amazing, but I’m looking forward to spending some quality alone time with her that has nothing to do with sex as soon as this is over.

Tonight is the dinner and auction, so Luna’s already at the venue helping Candy with all the last-minute details. She isn’t even coming back to the hotel to get ready—she brought her things with her—so I’m going to meet her there. Grim and Metal are here, and we’re going to ride over together.

I brought Metal on as unofficial security, an extra set of eyes both before and during the fight. Grim is my cornerman, the one who’ll be watching everything that goes on in the cage, making sure I have what I need during the fight, and Metal will be there too. 

I don’t really need both of them, but it seems to give me credibility while simultaneously giving Metal something to focus on other than his grief. And honestly, he doesn’t come across as physically intimidating, but he’s as tough as they come. I’ve seen him in the gym a few times and he’s strong as fuck, especially for someone who’s six feet tall and barely a buck sixty.

“We ready for this?” Grim asks when we meet in the lobby. 

“I guess.” I shrug.

“Why are you so grumpy?” Grim asks me. “You used to be psyched on fight days.”

“The last few weeks have just shown me that I left this life for a reason,” I say. “And I have other priorities. I should be focused on the job in Atlanta, not…” I wave my hand around even though I’m not referring to anything specific in the room. “…all of this.”

“One more day and it’s over,” Metal says pragmatically. “You might as well enjoy it. You know, you get to beat the shit out of someone without holding back—and you won’t get in trouble.”

I chuckle.

He has a point.

“I guess there’s that.”

We’ve started to see glimpses of the old Metal—the caring, gentle man who loved and doted on his pregnant girlfriend—and I’m hopeful he’s beginning to work through his grief. I don’t know that there’s a timeline, but the never-ending quest to find out what happened can’t be healthy. It was actually Daniil’s idea to bring him onto my team, so to speak, and I’m glad I did. Grim will be focused on whether or not I’m doing okay in the fight, making sure I have water and whatnot, so it’ll be up to Metal to keep his eyes on Bronco and his team.

By the time we get to the auction gala, I’m hungry and annoyed. And the whole room is basically a smorgasbord. There’s even a fucking chocolate fountain, and my stomach growls as I watch Metal walk in that direction.

“Traitor,” I mutter.

Grim actually laughs. “Sorry?”

“You suck.”

“It’s one day. Tomorrow night, you can have all the chocolate you want.”

“It’s not the chocolate that’s calling my name,” I grumble. “That shrimp over there looks incredible.”

“You can have shrimp.”

“Not tonight.” I shake my head. “I can’t eat anything until weigh-in tomorrow.”

He rolls his eyes. “Rules are dumb.”

Now I laugh. He’s been saying that about weigh-in since the first time I had to do it. 

“You can eat,” I say, shrugging.

“Not in front of you.” He shakes his head. “I feel like one of us has to show some solidarity.”

And this is why he’s my brother. 

“Let’s go look at the auction items,” I say. “Luna worked hard on this aspect of the event, and maybe there’s something we can throw our money at.”

“Yeah, Allora hates that she couldn’t be here, so maybe I’ll find something for her. A spa experience or something.”

“How’s she enjoying being back in the acting world?”

“Short-term, it’s been exciting. She’s not looking to make this a thing, though. She doesn’t want to move to Atlanta, although I guess we’d make it work if there was enough money on the line. I don’t think there is for a tiny part like hers, though.”

“Would you really move to Atlanta?”

He nods. “If she needed to be there for work? Absolutely. Why not? I’d help run security on set and she’d be doing her thing. If it went on for years and years, we might have to think about what that means, but for now, I want her to follow her dreams.”

“It’s been nice seeing her get past what happened.”

“She’s worked hard in therapy. And so have I.”

“You’re still going?” I ask in surprise.

He shrugs. “Our relationship is more important than my ego. The truth is, the shit we saw in the Middle East doesn’t just go away because we will it. It actually takes work and soul-searching. And I want to be the man she deserves. Especially once we start having kids.”

“Kids…plural?”

“She’s only twenty-eight. We have time. And if she wants two or three, I’m okay with it.”

Two or three.

That seems like an astronomical number.

“I’ve only put thought into having one,” I admit. “Is that dumb? Like, I never even considered the idea of two.”

“Luna’s older and her fertility issues make everything different. You guys may only be able to have the one. If that.”

I wince.

“Don’t ever say that in front of her,” I caution.

He lifts one brow. “I’m not an idiot. Of course I wouldn’t say that to her. But you need to be realistic. And just like you’ve avoided thinking about multiple children, have you also avoided thinking that it might not happen at all?”

I scowl. “Damn, bro, what’s up with the negativity?”

“I’m talking about how you help her deal with that kind of disappointment.”

Honestly, I haven’t given it a lot of thought. I know it’s possible, but I never dwell on the negative if I can help it, I merely focus on whatever parts of said situation I can control. 

“We can adopt,” I say quietly. “Get a donor egg. A surrogate. There are options for all those scenarios.”

“That’s the most important thing—making sure she understands the options and is okay with them. Even if they’re not her first choice.”

“It’s only been two months,” I say. “Her doctor told her not to start overthinking things until we’ve been trying at least a year.”

“And you’re good with that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you love her?”

A year ago, I would have done everything in my power to avoid answering that question, regardless of the woman in my life.

With Luna, I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I do. She’s…everything.” It feels weird saying something like that out loud but Grim just smiles. Like he gets it.

“It’s kind of cool when you feel that way, right?” His eyes meet mine and we don’t have to say anything else. We’ve always understood each other, and this is no different.

“Hey, look at this.” He switches gears so fast it takes me a moment to catch up. “A Girls’ Trip package. Five days and four nights at this place in San Diego. Spa treatments, wellness activities, and day trips that include wine tasting. The girls would love this.”

We grin at each other and then speak at the same time—“Christmas.”

Then we laugh.

“You put your bid down now,” he suggests. “Then, when you get busy, I’ll keep an eye on it and make sure we put in the winning bid. You have a number you absolutely won’t go over?”

I shrug. “I mean, I’m not paying a hundred grand for a spa weekend—we can just pay for it at that point, but no. Any reasonable number, go for it.” I write my name and a hefty bid amount, along with my email and phone number. 

“Oh, man.” Grim makes a face. “Look at this—a driving experience with Limbo Jones.” Limbo is currently one of the top NASCAR drivers. He has a private track in Santa Fe where he trains and from what I can see, this package allows the winner to not just spend a weekend training with him but learning the ropes and getting behind the wheel.

He puts his name down immediately.

“Aren’t you supposed to be saving for a house?” I tease.

“Shut the fuck up.” His bid is well over the suggested starting price, but just like fighting is my thing, racing is his. He doesn’t do much of it anymore either so something like this would be special. 

“I get this feeling this is going to be an expensive weekend,” I groan, standing in front of a football autographed by Dan Marino. I grew up in South Florida and he was my football idol. 

Grudgingly, I write my name down.

Grim is walking around, bidding on pretty much everything, and I chuckle at his child-like excitement. 

What the hell, it’s all for a good cause. 

I’m trying to decide if dinner at Craig’s—an L.A. hotspot—is worth the price tag when I catch a glimpse of pink. My head snaps up and all I can do is stare.

My woman is coming toward me in a hot pink dress much like the one she wore on her fateful final date with Roger—but this one is meant for evening. It has rhinestones on the spaghetti straps and it’s short, ruffles dancing around her thighs.

She’s fucking perfect.

And fucking mine.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Luna

My entire body goes warm when I see the look on Elliott’s face. It says so many things at once. Things I never imagined a man like him would feel for a woman like me. But there’s no doubt about it as he watches me approach.

How much he likes my dress.

How badly he wants me.

How he feels about me.

It’s right there, written all over his handsome face as he drinks me in. 

He once casually mentioned he loves me in pink, so I bought a new dress specifically for him. For tonight. It was expensive, so I hope he doesn’t just rip it off of me the moment we get back to the hotel, but I also kind of hope he does.

I can’t help but smile as I approach him. 

He immediately snakes out an arm and yanks me against his chest.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he demands, lips close to my mouth.

“In the best possible way,” I tease.

“Don’t tempt me, woman.”

“Oh, I plan to tempt you all night,” I whisper solemnly.

Our eyes lock, and I can almost see the wheels turning as he tries to decide if there’s any place we can go where he can lift my dress and fuck me soundly.

“Patience,” I say softly, pressing my lips to his. “It will be worth the wait.”

Little does he know, I bought nipple clamps for tonight. He’s mentioned them a few times but we’ve been busy, and I think he’s been trying to work up to all the things he wants to do slowly. Like he might scare me away or something.

That’s not even possible, which is why I took the initiative.

“Come look at this,” I say, tugging him by the hand toward one of the auction items. “Is this something you’d want to do? You can say no, and I’ll go with my girlfriends.”

I look down and see it’s some kind of zoo experience—with baby fucking tigers. You’d actually get to play with tiger cubs. And I’m a cat man, so this would be incredible.

“Uh, have we talked about how much I love cats?”

She laughs. “You’ve mentioned it but I wasn’t sure. So, yes? I should try to win it?”

“Fuck yeah. And it looks like it’s for four people, so you can still bring two of your friends.”

“You think Grim and Allora would want to go?”

“Allora yes. Grim? Maybe. He tolerates Cleo, but he’s more a dog guy.” Cleo is Allora’s cat.

“I think Courtney would love this.”

We walk around discussing different items and I make sure to steer her clear of the spa experience so she doesn’t see my name on it.

“Luna!” Candy’s voice is low hiss behind us. “Where’s the puck signed by Gretzky?”

I glance at her with a frown. “Right over there.” I point. “With the season ticket package for the Phantoms.”

Candy’s step falters and she lets out a sigh, closing her eyes. “Right. Okay. Sorry. I’m a little stressed.”

“Why? Everything is going beautifully.”

“You have no idea the pressure I’m under.” Her jaw tightens. “Garth wanted everything to be first-class, but he doesn’t realize how expensive it is to run that kind of event. You have to spend money to make money and—” She cuts off abruptly. “Anyway, I just need to make sure we bring in as much as possible or we’ll only be able to cover expenses instead of making a hefty donation to the charity.” With that, she turns on her heels and stalks in the opposite direction.

“What was that about?” Rage asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” I’m actually a little mystified because I haven’t seen Candy behave this way before. Normally, she’s cool, calm, and collected. “Maybe I should go talk to her, calm her down.”

“Sure. Go do your thing.” He kisses me. “I’ll be here not eating all the amazing food.”

“Don’t worry,” I purr, pressing myself against him. “I have something that’s virtually calorie-free for you to eat.”

I watch his blue eyes turn to liquid fire, and he yanks me against him again. “You really are trying to kill me tonight.”

“The best death imaginable.” I kiss him and then follow in the direction Candy went. It’s been hard to get a handle on her because she goes from complete diva to hard-working and focused to cheating on her boyfriend to worried about money.

Elliott didn’t seem interested or concerned about the fact that I saw her kissing another man and I guess he has a point—after tomorrow, we don’t ever have to see any of them again. It’s not like they’re our friends. 

Still, I’m invested in the event so if there’s anything I can do to make things go smoothly, I’d like to try. Even if it means sucking it up with Candy.

There’s a small office not far from the ballroom that we’ve been using as a staging area, and I see light coming from a crack in the door. I’m just about to push it open when I hear voices. Candy’s. And a man.

“…ess protection.”

I freeze.

“What?” Candy sounds confused.

“You have to trust me and do what I say. I’ve been working on this for a year.” This is Garth’s voice. 

“What does that have to do with the event?”

A laugh that sounds menacing and still, I can’t place the voice because it’s so low. “Nothing and everything. She cost me everything when she hacked my online business. Now I want to repay the favor. Can you just keep me apprised of what she’s doing and where she’s going? I’ve been working on her for months and fucking Rage had to get involved and ruin it. But now I have a plan. I just need two more days.”

I clamp a hand over my mouth and slowly start to back away.

It’s impossible to know definitively if they’re talking about me, but who else is in witness protection that’s involved with Rage? We don’t have any clients that are in WITSEC, so that leaves me.

Which means I was right all along.

All those weird things that have happened.

Everything that made my gut scream—someone has found me. I’m not a hundred percent sure but I will be. I make my way back to the main room but then skirt around the edges until I get to a small anteroom. And I call the one person who, even if he doesn’t believe me, will at least try to help.

It’s not that I don’t trust Elliott—I do. But I only heard part of a fragmented conversation, and I don’t want to distract him if it’s nothing. Once I have proof, then I’ll tell him. For now, I have to figure out if this was about me. Unfortunately, without access to my laptop and a secure internet connection, I can’t do it. Besides, it’s better if someone else takes the lead. 

“Luna.” Daniil answers on the first ring even though it’s a Friday night and he’s supposed to be home, relaxing with his family. “Everything okay?”

“I need a favor,” I say in what probably sounds like a breathy voice but it’s actually me trying not to hyperventilate. 

“Of course.” 

“Back in Limaj, the Royal Protectors…you have a cyber expert on that team, right?” Daniil is technically one of them even though he’s no longer actively in the role.

“Jonas. Yes.”

“I know it’s the middle of the night in Limaj, and this is a big ask, but I need you to send him the footage from the security cameras in my apartment. I need him to go through them to determine whether or not the feed has been hacked and/or altered. It’s very important.”

“All right. Do you want him to discuss his findings with me or to call you directly?”

“He can call or text me directly. Please.”

“Are you all right, Luna?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m fine. I’m with Rage and Grim. I’m not worried about my safety. Yet.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I will. After Jonas looks at the footage.”

“It may take him a while. I don’t know what the duty roster is back home.”

“Please, tell him it’s important.”

“I will. Hang tight.”

He disconnects, and I stand there for a few seconds, breathing in and out. Slowly. Attempting not to freak right the fuck out. 

I only heard part of that conversation but what else could “ness protection” mean other than witness protection? And who else in this room is in the program? Obviously, there could be any number of people, but that’s statistically unlikely. I’m not sure about the online business stuff but I’m starting to believe things are not what they seem with Garth.

I know I’m not crazy. 

Hormones don’t make you have huge memory lapses. They don’t make you hallucinate sounds. They don’t make you lose your mind. I know that’s a generalization and there aren’t a lot of facts to back up these things, but I know myself. I’ve been dealing with PMOS all of my adult life—and I’m not crazy. Emotional, yes. Out of my mind? No.

And now I’m going to prove it. Or rather, Jonas is hopefully going to prove it so no one can say I went looking for issues and found them. So no one can blame this shit on my hormones. Or any other thing. I don’t even know exactly what I’m looking for. I know what I heard Garth say but I can’t jump to conclusions. 

If someone from my past has found me, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but most likely I’m going to have to run and leave my entire life behind. Leave Elliott behind. 

Unless…would he go with me?

I close my eyes and pull in a shaky breath.

I can’t think about that. Not until I know for sure. 

Then I may have to make decisions that will change everything. 

And not in a good way.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Rage 

This morning is the weigh-in, and I’m both annoyed and excited about it.

Annoyed because it’s all about shit talking and posturing—essentially a dick measuring contest with no purpose because nothing matters except what happens during the fight. Also, this isn’t even a sanctioned fight, so there’s no point to any of the extras but Garth feels strongly about doing things “the right way.” 

On the flip side, I’m excited because the fight is tonight and I’m looking forward to knocking the snot out of Guerin and then getting the fuck out of here. He’s been a pain in my ass the entire time leading up to the event. Instead of having fun with it, he’s been running his mouth like there’s some kind of championship or actual money on the line. I’ve rolled my eyes so many times, I’m afraid they’re going to come out the other side of my head.

“Should I go sit with the others?” Luna asks me when we arrive at the venue.

“No.” I shake my head. “I want you at my side through all of this, except when I’m actually in the cage. Even then, I’d like you to sit in the front row where I can see you.”

“Okay.” She nods but I can tell she’s distracted. There’s been something on her mind but when I tried to pry it out of her last night, she shifted gears and seduced me. Not that it took much to make that happen—I’m still thinking about that damn pink dress. 

“This brings back some memories,” Grim says, nudging me back to reality.

“Sure does.” I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t miss parts of this. The fighting, most of all, but also the accolades. It’s nice to be recognized for something you’re good at. I probably liked that part more than I should have.

What I didn’t like was how overboard some fans would go. Following me home. Sending letters and gifts. Trying to sleep with me or just be in my general vicinity. That sounds like fun when you’re twenty-something and single. In my late thirties, with a steady girlfriend, I don’t want to deal with all that. 

“This is hardcore.” Metal looks impressed, and I’m glad he’s engaged for once, instead of just brooding or sulking. 

“We should be in and out quickly,” I say under my breath. “I’ll get weighed, say a few words about looking forward to tonight, and then we’ll leave.”

The other fighters are all here, and Toby gives me a thumbs up before turning to the reporter talking to him. Garth is working the room, with Candy hanging on his arm, and I recognize a lot of faces, both from my fighting days and from the media. Everyone is smiling and taking pictures, making this into a big deal, which is a little confusing. 

This is truly nothing more than an exhibition—so why all the fanfare? I suppose he wants people to get their money’s worth since tickets to the fights sold at a premium, from what I understand.

Grim has his eye on everything and I watch as his gaze settles on Garth, who’s now in what appears to be a heated conversation with Bronco. 

“—fuck no, I won’t.” Bronco sounds pissed. 

Something is going on and I can’t quite figure out⁠—

Out of nowhere it hits me.

Gambling.

This isn’t a sanctioned fight—but that doesn’t mean there isn’t money on the line behind the scenes.

Jesus.

If Garth is as broke as Luna says he is, and he has money riding on the outcome of all the fights—what the fuck have I signed up for? 

Now it makes more sense.

The only question now is whether or not he expects me to win—or lose. I’m going to be pissed either way. If Bronco throws the fight because Garth is going to give him a cut of his winnings, that’s a dick move. And if he’s got something up his sleeve as a way to take me out, that’s not any better.

Luna was right to be worried about the finances. 

I should have listened to her but it really doesn’t matter because no matter what Garth is up to, I don’t plan to lose.

That’s all there is to it.

I don’t care about his money issues, if he’s planning to start his own fight club, or what bets he’s made on the side. I’m going to do my good deed by helping earn money for cancer research, and then I’m going to go home, forget all about this shit, and talk to my girl about moving in together. 

As we’ve been navigating work, sleepovers, and traveling back and forth to L.A., I realized I don’t like being away from her. Sometimes we’ll have no choice because of the job, but when we do, I want her next to me. Making coffee in the morning when I walk into the kitchen. Wearing one of my T-shirts that’s like a dress on her. Her soft body pressed against mine as we fall asleep.

I want her.

Period.

Baby or no baby, I don’t care as long as we’re together. 

“Well, look who it is.” Bronco approaches us with an insincere smile and a snarky tone. He eyes Luna in a way that makes me want to throat punch him, but everyone is watching, undoubtedly expecting some kind of show—and I’m not going to give it to them. Fuck that and fuck this. There’s a reason I left this life, and now I remember exactly what it was.

“Hey, Bronco.” I hold out my hand, but he just looks at it and chuckles.

“We’re not friends, bro.”

“And I’m not your bro.” I arch a brow at him, and he just smirks. 

“Gentlemen, let’s prepare for weigh-in.” Candy breezes between us with a smile. “Rage, Bronco—you’re the last fight, so you’ll be at the back of the line.”

I nod and look at Luna. “This shouldn’t take long. You can just hang out.”

“I’m fine.” She nods, and I lean in to kiss her. 

“Aw, ain’t that sweet.” Bronco drawls, laughing in our direction. 

He’s still an annoying prick, that’s for sure. I just ignore him, though. If he’s trying to get a rise out of me for the sake of the reporters, he’s going to have to work a hell of a lot harder.

“You were right,” I whisper in Luna’s ear. “About Garth’s money issues. I think I just figured out what he’s up to.”

She glances at me, her brows knitted in confusion.

“Gambling,” I murmur.

She blinks as if she didn’t hear me right. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll do what I do, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Be careful,” she whispers, putting a hand on the side of my face. “People who gamble will often do anything to keep from losing.”

“Don’t worry about me.” 

“I’ll always worry.”

That makes me smile. “And I appreciate it.”

She and Metal move to the side as I get into line. Grim is just a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest as he watches everything going on. Bronco is still running his mouth, talking about his ranch in Texas, some club he went to last night, and of course, how he’s going to kick my ass in the cage tonight. 

He steps on the scale and then makes a fist as he flexes his biceps. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” 

Then it’s my turn. 

I step on the scale and there are no surprises with the number that pops up—my growling stomach can attest to that. But this isn’t my first rodeo. 

“Made it, big guy?” Bronco calls out, laughing. “I mean, no surprise, right? We know who the heavyweight is in your house? Am I right?” He looks right at Luna.

A ripple of laughter goes through the room, but all I hear is the roaring in my ears.

“What did you say, asshole?” I step toward him.

“I bet there’s no pussy-eating for you—you’d suffocate.”

This fucker has a death wish.

And the best part for me is that we’re not in the cage. That means I don’t have to follow any rules, so without even looking at him, I pull back my fist and sucker punch him hard enough to knock him on his ass. He goes down and Grim is instantly at my side, pulling me back, murmuring something about how this isn’t the time or the place.

Fuck that.

No one will ever talk about my woman like that. 

“Say something else,” I growl, standing over Bronco.

He looks up at me and laughs, even as blood trickles from the cut on his lip.

“Whassamatter? Did I hit a nerve?”

Cameras are rolling, people are taking pictures, and I’m sure my face will be all over the internet tomorrow, but I seriously could not care less. 

“Go on—what else you have to say?” I snap, grabbing him by the throat as he lumbers back to his feet. He knocks my arms away and glares. 

“I can say anything the fuck I want.”

“Yeah—if you want me to knock you into the middle of next week.”

We’re standing chest to chest and the media is eating this up.

He wipes the blood from his lip. “I guess we’ll find out if you’re as tough as you think you are tonight.”

“Fuck you.”

With that, I turn, grab Luna’s hand, and walk out of the room.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Luna

I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life.

And I don’t know if Elliott knocking that idiot on his ass made it better or worse. 

He apologized profusely, and I’m not mad at him, but it still hurt. I’ve worked so hard on my self-esteem and all it takes is one jerk to say something unkind for it to send me spiraling. 

We know who the heavyweight is in your house? Am I right?

Even now that we’re back at the hotel, heat floods my face every time I think about it. Or see the clip online. It’s gone viral. And of course, the media has now gone crazy trying to figure out who I am. 

That is an unexpected result of the situation.

The general public won’t recognize me.

I was a hacker, not some sort of celebrity, and my identity was well hidden until the FBI got involved. Even then, the people who arrested me may not recognize me now with my pink or purple hair and the contact lenses that replaced my glasses.

“Honey, are you all right?” Rage is watching me intently as I scroll on my phone.

“The entire world now has my picture along with a video clip of Bronco calling me a heavyweight—so no, I’m not all right.”

“What can I do?”

“Just focus on getting ready for the fight. There’s nothing to be done.”

“Then why are you so stressed?”

I turn to look at him, squinting. Typically, he’s not one of those men who’s dense. In fact, he’s the opposite ninety-nine out of one hundred times. Unfortunately, he chose this time to be oblivious. 

“You do understand that my face is everywhere, right?”

“Yeah.” He turns to me. “But this will pass. I mean, it’s the fighting world and after tonight, we’re not going to be a part of it.”

“No, but it’s not like my face is just going to disappear.”

“Okay.”

I throw up my hands in frustration. “Elliott. I’m in witness protection. I’m not supposed to be drawing media attention to myself!”

He frowns. “Yeah, but your situation is a little different. You weren’t some accountant for the mob, where people knew you personally and would recognize you. I mean, you worked mostly on the dark web.”

“Mostly, but not completely. And some of the people on that list were high-ranking officials in the government—they could know what I look like. And potentially where I am.”

“But what do they care? The FBI killed the list so at this point it’s moot.”

“To a degree. The thing is, they don’t know how much I know. The fact that I had a copy of the client list for the Assault Academy is the reason I had to go into witness protection. The people on that list wanted me dead. Possibly still do.”

“Still?” Rage asks in confusion. “As much as I don’t want to think about something like this, the FBI could have had you killed immediately. You wouldn’t have made it into witness protection. You mentioned some very powerful people. And back then, you were a lot more vulnerable than you are now. At this point, don’t you think they’ve moved on? After all this time, you think they’ll recognize you from some crappy pictures of you at the weigh-in with a jerk like Bronco calling you names?”

“I don’t know, but⁠—”

“Honey.” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “I’m not minimizing what you went through, but that’s not your reality anymore. It’s been seven years. As shitty as it is, the whole Assault Academy story died a quick, painless death. At this point, I have a hard time believing any of them are actively looking for you. And Daniil wouldn’t bring you into the fold if he truly believed you were in danger.”

I stare at him for a second, trying to wrap my hand around his casual dismissiveness. 

“Ever since we started trying for a baby,” he continues, “you’ve started worrying about every little thing. The stuff you thought was happening at your apartment, even though the security footage shows it wasn’t. This whole thing with Garth and Candy. It’s like you’re trying to distract yourself from the issues around getting pregnant by either inventing issues elsewhere or inserting yourself in other people’s drama. If you take a step back, I think you’ll see that I’m right.”

I blink, equal parts heartbroken and furious that he would say what he just said. Like I’m just some hormonal, emotional woman, instead of a trusted colleague who’s as skilled as he is, just in a different way. We’re equals professionally, yet he’s treating me like I’m a fucking idiot.

And the worst part is—I can’t even argue with him because I haven’t heard from Jonas yet. Well, I heard from him, but he said it was taking longer than usual because he found something but he hasn’t been able to figure out if the missing time is merely a glitch or if someone actually hacked my security cameras and altered the feed.

“You’re mad,” he says quietly, watching my face.

“I’m disappointed,” I reply honestly.

He sighs, shaking his head a little. “If it were any other day, we could sit down and talk this out, but I can’t today, princess. I’m sorry. I need to be focused on the fight. Can we please talk about this in the morning? Or even tonight?”

“That’s probably a good idea.” I turn and walk into the bathroom, press my back against the door, and close my eyes. 

He’s being such a stereotypical man at the moment, and it’s extra hurtful because up until now, he’s been the opposite. He’s thoughtful. Insightful. He listens. He seems to care about me. And yet, when it comes to something this important, he’s letting me down. I understand that he’s distracted, and I certainly don’t want him to get hurt tonight because he’s thinking about me, but the dismissiveness is mind-boggling.

I’m grateful my phone is in my pocket because I desperately need someone to talk me off the ledge. So, I text Allora. She’s in Atlanta working, and maybe she can offer perspective. Not on this exact situation, since I don’t know how much she knows, but at least with Rage and me having our first…fight? Disagreement? Ugh. I don’t even know what to say. 

LUNA: Hey, it’s me. Elliott and I just had our first disagreement and I’m hiding in the bathroom. What do you do when you and Landon argue?

ALLORA: Hey! I don’t mean to make things worse, but Landon and I don’t really fight. The last time we argued was right before I was kidnapped the second time, and we both thought that the last time we potentially saw each other we were fighting…so we vowed not to. I’m sure it will happen at some point, but for now, we don’t argue. 

LUNA: Okay, that’s annoying as hell. LOL 

ALLORA: Part of it is because I was kidnapped, tortured, and raped. Sometimes I feel like he uses kid gloves with me, and while I appreciate it, we’re actually dealing with that in therapy. It’s just not sustainable long-term.

LUNA: I guess that’s fair. You went through something unimaginable so I can see how he wouldn’t want to upset you—ever. But you’re right, that isn’t sustainable.

ALLORA: So, tell me what you fought about. Maybe I can offer outside perspective?

I sigh.

This is so hard.

Before coming on at Shadow Security, I didn’t care about keeping secrets because I didn’t care enough about anyone to want to tell them. It’s different now, especially with Allora. 

LUNA: Someday, I’ll have to tell you more about my past. But that’s way too much for a text while I’m hiding in the bathroom. 

ALLORA: Is this about the video from weigh in?

LUNA: You saw it?

ALLORA: Yes. I mean, your head is down, so there isn’t really a great shot of your face, but they catch a glimpse of you as you’re leaving.

LUNA: Great. Well, the long and short of it is that I’m afraid someone from my past as a hacker may find me because of that video and Elliott basically said I’m hormonal and trying to deflect my concerns about my infertility by pretending bad things are happening in other aspects of my life.

ALLORA: He SAID that?

LUNA: More or less.

ALLORA: That doesn’t sound like him at all. 

LUNA: I know. And here’s the thing—I asked Daniil to help me figure out one way or another if I’m imagining things or if there really is a threat. I’m waiting for him to get back to me. In the meantime, I’m upset that Elliott dismissed me so easily. You think it’s just because the fight is in a couple of hours? Or is this the real Elliott?

ALLORA: I can’t speak of him as a boyfriend, but I’ve never seen him be dismissive of anyone. He might think it, but he’s more the type to not say anything at all rather than say something hurtful.

LUNA: Well, he didn’t hesitate to hurt me today.

ALLORA: My advice is this: He’s about to fight in public for the first time in like, five years. Let this go until after the fight. Then you sit him down and tell him exactly how he hurt you.

LUNA: I know you’re right. 

ALLORA: He’s not perfect, not by a long shot, but he and Landon are two of the best men I’ve ever known. Strong, capable and loyal to a fault. I mean, he knocked the snot out of that Bronco asshole for what he said.

I manage a wry smile even though she can’t see it.

LUNA: That he did.

ALLORA: He loves you, Luna. It’s going to be okay.

LUNA: He’s never said those words, though.

ALLORA: It doesn’t matter. Actions speak louder than words—and I’m talking about both how he treats you AND the stupid thing he said when you argued. 

LUNA: Thanks for listening. 

ALLORA: Text me during the fight—we can ‘watch’ it together. I’ll have it on here.

LUNA: Will do. Talk later.

ALLORA: Chin up—everything is going to be okay.

I don’t feel nearly as hopeful as she does.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rage

The crowd is loud. Just as loud as any sanctioned fight I ever participated in, and it temporarily throws me for a loop. For some reason, I didn’t think it would be like this. I’ve been somewhat minimizing the impact of the fight, but now that I’m here and it’s about to begin, I feel that familiar pull. The one that makes everything disappear, so that I’m completely immersed in the fight.

Except for the argument with Luna.

It wasn’t even an argument. I thought I was being patient, reminding her of what we talked about before, so that she doesn’t get overly anxious or stressed. Instead, it’s obvious I hurt her feelings. When I tried to back pedal, she told me she didn’t want to talk until after the fight. 

I took her at her word, but now I’m beginning to second-guess myself. 

I should have just apologized. Explained that I didn’t want her to be stressed—that stress could impact her ability to get pregnant almost as much as her hormones. Instead, I took a power nap while she did something on her phone. Then we left for the venue and she went in search of Candy.

After what happened at weigh-in, I decide to do the walk out on my own. No entourage, no fanfare. Just me walking out to the cage, where Grim and Metal will be waiting, and Luna will hopefully be in the front row, along with Daniil, Courtney, Eric, Delilah, and a handful of guys from the Renegade Demons. Everyone else had work commitments, which is fair, but it’ll be nice to have people out there cheering for me. 

Especially Luna.

I don’t know why I reacted the way I did when she started talking about her face being plastered all over the internet.

She had a point.

And I ignored it.

Because I was trying to focus on the fight.

Because she has been hormonal and out of sorts lately.

Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone and it might be fucking with my head. So, instead of talking to her about how I feel, I lashed out at the worst possible time. It probably didn’t help that I was starving, but that’s no excuse.

Dammit.

I pull on my gloves and roll my shoulders.

It’s almost time. 

I hear the roar of the crowd and get a quick nod from Grim before he disappears down the hallway. 

Now it’s just me and my thoughts. 

Bronco’s comments about Luna’s weight this morning have been sitting on the edge of my psyche all day, and I’m going to make him pay for them in the cage. If he was trying to get me riled up, it worked. Frankly, I don’t need to draw this out. A knockout in the first round is a perfectly acceptable way for me to end this whole thing. 

“Mr. Rageis.” One of the assistants sticks his head in the room. “It’s time.”

I nod and make my way down the hall toward the tunnel that will lead out into the crowd and to the cage. I got my nickname, Rage the Cage, because I used it as part of my arsenal—pinning guys against it so I could punch from the clinch. It’s part of what made me a champion. That and my lethal left hook. I’m a southpaw, so most fighters aren’t used to the way I hit, and I scored a lot of knockouts that way. 

And that’s the goal tonight.

Hard, fast, done.

Garth asked us to give the spectators their money’s worth, but I don’t have time for that. I thought this would be fun. Instead, it’s turned into something stressful. Worse than that, I let my nerves get the better of me and I’m almost positive I hurt Luna’s feelings. Which is unacceptable. 

The crowd goes wild as I pad across the floor toward the cage.

I see Grim and Metal standing next to it, waiting. 

I see Bronco already inside.

And I see Garth in there too, ready to announce the fight. 

“I love you, Rage!” a woman’s voice calls out. 

I’m sure Luna loves hearing that. 

“Show ’em how it’s done, bro!” That’s a man’s voice.

I just drown it all out, scanning the crowd for Luna and the others. 

Daniil and Courtney are in the front row, with Silver next to Daniil and an empty seat next to Courtney. Eric and Delilah are right behind them, with a couple other guys from the club next to them. 

Luna might be in the restroom. Or doing something with Candy except—Candy’s sitting a few seats away, also in the front row. 

And there’s no sign of Luna anywhere.

An uneasy feeling crawls over me.

She’s not petty. Even if she’s furious with me, she wouldn’t just skip the fight. 

So, where is she? 

She knows the fight is starting soon. 

She knows I want to see her out there.

For the first time, it occurs to me that maybe she was right—and someone recognized her. Someone who has no idea how much of the Assault Academy clientele she saw. There were a hundred thousand names, so she couldn’t possibly have memorized them all but what if they don’t know that?

What if she still has a copy? 

What if⁠— 

The ref approaches us. “Gentlemen, we’ve already gone over the rules. I want you to protect yourselves at all times. Listen to my instructions at all times. Fight hard, but fight clean. Touch gloves if you like—” The referee nods at us and Bronco surprises me by tapping his knuckles to mine. “Step back. Good luck.”

Here we go.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Luna

My phone rings as I’m about to head to my seat.

Jonas.

Crap. This couldn’t be a more inconvenient time for him to update me, but I need to know what’s what. I find a quiet corner near the restrooms to take the call.

“Hey, Jonas. What did you find?”

“You were right. Your security camera feed was hacked. I finally figured out how they did it. It looks they took a⁠—”

“Jonas, I’m sorry, I don’t have time for details,” I interrupt quickly. “The fight’s about to start and I need to get out there. Just tell me the important stuff.”

“All the times you mentioned, where you thought something was off—it was. I haven’t been able to recover the original data, but there’s no doubt someone tampered with it. That last time you said you heard knocking, there’s missing footage. Like someone deleted just that time and made it look like there was no activity.” 

My heart squeezes painfully, and I lean against the wall. “Fuck.”

“What can I do to help?”

This is bad.

Really, really bad. 

“I’m going to see Daniil in a minute, so I’ll update him but I need one more favor.” The idea occurred to me last night in bed, and I ruminated about it all day, but now I have to know.

“Of course.”

“I need you to access my computer remotely. I can give you the logins.” I tell him all the pertinent information, which says a lot because my computers are locked down tighter than Fort Knox. But this is important. I can hear him tapping away on his keyboard, and once he’s in, I tell him where I have the file hidden.

“This is some serious encryption,” he says with a chuckle.

“I couldn’t afford for anyone to find it—especially not another hacker.”

“All right, I’m in.”

“Open the file and look for a name.”

“Shoot.”

“Garth Harrison. Gargoyle Garth. Anything like that.”

He’s quiet for a beat. “Yeah, here it is. Looks like he was one of the founders of the…Assault Academy?”

“Motherfucker. I knew it.” I hesitate. “One more—Benjamin Guerin. Or Bronco Guerin.”

More tapping and then, “Nope. Nothing even remotely similar.” He pauses. “Luna, is this what I think it is?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Holy fuck.”

“I need you to guard a copy with your life. If something happens to me⁠—”

“You need to go find Dan right fucking now!” His voice is more of a growl.

Why are all the men in my life so bossy? 

“I will,” I say patiently. “But that is the only copy of the list I have and if someone manages to get through my encryption and delete it, it’ll disappear forever. I need you to download a copy and keep it somewhere safe. It’s important, Jonas.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it. Now go find Dan and tell him what’s going on.”

“I am. Thank you for doing this.”

“Any time. Good luck—and let me know when you’re with Dan so I know you’re safe.”

“I will. Thanks again.” I disconnect and pull in a shaky breath. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Garth is not only on the fucking Assault Academy client list, he was one of the ringleaders. When he said someone ruined his online business, he was talking about me exposing the Assault Academy.

And he knows who I am. 

There’s no doubt in my mind.

But why this game of cat and mouse? I don’t understand that part. If he wanted me dead, why not just kill me? Did he find me through Rage or was that connection sheer coincidence?

I have so many questions and now I’m fired up, feeling a strange combination of vindicated—because I am not just hormonal—and terrified.

Garth wouldn’t try anything here, in the middle of the fight, but what if he tries to hurt Elliott? That scares me even more, and I hurry toward the nearest entrance to the auditorium.

“Luna! There you are!” To my surprise, Neil is coming toward me.

“Hey, Neil. I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“I know but some guy named Metal’s looking for you.”

I frown. “Why?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “But I can take you to him real quick so you can get back to watch the fight.”

I hesitate but Neil has nothing to do with any of this. And if Metal is looking for me, I probably need to see what’s up. It’s not like Garth has any way of knowing I’m on to him. Not yet anyway. 

“Okay, thanks.” I follow him through the busy hallway and into a doorway that requires key card access. I have no idea where this leads and I feel a moment of discomfiture. 

“Right in here,” he says, opening another door. 

I hesitate a second before stepping inside. “Metal, what’s—” The words freeze on my lips. 

Metal isn’t here.

But Candy is. 

Before I can ask what’s going on, I feel a pinch in my neck. “What did you—” I whirl, but I’m already dizzy.

Oh no.

Stupid.

So fucking stupid.

My knees start to buckle, and the last thing I see before the room goes dark is my phone slipping from my hand and shattering on the floor.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Rage

We’re scheduled for five three-minute rounds. It’s not exactly regulation but close enough. And Bronco opens the fight with a spinning back kick, but his foot barely glances off my abs after I angle away from him. He resets his stance and comes right back, trying to take me down by shooting for a single leg takedown, but I’m ready for it as I sidestep away. I’m about four inches taller and my arms are much longer, so he’s at a disadvantage in that department because his underhooks aren’t nearly as effective.

He’s strong and fast, though. I catch his speed as with a quick, explosive burst of energy Bronco gets back to his feet before I can punish his takedown attempt. I feel it when he catches me in the ribs with a hook after he feints with two jabs and a cross.

Normally, I work on the body first and then go for the head but now I’ve learned his timing so I fire back hard, catching him in the side of the face with a hook hard enough to make him stumble. He shakes it off and comes at me with a flurry of blows that end with an upper cut that’s hard enough to take us both down to the mat. Somehow, we manage to stay standing. 

With him so close in my guard, his elbow is vicious as it batters my ribs and arms. Nothing I can’t handle, but I really have to end this. I bring up my knee, catching him in the ribs, and he winces.

Interesting.

In all fairness, I was mostly testing the waters—I didn’t put a lot of weight into it. 

Maybe this will be easier than I thought. 

I circle to create some distance as he recovers, the swing twice, a left hook, followed immediately by a right upper cut, backing him against the side of the cage. He kicks out forward with his right leg trying to stop my advance, but I easily move within his guard as I counter with a low jab into his ribs, followed immediately by a cross to his solar plexus, with a hook that’s searching for the knockout. 

His elbow comes up and blocks my hook, making it a glancing blow. He responds with a jab, but I bob out of the way and counter with three quick hooks to the side of his ribs I haven’t hit yet. If I can keep him where he is, it’ll make his life so much more difficult. As long as his back is against the cage, he won’t be able to generate any real power to fight back. Which is exactly what I want. 

“That all you got?” Bronco grunts, blocking my next punch with his forearm. 

“You don’t want all I got,” I snap. 

He smiles. “Yeah. I do. Let’s get this done.”

Does he want me to beat him? 

Before I can process that, he pushes me off of him and I instinctively bring up my leg for a kick to the head. He’s visibly shaken, teetering back a few steps after it connects, so I follow it up with a roundhouse kick specifically to the ribs I tendered up earlier. I can almost see the air leave his lungs as my kick knocks the wind out of him. There’s a small gasping sound and then Bronco hits the mat hard. 

I can smell the defeat radiating off of him. 

I follow him down, pass his guard, and manage to get side-control, where I rain down my elbow on him. Once. Twice. By the third time, I know it’s over, but I don’t stop. I pop up to knee-on-belly, and then pummel him with my fists, throwing some elbows in for good measure. Until the ref pushes me off him and I get to my feet, lifting my arms in the air even though I don’t feel much triumph. 

My eyes immediately go to the chair next to Courtney—it’s still empty. Courtney’s eyes meet mine and I see the worry there. I spin to look at Grim, motioning to him. 

“Where’s Luna?” I yell over the roar of the crowd. 

“I don’t know. She never showed up.” I can’t tell what he’s thinking, the look in his eyes inscrutable. 

“God dammit.” I jump over the wall of the cage and onto the ground. 

“What’s going on?” Metal is right there, handing me a T-shirt.

I pull it over my head and motion to Daniil, who manages to push past the crowd of people trying to get my attention. 

“Where’s Luna?” he asks me.

“That’s what I want to know.”

All of us stand there for a beat.

“We had a…disagreement,” I mutter. “I asked if she wanted to talk about it and she said no, that we’d talk after the fight. It wasn’t serious enough for her to not show up.”

Was it?

“She was talking to Jonas at…” He looks down at his phone. “Around eight thirty.”

“She was talking to who?” I stare at him.

“Let’s take this in the back,” Grim says, looking around at the crowd of people warily. I think he’s more worried about Daniil than anything else, but regardless, we probably shouldn’t do this right here anyway.

“Rage!” Garth is approaching with a big smile on his face. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” I nod and turn, pushing toward the back. Grim, Metal, Daniil, and Courtney flank me and we walk toward my dressing room. 

“You never saw her?” I ask Courtney.

She shakes her head. “No. She texted me that she was going to get a drink and use the bathroom and she’d see me in a few. That was around eight.”

I slowly turn to Daniil. “Why was she talking to Jonas?”

He meets my gaze. “Because she wanted someone who wasn’t her to go through the security cam footage from her apartment to see if there was any interruption of service or if anyone had tampered with it.”

Fuck. Me.

A bad feeling winds through my gut.

“And?” I barely grit out the word.

“He found sections of the footage had been deleted.”

“During the times she heard that weird knocking.” I close my eyes, trying to keep the fury coursing through my veins at bay. I thought it stopped because she stopped mentioning it. But it didn’t.

Mother. Fucker.

She’d known something was up, and I fucking convinced her it was all in her head. That it was stress. Hormones. Kids in the building. Whatever the fuck else I told her. 

What the hell is wrong with me?

“So, you guys had a fight?” Grim asks quietly. 

I nod, still too pissed off at myself to form words that aren’t laced with profanity. 

“Like, a bad fight?” Metal asks slowly. 

“No!” I snap. “It was stupid. I guess it’s more like I was stupid but not…” I clench my fists. “Someone call her.”

“I’ve been calling her,” Courtney says softly. “Through the whole fight. It goes straight to voicemail.”

“And I just got a text from Allora asking if you two have made up yet,” Grim says wryly. “Apparently, the girls talked earlier, and she said Luna was frustrated with whatever you two argued about but was absolutely planning to be at the fight. She even told her you’d agreed to talk after the fight.”

“But she never got here.” 

“No, she did,” Courtney corrects me. “She told me she was in line to get a drink and then going to the restroom. She was in the building and planning to come sit with us.”

“Then where is she?”

The question is rhetorical until Daniil looks up, and the expression on his face makes my gut tighten with concern.

“What?” I ask. “Tell me.”

“Uh, Luna gave Jonas access to her personal computer. She needed him to look something up.” He pauses, glancing at Courtney and then back at me.

“Are you going to keep us in suspense?” I demand, my patience hanging on by a thread.

He lowers his voice. “She kept a copy of…the list.”

“What list?” Metal asks, frowning.

“Oh, no.” Courtney’s eyes widen.

“The list?” I’m momentarily confused.

“The list.” Daniil meets my gaze, eyes boring into mine. “The one that caused all her problems.”

Oh, fuck. The Assault Academy’s list of clients. 

Fuck. Me. That list. 

The list that got her arrested and forced into witness protection.

“Dammit.”

Daniil shakes his head. “I thought I knew everything about her past, but I didn’t know she kept a copy of the list.” 

“And Jonas has it now?” Grim asks finally.

Daniil swallows. “He does. But before they hung up, she asked him to look up a name.” He pauses, glancing over at Bronco. “Well, two names. But only one was on the list.”

“Who?” I demand, my fists clenched again. 

“Garth Harrison.”

Blood roars behind my ears, and I yank the nearest bench off the ground, vaulting it against the wall with a growl of sheer fury.

I whirl to Daniil. “He’s got her. I know it with everything I am—he has her.”

“Then we’ll get her back.”

“Who has who?” Bronco comes into the room. “Is Garth up to more fuckery?”

I almost tell him to fuck off but catch myself, turning suspiciously. “More fuckery? What are you talking about?”

“You know he asked me to throw the fight, right?”

I stare.

I suspected but none of that matters now. 

“Look, I don’t know what you two were up to but right now, I think he’s got Luna. And I don’t know what the hell he’ll do to her if I don’t find her before he does it.”

Unless he’s already killed her.

No. I can’t go there. 

“Why would he hurt her?” Bronco asks, frowning. “This whole thing was about money for him, paying off his debts.”

“I don’t know how or if the fight was part of his plan, but he’s been trying to get to Luna for months. And we essentially gave him his in.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Luna

I float in a hazy fog of drug-induced nightmares, waffling between sleep and awake. The first time I open my eyes I’m in a moving vehicle and let out a shriek that earns me another pinch and more darkness. 

The second time I’m more cautious. I don’t open my eyes right away but I’m fairly certain I’m not in a moving vehicle anymore. As I slowly become aware of my surroundings, I realize my hands and feet are bound, and I’m lying on a cold, hard surface. Slowly, I peek through my lashes but all I see is darkness. 

Opening my eyes the rest of the way, I’m pretty sure I’m alone, but I have no idea where. It’s cold, dark, and damp. Like a basement or something. But in general, there are no basements in California. Obviously, there could be a business or a specialty building that has one, so anything is possible, but none of that gives me a clue as to where I am.

I turn onto my back and see some boxes stacked in the corner, an old rusty wood stove, and what looks like an old work desk covered in tools. 

A shudder involuntarily runs through me as it all comes back to me.

Neil. Candy.

Garth.

This is his doing, I have no doubt about that but can’t figure out why Candy and Neil would be involved.

Money, most likely. 

Garth’s motivations have to be personal, but anyone else he dragged into this is most likely in it to get paid.

God, I was so fucking stupid. I never should have gone with Neil. It never occurred to me he would be in cahoots with Garth considering he and Candy are having an affair. But that might not be the case at all. In fact, I probably have no idea what’s really going on. 

That’s what scares me.

The only reason I’m not completely freaking out is because I know Elliott will come for me. Daniil, Grim, and the others too. Daniil vowed I would always be safe if I went to work for him and for the most part, he’s been right. 

This is my own fault. If I’d just gone straight to where Daniil and the others were waiting, none of this would have happened. 

Stupid.

I’d been so caught up in what I was doing, proving that I was right, I walked right into Garth’s trap.

Dammit.

Tears sting my eyes even as I fight valiantly not to cry. Crying isn’t going to get me out of this. I have to use my head now, and do whatever is necessary to survive until Elliott comes for me.

Because he will.

He has to.

Even if our relationship doesn’t survive, he’ll come for me. 

A noise startles me and I jump, looking around. 

Then I see it—a rat.

Oh, fuck no. 

I wiggle into a sitting position, looking around for anything I can use to fight it off if it comes near me. It’s small, so I’m not worried about it overpowering me—I’m worried about falling asleep and it deciding to eat me. Or maybe small parts of me. 

Shuddering again, I wiggle until I’m against a wall, with my feet straight out in front of me. Luckily, Garth or whoever tied my hands in front and not the back, so I can be reasonably comfortable.

A sliding sound gets my attention and this time I know it’s going to be something much larger than a rat. I steel myself. There’s no point in pretending to be asleep. If he’s going to beat me and kill me, he’ll just do it. 

“You’re awake.” Garth comes into the room still wearing his clothes from last night. Tonight? I have no concept of the time, so I don’t know how long it’s been.

“What time is it?” I ask.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Time means nothing to you now. Because you don’t have a lot left.”

I stare at him. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” He stares at me, hands on his hips. “I want my money back. I want my fucking life back!” He kicks a random piece of plywood that’s on the floor. “Do you have any idea what you cost me?”

“Do you have any idea what you cost me?” I counter. Being nice isn’t going to fix this, so I might as well say what’s on my mind. 

“Cost you?” He laughs but it’s a cruel, almost unhinged sound. “What did you lose?”

“My job. My reputation. Every dime I had. And even my ability to make money because I had a felony attached to my name!”

“Well, you broke the law.”

“So did you!” I shoot back.

We glare at each other. Then he chuckles. “Oh, this is going to be fun, breaking you.”

Breaking me? Ew. That sounds horrible but he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t understand that I’ll die before bending to a man like him. To any man really, but specifically him. 

“I like feisty women. My Marissa, she was so damn sassy.” He smiles, another weird, unhinged smile that makes him look more disturbed than happy or reminiscent. “That’s what made it fun to do what I did to her.” He turns to me. “Don’t you understand? Women today are so damn independent and bossy—they need to be brought down a notch. A man needs to be the king in his own castle.”

“By teaching men to rape women who are asleep?” I demand incredulously.

He rolls his eyes. “They didn’t know what was happening and didn’t remember when they woke up. In my case, she was my wife so I had every right to take what I needed. Especially once she got sick. She was incapable of giving it up because she was so sick, so I waited until she was asleep. It wasn’t even that hard, she was so drugged up at that point.”

Asshole.

I don’t say that, though, I just stare, letting him rant.

“It was win-win,” he continues. “I mean, she wasn’t aware, so how was it hurting her? She got to rest and I got what I needed.”

“Do you really not see a problem with raping your sick, dying wife?” I whisper incredulously.

He turns with a snarl. “What about me? I had to take care of her for four fucking years! Years! Always puking and crying and complaining. And Jesus, she was so ugly at the end. Bald. Skin so pale it was almost translucent. Broken fingernails. Chapped lips. Fucking her wasn’t as much fun as you might think.”

“Then why did you do it?” I ask quietly. “Why not find a hooker or even a random stranger? You’re a good-looking man.”

He frowns at me. “And break my marriage vows?”

I’m amazed at the fact that he can still amaze me.

“We had a good thing going, and you didn’t just ruin it for me—you ruined it for all of us.”

“How?” I counter. “I’m the one who got arrested and banished into WITSEC. You guys could have picked right back up where you left off.”

“It wasn’t the same!” he yells. “The website got taken down and every time we tried to start a new one, the FBI found it. They were on to us, and it was impossible to hide.”

Cry me a fucking river, buddy. Your rape assistance program couldn’t find a new home? If I wasn’t in such a precarious situation, I would have rolled my eyes.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask amiably. “You know Rage is going to come looking for me.”

He smiles. “I look forward to watching him suffer, knowing that the woman he loves is dying a slow, painful death.”

“He knows you put bets on the fight.”

“That’s not illegal.”

“It is when you try to control the outcome of the fight.”

He shrugs. “No one can prove that. Bronco won’t rat me out—he’s in way too deep.”

“Candy? Neil? They’re all going to keep your secrets?”

“Neil just wants Candy, and Candy likes money. She has a nasty cocaine habit that keeps her on the verge of homelessness every single day.”

I never considered drugs. 

“The money from the fight will keep her going for a couple of years.” He looks around and picks something up from the tool bench. “Ah, yes. This is perfect.”

Uh oh.

“What do you get by killing me?” I ask slowly. “My life was ruined just like yours.”

“Yet you’re still out there, doing your thing while I’m reduced to running charity events, never knowing how I’m going to pay rent.” He turns slowly, eyes narrowed. Mean. Like a snake ready to strike. 

Maybe this is it.

Dammit.

I didn’t plan to go out this way. Or any way. Not now, at least.

And I guess I’m never going to be a mom. 

Or tell Elliott that I love him. 

Or thank him for being the man of my dreams, even if we didn’t have nearly enough time together.

I press my back into the wall, like that’s somehow going to help me stay away from Garth as he approaches me, knife in hand. It’s old and rusty, which is gross in and of itself, but I guess it doesn’t matter if he’s going to kill me.

“This part will be quick,” he says, squatting in front of me. “The hard part will be later…when you’re too exhausted to fight them off and the rats are drawn to the smell of your blood.”

At this point, I’m too annoyed to be afraid—I’m sure that will come later too. 

“You’re a dick,” I snap, scowling. “And I hope Elliott breaks you into tiny, irreparable pieces!”

He chuckles, and before I can react, slices that knife across the top of the toes of my right foot. I shriek, yanking my feet away but it’s too late. 

“The rats will start at the top and slowly nibble on your toes. And you can watch them do it. Without food and water, you’ll only be able to fight them off another thirty-six hours. Maybe forty-eight since you’ve got some heft on you.”

For once, my overweight body might be good for something.

“Fuck you.” I glare at him because that’s all I have left. 

He smiles. “You’ll be too gross to touch like that. No thanks. Besides, this has all been about watching you suffer. All the months of knocking and having someone hack your bank account…sending you presents…screwing with you like you screwed with me.” He reaches out and trails his fingers along the line of my jaw. “Were you scared, Shawna?”

I yank my head to the side, grimacing at both his touch and the use of my real name. “Fuck off.”

He just laughs. 

Then he gets up and walks out of the room, closing and locking the door firmly behind him.

Chapter Forty

Rage

The night is long and frustrating. By morning, I’m almost crawling out of my skin. We’ve searched everywhere we can think of, but there’s no sign of Garth. By the time we went looking for him after the fight, he’d already left the auditorium and no one knew where he went. 

Thanks to Jonas’s supreme cyber skills, we know where Candy is, and we’re headed there now.

“Where is he?” I demand, pushing my way inside when she opens her hotel room door. 

She shrieks, holding a dress in front of her as we push inside. I’ve got Grim and Metal with me, and they block the exit.

“Where’s Neil?” I ask.

“He went out for coffee--what do you want?” There are clothes all over the room, and an open suitcase on the bed. She’s obviously planning to go somewhere, but the only place she’s going is to jail, if I have anything to say about it.

“Where. Is. He.” I repeat myself slowly, in a deep, hoarse voice that brooks no argument. I can see the fear in her eyes, but it doesn’t deter me. Normally, I wouldn’t hit a woman, but I’ll make an exception under these circumstances. 

“I already told you!”

“Not Neil.”

“Then who?” she demands, hanging on to the last vestiges of her dignity as she lifts her chin.

“Garth!” I yell his name so loud she jumps.

“I don’t know!” she yells back. “We had a deal—I would get the profit from the fundraiser, and he gets the money from his bets. Then we go our separate ways. Neil and I are flying to New York in a couple of hours.”

Luna’s been missing more than twelve hours at this point, so I don’t give a shit where Candy thinks she’s going or when. 

“Where did you last see him?”

“At the auditorium. He was handling receipts from the night. The venue gave us twenty-five percent of money from the bar.”

“Where does he live?” I growl, beginning to lose my patience.

“He’s been staying at a motel in Culver City.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” To my surprise, Metal brushes past me and wraps his fist around Candy’s long hair, yanking it just hard enough for her to yelp. “Give us the fucking address. Now.”

She bursts into tears and starts babbling the name of a place on Sepulveda. 

Metal shoves her away hard enough for her to stumble. 

“Why are you with her?” she yells at me. “You could have anyone! And she’s this horrible hacker who stole all of Garth’s money!”

I turn slowly, staring at her. “That what he told you to make you go along with this little plan?”

“It’s true!”

I shake my head. “You know who your boyfriend is?” I ask gruffly. “The man who helped create the Assault Academy. You know what that is?”

I see the wheels turning and it takes a few minutes.

Then her mouth forms a little “O.” 

“Yeah, and Luna is the one who uncovered that shit and tried to take them down. So check your tone before you talk about Luna.” With that, I turn and stalk out the door with Metal and Grim behind me.

“Chances are, he’s gone,” Grim says as we get back in my SUV and I have to agree, even though I don’t say it.

“We’ll find him,” Metal says from the back seat. “I texted the name of the motel to Silver while we were still in the room—he’s already on the way. If he’s there, they’ll keep him there. If not, we can pivot.”

“The problem is that we don’t have anywhere to pivot to,” I mutter, trying to focus on the road in front of me. 

“Oh, yeah we do.” Grim’s looking at his phone with a grin. “Jonas found his phone.”

“Where?” I demand.

“Hang on.” He makes a call and puts it on speaker. “Jonas—where is he?”

“Well, his phone is pinging in Santa Monica. Looks like he’s going south on the 405.”

I swing my SUV around and head for the freeway. 

We’re going to find him.

One way or another. 

And when we do, he’s going to regret every decision he’s ever made if he’s so much as harmed a single hair on Luna’s head. 

“This is too easy,” Metal says as we speed down the freeway. “He got taken down by a hacker once, and we have to assume he hired a hacker to get into Luna’s accounts and stuff. I feel like we’re heading into a trap.”

I’ve had the same thought but this is literally the only lead we have. If it’s a trap, we’re fairly well-prepared to fight back, but all I care about is Luna.

“Do you think he’s purposely leading us to her?” Grim asks. I don’t know if it’s rhetorical or not but I just keep my foot on the gas, eyes on the road.

“I think he wants Rage to suffer,” Metal says. 

“For what reason?” I counter. “We never had any beef. I left the fighting world not long after he did, despite the age difference. He had to retire; I wanted to. I didn’t take anything from him. He was a heavier weight class than me, so we never even fought. Nor would we have if I’d stayed the course.”

“No, but there’s something there,” Grim says. “Maybe it’s just about the money. Or jealousy. It could be a million things.”

“Or something as simple as the fact that you love the woman he blames for taking down the Assault Academy.”

“What kind of sick fucks drug the women they’re supposed to love so they can rape them?” Grim mutters. “It’s bullshit. I like sex. I would even venture to say I love sex more than most people—but fucking a lifeless body is no fun. Not even a little.”

“It’s not truly about the sex act,” I say. “It’s about control. Being in charge to the point that your partner cannot say no. And they can’t even protest because they’re out cold.”

“Fuck that,” Metal mutters.

“Assholes.” Grim shakes his head.

“Do you think she’s dead?” I ask after a beat.

“That’s too easy,” Grim says right away. “If he wanted to kill her, he knows where she lives, so he could have done it at any time. He wanted her to suffer, be afraid. So no, I don’t think she’s dead.”

I can’t vocalize my other fears.

If he’s raped her—no, I can’t go there. 

My fingers tighten on the wheel. 

“The motel room was empty,” Metal says. “Silver and the others just got there. The guy at the desk said he checked out twenty minutes ago—so we just missed him.”

“Dammit.” We wasted so much time last night chasing our tails.

I’ve got Luna’s shattered phone in my pocket—like it’s somehow keeping her close to me.

“We’re going to catch him,” Grim says. “Don’t worry.”

I don’t respond because he knows I’m going to worry no matter what he says.

“Just heard from Daniil,” Grim says. “The police picked up both Candy and Neil and brought them in for questioning regarding the embezzled money from the fundraiser.”

I don’t care about the money.

We just need to find Luna.

I’m sorry, princess—I should have listened. 

“Okay, we have something,” Grim says. “Garth’s wife owned a house just outside Pomona. It’s still in her name, but he must own it now. It’s on a lake, looks somewhat isolated.”

“That’s where she is.” I yank the wheel and move into the right lane. I need to get off and whip around, so I can jump on I-10 going east.

“Silver, Motor, and Nitro will meet us there—drop me a pin.” Metal’s on his phone. “And I’ll have one of the guys follow whoever has Garth’s phone, just in case.”

That makes sense so I nod, but I’m not paying much attention to them. I just need to get my girl back. Preferably before Garth hurts her.

The rest of the drive is accomplished in complete silence. By the time we take the road that leads to the house, a deadly calm has settled over me. It was like this in the military, too, when we were heading into a fight. I was always the calmest, hyper-focused on the task at hand.

And this time the task is personal. 

We slow down and I spot three motorcycles against a line of trees. No one is on them, but I know Silver and the others are nearby.

“Silver says the house is dark, he can’t see anyone inside but there’s no way to know for sure unless they break in.”

“Do it,” I say, pulling to a stop. “If she’s not here, we get the hell back on the road. But I think she is.”

Silver appears from behind the house and gives us a thumb’s up. I take a quick look around and then get out of my SUV. Since we came up to L.A. for the fight, I didn’t think to bring a weapon and I know Grim isn’t armed either. Metal, however, produces a handgun from his boot and hands it to me. 

“Just in case,” he says.

I stuff it in the back of my sweats and stalk toward the house. 

Silver has already picked the lock on the front door and is inside.

“Rage—she’s here!” I hear someone yell. 

Thank fuck.

I’ve just stepped onto the porch when a car crunches up the gravel driveway. I lift my head and see him.

Garth.

Our eyes lock for a fraction of a second before he puts the car in reverse and his tires squeal as he takes off down the street.

“You take care of my girl!” I hiss at Grim. “I’m going after Garth!”

Before anyone can react, I jump back in my SUV and take off down the street.

Chapter Forty-One

Luna

My foot bleeds a lot at first. The cuts are pretty deep, but eventually the bleeding slows. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but I was able to bend my knees enough to tuck my feet under my butt, offering a little pressure. For the first time ever, my fat ass is good for something. 

The irony doesn’t escape me.

For now, I’ve kept the rats at bay but I see them. They keep mostly to the perimeter but they’re watching me. The puddle of blood must attract them or something, so I’ve rolled to a different part of the room. 

I’m going to be pissed if I can’t wear heels after this because the area of my toes that he sliced becomes too sensitive. I really fucking love heels. Especially now that I have a man tall enough for me to wear them.

Of course, that would assume I’m going to live long enough to see him again. 

Fuck.

I’m exhausted, my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and I really have to pee. If I don’t get rescued soon, I’m going to piss all over myself, which is strangely the least of my worries at the moment. 

I don’t know how I’m going to survive, but I’ll fight to the very end. If working at Shadow Security taught me anything, it’s that.

I’ve also had a lot of conversations with Allora about what she went through when she was kidnapped. She focused all her strength on surviving long enough to get revenge, and with the things they did to her, I have to be at least half that strong. She made it. After everything that happened, she managed to come out the other side, mostly no worse for wear.

If she can, I can too.

My Shadow Security family deserves a colleague who shows strength during adversity.

And Elliott deserves a woman who won’t give up. Not on him, and not on herself.

I close my eyes, figuring I should rest now, before I’m too weak to fight off those stupid rats, but then a sound upstairs makes them pop open again.

Is Garth back already? He’s only been gone a couple of hours. 

Dammit.

I thought I’d have more time.

I should have rolled myself to the work bench. I don’t know what else is there since I think Garth took the knife with him, but it’s too late now. I just⁠—

“Luna! Luna, are you here? It’s Silver!”

Silver?

I blink for a second, and then I scream.

“I’m down here! I’m here!” My heart is thundering, and I sit up straight, looking toward the door.

Someone fumbles with it on the other side and then there’s a crashing sound and someone’s denim-clad leg crashes right through the wood. A hand reaches through and unlocks it, and the first face I see is Grim’s.

“Landon!” I yell his legal name because…I don’t even know why but it feels right.

“Hey, hon.” He practically jumps down the short stairway and rushes over to me. He produces a knife and cuts through the ropes binding me in a couple of flicks of his wrist.

“Oh my God. You found me.” I look up at him, and at Silver and Motor, who are right behind him.

Then I burst into tears.

“You’re okay now.” And just like that, he scoops me up in his arms. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

“Wh-where’s Rage?” I sob, clutching his shirt like a lifeline.

“He went after Garth.”

My head snaps up. “No! He’ll kill him and wind up in jail! Grim, you have to stop him.”

“Honey.” He looks down at me, and there’s genuine regret in his eyes. “There isn’t a force on earth that can stop Elliott from doing what he’s about to do.”

Elliott.

Not Rage.

Elliott.

Because Rage is a soldier. A fighter. A bodyguard.

Elliott is a man currently fighting to right one of the wrongs in the world. 

Rage is a persona, an alter ego.

Elliott is a man.

My man.

I’ve never heard Landon call Rage by his given name. Not once in the seven months we’ve all known each other, so I understand how serious this is.

“He can’t go to prison,” I whisper. “You have to try!”

“No one’s going to prison except Garth,” Silver says solemnly, patting my arm like I’m a little kid. “And that’s only if Rage lets him live. Trust me on that, sweetheart.”

I shiver once we get outside even though it’s August and probably ninety degrees.

“We have to get her to a hospital,” Grim says. 

“We have to go after Elliott,” I insist. “Please. I can’t rest until I see him.”

“Let me see your foot,” Metal says when Grim puts me in the back of an SUV. 

“Hey, Luna. Glad you’re okay.” Eric nods, smiling at me. 

Okay, now the SUV makes sense. Elliott would have taken his. 

“Get me the first aid kit!” Metal yells to Silver, who nods.

The next few minutes are a little uncomfortable but Metal cleans the wound as best he can, puts some kind of antibiotic ointment on it, and then bandages it. It won’t last long but at least long enough for us to find Elliott. 

That’s all I care about.

I have too many things I want to tell him—and I don’t want to do it while he’s in jail. Or worse. 

I have no idea what happened to my shoes, but someone produces what appears to be a clean pair of socks, so I put them on and then settle in the back seat. 

“I hate to be a bother,” I say quietly, “but I need to go back in the house or I’m going to pee my pants.”

Grim reaches out a hand to help me out of the SUV, and I somehow speed walk across the yard, back into the house, and search every wall until I find a bathroom. 

I use the facilities and wash my hands, but don’t touch anything else, and walk back outside shaking the excess water off.

“I’ll be damned if I touch one of his towels,” I mutter. “Probably have creepy cooties.”

Silver laughs. “I like her.”

“Water?” Eric produces a bottle and I guzzle the whole thing down. 

“Thank you,” I whisper. Grim gets in beside me, Eric gets behind the wheel, and Metal sits in the passenger seat.

Then we hit the road.

“Daniil just sent me Rage’s location,” Eric says. “We can catch them if I step on it.”

I stare out the window, my heart pounding. I’m sure it’s just adrenaline, but I’m not even a little bit tired now. All I can think about is making sure Elliott is okay. I know he’s as tough as they come, but Garth isn’t just a former fighter. He’s a rapist, a thief, a kidnapper, and who knows what else. If he can find a way to hurt Elliott, he will. And if something happens to him, it will be my fault.

And I can’t live with that. 

My past is my cross to bear—not his.

Chapter Forty-Two

Rage

I’m driving like a bat out of hell when I catch up to Garth, but to my surprise, he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. Once he realized I was behind him, he slowed down to the legal speed limit and has been driving along this random side street like he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

I can’t quite figure out his game, but if he thinks he’s leading me into a trap, he’s sorely mistaken. Someone is taking care of Luna—I’m positive of that—but the others will have my back. Garth can’t possibly believe he’s going to get away with what he did. Or that I won’t make him pay.

Or maybe that’s what he’s counting on.

Sometimes even the most evil men know when to call it quits.

The issue, of course, is that a lot of the time, they want to take their pursuers down with them. 

And I’m not going anywhere. 

I watch as he gets on a random two-lane highway, zigzagging through a few smaller towns as he heads toward Ontario. I don’t want him to get to a city because that means witnesses. Street cameras. Cops.

Because Garth isn’t going to prison. Not on my watch. No, this is going to end today. One way or another.

I speed up until I’m right on his ass and bump his back bumper. The car jolts a little but he just keeps going. Time is running out for me to take care of him without an audience. 

I step on the gas and pull up alongside him, then I yank the wheel to the right hard. It smashes against the driver’s side of his car and the vehicle goes onto the shoulder, shakes a little, and then winds up in a ditch. I slam on the brakes, stopping on the shoulder, and get out of my SUV. I walk to the edge of the road and look down.

Garth has gotten out of his car and is hoofing it toward a line of trees, so I make my way down the incline and follow. He looks over his shoulder, like he’s trying to decide what to do next, and then abruptly stops. He turns to me, eyes gleaming, breathing hard.

“Now what?” he asks. “You going to kick my ass?”

“What do you think?” I ask, stopping a couple of feet in front of him. 

“I taught you everything you know.”

“Not hardly.”

The United States Marines taught me things he’s never even dreamed of.

Four years in the Middle East taught me things I wish I didn’t know. Men I killed without a backward glance. He has no idea what I know.

Put those things together with my professional fighting experience, he’s going to wish I didn’t know them either. 

“She ruined my life,” he says, like that’s supposed to change my opinion.

“You were running a fucking rape ring!” I say, shaking my head. “How is she the villain here?”

“No one was getting hurt! The women were all in consensual, committed relationships. The fact that we had sex with them while they were sleeping doesn’t change anything. I loved Marissa. That’s why I figured out a way to get what I needed from her without stressing her out.”

“Without…” I can’t wrap my head around the bullshit he’s spewing. “Jesus, do you even hear yourself?”

“I had a good thing going—and she fucking destroyed it. Not just the academy, but my life! The cancer treatments were going to bankrupt us. I used that money to take care of her! Why don’t you understand that?”

“Wait—the Assault Academy was your idea?” I stare at him.

He scowls. “Me and three others. And it took off. I was able to take care of Marissa, get her every treatment available, and then at the end, she would have had private nurses, the best drugs, so she wouldn’t have to suffer. Instead, that Shawna bitch forced me to shut it down and I lost everything. Thank God for Mikey.”

“Who the fuck is Mikey?” I’m more curious than anything else.

“Director of the FBI—Michael Marchmont. We went to college together. Been friends for decades.”

Luna really uncovered quite the can of worms. No wonder she was worried. And I foolishly minimized the danger.

Well, that ends now.

“He can’t protect you this time,” is all I say.

Garth doesn’t say anything. 

And then, to my surprise, he kicks off his shoes and holds up his fists, in a fighter’s stance.

I don’t know if he actually believes he can take me or if he’s just posturing. Before I can decide, his leg comes out and he kicks me. Hard. Right in the gut. It hurts, because back in the day his kick was lethal, but today I just smile.

Because he’s fifteen years beyond “back in the day.” 

And unlike him, I’m still in my prime. Maybe not my prime as far as the UFC goes, but certainly the prime of my life. In the best shape of my life. And more deadly than anyone he ever got in a cage with.

“Bring it, old man.” I don’t have to take off my shoes or anything else.

Without warning, he charges me, and we go down in the grass, rolling and swinging like our lives depend on it. Maybe they do. He still has a hell of an elbow and a cross that stings, but I’ve seen him favor his right leg. Just a little. Not enough for anyone but a fellow fighter to notice, so that’s where I focus my energy, sending kicks to his knee and thigh. 

Finally, I push him off me and we both jump to our feet.

He swings but I easily move out of the way. He’s slow, and already winded, but he could also be faking, trying to make me drop my guard. 

That’s not going to happen.

I kick out, catching him in the side of the knee, and there’s a faint wince. 

Now I know exactly where to focus my energy.

But he surprises me, coming in with a barrage of powerful punches that bring us both down, grappling for dominance. 

He’s stronger than he looks, but now that I know, I’ll simply adjust. Only one of us is walking away today. And it won’t be him.

I roll onto my back, and from there I’m able to kick out and send him sprawling. I turn and go on the attack, this time pinning him down by pressing on his bad knee with one of mine while going at his ribs with all my power. He pushes at me, the fingers of one hand squeezing my face. I know he’s going for my eyes, so I twist my head and continue to throw punch after punch.

I’m wearing him down, but he’s not giving up easily either. 

Because he knows we’re fighting to the death.

This isn’t a sanctioned fight, an exhibition, or anything else—he understands that one of us isn’t walking away. What he doesn’t know is that it’s not going to be him. 

He brings up his good knee, catching me in the ribs, and it’s enough of a distraction for him to wiggle out from under me and stand up. But he can’t fake the cut over his eye or the way he’s limping. The pain is real.

I’ve got him now.

I bring up my leg and make direct contact with his ribs. I follow it up with a solid kick to the side of his knee, and he goes down. I follow and land on his side, reaching for his left wrist with my right hand under his head. I press my weight down on his left elbow as I make contact with his left wrist and pull his left arm across his face, pretty much rendering him helpless. 

My elbows fire down onto his ribs with the occasional crunch. He’s able to bring his hand underneath his arm to his forehead and heave, which frees him from the helpless position I had him in. He rolls like a log away from me as I try to maintain my hold on his wrist. The cut on his eye must be bleeding a lot more than I thought as my fingers slip free.

He scrambles to his feet on unsteady legs, and I rush forward. I bring back my fist and crash it into his nose. Blood spurts everywhere, but I just keep hitting him. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses. “I never should have taken you under my wing.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” I reply. “Because I hate knowing that we ever had anything to do with each other.”

Blood is pouring down his face now, and when he bares his teeth, I see the man that would have killed Luna. The man who raped his cancer-stricken wife for an indeterminate length of time. The man who helped teach other men how to rape their unconscious partners. The man who kidnapped and did God only knows what to the woman I love.

I bring back my fist and smash it into his mouth. His head snaps to the side, blood covers his shoulder and my hand, but he swings back, roaring as he tries to claw at my face. Batting him away, I know what I have to do. I’ve only done it one other time—that was in the Middle East and I swore I’d never do it again once I came home—but I will for Luna. And for all the women whose partners raped them because of this man.

There are punches and then there are life-changing blows.

This is going to be the latter. 

When my fist connects with the side of his jaw everything seems to move in slow motion. I don’t know if I feel or hear the crack, but in my head, it’s deafening. His head snaps back and he sinks to the ground. And doesn’t move.

His neck is positioned at a weird angle, and I’m vaguely aware of someone calling my name.

Luna.

It’s Luna’s voice.

“Elliott! Elliott!”

“Don’t let her down here!” I yell back.

Someone must grab her because she shrieks indignantly but I’m rooted to the spot. There’s movement around me, and I feel a hand on my arm.

“He dead?” Silver’s voice.

“I’m pretty sure.”

Metal kneels down beside Garth and puts his fingers on his neck. “No pulse. His neck is broken. He’s gone.”

I nod once. 

“We need to clean this up,” Silver says. “I’m making a call.” He walks back up the embankment, phone at his ear.

“You okay?” Grim asks, coming over to me.

“I’m fine.” I turn my back on Garth’s body. “Make sure Luna doesn’t see this.”

“I think she needs to see it.”

I scowl. “She doesn’t.”

“Maybe ask her what she needs.”

He has a point.

I look up and see my girl standing with Eric, cursing a blue streak as he tries to keep her from running toward me. 

Instead, I jog up to her and wrap her in my arms.

Chapter Forty-Three

Luna

I bury my face in his chest and hold on for dear life. He’s alive. Safe. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against my hair.

“You’re sorry?” I tilt up my head in confusion. “For what?”

“For not listening. For not believing you when you said something was off.”

“We had altered security footage. I feel like an idiot. I’m supposed to be one of the world’s best hackers—an elite hacker back in the day—and I didn’t realize that my own security system had been hacked.”

“None of us even thought to check.”

“Thank goodness Jonas figured it out.”

“You didn’t tell me you kept a copy of the list,” he says under his breath, eyes searching my face.

“It was something of a back-up plan, just in case anything happened to me. I have a will and there are instructions in it on how to get to the list and release it to the public. But I never told anyone, not even Daniil. I hoped I would never have to use it.”

“What’s stopping you from releasing it now?”

“The fact that a member of the President’s cabinet, two United States senators, and a member of the British royal family would all probably come for me.” I hesitate. “The truth is, I don’t know if my cover is blown. If I have to go back to witness protection and start over again, as someone else, somewhere else.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he says firmly. “And if it does, we get married and I go with you.”

I stare at him. “You’d leave Shadow Security? Grim?”

“I don’t have any answers yet but yes, I’d give up everything to be with you. I love you, Luna.”

I bury my face in his chest again, tears squeezing out of my eyes. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”

“There’s plenty of blame to go around.” He runs a hand through my hair. “No need for self-flagellation.” He trails fingers down my back. “Did he hurt you, princess?”

“A little. I might need some stitches in my foot, but it can wait.”

“No, it can’t.” He starts to tug me toward his SUV.

“Rage. Stop.” Silver stands in my path. “We have to dispose of the body and make sure there’s no trace of what happened or any way to link it to you.”

“Do what you have to do,” Elliott says quietly. “Daniil will square things up with you.”

He hesitates. “The last one was a freebie because it was my daughter. This one is free because…” He makes a face. “I mean, a fucking website to teach men how to rape? I can’t with that shit.” Then his expression hardens. “But if there’s a third time—we’ll have to talk.”

“If there’s a third time, I hope it has nothing to do with me,” Elliott says quietly.

“Let me take Luna to the hospital,” Grim says, joining us. “You need to get cleaned up and can join us there. You’re covered in blood.”

“Take off your clothes,” Silver says, turning to Nitro. “You have anything he can change into?”

Nitro laughs. “Not that’ll fit his big ass.”

“I have clean clothes in my truck,” Rage says.

“Take off everything, even your skivvies, and let me have them.” He hands him a bottle of water. “Try to wash off as much blood as you can. Then go to your hotel and shower.”

He nods. “Got it.” Then he looks at me. “You’ll be okay for a little longer?”

“I’ll be fine with Landon.”

He kisses me, hard, and then turns and walks over to his SUV. 

“Let’s go.” Grim touches my arm. “You need to have that foot looked at.”

I don’t want to leave Elliott, but I know this is what we have to do to make sure he doesn’t get arrested. 

I watch for a minute as he pulls off his shirt, his sweats, his socks and shoes. 

This is a little intimidating and now that I know he’s safe, I’m starting to crash, the last twenty-four hours finally catching up to me.

And the moment I get into Eric’s SUV, I’m out.

Between stitches, a tetanus shot, and an IV of antibiotics, I spend several hours at the hospital. Landon comes up with a story about me being clumsy that seems to satisfy hospital personnel, and I manage to doze on and off until Elliott arrives. He sits beside me without saying much of anything until I’m finally released.

It’s late in the day and I’m starving but far too tired to go anywhere, so we swing through a drive-through and I eat my chicken sandwich in a handful of bites. Then I nibble on fries as Elliott heads for home. I had Landon text him that I wanted to sleep in either his bed or mine tonight, not a hotel, so he packed up our things and brought them with him. And now we’re on our way to Temecula. Home. I don’t know if we’re going to his place or mine, and I don’t care.

“You want to talk?” he asks as he merges onto the highway.

“It depends on what you want to talk about.”

“Us.”

“What about us?”

“The fact that I told you I loved you and you didn’t say it back.”

I hesitate.

I know what he said, but it was an emotional moment. I don’t expect him to run away with me if I have to start over again. 

“I love you, Elliott, but I don’t think it’s realistic for you to go into WITSEC with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” I can’t really think of a specific reason why. I can think of twenty random reasons but they all sound dumb even in my head. “You’re a part owner of Shadow Security.”

“So are you.”

“Daniil and I have a contingency in place for something like this.”

“Then he and I will work something out too. I own two houses I can sell so we’ll have plenty of money to start over. I’ll re-invest the money I invested in Shadow Security into something else. I could get my PI license and do that for work. You could probably tell the program you want a teaching degree and you could teach computer science at a high school or something.”

“Have you actually put thought into this?” I demand incredulously.

“Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I thought it would be easier if I didn’t drag you down with me.”

He reaches across the center console and grabs my hand. “Luna. Would you please knock it off? I’m a grown ass man who’s lived a lifetime. I can decide how I want to spend my future.”

“You’d be miserable without Grim.”

“I’d be more miserable without you.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I just squeeze his hand. “I love you,” I whisper. “More than anything. That’s why I don’t want to ruin your life.”

“The only thing that would ruin my life is living it without you.”

“I love you,” I say again. “More than anything.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“I don’t want to have to start over,” I admit softly. “I want to fight to stay.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. And I promise—Daniil won’t be willing to let us go without a fight.”

“But what if they come after me?”

“There’s a copy of the list in the vault at the royal palace in Limaj. I think we have some pretty serious evidence that they don’t want released. My guess is, Daniil is going to have a conversation with Director Marchmont. Anything happens to you and me, that list goes public. He leaves you alone, we leave him alone.”

“You think that would work?” I ask.

“If anyone can make it work, Daniil can.”

I close my eyes and send up a soft prayer into the universe.

I don’t want to leave the wonderful life Elliott and I have started to build at Shadow Security, and I sure as hell don’t want to start over again.

“Get some rest, princess. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Epilogue

Rage

A month later

I sit on the edge of the bed waiting for Luna to come out of the bathroom. We’re at her place tonight, but we’re in the process of moving. My lease was month-to-month so I’ll be out of there by the end of the week. We’ll live here until I can sell my house in the Keys. That should bring in enough money for a hefty down payment on either a condo or house somewhere in Sage Canyon, but we’re fine for the moment.

It’s been a busy few weeks since everything went down in L.A., and it seems like we’ve come out of it mostly unscathed. Luna’s foot has been healing more slowly than she’d like, but it’s finally to a point now where she can put a shoe on it. 

The biggest thing is that Daniil worked his magic. He didn’t give us any details—said it was safer that way—but he essentially worked out a deal just the way I thought he would. They’ll leave Luna alone as long as that list stays locked up tight. It’s not a perfect solution, because they should pay for what they’ve done, but that’s a fight for another day.

Today, Luna is safe, we don’t have to leave California, and we’re surrounded by the family we chose to build our life with. 

And we’re about to find out if our family is going to grow by one.

Except I have a surprise for her before we find out.

I look up when she comes out of the bathroom. She has a small white piece of plastic in her hand, and her eyes are locked on mine. I hold out my hand and she puts the pregnancy test in it. 

“One more minute,” she says quietly, sinking down beside me. 

“Either way, we’ll be fine.”

She nods.

We decided to take a test because she’s been tired lately. More than usual. And yesterday she woke up puking. It didn’t happen today, but we decided to buy a couple of tests anyway. 

Before I look at the test, I pull the ring out of my pocket and get on one knee.

She stares in confusion. “Elliott? What are you…”

“Will you marry me, princess?”

“I…” She appears to be speechless. “Oh, Elliott.” Her eyes fill with tears. “It’s beautiful—yes!” She drops down to her knees in front of me and presses her lips to mine. “A million times yes.”

I smile, sliding the ring on her finger. “Allora helped me pick it. You sure you like it? We can change it.”

“It’s what…two carats?”

I cough lightly. “Three.”

“Elliott!” She shakes her head. “I don’t need a diamond this big!”

“My princess needs a diamond worthy of her—and this was the ring.”

“I love it,” she admits, staring down at it. “But not as much as I love you.”

Luna

“I love you too,” he says. “Whether we’re pregnant or not, you’re all I need, Luna.”

“You make me so happy, Elliott Rageis.”

“That’s the plan.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You ready?”

I shake my head. “No. But you should probably look anyway. I don’t think I can.”

“All right, honey.” He reaches for the test and stares down at it. It’s the kind that actually shows the words, either “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant,” so there’s no way for him to be confused. 

But he doesn’t move and I begin to get a sinking feeling in my gut

He turns his hand and shows me the results: NOT PREGNANT.

It flashes up at me almost mockingly and I swallow down my disappointment. 

“We’re not pregnant,” I say sadly.

“No.” He pulls me close to his side and kisses my forehead. “But it’s okay. It’ll happen.”

“I know.” I don’t know any such thing, but I’m trying not to let this disappointment overshadow the fact that the most amazing man I know just asked me to marry him.

“The bad news, obviously, is that you’re not pregnant. But the good news is that we can have a wild-ass party for our wedding.”

“You don’t think I’ll be pregnant by then?” I demand playfully.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Because I’m going to wear condoms for a few weeks to make sure.”

I frown. “Why would you⁠—”

“Let’s get married soon. Like, as soon as we can plan it. It won’t be huge, but I asked Daniil if we could have it at the palace in Limaj. He talked to his cousin, the king, and he said yes. So my princess will have a wedding fit for real royalty. What do you think of that?”

My mouth falls open again, and then I snap it shut.

“Yes, yes, fucking yes.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. “Take me to bed, fiancé.”

“Gladly.” He scoops me up and tosses me on the bed with a twinkle in his eye. “Last one to get undressed gets a spanking.”

I wiggle my ring finger in his direction, pretending I didn’t hear him. “Hey, did you hear the news? I got engaged!”

“Yeah, who’s the lucky guy?”

I drop my voice dramatically. “You ever hear of Rage the Cage? He used to be this fighter. Now he’s the love of my life.”

He grins. “He sounds like a lucky man.”

Thank you for reading Elliott and Luna’s story—I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Would you like a little more? Click here for a bonus epilogue! Then turn the page to see what’s next for Shadow Security.

Chaos (Shadow Security, Book Three)

*Excerpt is unedited and subject to change.

Chapter One

Chaos

I buried my fiancée and her son on a Wednesday. I remember because Wednesdays were her book club night and all the members arrived with a book they wanted to put in the coffin with her. Three-year-old Chance was already in there—that’s what she would have wanted—and the books made it look fussy and overwhelming, but I didn’t say anything.

Mostly, I stood there and stared.

Frozen.

Shocked.

Accepting condolences that didn’t mean anything.

Unable to process the fact that a week ago we were planning a wedding and then in the blink of an eye they were both gone.

For two weeks after the funeral, I went to the cemetery every morning to talk to her and Chance. To tell them about my day. That I missed them. That I would do anything to switch places with them.

But they didn’t hear me.

They were wherever souls go to spend eternity.

It took about that long for me to accept that there was no coming back from this.

And once I did, exactly two weeks from the day I buried them, I walked away and haven’t been back since.

I don’t think about them, I don’t talk about them, and I got rid of every single thing of theirs I possessed. Pictures, books, toys, clothes, even pots and pans—all of it was donated except for the things her mother wanted. Obviously, I let her family take anything they asked for.

Other than the ring.

I kept that, locked in a drawer that I never, ever opened. I don’t even know why. Even if I could fathom the idea of falling in love again, I certainly wouldn’t give Aubrey’s ring to someone else. But I couldn’t bring myself to sell it or even give it to her mom.

Today, I’m grumpy as hell because for one thing, it would have been her thirtieth birthday. For another, I’m only about thirty miles from the cemetery. I’ve been here for two months and I still haven’t gone.

Setting foot in that cemetery would be like ripping open a wound.

I can’t.

My demons already haunt me day and night. Going to see them, talk to them again, would be like throwing the last two years of healing out the window.

But today is my day off.

I’m also so damn close and out of excuses.

Aubrey wouldn’t be upset—she understood everything about me, including my dark side—but she might be a little disappointed.

I grab my keys and step out of my hotel room, running right smack into Lacy.

Lacy Fontaine, the gorgeous movie star I’ve been protecting as part of my current assignment with Shadow Security.

“Oh, sorry!” She looks up with a soft, apologetic smile.

Today is Sunday, and everyone is off. It’s also raining buckets so I didn’t expect to see anyone out and about.

“Where are you off to?” I ask curiously.

“I’m going to Serena’s. There’s a hockey game this afternoon and we’re all going.”  She pauses. “I asked you if you wanted to go, remember?”

I do remember.

I was in a piss-poor mood that day and I said no.

Now I’m regretting so many of my life choices.

A hockey game would be fun.

Too late, though, so I just nod. “Right, it slipped my mind. Have a good time. Do you want me to drive you?”

I normally drive her when she needs to go anywhere.

“Oh, Serena’s downstairs waiting. She came to get me. I figured you needed a day off too.”

“It’s my job to keep you safe,” I reply. “I don’t get days off.”

“And I appreciate it, but you definitely get today off. I’ll be fine.” We move toward the elevator together.

I walk through the lobby with her and see Serena’s SUV waiting right outside.

“Have a good time,” I tell her.

Serena works on the show as well, and I wave. She lowers the window and leans over. “Hey, Chris! You sure you don’t want to come to the game? I can still leave a ticket at Will Call for you?”

Serena’s husband, West McGregor, plays for the Atlanta Thunder, the local professional hockey team. I used to be a pretty big fan, so it was dumb to say no to tickets. And now I’m getting another chance.

“Uh, sure,” I say slowly. “I have a couple of errands to run but they should only take a couple of hours. What time is the game?”

“Three.” She smiles and nods. “I’ll call West now and get you a seat. You don’t mind sitting with the WAGs, do you?”

The wives and girlfriends?

Yeah, Chris Chaos is always at his best in a group of women, so I grin. “What do you think?”

Lacy rolls her eyes and gets into the SUV.

“Drive safe—I’ll see you guys at the game. And thanks, Serena.”

She nods. “Bye!”

They drive off and I watch her taillights disappear down the block.

Now it’s decision time.

Do I drive to the cemetery or not?

Come on, Chris—it’s not that hard.

Aubrey’s voice in my head is soft but firm.

But it propels me forward, into my rental SUV, and toward the highway.

***

The rain has stopped by the time I get to the rural cemetery that’s located about forty minutes north of downtown Atlanta.

I feel a chill as I pass through the gates. I’ve never liked cemeteries. They don’t scare me, but they’re a reminder of loss. Pain. Grief. Things that men like me don’t like dwelling on because they’re not tangible.

Revenge is an actionable item.

I can think about ways to make Aubrey and Chance’s killer pay—assuming I ever find him. He’s managed to evade police for more than two years, but he won’t evade me for much longer. A private detective I hired found a clue to his identity and I sent it to Shadow Security’s cyber expert to trace for me. Hopefully, she’ll have news tomorrow.

I stopped for flowers so I carry them in my hand as I approach Aubrey and Chance’s gravesite.

Aubrey LaSalle

September 5, 1996 – July 1, 2024

Chance LaSalle

December 7, 2020 – July 1, 2024

“Hey, Aubrey.” I squat down and start arranging the flowers in a vase that’s already there. Her mother comes sometimes, so I imagine that’s where it came from. “I know, it’s been too long. I’m sorry.”

I pause like I’m waiting for a response.

“It’s been a rough couple of years without you. Every birthday, anniversary—they gut me. I don’t know how to live without you. I’m trying but all I care about is revenge. I’m going to find him, honey. I hope you know that.”

I sit there for a while, wondering what she would say if she were here.

It’s on the tip of my tongue ask her how she likes the coffin I chose, and I do a quick head shake. I’m starting to lose my mind. Who the fuck likes a coffin? I want to know if she’s warm enough, if it’s okay that she and Chance are in there together—is it too hot in summer?

Jesus.

I need to remember that she doesn’t feel anything anymore. Nothing good, nothing bad, nothing at all. I can only hope she’s in the proverbial better place even though she was not at all religious. I did my best to honor her wishes even though I didn’t know what they were since we didn’t think about or discuss death. Who thinks about end-of-life planning in their twenties?

Not us.

I straighten up and stare down at the tombstone, my vision blurring with tears I’ve never allowed to fall. Not once. I can’t. I’m terrified that once they start, they’ll never stop. The way I haven’t stopped missing them.

Chance wasn’t mine biologically but he was in every way that mattered. I loved that kid as much as I loved his mother and losing them both was unimaginable.

Until I didn’t have to imagine it because it happened.

Out of nowhere, the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I freeze.

I’m a mess when it comes to Aubrey and Chance, but I’m a former military man and what’s considered an elite bodyguard, with skills that very few people have. That’s why Shadow Security hires me.

So when I sense danger, it’s often a physical reaction.

I don’t move, though, spending a few seconds taking in my surroundings. The rain has stopped but it’s still dark and overcast—another storm is moving in.

There’s an elderly couple about a hundred feet away, kneeling by a grave, talking softly.

The hum of a lawn mower in the distance tells me cemetery employees are taking advantage of the break in the weather.

Otherwise, there’s relative silence.

An occasional insect buzz, cars in the distance, nothing out of the ordinary.

Except there is something.

I just can’t put my finger on it.

Pulling out my keys, I act natural, like I’m not high alert.

I glance off to the north and there’s nothing unusual as far as the eye can see.

Then to the east, where I see the elderly couple.

I turn to the south.

And that’s when I see him.

Dark figure in a raincoat or something that covers most of him.

It’s far too warm in Georgia this time of year for a coat like that.

I can’t make out his features but I know he’s watching me. And now he knows I’m watching him.

He stares for a beat, slowly lifts his hand, and then turns, disappearing around the bend.

Did that motherfucker just shoot me a bird?

Well, we’re about to find out.

I take off in the direction he went, running faster than I ever have in my life.

For more information about CHAOS, go to my website:

www.KatMizera.com

Also by Kat Mizera

Pucks & Penalties:

Penalty Kiss

Chasing Love

Saving Forever

Scoring Destiny

Holiday Bliss

Shadow Security:

Grim

Rage

Chaos

Havoc

L.A. Phantoms:

Play Hard (formerly Hit ‘em Hard)

Power Play

Foul Play

Play Book

Playoff

Play Dirty

Fair Play

The Gamebreakers (with Elise Faber):

Icebreaker

Heartbreaker

Dealbreaker

Rulebreaker

Oathbreaker

Crimson Edge:

Edge of Forever (A Crimson Edge Prequel Novella)

Living on the Edge

Edge of Heaven

Over the Edge

Lauderdale Knights:

Knight Before Christmas (A Garland Grove/Lauderdale Knights holiday novel and prequel)

Slap Shot

Big Shot

Long Shot

Hot Shot

Sure Shot

Rough Shot

Shot at Love (Novella, book 6.5)

Cheap Shot

Holiday Shot (Novella, book 7.5)

Body Shot

Clear Shot

Wild Shot

Rock Hard:

Play

Pause

Rewind

Fast Forward

Slow Motion (A Rock Hard Novella)

Rock Harder:

Rock Bottom

Rock God

Rock Steady

Rock On

Rock Encore

Royal Protectors:

Sandor

Cocky Protector (book 1.5, part of the Cocky Heroes Club series)

Xander

Gunnar (book 2.5)

Axel

Royally Protected (book 3.5)

Dax (A Royal Protectors/Sidewinders crossover novel)

Cooper

Daniil

Las Vegas Sidewinders:

Dominic

Cody’s Christmas Surprise

Drake

Karl

Anatoli

Zakk

Toli & Tessa

Brock

Vladimir

Royce

Nate

Sidewinders: Ever After

Jared

Dmitri’s Christmas Angel

Ian

Dax (A Royal Protectors/Sidewinders crossover novel)

Suze’s Diary (A Sidewinders Companion Novella)

Sidewinders: Generations:

Zaan

Tore

Anton

Van

Decker

Alaska Blizzard:

Defending Dani

Holding Hailey

Winning Whitney

Losing Laurel

Wedding Whitney (A Blizzard Short Story)

Saving Sara

Chasing Charli

A Very Blizzard Christmas

Blizzard Babies (A Blizzard Short Story)

Tending Tara

Calling Cassie

Playing Peyton

Catching Lana (An Alaska Blizzard Companion Novel)

The Royal Trilogy:

Nowhere Left to Fall

Nowhere Left to Run

Nowhere Left to Hide

Inferno:

Salvation’s Inferno

Temptation’s Inferno

Redemption’s Inferno

Tropical Inferno (formerly “Tropical Ice”)

Romancing Europe:

Adonis in Athens

Smitten in Santorini

Lucky in Lugano

St. Louis Mavericks (with Brenda Rothert)

Hard Fall

Hard Limit

Hard Pass

Hard Luck

Hard Hit

View Kat’s entire collection of books at www.KatMizera.com

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Kat Mizera was born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of wanderlust. She's lived from coast to coast, and everywhere in between, but home is wherever her family is. 

A devoted mom and wife to her wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max), Kat loves to travel the globe with her adventurous, hockey loving family. Greece is at the top of that list. She hopes to one day retire there, spending her days writing books on the beach.

Kat is former freelance sports writer who now writes steamy hockey romance about her favorite fictional teams, the Las Vegas Sidewinders and the Alaska Blizzard. The library of novels she's penned also include sexy contemporary stories about baseball stars, alpha sex club owners, special forces heroes, rock stars and royalty. Regardless of genre, her books about bad boys with hearts of gold will steal your breath, rock your world and melt your heart.

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