Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3) (21 page)

“If you want me to open up and let you in, it’s going to be on my terms. And they don’t include twice-a-week office visits. You’re going
to have to take some risks, too. No more playing it safe. I realize you’re
dealing with your own shit, and that includes some serious trust issues.
I know your ex hurt you, baby, but I can’t decide whether I want to kill him or thank him, because that bastard sent you running into my arms that night, and I haven’t been able to let you go since.”

God help her . . . did Nikko have any idea he was melting her heart? He was just speaking from his, and for a man who lived his life so closely guarded, so closed off from anyone and everything, he had no idea what this meant to her or the progress he was making toward healing. She’d told herself she needed to stay professional, to focus on helping him, but maybe that was just her excuse to protect herself. If she could control the relationship, then she wouldn’t get hurt.

“And if I refuse?” she asked, scared as hell to take this step. The last time she’d trusted a man it’d nearly destroyed her—her self-esteem, her reputation, her career . . . She wasn’t sure she was willing to put it all on the line again. Her heart screamed yes while her head shouted no.

“Then it was really nice knowing ya, Violet. But either way, I’m done with the psychotherapy.”

That was it? He’d just walk away from her like none of this ever happened? In her heart she knew the answer. He absolutely would. It’s what he’d done this whole last week. If she hadn’t come after him, they still wouldn’t be speaking. Nikko was laying his cards on the table and hijacking this relationship. It was his way or the highway. What was she going to do? The thought of taking this step with him terrified her. The idea of never seeing him again broke her heart.

“If we do this, I can’t be your therapist anymore. What about the CFA? If you’re not going to your appointments, you can’t train. What if they cancel your contract?”

He shrugged. Reaching up, he tucked a fallen lock of hair behind her ear, his silver-gray eyes holding hers. “I don’t think they’ll do that. If Coach was going to cut me, he’d have done it before now. I’ll talk to him, tell him I need to take a month off. When your partner gets back, I’ll come back to the gym and start training again. I don’t have any fights scheduled, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Some time off might be kinda nice. It’ll give me a chance to focus on something other than fighting for a change.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He reached for her, slipping his gloved hand behind her neck, pull
ing her into the heavy bag separating them. His eyes held hers in an impenetrable stare. Her pulse quickened as butterflies erupted in her stomach. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to do this . . .

“Like you and me.”

His husky voice was an auditory caress. He tipped his head, leaning around the bag, tugging her closer. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it in the crackle of energy firing between them, see it in the sapphire darkening his eyes. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, nervously moistening the plump flesh. A hungry growl chortled in Nikko’s throat that she felt all the way to her toes. Her eyes flittered closed, lips parting in breathless anticipation of his kiss. Bracing against the bag, she rose to her tiptoes to meet him halfway. Just as his mouth touched hers, the door swung open behind them, and Violet jumped, jerking out of his grasp.

Muttering a nasty curse, Nikko stepped back.

“Del Toro!”

She startled at the shout barked across the room.

“There you are . . .” Dean strode toward them. “I was looking for you.” When he came closer where he could see around the bag, he stopped short, looking surprised. “Dr. Summers? What are you doing here? We don’t have a meeting this morning, do we?”

Shit
. . . “Um . . . not officially, but I was in the area and had some forms to drop off.” She lifted the manila envelope.

“Ahh . . .” he said, nodding as if that explained everything. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you and Del Toro.”

Violet’s mouth suddenly went dry. And when she tried to swallow, she couldn’t get her saliva past the lump of
oh, shit
stuck in her throat. “You do?” she squeaked.

“How’s our boy doing since we last met? You getting his head back on straight?”

She flinched at Dean’s insensitive remark, a scowl of disapproval tightening her brows in defense of Nikko. But he didn’t need anyone to stand up for him, and she could see he was pissed. That telltale whitening of the scar on his cheek should have cued Dean in to just how close he was to getting punched in the face. Talk about a career killer . . .

“He’s doing fine,” she cut in, stepping between the two men. “I’m very pleased with the direction things are going.” She hoped Nikko would pick up on what she was really saying, and the encouragement would diffuse his brewing anger.

“That’s good, that’s really good . . . He’s a hell of a fighter. We’d hate to lose him.”

Dean clasped Nikko on the shoulder and squeezed. “I just got off the phone with Marcus. I’ve had an opportunity come up that I need to discuss with you. One of my heavyweights slotted to fight Viper next month just went out on a medical—incarcerated hernia. Needed emergency surgery, and he’s going to be out a minimum of six weeks. I gotta find another fighter to take his place. Naturally, I thought of you. You’re cage ready and pound for pound the most equally matched to stand against Viper. I know that the league suspended you for six months, but I think I can get them to waive the sanction as long as Dr. Summers approves it. Of course, you’ll have to continue your therapy, and Dr. Summers will need to provide weekly progress reports. So what do ya say, Del Toro? You want to get back in the cage?”

This wasn’t happening . . . And yet here Dean was, offering Nikko the opportunity to fight. If he didn’t step up and take this match, he could be dealing a deathblow to his career, and there was no way Violet wanted to be part of that. This was his chance to earn favor with his boss and regain some of the ground he’d lost. He had to take this fight.

Dean stood there waiting for Nikko to say something. Why wasn’t he saying anything? She glanced at him, looking for answers and finding none in his silence. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited to hear his decision. She knew how much he wanted this fight, how much he needed it. She wouldn’t be the reason his career failed. She could never live with herself if that happened.

“Well . . . ?” Dean asked, looking between the two of them, clearly perplexed that Nikko would even have to think about it.

He still wasn’t talking, so she forced the words out of her mouth, “I’ll be happy to submit whatever reports you need to get Nikko’s suspension lifted.”

Surprise flashed in Nikko’s eyes, and they narrowed on her. He didn’t look happy she was stepping up.

“Excellent! Thank you, Dr. Summers. I knew I could count on you. Nikko, what do you say? You wanna fight?”

His steely glare never left her as he growled, “I’ll fight,” leaving Violet to wonder if he meant in the cage or for her . . .

I
knew I could count on you, Del Toro. Come by my office and I’ll have a training schedule ready for you. Marcus spoke with Easton, and he’s going to be working with you. Easton also has a fighter coming in from Minneapolis—Tommy . . . something or other. He’s got his eye on signing him. A heavyweight he wants me to check out, so this will be a great opportunity to see if he can hang with the big boys. I’ve already updated your publicist. She thinks the hype they can build around this new fight will help overshadow what happened a few weeks ago. She’ll handle booking all your interviews and upcoming promotions. We’re going to have our work cut out for us reshaping your image. She thinks the best way to do that is to hire someone to pose as your girlfriend—someone to be seen with you in public and to attend the interviews and conferences.”

From the corner of his eye, Nikko saw Violet tense. The change in her was subtle—the little wrinkle between her brows, the stiffness of her spine, and the straightening of her shoulders. She rolled her lips between her teeth as if biting them was the only way to keep her protest corralled. Nikko’s therapy must be working better than he realized, otherwise he was pretty sure his fist would have smashed into Dean’s jaw by now. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Hire him a girlfriend? Like he was such a lost cause, he couldn’t get one on his own?

“I’m not going to lie,” the guy prattled on, oblivious to Nikko’s mounting anger. “Your schedule is going to be brutal over the next few weeks, but I know you can do this. Marcus agrees with me, you need this fight. It’s a big card. Whoever wins this matchup will be in contention for the heavyweight title against August ‘The Reaper’ Grimm. This is a great opportunity for you.”

Dean turned his attention to Violet, giving Nikko a better opportunity to assess her reaction. “Dr. Summers, I’m counting on you to keep him solid through this. I know our contract agreement is for biweekly sessions but I’d like to increase them to Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays if that’s all right with you. I’ll work it into his training schedule.”

“Of course,” she said stiffly. “I’ll have my secretary call your office and make the arrangements.” She stepped backward as she spoke, looking as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Clover was upset, and he couldn’t blame her. Just when he’d finally convinced her to give them a chance, Dean busts in and offers him a career-saving shot at the heavyweight title. Worst possible timing ever . . . He couldn’t make this shit up if he tried.

Well, she was just going to have to get comfortable dating her patient, because Nikko was not about to let this woman go, and he wasn’t going to put himself through a mind fuck of misery waiting for her damn partner to return before he could start seeing her—especially when he needed her now more than ever.

“I have to get going,” she said, hauling ass to the door.

Just when he was about to go after her, Dean called, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Violet stopped with her hand on the door. She didn’t turn around. “Excuse me?”

“The reason you came here . . .” Dean walked toward her. Nikko gripped the chain at the top of the heavy bag and squeezed, watching as his boss’s gaze dropped to his girl’s ass. Jealousy churned in his gut, lighting a fire in his already smoldering temper. “My file . . .” Dean said, coming up behind her.

“Oh, right . . .” She handed him the manila envelope and he reached in front of her, opening the door and getting way too close for comfort as far as Nikko was concerned.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offered. “I was just on my way to the office.”

The links of the chain bit into Nikko’s fingers as he watched his boss escorting her out of the weight room. He focused on the pain to keep his feet grounded to the mat, and waited for her to look back, but she never did. With her spine board stiff, Violet left the weight room with Dean, and Nikko closed his eyes, dropping his head to rest on the smooth leather of the heavy bag.

God help me
. . .

Dean’s hand landed at the small of Violet’s back. She flinched at the contact and quickened her pace, sidestepping his touch and praying that Nikko wasn’t watching her right now. But if he wasn’t, someone definitely was. She could feel eyes on her, but she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

What a mess . . . She couldn’t believe the CFA was going to hire Nikko a media girlfriend. As insane as that sounded, it was actually done all the time—window dressing used to generate gossip and “good” publicity. Not that that was any consolation, even if it was something Nikko was indisputably in need of. How was she going to be all right with Nikko going out with some other woman? She wasn’t. And that was just one more reason why getting involved right now wasn’t a good idea. He needed to be able to focus on his upcoming fight, to do whatever he had to do to get himself back in good standing with the CFA. She didn’t want him worrying about
a relationship right now or her bruised feelings.

She murmured good-bye to Dean, again promising to have Penel
ope
call his secretary about Nikko’s schedule, all the while swallowing
back the bitter disappointment burning the back of her throat. For the briefest moment, she’d let herself hope there could be something between Nikko and her. Even if she was willing to put her reputation
and career on the line for him, she wasn’t willing to ask him to risk his.

Vi quickened her steps as she rushed out the doors, the brisk clips of her heels becoming a sharp rap on the asphalt as she all but ran to her car. She had to get out of here. Her chest ached from her heart battering against her ribs. This was crazy. Why was she letting herself get so emotional over some guy, anyway? Because he wasn’t just some guy . . . He was Nikko Del Toro, a man who she’d fantasized over for six months, a man who was just as strong and powerful as he was broken and vulnerable, though he fought like hell to hide that part of himself.

If he only knew that was the part that had stolen her heart. It was that crack in his tough exterior, the chink in his armor that had given her the courage to reach out and take his hand on the plane, and it was that part of him now that drove her to fight so fiercely for him. She just never thought she’d be fighting against herself.

Lost in the conundrum of her thoughts, Vi was reaching for her car door when she felt someone grab her shoulder. Letting out a startled yelp, she spun around, surprised to see Cole Easton towering over her. Holy shit, he was intimidating—ice-blue eyes bored into hers.

“Sorry, I scared you, Doc.”

“It’s all right,” she said breathlessly, pressing her palm to her chest. “I’m sure my heart will start up again any minute.”

His top lip twitched, but that was the closest she was going to get to a smile. “You got a few minutes?”

“Sure . . .”

In the six months she’d done work for the CFA, her interactions with Cole Easton had been minimal. She wasn’t sure if it was the intimidating vibe he threw off, or perhaps the knowledge that he wasn’t a fan of Nikko’s, but Vi didn’t care for the fighter and preferred he kept his distance—at least a little more distance than the two feet separating them right now.

“How are things really going with Del Toro?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of Nikko’s therapy with you.”

That earned her an intimidating glower.

“I’m going to start training him for his fight with Viper, so Del Toro is my business. Before I put my boy Tommy in the cage with him, I wanna make damn sure he’s safe.”

“He’s safe to start sparring again.” She wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already said at their meeting two weeks ago. “Why are you doing it?” she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity. “Why are you training him if you don’t like him?”

“I’m training him because Coach asked me to.” Cole’s dedication to Marcus Miller was admirable. She just wished it extended to Nikko. This guy would be a hell of a fighter to have in your corner. “And I never said I didn’t like him, Dr. Summers. I like tigers, too. Doesn’t mean I trust them not to turn on me or that I’d want to stick my friend in the cage with one. Here’s the thing with Coach, he sees the good in everyone, even if it doesn’t outweigh the bad. You weren’t there that night. You didn’t see him snap. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“No, she doesn’t,” a deep voice bit out behind them. “And neither do you. So I suggest you back the fuck off right now.” Nikko’s growl carried across the parking lot as he approached them at a determined clip that sent Vi’s heart back into her throat.

Oh, no
. . .
no, no, no
. . .

Nikko was pissed, and the rage he was throwing off right now wasn’t helping to build his case for emotional stability. “You got a problem with me, you can say it to my face. I don’t need you going behind my back and dragging her into this.”

“All right, I’ll say it,” Cole said, stepping into Nikko’s path and meeting him head-on. Both men were nearly identical in height, but Nikko had about twenty pounds on him that Cole didn’t seem at all worried about. “It’s too soon. I think the press is going to have a field day with you, and you’re going to crack. The CFA can’t afford another repeat of your shit. The question isn’t if you’re good enough to fight. It’s
should
you be fighting at all. If you snap in that cage, you know what kind of liability Coach and the CFA are facing? I’m not trying to fuck you over, man. I’ve been on the wrong side of the press before. I know what it’s like, and I know how hard it is to recover from. I think Dean is setting you up for failure. All he sees are dollar signs. You aren’t ready yet. I mean, look at you . . . you’re about to rip my head off for talking to your shrink, which as
your
new coach, I have every right to do. Get your fucking shit together, Del Toro, or I swear to God I’ll break you before the press gets the chance to.”

Cole shoulder-checked Nikko as he blew past him and stormed back to the gym. The impact should have knocked him back, but Nikko didn’t budge. Violet held her breath, waiting for him to retaliate, his career flashing before her eyes, yet feeling helpless to stop it. He looked furious . . . hands clenched into fists, muscles straining with the effort being exerted to hold his rage in check.

Shit, she had to do something. Tamping down her fear, Violet took the necessary steps to reach Nikko and gently laid her hand on his bicep. His muscles leapt beneath her touch, but he didn’t pull away. “Take a deep breath and let him walk away,” she encouraged quietly. “You’re in control. You can do this. I know you’re angry at Cole, but you can’t blame him for being cautious. Part of getting better and healing is admitting your mistakes. You broke his trust. But this is your chance to prove him wrong and win it back.”

Nikko’s eyes locked on hers. As he stood there staring, so many emotions raged in those silvery depths. She felt some of the tension ease out of him and began to relax a little herself. “You have no idea how badly I want to drag his ass into that cage right now.”

“I know, but you won’t, because you’re in control. I wouldn’t put it past him to keep baiting you. He’s testing you, Nikko. He needs to see for himself that you’re getting better. He’s not just going to take my word for it.”

Nikko muttered a curse and dragged his hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

“You want to know something?” she asked.

That got his attention fixed solidly on her. She knew she had him when his dark brow arched in question.

“I’m really proud of you.”

Something flashed in his eyes that looked a lot like regret. Okaaay . . . So that was
not
the response she’d been going for, driving home the deep complexity of this man. She’d given him a simple enough compliment, and it’d been the truth. She was proud of him, especially for letting Cole walk away when he had clearly been asking for a fight.

“If you really knew me, you wouldn’t say that, Clover.”

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “How long are you going to keep letting the past define you, Nikko?”