Page 25 of Filthy Little Regrets (Princes of NYC #2)

“Gym. Now,” Mace snaps, unbuttoning his suit jacket, tugging it off, and tossing it to the floor in the same careless way he’s thrown the phones. The five-thousand-dollar tux is pennies to him.

“This’ll be fun.” Crue rolls his neck, stretching side to side, before standing and sauntering into the hallway.

What is happening?

Dare’s hand on Mace’s chest is the only thing that’s keeping him from storming after him. Remy scrubs his hand over his face, looks at Mace, shakes his head, and glances at me and Rose.

“Do you guys want to come with me? ”

“And miss Crue getting his ass kicked?” Rose asks. “Absolutely not. Come on.” She grabs my hand and drags me after Crue.

“What’s going on?”

“Crue thinks he can kick Mace’s ass. They decided to test that theory.”

My gaze flies over my shoulder, meeting Mace’s. His nostrils flare, jaw muscles rippling as Dare speaks into his ear. He notices me, but that only seems to piss him off more.

I scowl at him. “What the fuck is his problem?”

Rose glances back, smirks, then shoots me a knowing look. “Crue flirted with you.”

“I didn’t reciprocate.”

She stops and turns, grabbing my hand. “I’m going to hold your hand when I tell you this. Your husband is going to be a jealous, possessive monster, but once you let him in, you’ll come to love that part of him.”

“Speaking from experience, I see.”

She glances at the guys. “Dare and Mace aren’t so different. They’d both kill for the people they love.”

I blow out a breath. “This is all so comforting.”

“I support you being sad or mad right now. I was pissed, as you know. I hope you two can grow to love one another because...that type of love is life-changing.”

“Or a little toxic.”

“Red is my favorite color,” she whispers. “Now, come on.” She heads toward the hallway Crue had disappeared down.

The fine hairs on my body rise the moment Mace steps into the hall.

A ripple of adrenaline surges through me as he closes in.

Warning bells go off inside my head. I don’t know how I know it, but he’s coming straight for me.

Though I force myself to focus on what’s in front of me, electricity dances along my spine with every foot he erases between us.

My instincts scream at me to run. It’s too late, though.

A strong arm snakes around my waist. Mace’s hard front presses into my back, stopping me in my tracks and caging me against him.

His muscles are tense. None of that violence he wants to rain down on Crue bleeds into the way he holds me. He’s almost...gentle.

“I need to speak with my wife.”

Rose turns, fingers still threaded through mine. “Cassia?” God, I love her. She won’t let him tell her what to do. Dare stops at her side, pulling her into his arms. Scary husband privileges must be nice.

“It’s okay,” I tell her.

She’s reluctant to leave, but Dare whispers something in her ear that has her face flushing bright red and she turns without another word, slipping into Mace’s massive home gym. Remy follows.

“Go upstairs.” Mace’s voice is a low and deep whisper in my ear.

My face scrunches. “What? Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Uh. I think the fuck not. Spinning in his hold, I push on his chest so I can glare up at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Pupils blown wide, his eyes are nearly black, and I can’t help feeling like his shadows have come out to play. Whatever terrible memories he tries to hide are bleeding through. “I’m serious,” he says. “Go upstairs.”

I rise onto my tiptoes, raking my nails through his hair and pulling the same way he did to me. “How about...” I graze my lips over his. “ No . ”

His palm swats my ass. It’s not hard, but it is surprising enough that I screech, accidentally yanking his hair.

“Fuuuuck.”

My eyes narrow at the groan. Is this asshole enjoying the pain? I immediately let go. “I’m staying.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

Falling back onto my heels, I stare at him. “You’re serious.”

He nods.

“You know, I was stupid earlier. I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad marrying you, but obviously that was wrong.”

Features hard as marble, he gazes down at me, arms tightening around my middle. “You want to watch?”

I shrug. “Everyone else is.”

“Fine. Watch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Releasing me, he strides around me and heads into the gym.

Someone’s moody.

With a heavy exhale, I head into the gym. Remy, Dare, and Rose are sitting off to the side of the mat on a bench. Rose’s eyes find mine in question. I roll my eyes and take a seat beside her, smoothing out the dress and focusing on the men prowling around one another.

Crue is grinning like a maniac.

Mace’s features are void of any emotion. I tip my head. Where did all that anger go?

“Come on, Wolf!” Crue taunts. “Let’s see what you got.”

There’s that nickname again. I have a second to wonder why people call him that before Mace slips behind him. Crue spins, throwing a punch that Mace easily dodges. They play this game of cat and mouse, back and forth, each one taking advantage of the other, but none of the hits land .

“This might be the lamest fight I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.

“This is the warm-up,” Dare says, forearms resting on his thighs as he watches his friends.

A few seconds later, they stop fucking around and Crue throws a fist that’s so fast it’s a blur, but Mace somehow dodges it and slams his own into his friend’s ribs.

Crue laughs and does a combo move. When his knuckles connect with Mace’s jaw, Mace simply shakes his head and surges forward, slamming into Crue’s torso and taking him to the ground.

Crue grunts when Mace punches him in the same spot.

Mace doesn’t make a sound.

He’s focused. Movements smooth and precise. Elegant violence. They struggle on the ground for a bit, but Crue manages to get out from under him, kicking to his feet and spitting out blood.

“Aw, come on, puppy, you’re going to have to do better than that!” Crue shouts.

“Fucking idiot,” Remy mutters, leaning forward like Dare. Both of them look half ready to intervene.

I frown at them, then focus on the fight.

For all Crue’s taunting, Mace is strangely silent.

The lack of response is kind of scary. Everything is locked away.

I purse my lips. Has he been repressing this part of him the whole time I’ve known him?

Whether he’s being sarcastic or mad, Mace is usually animated.

You can tell what he’s thinking or feeling, but right now, it’s like he’s a dog set on the hunt.

He closes on his friend, knocking away fists, dodging knees.

Fully on the defensive, even though he could easily take the advantage.

He’s waiting for an opening. I realize this right as Crue stumbles.

Mace strikes like a viper. Fast and deadly.

His fists connect with temple, jaw, ribs, gut in rapid succession.

Crue’s arms cover his head and ribs, protecting himself from the worst of it, but Mace sends a fist up between his arms, right into the bottom of his jaw.

Crue’s head snaps back, arms falling out of position.

I expect that to be the end of it, but Mace doesn’t relent. He’s a blur, raining down punch after punch until Crue staggers on his feet.

For some reason, the idiot is grinning. “Told you I’d kick your ass.”

Mace doesn’t respond. He simply cocks his fist and sends it straight into Crue’s jaw.

The hit sends him spinning around before he drops to the floor with a heavy thud.

Dare and Remy surge off the bench, catching Mace before he can climb on top of Crue.

Mace resists their hold, dragging them across the mat, continuing his pursuit of Crue.

Dare grunts and digs his heels in.

“Fuck, Mace,” Remy snaps, doing his best to stop him.

Though Mace can’t shake them off, he’s strong enough to pull them across the mat, drawing them close enough to launch a foot at Crue’s face.

Crue’s head snaps back, blood following in an arc of crimson in the air. A big glob lands on the mat in front of me with a splat .

My hand flies to my mouth.

Rose sucks in a breath. “Oh my god.”

Mace moves to repeat the kick. Crue’s face is more than bloodied and bruised.

When the swelling starts, he’s going to look like a purple balloon.

Another kick to the face might mean a hospital trip.

I doubt either of them really wants that.

Mace is too lost in whatever thrall has taken over him to listen to his friends, who are yelling his name.

I bolt to my feet. “STOP! ”

Mace stiffens, shoulders rising and falling, but his pants are as quiet as he was during the fight. That type of silence doesn’t come naturally. What happened to him?

I don’t wait to see if he’ll turn around. I run out onto the mat, stepping between him and where Crue lies, groaning on the mat. There’s not a trace of blue in Mace’s eyes now. They’re pure black. Disconnected from reality. He looks at me, some awareness flickering across his face.

“Stop,” I say again, staring his darkness dead-on. Despite all the warning signs, I’m not scared of him. There’s something about his danger that beckons me closer. Daring me to reach out and test fate. “You’ve made your point.”

Mace stops struggling, but Remy and Dare still hold on to him. “I’m good,” he says.

“Cassia. Go to Rose.” Dare’s voice is full of warning, his forehead lined and the vein in his neck popped out from how hard he and Remy are holding on to Mace.

Mace’s gaze slices toward his friend in accusation. “I said I’m good.”

Dare nods. “I know that, but she’s standing in front of Crue, and he’s going to say something stupid.”

“Fucking hell,” Crue whines on the mat. “I think he broke a rib.”

“You deserved it, dumbass,” Remy mutters.

“I wasn’t actually flirting with her,” Crue says between pants. “We all know she’s hot, I was just stating the obvious.”

“Crue! Shut the fuck up!” Dare shouts.

It’s so loud, I flinch, even though he’s not yelling at me.

Mace sees the reaction and yanks out of his friend’s hold.

They move toward him again but back off when he comes my way.

My heart is hammering when he stops a foot away from me, violence rolling off him in waves, none of it meant for me.

His chest is heaving, pupils still blown wide. I warned you , the look seems to say.

I lift an eyebrow. I’m not afraid of you .

With a scoff and a shake of his head, he brushes by me. Everyone is on edge, waiting for him to leave before they can breathe easy. I turn, watching Dare and Remy help Crue up, then glance at Rose.

I guess she’s not the only one with a scary husband.