Page 34

34

RYUJI

I waltzed into the gym earlier than normal, flipping a knife in my hand. I’d just gotten off the most annoying phone call with Alec. Someone had re-opened the investigation into what happened at Club Thunder, but our contact in the police force couldn’t tell us by whom or why.

It had to be the feds.

They were breathing down my neck, just waiting for someone to fuck up.

I knew it. I knew that explosion was going to blow back on me somehow.

I was only hoping that Alec could handle this without me needing to get more involved and that whoever had re-opened our file was either open to bribes or was bad at their job and would eventually stop caring.

I was fucking pissed, and I needed some alone time with the target range.

But of course, the universe was out to conspire against me, because the bodyguard was also in the gym.

My shoulders went tense as my eyes narrowed and my hand gripped the knife tighter.

Sweat covered the expanse of his shirt, making it stick to his back. He was watching those videos on his phone, following Willow’s physical therapy exercises for his knee. A few times before I’d walked in here to find the same, only to turn right around to come back later. Something about Leona’s bodyguard just made my hackles rise.

I looked over my shoulder at the private elevator. Leona was busy upstairs, working in Ciel’s room. I’d just seen them both hunched over his desk, pointing up at his screens before shuffling through piles of photos and papers.

I flipped my knife in my hand again, watching my face reflected across the surface.

That little demon that lived on my shoulder wanted to cause havoc. The angel on the other side had long since disappeared, so I had no one to try to convince me not to piss him off.

Today seemed like a good day to pick a fight.

I sauntered to where he worked with the resistance bands and crossed my arms over my chest. “You need to rotate your hip more.”

He didn’t even look up as he grunted, “Mind your business.”

I tilted my head to the side. “This is usually my time at the gym. You’re in my business.”

He paused the video and sat back on his thighs, but I could see how his mouth twitched in pain or exertion. It made me want to push him even more. Damn, I was feeling sassy.

“Sorry, is the room not big enough for your massive ego?”

“No.” I shook my head with a grin. “Sorry.”

He scowled but ignored me and went back to the exercise. He really did need to strengthen his range of motion more. Rotating his hip would help while he rebuilt the muscle in his leg. I’d done plenty of therapy exercises over the years after countless injuries.

But my goddamn mouth couldn’t help it. I crouched down next to him. “You should ask Leona about my massive ego .”

“What is your fucking problem?” he snarled, whirling on me. His blue eyes sparked with rage as his hands clenched into fists at his side.

It was a good question. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel the need to rile him up constantly?

I should have turned around and left right then and there.

Better yet, I should have gone back upstairs to Leona and Ciel, closed the door, and made them both have fun with me. I’d seen the way Ciel’s eyes followed me and Wynn across the room the same way they did to Leona. I knew that look, and I knew all it would take was a little pushing for him to admit he wanted us both, too. I was in the pushing mood. A good person would leave the bodyguard alone. That would have been the right thing to do.

But I’d never said I was a good person.

“Did she tell you about it?”

His eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Did she tell you how I tied her up?” I played with the tip of the knife, dragging it along my fingertips. “Did she tell you how she screamed in pleasure as I slipped into her pussy from behind?”

He gaped, face tinting red. I bit back a grin. Had I finally broken the bodyguard?

“Did she tell you how many times we made her come?” I whispered. “I think I lost count.”

He snapped. With a shout, he tackled me to the ground, fist slamming into my stomach. I still had the knife in my hand, but I didn’t want to actually kill him, so I tossed it behind us.

I didn’t fucking care that he was injured and recovering. After landing a punch of his own to my shoulder, I went for it.

I kicked his knee.

I knew I shouldn’t have, but he was so fucking annoying.

He gasped in pain and his momentary hesitation was all I needed to tussle us back over, so I had the advantage on top of his body. He groaned, eyes furrowed together, arms still swinging. I dodged one of his punches, but the other caught me solidly on the jaw. My head jerked back just as my tongue caught the metallic taste of blood.

Fucker split my lip.

I pulled my arm back, ready to slam it into his face.

But what the fuck was I doing?

In my hesitation, he leveraged his foot against my abdomen and flipped me over his shoulder, so my back smacked into the hard ground. All the air whooshed out of my lungs. I laid there, staring at the ceiling as my chest throbbed. The fight bled out of me.

He scrambled to his feet, staring down at me with heavy breaths.

“I know you try to piss me off on purpose,” he heaved, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. “But all I see is a sad, jealous asshole. You’re pathetic.”

“Jealous?” I groaned, still trying to catch my breath.

“Jealous. I can see exactly what your problem is.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“You can’t stand the idea that she is closer to me than to any of you. And you know what? She always will be. It’ll be my ring she wears on her finger. It’ll be my name at the end of hers. It’ll always be my arms she comes back to. We can play at this little group thing, but at the end of the day, she’s mine . And you can’t fucking stand that, can you?”

A ring? His name? He was going to propose to her? The fuck was he talking about? What would she say?

It didn’t matter. I wasn’t fucking jealous. There was nothing to be jealous of. She’d made it clear she wanted to be with all of us.

She wouldn’t change her mind…would she?

“Don’t read into things, bodyguard,” I hissed, sitting up. Who the fuck cared? He was an idiot. That was why he drove me crazy. “You just piss me the fuck off with your overprotective attitude.”

Everyone could see how he wanted to keep her locked up in this penthouse like a princess from a fairytale. The way he looked at her when she said she killed Kofler—and the way she’d deflated afterward—had me wanting to rage ever since.

Well, she wasn’t a princess.

She was a motherfucking queen.

And the more he tried to hold her back from that, the more likely he’d hurt her.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not controlling her. Her life is my biggest priority! You weren’t there when we were running for our lives. You haven’t been glued to her side since you were kids. She needs me to keep her safe.”

“No, but I’m sure as shit here now, aren’t I? And I’m still trying to help her grow. I’m not the one holding her back. Your idea of safety is bullshit.”

“Protecting her isn’t holding her back , it’s?—”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I snapped. “And when she gets tired of it, we’ll see which arms she runs to then. You might be her past, but we’re her future. You are not one of us.”

Silence stretched between us as we both fumed. I wiped sweat from my brow while he limped to pick up his phone.

“Fuck this shit,” he spat, turning for the elevator. He did his goddamn best, but he couldn’t hide the pain no doubt shooting down his leg.

As I watched the elevator doors close, a wave of regret twisted my gut.

Shit. Leona was going to be pissed. Not only did I fight with her bodyguard, I went for his injuries. He’d been working hard to get back to normal. I ran a hand through my hair. If I set him back…

I picked up my knife from where it still lay on the ground, ribs on fire. Yeah, that would definitely bruise.

Maybe I should have just stabbed him and gotten it over with. One way or another, we were going to kill each other.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I threw the knife at the target so hard it embedded two inches deep. I sat on the press bench with my head in my hands.

She was messing with my head. All of this was messing with my head.

Since when was I so possessive ? I cringed, nose curling. I hadn’t ever given a shit about having someone all to myself. All I cared about was making enough money to be free.

But even that wasn’t the same anymore. I wanted to name my fucking club after her.

What the hell?

None of this felt like freedom. It felt like a heavy anchor dragging me down, waiting until I drowned in the depths, or the pressure imploded my lungs. Either way, I ended up dead.

That wasn’t going to happen.

I didn’t let my dick make business decisions. I’d known that for ten years. I couldn’t get in over my head with this. It was just fun. Just play. My body wanted hers, badly . But that’s where it stopped. When things went wrong, I had my exit strategy. I had my backup plan.

“So stupid,” I groaned to the empty air. I stood and yanked my knife from the target. I’d come down here to workout, burn off some energy, and I’d do exactly fucking that.

I flicked more blades against the wall, watching as they sunk into the wood.

Motherfucker called me jealous.

I’d never been jealous in my life, and I wasn’t about to start now.

It wasn’t even that I wanted her all to myself. Obi, Wynn, and Ciel were more than welcome to join in with us.

But not him.

Who the fuck cared about their past?

Who cared that she always looked to him first? That she scrolled through pictures of them on her phone on the plane ride back to New York? That she beamed when she saw him?

That she stayed in his room last night instead of mine?

Not fucking me.

So why did I feel like a piece of shit?