“No. It disoriented me—don’t know how long I huddled next to my car. When I looked up, the Japanese guy who was with Naomi stood by my bumper, making sure I saw him. That scared me, so somehow I got into my car, locked the doors, and called Shiori.”
He would not add to her misery and ask her why she hadn’t called him. Would. Not.
Amery lowered herself back to the pillows and closed her eyes.
“How bad does it hurt?”
“More than I thought it would.” Tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes. “How can you do this, Ronin? Live with this kind of pain? They barely touched me, and I’m curled up in bed weeping like a baby.”
“Barely touched you—baby, he hit you in the face more than once.” He inhaled, still searching for a way to settle down the emotions seething inside him. “I go into the cage aware of what awaits me. You didn’t ask for this.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
He brushed soft kisses across her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her temples, that mouse under her eye. He forced himself to stay gentle when his lips reached hers. He forced himself to view the bruises marring her skin as a chance to show his love and care of her and not a reason to go into a killing rage.
Yet.
After he’d kissed every mark, he whispered, “I love you. If I could take the pain for you, I would.”
“I know. But it’s not your fault. I was feeling cocky for showing that bitch I can take care of myself, and she proved I can’t. I humiliated her; she returned the favor.” Amery cupped her hands around his face. “She knew hurting me would hurt you.”
“I’d rather suffer through a thousand concussions than see one single mark on you.”
She blinked at him. “It hurts, seeing someone you love hurt.”
That’s when he understood Amery’s standoffish behavior after seeing him beat-up. She’d felt guilty—like he felt guilty now. “What can I do for you to make this better? I’ve got a couple of pain pills left.”
“Just stay with me until I fall asleep.” She pressed her swollen lips to his. “Be here when I wake up.”
“Done.”
“And don’t kill anyone. Please. I can’t stand the thought of losing you now that I finally found you.”
“Amery, I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her cheek. “Get some rest.”
• • •
BUT Ronin did leave her. After she crashed and he was sure she’d be asleep for a while, he headed down to the dojo.
Knox and Shiori were in his office, ignoring each other, which was better than their constant sniping.
Shiori stopped pacing as soon as she saw him. “How’s Amery?”
“Sleeping. She’s shaken up and yet she somehow thinks she deserves it because she started crap with Naomi.”
“That is a load of crap.”
“Yes, it is.” Then Ronin did something that shocked himself and Shiori both. He hugged her. “Thank you for getting her here and being the cool head when you both knew I wouldn’t be.”
“So you’re not mad she didn’t call you?”
“No. I’m grateful.” Ronin stepped back, feigning a calmness he didn’t feel. “I need you to do two things for me.”
“Name them.”
“Use your resources to find out the name of Naomi’s bodyguard. Find out where she’s staying in Denver. Find out why the fuck she’s here. Find out if there’s surveillance tape on that level of the parking garage. I want to figure out who the bodyguard’s accomplice was.”
Shiori smiled. “It’d be my pleasure. What else?”
“Pick up Amery’s car and bring it back here.” He tossed Knox the keys. “You’ll have to take a limo ride, Shihan. You okay with that?”
Knox grinned. “Hell yeah. Now I’ll be thinking of places to stop, so people I know will see me climbing out of a limo.”
“Is the city dump open? Maybe we can pick up your girlfriend,” Shiori suggested.
“Ooh, good one, She-Cat. Maybe if you do everything you’re told, when you’re fifty, your grandfather will let you learn how to drive.”
Just as Ronin was about to bark, Enough, they took the back-and-forth out of his office.
Almost on autopilot, he changed into workout clothes. He wrapped his hands on his way to the training room. He knew it’d be empty this time of day. While he usually practiced in silence, focusing on the sound of his breath, gauging the pressure of his hits and kicks by the thwack and crack of his feet and fists connecting with the practice dummy, today he needed noise. Loud distortion that fueled and fed the angry clawing beast inside him.
He found the CD with the mix of music that had one commonality: every time he listened to it, he got mad. He cranked the tunes and freed the rage.
Ronin hadn’t worked his body this hard since before his last fight injury. Concentrating on the flex and release of his muscles for maximum power. Falling back on his training and becoming the persona that demanded respect and pride.
He dripped sweat. And still he pushed through. Switching from punching to kicking to jumping rope to kettle balls to practicing orchestrated falls.
During a break in the music, he glanced at the clock. An hour and a half had passed. At some point, he’d slicked his hair into a ponytail. He didn’t remember. When he hit this zone, his violent Zen, he literally lived in the moment—from punch to punch, kick to kick.
Gil knocked twice before he entered.
Godsmack’s “I Stand Alone” started, and Ronin jogged over to lower the volume. “Are you looking for me?”
“I’m looking for Terrel. Have you seen him?”
“No. Why?”
“I came early so we could grapple.”
Ronin didn’t hesitate to offer, “I’ll grapple with you.”
Gil’s face showed shock. Then trepidation. “I appreciate the offer, Sensei, but—”
“But you’re afraid. Of what? That you’ll kick my ass? Or that you won’t?”
“I, ah . . .” Gil sighed. “Don’t put me in this position.”
“What position? I’m offering to grapple with you. That’s it. I do it with my guys all the time.”
Gil stared at him for a long moment before he nodded. “Come up to the ABC training room.”
Ronin wanted to ask what was wrong with this training room. But he realized his instructors would start showing up before too long, and chances were good they’d put a stop to the practice. “I’ll grab my gi.”
It was quiet on the third floor except for the office, where he heard Katie yakking on the phone. Didn’t sound like a business call. But she’d settled into being a decent worker, so he’d let it slide. Besides, he’d scare her in his current frame of mind.
Gil was doing warm-ups. Ronin watched him with a critical eye. He hadn’t grappled with any of the ABC guys except for Blue, and most of that fight was a blur.
When Gil motioned he was ready, Ronin bowed at the edge of the mat and stepped on.
“Standard tournament rules.”
They bowed to each other.
Like Ronin expected, Gil immediately went for the takedown. So he let it happen and ended up in guard. In most cases, top position had control. He intended to show Gil that wasn’t always true.
And prove it he did.
First round, he’d put Gil in a headlock.
Second round, he’d locked Gil into an arm bar.
Third round, he’d maneuvered Gil into a rear choke.
They circled each other, ready for round four.
Terrel interrupted. “I’m fifteen minutes late and y’all start without me? That shit sucks.”
Terrel was normally so quiet, Ronin had heard him speak only once. He had twenty pounds, several inches and belt levels on the guy, but he tossed out, “I think I wore Gil out.”
“Great. Now who’m I gonna grapple with?”
He stood and said, “Me. And you’d better bring it.”