The Fighter Read online

  “Doubt there’s any boxing happening on fight nights. Bare-knuckled if anything. And from what I’ve heard from the boys, they have MMA fights and-”

  He stopped short and Maggie nailed him with a look. “What?”

  A muscle ticked in her father’s jaw. “There are some cage matches too.”

  “Cage matches,” her voice softened as she considered his words. “I wasn’t… I’m not… And he’s okay, right?” Before her father could even speak she shook herself and wrapped her right arm across her body and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “The shifters have remarkable immune systems and heal up in short order.”

  She nodded. “Sure. Yeah, I got it.” She started unpacking the plates and setting them in piles on the counter. “It’s just hard to imagine someone willingly putting themselves through that kind of…” Maggie felt her words drift away. She did understand. More than she wanted to admit. Years ago, when she’d started acting out and causing trouble, she welcomed the pain that came with her choices. The pain was what reminded her that she was alive. It wasn’t a healthy association for her. She knew it, even back then, but that didn’t stop her from seeking out the pain. She only hoped that Cage wasn’t trying to fill a hole inside of himself, like she’d tried to do all those years ago.

  Tried.

  And failed.

  “Maggie?”

  She heard her father’s worried tone and realized that she’d gone a little too far down the rabbit hole.

  She didn’t even try to smile at him. Her hypocrisy did have bounds. “I forget that your men are so different than people like us. Boring humans.”

  “That’s not how they see it.” He reached into the box and pulled out a bunch of the plates, starting to separate them into stacks. “They have problems just like we do.”

  Maggie stopped unpacking the plates and gave him a suspicious look. “What is it?”

  He reached into the box for another stack of plates and gave a quick glance in her direction. “Sorry, what?”

  Leaning her hip against the counter, Maggie picked up a rag and started to wipe down the plates one by one. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  Her father tensed for a moment and then continued his work, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile.

  “Dad, you know you’re horrible at things like this.”

  “Like this?” The stack of plates that he sat down on the counter rattled a bit. “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that when you’re trying to ask me something, without actually asking me, you’re not your usual ‘take charge and kick ass’ Colonel Fordice.” She set a plate down and picked up another one. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t want to overburden you. You just moved to Sylvan City and you’ve got the diner to set up, I can’t ask you to-”

  “Dad.” She set the plate and the cloth down and walked over to her dad. “What’s going on? If I can help, I’ll help. You don’t have to worry about me.” She saw the hesitant look in his eyes. “I don’t let myself get as overwhelmed as I used to, and when I feel things getting ‘bad’ I have ways to cope. Really, Dad. Please.”

  Her father surprised her, he set the plates down and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve grown up, Maggie. You’re a strong woman.”

  She tried to ignore the missing word in his compliment. You’re a strong woman now.

  Whether or not he meant the unspoken word, she heard it in her head and knew that it was her own doing.

  For so long, every day was a struggle. Every hour an accomplishment.

  Finally, she’d gotten her head on straight, and she knew how to keep on an even keel. So, she could handle this.

  Whatever this was.

  “Well, Cage’s life has become complicated and I think you might be able to help him figure things out.”

  Whoa. Cage needing her help?

  Just the idea of spending time with him was like a double shot of espresso. It made her jumpy, but it also felt so good pushing through her veins.

  “Me? Help the big bad jaguar? Sign me up!”

  She saw her father’s hesitation. “I know you always had a certain… interest in Cage-”

  “Interest, meaning a crazy teenage crush?” She laughed and held up her hands. “Guilty as charged!”

  “Yes, well, I wouldn’t suggest this lightly. Cage has a daughter-”

  That was a sucker punch straight to the gut, but before she could manage to squeak out a question, her father filled in a few of the blanks for her. “Todd Billings, one of my men, came to us from England.”

  Maggie grinned. “Wasn’t he a… not a tiger… he was a lion.”

  He smiled back at her. “Right. He left the unit as soon as his initial enlistment ended, because his wife was pregnant, and he knew she’d have no idea of what to do if the baby turned out to be a shifter like him.” A shadow passed over his face. “He was one of my success stories, really. Got out of the unit, had a baby girl, living happily ever after until they ended up trapped between some IRA gunmen and British Police. He and his wife died that day, leaving Frances behind.”

  Maggie felt the pain of his words deep in her heart. “And now she’s with Cage?”

  Her father nodded his head. “He was surprised when he got the call from Todd’s solicitor in England, telling him that Todd had asked him to be Frances’ guardian.”

  “What did her mother’s family have to say about it?”

  Her father scoffed at the question. “They didn’t want the girl. Felt that her mother had poisoned the family’s good reputation by producing an animal… and a female to boot. They washed their hands of the child and Cage was on the next plane to England to pick her up.”

  “How old is she?”

  Again, something pulled at the corners of her father’s mouth, making his lips into a thin white line before he answered. “She’s turning sixteen next week.”

  “Oh,” Maggie rocked back on her heels, “I see.” Her shoulders shaking with silent laughter she touched her father’s arm in a gentle gesture. “She’s like me. Or how I used to be.”

  It took a long moment before her father could nod and agree. “She’s a handful. In fact,” his smile was hesitant at best, “she was arrested tonight for vandalism. She’s due in court tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Bet you thought you were done with handling a ‘Wild Child,’ huh?” She didn’t wait for an answer. As far as she was concerned, it was a rhetorical question at best. “I am supposed to be a consultant? A baby sitter?”

  “You’ll have to talk to Cage about what kind of help he needs. I just wanted to make sure you were willing to help out.” He shrugged, a gesture she really didn’t associate with her father. “I was going to head over to see him.”

  She looked up at the clock on the wall. “Isn’t it a little late, Dad?”

  He gave her a look. “He lives across the street.”

  “From me?” Maggie tried not to let her voice squeak out like she was a girl again. “I guess, I didn’t think about where he would live otherwise. Anyway, go ahead and have him come over whenever he has a minute.”

  Her father gave her one more look before he nodded and walked toward the front door. “I’ll find out when he thinks he can come over and I’ll come back and help you finish unpacking.”

  “Thanks, Dad, I could use the help.”

  He paused in the doorway and gave her a nod before he stepped out into the night.

  Chapter Two

  Cage was fresh out of the shower when someone knocked on the door. He poked his head out of the bathroom and saw Frances seated on the couch, her feet up on the coffee table. “You, ah… gonna get that?”

  She looked up from her Kindle and shook her head. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Okay.” He huffed out a breath as he wrapped this bath towel around his waist and crossed the room heading for the front door.

  “Hey, how about you get dressed?” Frances didn’t sound so happy with the situation and after dragging himself d
own to the police station, he wasn’t either.

  So, he didn’t spare a glance. “Then next time, how about you answer the door?”

  Cage could feel her eyes digging into his back.

  He peeked through the window into the darkness and leaned back laughing. The door opened easily, and Cage stepped in as he dropped his second towel over the back of his neck.

  “Wasn’t expecting you tonight, Colonel.”

  The older man gave him a hard stare. “At least call me Fordice so I don’t expect you to salute.” The words had their desired impact.

  “When I said I needed your help, I was thinking you could stop by in the morning.”

  The older man shrugged and lifted a hand to wave at Frances. She gave him a smile. Cage felt his teeth grind together. “Maybe I prefer to jump into things feetfirst?”

  Cage bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s not how you ran our unit.”

  “I’m a different man now, Cage. So are you.” Clearing his throat, he jerked a thumb at Cage’s bedroom. “Go get some clothes on. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Cage didn’t say a word heading off toward the bedroom.

  When he returned, he tried to catch Frances’ eye to let her know where he’d be, she turned away. When he stepped outside he felt a little chill from the hard wall of cold air outside but he hadn’t bothered to grab a jacket so he stuck it out, enjoying the way it sharpened his mind.

  The colonel was ready for him. “I think I have a way to help you.”

  “A lobotomy for me? Heavy drugs?”

  The older man chuckled at him. “Oh, how I remember those feelings. But I’m serious, I just might have the perfect person to help.”

  Cage’s expression spoke volumes and only served to make Joe laugh out loud.

  “I thought you trusted me, Cage?”

  “I trust you with my life, sir, but this is… different.”

  “Different,” the older man nodded thoughtfully. “Well that was a vague enough answer.”

  “If this was a matter of military tactics or weapons, there wouldn’t be a question.”

  Joe sighed. “But this is your family.”

  A muscle in Cage’s jaw ticked. “I guess that’s it, but really, it doesn’t make sense. I mean you’re family. Frances is just as much your family as she is mine.”

  Joe held up a hand and shook his head. “But I’m not the one that Todd trusted his little girl to.”

  The words weren’t a surprise, but the pang of raw emotion he felt inside his chest was.

  “He’d have done the same for me.”

  Joe nodded. “You’re a good man, Cage. You were a good leader, a good soldier. And now you’ll learn to be a good father.”

  “If I live that long.” Cage pointed back toward his apartment door.

  Joe laughed and shook his head. “If you can joke about it I’m not worried that you’ll strangle the child in her sleep.”

  “First, she’s not a child, and second, you’d be surprised what I can do while I’m laughing.” His point made, Cage leaned back against the railing. “Who is this miracle worker that you’re willing to throw to the lions?”

  From their vantage point they had a clear view across the street to the front entrance to the gym and the parking lot beyond it. The colonel inhaled a breath before he leaned both arms on the railing and lifted his chin to the corner of the block. Propped up on a solid concrete foundation was the converted railcar-turned-diner called Paulie’s. The faded red trim was worn off in places like lipstick rubbed off in a kiss.

  Before Cage could ask the first stupid question that popped into his head, something moved across a window in the diner. Not something, someone.

  Narrowing his eyes and focusing on the movement, he watched a woman cross the next bank of windows and when she stopped in front of the last pane he swore under his breath. She was gorgeous. Built like a woman in one of the pinup posters in his extensive collection, her curves would have made an hourglass envious.

  “Well she is certainly a sight for sore eyes.” Cage felt his skin warm up, every inch heating as he imagined her stepping into his arm. “You brought me out here to show me a little eye-candy, Colonel? I bet she’s got a great ass. I’m all for a good lay, but that won’t solve my problems with Frances.”

  His gut-laugh went silent as he turned to look at the older man. Leaning against the post, retired Colonel Jay Fordice looked like he wanted to rip Cage’s throat out with his bare hands.

  “What?” Cage felt an unease deep in his middle. “What’s wrong?”

  “That piece of eye-candy may just have a great ass, but I haven’t looked. It would be a little odd for me, seeing as how she’s my daughter.”

  Cage stood there, silently wondering how he’d manage to apologize and keep most of his teeth. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

  “You’re a sorry son-of-bitch, Cage. But I’m just going to trust that you’ll keep your damn hands to yourself when you go over there and talk to her. Even though I’m questioning whether or not you deserve her help, she’s going to be the best thing that ever happened to you… and don’t you forget it.” With a huff, the older man made a dismissive wave in Cage’s direction. “Now go, talk to Maggie. I’m going to stay here with Frances.”

  Cage wasn’t sure he’d be able to look the girl in the eye now. He certainly was going to have an issue looking in the Colonel’s. “Yes, sir.”

  He didn’t bother grabbing his boots before he jogged down the steps and across the street. With his sensitive hearing he didn’t have to look up and down the street to know that it was safe. The cold of the asphalt was a shock to the skin on the bottom of his feet, but it wasn’t painful. He stepped up onto the curb and stopped short.

  Inside the old diner, he saw Maggie pulling her hair into some kind of a twist and fixing it in place with a big clip. The movement raised her breasts and he watched the way the cloth moved over her curves. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was… his.

  Ours.

  Shit. He gave his jaguar a mental shake. Down.

  Maggie Fordice is not my mate.

  Yes, she is.

  And just like that, he went from fucked to royally fucked.

  When the front door opened, Maggie was just starting to wipe down another table set up along the front wall. “Back so soon, Dad?” She laughed and leaned all the way into the booth to give the table top a strong wipe down. “Is Cage coming down to see me tomorrow?” She moved a little bit further and braced one hand on the back of the booth as she wiped big circles across the old Formica table top.

  Her movements were killing him. The long-distance look he’d gotten through the window had only shown him how gorgeous she was from the front. The view from the back was enough to make him certifiably insane. Her jeans were worn and perfectly sized, nipping in at the waist, flaring over her gorgeous hips and down over her thighs.

  As he stared at her curvaceous backside rocking over and over toward the table as she wiped the surface down, it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her.

  His jaguar was a creature of instinct and need, and what it needed was to bury itself into her body. He could see it in his head.

  Strip those jeans off her body, nudge her feet apart, and press her against the tabletop with his larger form covering her, burying itself into her, thrusting into her over and over until-

  “Hey, what’s with the silent treatment?” Pushing back away from the booth, Maggie Fordice turned around with a bright smile on her face. “Come on, Dad, I was only asking- oh,” her mouth gaped open as she pressed her hand to her chest. “Cage!”

  He could only stare right back at her. He had meant every word he’d said to her father outside of his door. As unfortunate as the tone and choice of words had been, not just because Fordice was his old commanding officer, but he was also Maggie’s father.

  “Cage?” Maggie looked as confused as he felt. “Are you okay?”

  Okay didn’t even begin to cover it, it wasn’
t even close.

  Maggie Fordice had been a teenager when the unit left for Libya, but the Colonel hadn’t offered up much in the way of information about his daughter and the men didn’t ask. They figured it was his choice.

  But Cage knew that the Colonel had kept his daughter’s picture tucked into his gear. A picture that he had seen from time to time, but the skinny teen in the photo was nothing like the woman standing before him.

  Gone was the dark and brooding make-up, the stringy box-dyed hair. Maggie had gone from a pale and moody teen to a woman with a luscious figure, a bright smile, and eyes that snapped with intelligence. The whole package gave him shivers. And as long as Cage could remember, he’d never had shivers, not like these.

  But the shivers didn’t stop the aching erection pressing against the button fly of his jeans.

  Maggie was a revelation, and his colonel’s daughter.

  That last bit didn’t seem to affect his jaguar at all. The beast didn’t care whose cub she was, it wanted her. It wanted her pinned beneath them, her wide hips pressed up against them, her body open and willing. He normally gave his jaguar enough of a fight to keep him satisfied and quiet in the back of his head, but standing within touching distance of Maggie, his jaguar was having none of it.

  And the jaguar wasn’t above playing dirty.

  He let loose a tirade of pictures in Cage’s head that showed in no uncertain terms what he wanted Cage to do. Cage wasn’t averse to any of the ideas, but he wasn’t so eager to see what the Colonel would do to him if he put a hand… or any other part of himself on Maggie.

  So he settled with stupid and simple.

  “Your father said I should talk to you.”

  She cocked her head to the side and smiled at him. “Well, thank you, Daddy.”

  He heard the softly flirtatious tone in her voice and that sent another rush of blood straight south. “He thought you might be able to help me with Frances.”

  Cage wasn’t sure why, but when Maggie met his curious gaze, her lower lip pulling in between her teeth, he was quickly losing his ability to put more than a few words together.