Giuseppe stripped out of his coat and shirt and passed them to his nephew. He motioned to Dahlia and Cam with his chin. “If they try anything, shoot them.”
Vaughn didn’t show a reaction, just stripped off his shirt. He was so good at locking everything up inside, it was no wonder she once thought him intimidating, but she knew him now better than anyone. He needed that protective shell, because for all of his warrior ways, he had a tender soul, one that felt things deeply and could be so easily hurt.
And she’d hurt him.
No. She couldn’t let him die without telling him how much she regretted that.
“Vaughn!” She surged to her feet and caught his face between her hands when he swung around. She met his gaze, and there—that’s where she saw the fear. Not for himself. No, he wouldn’t fear for his own safety. But for his twin. And, possibly, for her?
She swallowed hard and lifted onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. God, those words aren’t enough for how much I regret hurting you and dragging you into this mess, but it’s all I can give—”
He speared his hand into her hair and tilted her head back, interrupting her rambling with a harder kiss. It was more than a meeting of lips and tangle of tongues. It was everything she wanted to say, everything she didn’t have the words for. All of her anger at him for putting himself in this position. Her fear for him. Her love for him. Her heart and soul, all poured into a kiss.
Gentle hands clasped her shoulders and tugged her back, away from Vaughn. It had to be Cam because Tommy or Cristiano wouldn’t be so gentle, but still she resisted. She clung to him, terrified to let him go because as soon as she did he’d climb into that cage with the devil himself. And while he may be a good fighter, he was already at a disadvantage.
He had a soul.
Vaughn finally set her back, pushing her into Cam’s arms. He lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles gently over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “C’mon, vixen. None of that. Call me a name instead. Give me the best you got.”
She sniffed. “Douchecanoe twatwaffle.”
He grinned. “There’s my spitfire.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, too.”
He said it so softly that at first, she wasn’t sure she heard him right. She drew away to gaze up at him, but he was looking over her shoulder at Cam. Something passed between the twins, a poignant nonverbal communication. The bond between them was like nothing she’d ever seen. It was a pure, deep love.
It was…family.
She wanted to be part of that. She wanted family—with Vaughn.
But he was turning away, leaving her—leaving them both—and walking toward death. Giuseppe was already inside the cage, bouncing from foot to foot, throwing punches at the air, exhaling hard with each flurry of his fists. Vaughn paused at the bottom of the stairs leading up into the cage and glanced in their direction. His shoulders moved with a long exhale, and his features hardened, then he kicked off his shoes and climbed the steps without looking back again.
Chapter Twenty
The concrete was cold on his feet—no spongy mats here to absorb the shock of a fall. At one time, he’d liked that about this particular octagon. The fights were real, raw, intense. But now all he could think about was how much his body already hurt and how Dahlia stood just on the other side of wire fencing, fearing for him.
He blocked her out of his mind. He also blocked the worry he felt radiating from his twin. He couldn’t let them distract him from his goal.
He was going to kill Giuseppe and free Dahlia from her past—even if he died doing it. Nobody deserved the life she had lived. The life this fucker had forced on her.
He squashed down the surge of anger and squared off in front of Bellisario. Anger made you stupid. Like the rest, it was an emotion he couldn’t afford right now.
Bellisario didn’t look like an old man. He was as tall as Vaughn, a solid mass of well-used muscle.
“Well?” he demanded. “Are we going to stand here all day or are we going to fight?”
“I want to hear you say it first, Bellisario. I want to hear you order your shit-for-brains minions to leave us alone if I win.”
Bellisario’s eyes narrowed. If he’d been hoping Vaughn would just charge into the fight without extracting a guarantee first, he’d gotten too used to dealing with idiots. Which, come to think of it, might be an advantage. Vaughn tucked the knowledge away for later use. He’d need every advantage he could get.
Bellisario said nothing for a moment, then finally glanced toward his son and nephew. “You heard him. If he wins, you’re to let them go.”
“And leave Dahlia alone for the rest of her life. You’ll no longer chase her.”
His jaw tightened. “And leave Dahlia alone.”
“Fine, whatever,” Tommy said, his lip curling in disgust. “It won’t matter, because Giuseppe Bellisario has never lost.”