Fighting for Control (Against the Cage Book 3) Read Free Page B

only way he could escape the nightmares.
    He hadn’t realized how fine a line he was walking until it was too late. If he’d only known those lights were going to set him off. The hell of it was he never knew what would be his next trigger. His mental breaks were completely unpredictable and totally random.
    “I think it goes without saying that, as of immediately, you’ve been suspended from the CFA pending a psychological evaluation. If you want to avoid legal charges, you’re going to have to start going to therapy twice a week for no less than six months. The only thing that’s saving your ass, and possibly your career right now, is your military service, but that’s only going to buy you so much rope—don’t hang yourself with it. As long as you’re punching a clock with a shrink, the CFA has agreed to let you use the gym to lift and weight train, but you are not to get back in that cage until you’ve been medically cleared.”
    Nikko dropped his face in his hands and dragged his fingers through his hair. After over two years of running, his ghosts had finally caught up with him. “Is he . . .” Nikko cleared his throat when it tightened up on him and tried again. “Is Coach all right?”
    Cole stared at him a moment, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to answer. Whatever he saw in Nikko’s eyes must have convinced him of his bone-deep regret, because the hard-ass fighter nodded his head. “Yeah, he’s fine. You’re lucky. Listen, I’m only going to tell you this once, Del Toro. That man is like a fucking father to me. If you ever touch him again, I’ll do more than knock you out.”
    With that final warning, Easton flicked a square of paper between the bars. The business card landed on the floor near his feet. “Monday morning, bright and early,” Easton grumbled, then turned and walked away, leaving Nikko to rot behind bars. It was no worse than he deserved.

S o . . . how was your date last night?”
    Violet glanced up from the file she was reading to find Penelope hovering in the doorway of her office. She didn’t have time for this right now. The CFA was sending a fighter in for a psych eval in twenty minutes, and she was busy getting up to speed on what had transpired this weekend to prompt the referral.
    This wasn’t the first time they’d sent her a client. The CFA required mental health evaluations on all their fighters, as well as background checks, before offering contracts. But this was the first time Vi was concerned one of them wasn’t going to pass it. What guy in his right mind knocks out his coach at a CFA press party? Whoever would do something so impulsive and just plain stupid was either looking to commit professional suicide or something wasn’t firing right upstairs.
    “Well . . . ?” Pen prompted when Vi didn’t respond.
    She pulled off her cheaters and dropped them onto the desk. “Not now, Pen. I have a new patient coming in at eight thirty and I’m trying to finish reading his file.”
    “If you would have returned my multiple phone calls last night, we could have kept the sex talk out of the office. You don’t technically start work until eight thirty, which means you’re not on the clock yet. So, spill it, sister.”
    Vi exhaled a sigh, casting another glance at the clock, and grumbled, “Remind me why I like you again.”
    “Because I’m the fun version of you—except my tits are bigger and my hair is darker.”
    She scowled at her friend’s impish grin, trying like hell to look serious. “Your tits are not bigger than mine, Pen.”
    “I know.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to make you say tits at work.”
    And this was the problem with having your best friend as your secretary. Perhaps it was because Pen reminded her so much of her sister that they’d become friends so fast. Working together every day had quickly built a bond that would normally have taken Vi years to develop. Pen’s loyalty and support and overall hatred for Barry