King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)
King of the Cage: Chapter 40

A huge cage sat in the middle of the floor, people already fighting inside it.

“Oops, seems like we’re running a little late.” Aldo chuckled.

I recognized Bran immediately, even with his back to me. His muscles flexed under the spotlights around the ring. His back was bruised up already, and blood dripped from his arms. The men in the ring took turns attacking him. It was three against one, and they had weapons. One of the men was already out for the count, but the other two looked vicious. I started forward, alarm pulsing through me.

“Don’t make a scene. It wouldn’t help him… though I don’t know why you’d want to.”

I had no words to answer Aldo, just a pounding, longing heart.

Then Bran turned around and saw me. His bare chest was streaked with blood, but that didn’t stop me from making it out.

Every single black line and cross. Every little detail of that sketch from my dreams.

That symbol of belonging, acceptance. The image was Bran’s tattoo. Of course it was.

Just like that, my memories found me, hitting me like a storm. It was like that one tattoo and the feelings it had given me unlocked my mind, and everything rushed in.

I raised my eyes back to Bran’s. He watched me, his green-eyed gaze fixed on mine. So fucking familiar, it felt like coming home after a lifetime away.

“I want to,” I said slowly, my eyes never leaving Bran’s. “Because he’s my husband.” I glanced at Aldo. “Who I love… I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

This soulless fucker had been whispering lies in my ear all night about how I’d been desperately trying to escape my marriage and had asked him to help me. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Aldo narrowed his eyes at me, but I was saved from his questions by the sound of a grunt from the cage. I spun back, searching for Bran.

He’d been distracted, watching me with Aldo. That had given his two remaining opponents the opportunity they’d needed. He’d been pinning one man against the side of the cage, when the other came up and stabbed him in the back. Literally.

I screamed. I couldn’t help it. I dashed forward and grabbed the cage, my fingers sinking through the mesh, right where Bran had fallen. He’d managed to knock out the other guy while being stabbed. The last man standing checked on his friend. Bran’s quick twist had saved his back, and the knife had sunk into the thick muscle of his shoulder.

Bran groaned and shifted to his knees.

“Why are you here, wee one? That was never part of the plan.”

“What plan?” I wondered.

“You need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, O’Connor… I don’t go for bossy, domineering men, remember?” I said firmly.

Bran jerked, startled by the familiar words. He studied me.

“No, I’m not… I am your husband, though, unless your brother paid for the expedited service,” he said.

I laughed. I fucking laughed. If anything was a testament to how this man made me feel, it was the fact that I could laugh while in this situation.

“That’s right. You are. So, stop messing around and get up, Lost Boy. End this. If it’s dangerous here… then I need you with me.”

Something moved in Bran’s gaze when he realized I’d remembered our history. Remembered us.

“Selkie?” Bran murmured, almost reverently.

I nodded, a lone tear sliding down my cheek. Now I was crying? I couldn’t stop the emotions crowding in. Relief and love, fear, and the very real need to hold this man, lying bleeding before me.

“You — you came back,” he murmured.

I looked up at Bran’s opponent, who had straightened up and turned to watch us.

“Yeah, I did… so make sure there was a reason. If you die in there, I’d rather not have remembered any of it. So, finish this, get out of there, and come and kiss me.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Bran growled.

I glanced to the side. “He’s coming on your left,” I murmured.

Bran’s eyes darted that way, all without moving his head. His opponent thought he was taking him by surprise. The man reached us as I stepped back. He swung the knife toward Bran, who suddenly fell back, passing under the blade. The man stumbled, clearly caught off guard, but Bran was already moving. He kicked the knife from the guy’s hand and yanked him to the floor beside him. Then, they were wrestling. It was hard to see what was happening and who was getting the upper hand, until Bran ended up on top, the other guy facedown with his hands trapped. Bran grabbed the guy’s hair and counted himself out.

“One.” He smashed the guy’s head against the floor.

“Two.” Again.

“Three.” Once more.

The man went limp, and Bran pushed himself off and staggered to his feet.

“Brandon O’Connor. You have succeeded in your trials,” Archibald announced.

The crowd went wild.

I caught Bran’s eye, just before the lights went out and darkness fell across everyone… and all hell broke loose. The crowd was silent for a moment, people waiting to see if the lights going out was some kind of mistake. Surely, they’d pop back on any second?

When that didn’t happen, panic hit.

Someone grabbed me, and I punched at them, worried it was Aldo. I felt my way along the cage to the opening. Huge hands closed around my shoulders.

“Wee one, it’s me,” Bran’s reassuring voice said in my ear.

I threw myself into his arms and hugged him. He grunted.

“Are you hurt?” I exclaimed.

He hugged me harder. “Not enough to not touch you. Christ, I’ve missed you.”

“What’s going on?” I looked around.

The main overhead lights had gone out, but a candle here and there were still lit. It gave the room enough light to see the way people were scurrying about.

“It’s the end of the world as they know it,” Bran murmured. “And the very reason I didn’t want you here.”

“You’re taking them down, tonight?” I squeaked.

Bran nodded. “Elio, too. He’s here somewhere. He’s got a guy to go through the computer and systems and replace out where they make the drugs.”

“I can do that. We need to go upstairs to Regina and Archibald’s apartment. My brother can handle these people down here. You and me — we need to go for the head of the snake.”

Bran glanced over his shoulder. “Archibald was just here.”

“No, not him… it’s not him. It’s Regina. She’s the brains behind all of it. I’m pretty sure she has her husband on a strong, sophisticated version of Z Juice most of the time to make him her puppet.”

Bran swore. “I knew there was something off with that guy.”

A scream sounded from the end of the room where the doorway was. Men stood outlined in the light from the hall. They carried baseball bats and tire irons. A few had guns. They wore sharp black suits and had Purge-style masks on. The leader cocked his head in my direction, and the movement was so familiar, I recognized him immediately from his cold confidence.

Only my brother could look so professionally terrifying.

“Don’t tell me you want to put these members through a test of their own?” I asked. “And you managed to convince my brother of this instead of coming in here and mowing people down with firearms? Elio loves his efficiency.”

The group of Elio’s mercenaries started into the crowd, hacking and smashing. Members screamed, running for their lives in their velvet robes.

Bran grinned. “The Hunters become the hunted. It’s poetic. Your brother was up for it, I barely had to twist his arm.”

“I see you’re already having a bad influence on him.” I grinned up at him. “Elio doesn’t have fun with things… ever, and then you come along.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment; since they are so few and far between, I have to take what I can get.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you so much. I need you,” I said in a breathless rush. “How’s that?”

Bran put a hand to his chest, smiling like it pained him. “Go easy on me, this wasted heart can only take so much.”

I stared at the ceiling, imagining Regina in her dark, creepy apartment, surrounded by her terrifying paintings, getting frustrated at watching her little puppets come off their strings.

“So, let’s go and destroy all of this, together… just like we set out to do.” I gave him a bloodthirsty grin.

He nodded, conviction gleaming in his gaze. “Let’s.”

The elevator only went up as high as the lobby. It was completely deserted when we stepped out, like two extras from a horror movie. I still had the cloak on and the mask slung around my neck on a cord, and Bran was shirtless and covered in blood.

With his muscles, tattoos, and intense expression, he really was a pillaging warrior, come to take vengeance.

We glanced around the lobby for people. There wasn’t any sign of life. The reception was as dead as ever, but the lights were on, unlike downstairs.

“I guess the basement is on a separate system than the rest of this place,” I muttered.

Bran nodded toward a security camera in the corner. It hung by a single wire. It looked like it had been shot down.

“I think your brother has already taken care of security on this level,” Bran said, walking slowly around. He stopped at a dark-red smear on the marble floor.

“Okay, now I’m sure. This elevator only goes down. There must be another for the upper levels,” Bran pointed out.

“We should take the stairs,” I said heavily. There was no part of me that wanted to do that, but wasting time searching for another elevator wasn’t fun, either. We needed to finish this now, before she got away.

We hit the stairs and started upward.

“She’ll be ready for someone coming,” I worried.

Bran nodded. “If she’s as smart as you say… yes, she’ll be ready for us. Stay behind me.”

Bran stepped in front of me.

“Regina’s of a mind to kill,” I told him grimly. “That bitch injected me with her nasty home-cooked drugs and tried to erase my memory. Not only that, but she’s been cozying up to me all week, no doubt laughing at the fact that I don’t remember her. I found Alice in her apartment.” I quickly filled him in on the rest of the events that went down that day as we climbed the endless stairs.

“Alice?”

“The girl from the wedding, the branded one. I’m starting to think Regina has a whole little army of branded girls she trots out to do her dirty work. I wouldn’t be surprised if every server we’ve met was branded. Property of The Enclave.”

“How does she make them stay?”

“Fear, intimidation, CCTV of the shit members do behind these walls… maybe the ones who leave end up like that Jane Doe in the park, the one with the brand.”

Bran was quiet for a moment, climbing steadily, while I flagged beside him. Man, you’d think I was the one who’d fought to the death in the basement, not him. He reached out and took my hand. We had made it to the top. Double doors stood before us. The penthouse floor.

“In case I die, selkie, I want you to know… officially, on the record… I never married you because Da told me to. I’ve never done anything because he told me to. I married you because I love you. I was fated to love you, right from the start.”

Bran’s gaze was unwavering. I met it, inch for inch.

“I believe you,” I told him. It was true. I had no doubt.

“You do?” He tipped his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because you returned my skin.”

“And you came back to me,” Bran pressed, stroking a fingertip down my face. “Mam was right, people are born with a fate… and mine… is you.”

I barely had enough time to tuck away that little endearment in my heart before we rounded a bend in the stair and came to a door.

We stopped, breathless.

I looked at Bran, and he looked back at me, then he walked forward and pushed the doors open. I braced myself, imagining an immediate attack.

Silence fell. Nothing happened.

“Hmmm, maybe no one’s home?”

“I highly doubt that,” I muttered and peered around the door and into the hallway outside Regina’s apartment. It was dark. The elevator sat there, undisturbed. Exchanging glances, we stepped into the hall. There was an undisturbed vibe to the place.

“No one’s here, selkie.”

“No, that’s not right. She’ll be here, somewhere, watching.” I glanced up at the corners of the hallway, and a steady red light met my eye. Security cameras, watching us.

“Then we’ll replace her. We just need to get into the apartment.” Bran trailed off as the elevator suddenly hummed to life.

We turned to stare at the old-fashioned machine, clanking ominously, lighted numbers above the contraption counting up the floors.

“We’re about to have company.” Bran pushed me behind him and jerked his head toward the apartment behind us. “Can you get in there?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course I can,” I said, my snappy comeback muted by worry over who was coming for us.

I stepped to the elevator and inspected the panel in the wall, then lifted my foot and kicked it in until it busted open.

I reached my hand in and messed with the cables. After a few seconds, I knew I’d hit pay dirt.

“We need to rip all this shit out,” I said and looked to Bran.

He gazed around the hall and spied a wall sconce with a hooked arm. That was off the wall and ready to use in a heartbeat. Bran handed me the sconce, and I snagged the cables inside the wall around the curved metal arm.

“If I get electrocuted, just remember, I love you,” I told Bran.

“Giada,” he warned, reaching for me just as I started to tug.

With an almighty pull, I ripped the cables from the wall, threatening the electricity supply to the top floor. The remaining lights flickered and went out.

The door beeped behind us, the electronic keypad compromised by the failed electricity supply. There might be a battery as a backup, there might not be.

“That’s your way of opening the door?” Bran asked, his voice filled with amusement despite our situation.

“Yeah, ask any IT guy… if in doubt, unplug that motherfucker.” I grinned at him, making him laugh.

Best of all, cutting the electricity had stopped the old elevator and left it hanging somewhere between the floors. Unfortunately, the sound of voices came from up the shaft. Whoever was in there had lucked out and and been able to get out on a lower floor.

They’d come to the stairs next.

Bran stared toward the stairs, clearly having the same thought.

“You go now, get into the apartment. I’ll see to things here.”

“You can’t! You’re hurt,” I reminded Bran. His shoulder bled freely.

Bran shrugged. It was a perfect display of his devil-may-care attitude.

“I’ll be fine, selkie. My fate is to annoy you until the end of our days. I’ll be fine,” he repeated. He went to a console table, artfully arranged with heavy candlesticks and a huge vase. He dumped the flowers out and hefted the vase. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

I hesitated for a second, scared to leave him after I’d just found him again.

“Finish this, Giada. We were meant to finish this. I need to finish this and do something good with my life… to deserve you, selkie,” he said firmly.

He was so fucking brave and good. A man of his convictions in one breath, and a little boy still believing he needed to do something to deserve love in the next.

“No, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll love you anyway, always,” I said to him. “No matter what.”

He stilled, those deep-green eyes telling me things words could never capture. “And I’ll love you more, always, no matter what,” he murmured.

Just then, sounds of a commotion came to us, and the doors from the stairs burst open.