The Fighter and His Tiger (Unexpected Love #1)

40. Sunday Week Fifteen (the new home.)

40. Sunday Week Fifteen (the new home.)

Not even the two closed doors between us could conceal the sounds of Eli's fists violently hitting the punching bag repeatedly.

Raven was still sleeping soundly in the bed across the room from me. She had stayed the night to help me settle in and I had slept on the hard sofa bed in her room.

Not even my usual cup of tea in the morning could soothe the ache in my heart if anything it made me hurt more as I thought of my ridiculously British Nana. My hands were wrapped around my tea mug and the heat from the tea radiated warmly into my hands. My bare toes wriggled against the polished brown kitchen floor and my heart throbbed as I remembered the warm cream carpet in my bungalow.

Barefoot and clad in straight-leg grey joggers, I padded over to Eli's gym and pushed the door open. He faltered in his movements at the sound of me entering but he soon continued his assault on the punching bag.

Leaning against the grey wall behind me, I bent one of my legs and blew on my tea to cool it down all the while peering at Eli over the rim of my mug as he trained.

Of course, he was shirtless and rivulets of sweat made paths down his body as he moved with vicious ferocity. His body was just as toned and hard as it had always been, indented with muscle, engraved with sinew. His tattoos stood proud against his tan skin and each of his movements brought them to life so they looked as though they were going to reach off his skin and grab at me.

Neither of us spoke for a while and for a fleeting moment it felt like one of the moments before it all went wrong, one of the moments where I was happy. But then a bucket of ice cold water splashed over me as I remembered I was not happy. I was away from my family, my friends disliked me and I was living with my ex-boyfriend who recently told me he was actually in love with me which angered his psychotic father and perverted brother and now a bunch of people were trying to hurt or kill me.

So yeah. Not happy.

Using my bent leg which was propped against the wall behind me, I pushed forward, "do we know when I can go home yet, Ryker?"

Finally, he stopped punching the battered bag and turned to look at me. His chest was heaving and his eyes were glowing brightly — the first time in weeks that they didn't look dull or tired, I put it down to physical exertion.

Like they so often did, his eyes scanned me. They fell from the messy bun on my head to the cropped black Adidas spaghetti strapped vest I was wearing. A sliver of skin was visible between the edge of my vest and joggers and a shiver travelled down my spine as images of him biting and licking that sliver scanned behind my eyes.

Those ocean blue eyes met mine, "no, everyone is coming by later to figure out a plan," he started slowly moving across the room, step by step making his way over to me until he was stood right in front of me, close enough that if I wanted to — which I didn't — I could touch him, "you should change."

I rose a brow at him, "why is that?"

His hands reached out and he took the mug from my hands, sipping some of my tea which I knew he hated, "you're in your pyjamas, tigru."

Growling, I snatched my mug back, tea spilling over the edges at the violent action but I didn't care, "don't" I snapped, "call me 'tigru' and stop telling me what to do, Ryker."

He must have noticed on my face that I was going to leave because his hand shot out to press against the door, keeping it shut and me trapped.

"Stop calling me Ryker."

With him standing so close I was forced to remember just how tall he was. My neck had to crane upwards so I could see him properly as I spoke, "that's what everyone calls you, Ryker."

He bent down so close that I could smell his familiar spice and leather scent, "you're not everyone, tigru."

He didn't realise that I love you. The memory bombarded into my mind before I could push it away like I had been doing since he told me.

I looked away from him, instead peering at the gym equipment behind him, "you made me everyone when you left me."

His eyes fluttered closed and it was one of the rare occasions where he didn't hide his emotions. Guilt was the most prevalent emotion I could read off him but when his eyes opened and stared down at me, I saw longing shining in those ocean eyes of his.

There was a loud BANG on the door and I jumped, effectively spilling the rest of the tea on the floor.

"Are you guys coming?" Cayden yelled, "we've been waiting for hours."

I rolled my eyes at Cayd's theatrics and Eli stepped away. His hand which had been holding the door moved past my face and I noticed red on his knuckles.

Without realising what I was doing, I gasped and grabbed Eli's hand in my own, turning it over so I could properly examine his knuckles.

"Jesus, Eli," I ran my fingers across the bruises, some areas were so swollen they were bleeding, "why didn't you tape them up?"

I looked up at him, seeking an explanation, but I didn't get one. He tugged his hand out of mine, "we should go."

It was hard to hold back my groan when I caught sight of Rafael seated at the table with Raven, Cayd and Max, but I did. I took a seat next to Raven whereas Eli leant on the breakfast bar behind the table and more specifically behind me.

"Okay," began Rafael as he placed a brown folder on the table with a thud, "our biggest problem so far has been linking Mikael directly with the illegal shit, without concrete evidence," he tapped the brown folder with his finger, "the cops can't move on him, not in a way that will stick anyway."

I frowned, "I thought we weren't doing cops."

Rafael looked at me but his eyes flicked to Eli behind me as he spoke, "yes, well, we decided cops were better."

My back twisted as I turned to look at Eli but he was pinning Rafael with a hard stare and my eyes narrowed at him. If he ever wanted to fix things then he needed to start telling me everything, not just half truths.

"No," I said, looking at Rafael, "what do you think is the better option, Donatelli's or cops?"

"Rei," Eli warned behind me but I ignored him and continued to stare at Rafael. He met my stare head on but his eyes moved to Eli who was still stood behind me, leaning on the back of my chair.

"Don't look at him," I demanded, he looked back at me, "what do you think?"

"I think," he said, "the Donatelli's are our best bet. You guys are too involved, too linked to Mikael. He raised you all which will be seen as a conflict of interest by the police. At least with the Donatelli's we know they want him gone just as much as we do."

My brows furrowed, "so why did you change the plan back to police?"

No one spoke and I let out a groan of frustration because they were still keeping things from me. I looked at Raf, knowing he had no reason to lie.

He raised a brow and then spoke, "because, bonita, your boyfriend wanted to do it the right way," he gave me a pointed look, "for you."

I didn't bother correcting him because that was the last thing I expected him to say. Standing up, I turned to look at Eli who was still leaning on the back of my chair, he was glaring fiercely at Rafael but I cupped his face and forced him to look at me.

"Eli," I said softly and his eyes moved to meet mine, softening, "I don't care how we get this done," my thumb stroked his cheek, "we just need to get it done, okay?"

I was rewarded with a short nod which gave me and everyone in the room the confirmation they needed.

Time to go to war.

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