Page 63 of Sealed in Ink

I bounce out, acting like I’m going to start slow, and then I explosively feint a takedown. It catches him off guard, and he drops his hands. I flurry forward, a classic one-two, putting all my power into it, all the rage and primal savagery. I put thestorminto the punch. I put the future into it.

When I try to hit him again, the ref pulls me away—no damn way. Holy shit. He’s out cold. The first two punches I threw. He’s on his back, the doctors rushing to him.

I run around the cage with pure adrenaline. Marquis runs in, throwing his arms around me. “How did you do that, you wizard?” he roars in my ear. “You genius! Yes, Rust, yes!”

“Where is she?” I yell, scaling the cage, ignoring the security. I’m grinning from ear to ear as I find my woman in the crowd, standing next to Brad. The cameras follow me as I clamber over the barrier and then sweep her into my arms.

She grabs onto me as I stare down at her, passion making my heart thunder. “That was for you,” I tell her. “For our baby, too. I-I was supposed to do this in the cage during the interview, but I just love you too much, Mary.”

When I kneel, she gasps so cutely, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes are sparkling with her tears, with the future and love. “I love you too.”

“Mary Allen…” I look up at Brad, and he grins, handing me the ring box. I take it and open it, showing the large, beautiful diamond, elegant, just like my woman. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she screams excitedly.

I cheer and slip the ring onto her finger, jumping to my feet and pulling her into my arms. She pulls herself close to me, kissing me. I want to sink into it badly, but I only kiss her briefly, not wanting the world to watch my woman like this. She claws onto my arm, then leans up and yells in my ear over the noise of the thunderously applauding crowd. “I think you should go get your belt.”

“It’s nothing compared to this,” I say, lifting her hand and kissing the ring.

“This is your big moment.” She nudges me stubbornly.“Go.”

I kiss her on the cheek, then climb back over the barrier as everybody claps. Turning, I look through the cage holes, first at my beautiful Mary, then at Brad. He’s grinning like usual, and I can tell he means it. Somehow, he’s forgiven us. He’s a better man than me. He’s my rock. My best friend. Still.

I’m the luckiest man alive.

EPILOGUE

BRAD

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

I didn’t need more proof that Brad and Mary were serious about their relationship. I’ve seen it over the past months, watched them together, the little looks, the evident love. I was the best man at the wedding two months after Rust proposed. I’d never seen so much emotion in him, never thought that the cold, stony-eyed Rustcouldfeel that much.

He’s proved me wrong, and this proves me wrong again. I am holding my niece, little Nessa, Ness for short, because Mary wanted to honor Vanessa, our mother, but she wanted little Ness to be her own person. As I hold her, my eyes stinging with tears of love, Mary and Rust watch me. Even now, they still have that vague feeling of suspicion, like they think I will suddenly change my mind.

The truth is, though, I can’t think of anybody better for my sister. She has just the right amount of maturity, and he’s just the right amount of stunted. His childhood forced him to close off, but she’s opened him up. He’s like a new man. As he sits ather bedside, his hand in hers, they look like nothing but husband and wife. It fits in a way I never would’ve guessed before.

Dad stifles a tear from beside me. His and Mary’s reconciliation started with the wedding. Now, Dad has been in a program for six months. He’s becoming the man he was before Mom’s death robbed him from us.

“Can I hold her?” Dad asks.

“Of course you can, sir,” Rust says, respectful as he has always been since we were kids.

EPILOGUE

RUST

THREE YEARS LATER

“How’s mytherapistfeeling on our anniversary, hmm?” I say, when I wake beside my woman, the children miraculously not crying. Ness is over her crying stage, but Riley is throwing herself into hers.

My woman rolls over in bed, the sunlight making her wild hair gleam. She’s become even hotter since becoming a mother twice, curvier, her tits round and triggering so much primal lust in me.

“I’m not a therapist yet,” she murmurs. “Just another broke college student.”

I smooth my hand over her silk PJs, grabbing her hip and pulling her close so she can feel my hard length. She triggers my stiffness every time I let myself indulge in her for even a second. My wife’s face lights up as I stroke up her thigh toward her pussy. I can feel the heat from her panties.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” I say, rubbing her core over her panties, feeling her.

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