Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (21 page)

Allie
felt he mouth pop open. “W-what?” she stuttered. “Since when?”

“Since this
mornin’, ma’am. I’m ta escort y’all out of the building if I see you. Sorry bout that.”

Still in shock, she glared up at the goon, her thoughts turning to
Matthew.
That . . . ass!

Eyeballing
Allie like he expected her to throw herself on the floor and kick and scream he walked around the side of the desk. “Y’all need me to call a cab?”

“No.”
Asshole!
“I don’t,” she muttered mulishly.
Of all the asinine
. . . she spun on her heel and huffed out the front of the building, hands shaking as her purse got caught in the door. “Mother . . .
ass
munch!” She jerked her purse free and then stomped her foot—a little girly, but,
damn it!
The jerk had banned her from the building!

“
Allison?” A feminine voice floated to her over the cursing. Allie whirled around to see the willowy figure of Stacy Lynch, Matthew’s super model sis-in-law, coming out of the building.

Did she
have
to be so knock-down gorgeous? Maybe just a zit or two on her perfect nose? Allie felt like toilet paper in comparison on the heel of her—
holy smokes!
—were those Louboutins clattering toward her? The blood red bottoms of the heels gave them away and she cringed.

Shit, again.
Allie so didn’t have a prayer of measuring up.

Stacy
stopped in front of her, a delicate hand fluttering over her heaving chest. She must have been in a rush to catch up. When she finally caught her breath she asked, “You’re Allison? Matthew’s Allison?”

Uhh
, maybe? “
Kind of.”

Stacy
, though manicured and buffed to perfection, hit Allie with one of the most genuine smiles she’d ever seen. “Oh! I’m so happy to meet you!” She was suddenly all over Allie’s personal space, hugging the life out of her. When she pulled back, her smile had upped its wattage even more. “You have no idea how happy I am to see Matthew with someone!” Her eyes ran all over Allie—made her want to adjust something—
strike that
—made her wish she had forty-eight hours to prepare for this moment. Brush her teeth again at the least.

“And you’re beautiful, of course,”
Stacy continued. “In the most perfectly girl-next-door kind of way. Just Matthew’s type.”

Ooookay
. “Uh, thanks?”

“So, were you meeting
Matthew?” Stacy quickly linked arms with Allie as if they’d been BFF’s for years. Allie had never been into the whole touchy, feely stuff, so it was a job not to jerk away. Not that she figured Stacy would have noticed. The girl took happy-go-lucky to a whole new level. She’d seem like a ditz if not for the intelligence that flashed in her eyes as she looked Allie over for the fifteenth time.

Allie
shook her head to gather her wits. “Actually, I don’t know what’s going on with him. I just found out he’s banned me from the building.”

That stopped
Stacy in her tracks.

“What happened?”

Oh, geeze.
What to say to that one?

“He, uh.
We . . .” Stacy was looking back at her, thin eyebrow cocked.
Spit it out already, Allie!
“I stayed over and he . . . uh . . . had a problem. A bad dream, actually. He didn’t handle it well.” Man, if Matthew found out who all she’d blabbed to, he really would strangle her.

“Ah.”
Stacy’s face fell. “A flashback?”

Of course
Stacy would be familiar with PTSD if her husband had been in the same platoon as Matthew. Allie dropped her eyes to the pavement while her fingers worked on unraveling the string of fabric from the cuff of her shirt sleeve.

“Yeah.
I think so.”

“But, you’re okay?”
Stacy’s eyes roamed all over her again, taking a better look at Allie’s long sleeves and high collar.

“It got . . . a little intense. But he stopped.”

Stacy turned to face her fully. “Allison—”

“Just
Allie’s fine.”

“
Allie.” A small smile lit her lips. “I like that.” She nodded. “Allie, I’ve got to be frank with you. Matthew’s special to me. He’s like a brother. When my husband died”—a shudder cracked apart her happy demeanor and gave Allie a small glimpse of the pain hiding beneath all her perfection—“it was hard. Really hard. And Matthew took care of me and the boys. Still does, in fact. Matthew doesn’t talk about what happened to Jay”— Allie sucked in some air.
Jay was his brother? Holy. Shit.
—“since we all watched that coffin roll down the tarmac at the Air Force Base Matthew’s been different. Numb. He’s cut himself off from everyone, including his family. He’d cut himself off from me too, but I’m good at being the pain in his butt he can’t ignore.” She laughed a little at that. “We’ve all been worried about him. His parents have been sick. But . . . when I saw him a few days ago, it was like some part of him has been resurrected; and the only explanation I have for the change is you.”

Stacy
’s honesty was barefaced, but Allie liked it. Made her chest swell with the hope that things between her and Matthew could be salvaged.

“So,”
Stacy chirped as her hands clapped together. “What do you say we go back inside and figure out this whole banning silliness?”

As
Stacy approached the front desk, blazing with hellfire and damnation Allie noticed with a well of satisfaction that the scary goon guy behind it shriveled up like a prune in the sun.

“
Jon McCarty.
Who
do you think you are, kicking this girl out?”

Jon
had been reduced to twitching limbs under Stacy’s dainty glair. “Sorry, ma’am. Just followin’ orders from Mr. Lynch.”

“Don’t you go all
Mr. Lynch
on me, Jon. This is Matthew’s girl. Why would he ban her from the building?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

Stacy got right up in Jon’s face with one tiny, perfectly formed French tip. It gave the illusion that David was about to put the beat down all over Goliath. “Well, I don’t know either.”

Jon
’s eyes crawled all over the main floor, looking for some kind of goonish backup, but the place had quickly vacated a few minutes too late to save him.

“So where
is
Mr. Lynch, then?”

“He’s gone for the rest of the day.
Overseeing an install.”

“And when will he be back?”

“He won’t. Not till the mornin’, ma’am.” Jon was practically slinking up the back of his chair by this point.

“And
where will he be tonight?”

“He’s scheduled to fight tonight.”
Jon paused when Allie sucked in a breath, and those electric blue eyes settled on her. “At the UMMA,” he finished.

“And what on
earth
is the UMMA?” Stacy asked.

Allie
’s throat had turned to dust while her fingers transformed into ice. “It’s a Mixed Martial Arts fight club. I know where it is,” she whispered.

“You’d
really have thought Matthew would have chosen a nicer place to hang around.” Stacy’s voice dripped distaste as she pulled her coat up around her throat and curled her nose.

Allie
figured Stacy didn’t slum it often. She seemed the kind to prefer the comforts of a local five star country club or day spa. Everything about her suggested she came from money; her very posture implied years of affluent upbringing. It was a wonder she’d met someone like Jayce in the first place.

The alleyway that had been the start of so much loomed at their side. A steady breeze rushed off the narrow brick walls, kicked up old wrappers and bits of debris before it nipped at the bottom of
Allie’s jeans and sent shivers up her legs.

Stepping closer to
Stacy, she shuddered. “At least we have muscle with us.”

Said muscle followed behind as they entered the UMMA.
Jon was dressed casual to blend in with the others, in jeans and a tee. He’d come along grudgingly—actually, he’d been forced by Stacy; there had been nothing willing about it.

While less than thrilled to be babysitting a couple of girls,
Jon looked like a cat in the middle of the canary shop as he took in the surroundings, cracking his knuckles like he wanted nothing more than to get in the ring himself.

Knowing
Matthew would throw a clot if she and Stacy had tried to come alone—ornery ass that he was—Allie was happy to have Jon along.

The arena was packed, just like it had been that first night she’d come,
humid with sweat and too many bodies. The floor rumbled from the base of the huge speakers on the floor, while Tupac’s voice pounded above the octagon. Allie stared at the cage as a shiver ran through her body. The mat was already stained with blood in spots.

She wasn’t sure she’
d ever get the appeal of MMA.

When they hit a wall of bodies,
Jon barreled into them like he was parting the Red Sea, while Stacy and Allie followed in his wake. A small hand grasped onto Allie’s and she looked down into Stacy’s wary face. Tiny as she was, it would be far too easy for her to be swallowed by the crowd.

They were making their way toward the fighter’s locker rooms when a booming voice cut off the hard rap music and the
merc was announced, followed by a wild roar from the crowd.

Allie
stopped and tugged Stacy’s hand. “That’s Matthew,” she shouted over the raucous.

“The
merc?” Stacy shouted back. “That’s a little dramatic.” Her curly head shook back and forth.

“D
on’t think Matthew came up with it.”

“What?”
Stacy shouted again.

“Never mind.”
Allie shook her head and followed after Jon.

They found a free spot to stand while the fight got ready to begin.
Stacy looked close to being drowned by the wave of people, but the tilt of her chin, as well as her stance, gave her an attitude that made up the inches she lacked in the height department.

Tougher than she looked, for sure.

“Have you ever seen Matthew fight?” Allie asked to fill the time and draw her nerves into submission.

“Mm, hmm,”
Stacy nodded with a glint to her eye, her mouth curling up like the Cheshire cat. “Poor guy, whoever has to fight him. Matthew and Jay used to box in our basement. Jay was a great fighter, but Matthew was something else. Jay could rarely land a blow that Matthew didn’t block.”

It was weird to imagine married life with someone so . . . charged with testosterone. It had to have been
a dream come true when Jayce and Stacy had their two little boys. What better gift for a dad than to have some little Mini Me’s to throw around? Though, as she thought of the tender moments she and Matthew had shared, she could imagine a tough dad having a little girl would be heaven, too. Allie’s chest suddenly filled with sorrow for Stacy and she instinctually squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Stacy
’s answering smile cut off when Matthew entered the octagon and the crowd’s roar cranked up to a deafening decibel level.

P
aler than when last she’d been with him, and his eyes were swallowed by heavy shadows. His hair was a wild tangle over his head, scruff over his jaw giving him the brutality of a Viking.

He looked . .
. scary.

M
uscles coiled beneath smooth skin as he prowled forward and she was overcome by the memory of him above her—skin to skin, his cheeks flushed and his brow slick with sweat, his mouth slightly parted—and it sent her stomach fluttering.

H
ow did he affect her like this with just one look?

Stacy
turned toward her, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”
She nodded. “I have a hard time watching this stuff.”

Stacy
’s sigh fluttered the bangs above her dark eyes as the corner of her lips plucked up. “Boys are such animals.”

That did
not
help, Allie thought—only intensified her memories of just how animalistic Matthew could truly be.

As the fight began,
Matthew was on the war path in an instant, his intelligent green eyes patiently assessing while his opponent, a massive fighter, chorded with thick bands of muscle, tested him with kicks and jabs. They rounded the cage in a deadly dance Allie was becoming more familiar with, last time she’d seen him fight he’d destroyed his opponent in mere seconds.

The
fighters made a few circuits around the mat and the crowd grew bloodthirsty. Boos and hisses filled the arena with hostility. The other fighter, who was obviously nervous of Matthew’s reputation, kept his distance except for the occasional swipe of a glove or foot.