Broken Shadows (The Broken Series Second Generation Book 2)

by Heather D'Agostino

  “I get it, man. I’ve seen Carl do this before. I was honestly waiting for you to snap.” Hunter laughed as I dragged my bags to the living room. “It’s been real, man. Call me if you’re ever in town again.” He waved as I stepped out the door and back into the cold winter air of New York.

  ooooooooo

  It took me three days to get to Miami, but what a welcomed change it was. I’d called my mom on the way, and told her what happened. She pretty much begged me to come home, but I insisted that I couldn’t. I was still angry, and I didn’t want to listen to my father tell me how he was right and I was wrong. I still felt like I had something to prove.

  There were three different gyms that had called over the last couple of days, and I’d decided on Fury. The trainer who wanted me seemed like someone I could work with. He basically told me that as long as I keep winning, I can make my own schedule. Winning was all that mattered to him.

  Fury was not as nice as In10city, but no one harassed me when I came in. Afternoons became my new workout time, and my new trainer, Chuck, didn’t seem to mind. I could sleep in, and still enjoy my evenings. I found a small apartment a few blocks from the beach. It wasn’t much, but it would do. I’d been spending money like crazy in New York, so now I was playing catch up. Chuck booked me a fight two weeks after I arrived. It was a main ticket spot, and I’ve been busting my ass to get ready. As much of a party area that Miami is, I’ve actually been spending a lot of time at home. I don’t really know many people here, but I’m sure I’ll meet some once I win. Everyone wants to be your friend when you’re winning. Skipping lines and having your tabs taken care of makes “friends” appear everywhere.

  ooooooooo

  “Grab some gloves.” Chuck pointed to an equipment box near the sparring ring. I’d just come in for the day to get a short workout in. Tomorrow was it. “Tanner’s gonna spar with you,” he called. Tanner was twice my size. He was two weight classes above me. “Don’t break him,” Chuck called to Tanner, who was standing in the ring. “I want you to work on defensive moves today,” he barked as I climbed through the ropes. “You do a lot of swinging. I want to see you duck and get out of the way.”

  “I’ve never needed to go on the defensive.” I rolled my eyes, and Tanner grinned.

  “You will with me,” he mumbled around his mouth guard. He tapped his fists against mine and then bounced on his toes.

  I backed up, hunched down, and gave him my signature ‘come here’ move. It was the one thing I did like my dad. Tanner chuckled as he stormed closer and took a swing. I ducked and side-stepped out of the way. “Like that?” I barked at Chuck, but just as the words left my mouth, Tanner connected with my shoulder. I stumbled to the side, caught off guard and shook my head.

  “Focus!” Chuck yelled. “Do it again, Tan.”

  “Yeah, Do it again.” I narrowed my eyes. I thought this was training. Apparently, it didn’t matter that I was fighting tomorrow. “Hit my face, and you’re a dead man,” I growled.

  Tanner held his hands up, mocking me, then stepped closer and took another swing. I dodged it and swung back, connecting with his side. “E, we’re working on defense, not offense,” Chuck yelled.

  “So, I’m not supposed to fight back?” I tossed my hands in the air.

  “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. Tanner’s going to swing, and you’re going to get out of the way. The Sandman is undefeated here in Miami. He won’t think twice about laying you out. I wanna see that you can get out of the way of his fists.”

  I grumbled as I got back into position, and Tanner just laughed. I nodded I was ready, and Tanner engaged once again. We went round and round with him trying to connect, and me stepping out of the way. It seemed to go all afternoon, but really was less than an hour. “Okay, hit the weights.” Chuck dismissed me, and I tossed my gloves in the general direction of the equipment box.

  “Don’t take it personally. I used to be you. He’s just making sure that you listen to him.” Tanner chuckled as he packed away his gear.

  “I came here because I was promised I could do things my way,” I grumbled.

  “You can for the most part. Chuck is one of the most laid-back trainers I’ve ever worked with, but you have to respect him and the sport. He’s not going to waste his time on someone who doesn’t.” Tanner shrugged.

  “I do respect the sport.” I shook my head.

  “Coming in late to train, staying out all night, sleeping with anything that spreads its legs… that’s not respect, man. You and I aren’t that different, thing is… I grew up. I think you need to take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if you like who’s looking back.” He walked off just as I reached the weight room door.

  I looked in the mirror all the time. I saw a champion. I saw a guy who was killing himself to be the best. What I didn’t see was my father, and that was what I was trying to achieve all along. As long as he wasn’t there, I was making it. What I didn’t understand at the time was, being in my dad’s shadow wasn’t as bad as I thought.

  Chapter 8

  Easton

  When I woke up the next morning, I was pumped. Tonight, I would make Miami mine, and I’d show Chuck I was a winner. I spent the morning relaxing, and went for a jog. It was hot, even for winter. I was used to the cold from growing up in Boston, but if I could make Miami my home, then it wouldn’t be half bad.

  The day seemed to drag by, but when the sun started to set, I grabbed my things and headed to the arena. Chuck hadn’t offered to get me a car. I guess I hadn’t earned that from him yet. I needed to prove myself first. I drove through the streets, listening to music as I made my way to the parking deck by the arena. After pulling into a spot away from most of the other cars, I flipped the hood up on my jacket, and headed toward the doors that led to the locker room. I didn’t want to be recognized. I didn’t want anyone distracting me before this fight. Concentration and keeping cool was key. My dad’s voice echoed through my head. I closed my eyes and shook the thought away. Not even the internal battle with my father would ruin this night.

  When I stepped in the locker room, Chuck was waiting. “Get changed, and I’ll tape you up.” He pointed to an area around the corner. I nodded and set my stuff on the bench.

  It didn’t take long for me to change, and before I knew it, I was back in fight mode. Head down, eyes closed, earbuds in. I tuned it all out as Chuck wrapped my hands. “Try to stay calm.” He tapped my shoulder when he finished. “I’ll come get you when it’s time.” I nodded as he stood and left me there.

  I laid down on the bench, and draped my arm over my eyes. I drew in a few deep breaths as another memory flooded my head. “What’s this for?” I held up my dad’s mouth guard. I was four. “It keeps my teeth safe.” Dad smiled and pointed at his perfect white teeth. “What protects the rest of you?” I looked around for padding of some sort. “These.” Dad held up his fists. They were wrapped in yellow tape. Mike, his trainer, had just left, and I was bouncing around the locker room because I didn’t want to stay in my seat with Mom. “Can you teach me?” I grinned. He was my hero. I wanted to learn how to protect myself. “Maybe when you’re bigger.” I glanced over where Mom was leaning against some lockers. “Teach me now.” I put my hands up and tried to copy what I’d seen him do. “Like this?” I punched at his arm and he pretended like it hurt. “Don’t tuck your thumb in. That’ll hurt it. Like this.” He bent my hand into a proper fist and then held it, moving it in a punching fashion. Mom had frowned and told him I was too young. “I’m going to be the best when I grow up.” I jumped excitedly and Dad just smiled at me. He won that night. He only had four more fights after that before he retired.

  “Ready?” Chuck knocked on the door as he opened it, causing me to jump. The memory disappeared as fast as it had appeared, and I stood, ready.

  “Let’s do this. No fear!” I growled the words as he draped my robe over my shoulders and stepped out of the way to let me pass.

  “No fear!” Chuck mirrored.
I stumbled slightly hearing those words come from him, but recovered before stepping into the light.

  ooooooooo

  I won that night in a record three round takedown. The Sandman wasn’t prepared for my floor game, and tapped quickly. I’d like to say that the night got better, but I’d be lying. It turned out that my greatest win was also the moment that it all came crashing down around me.

  After the fight, I cleaned up, and was just coming out of the locker room when I tripped and almost crashed into someone. I was used to fans trying to come back and sneak in for autographs. I was used to the women who would lie their way in because they thought I’d want to take them out that night. I wasn’t used to what actually happened.

  “E. Hey.” Her voice was quiet, not the usual squeal that I’d heard in the past. She stood there in baggy sweats with her hair up in a messy bun.

  “Amanda.” I was shocked she was here. We weren’t dating when I left, and I didn’t even tell her that I was going to Miami. “How’d you find me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t easy. I finally got it out of Hunter a few days ago. Can we talk?”

  “About what? I’m not interested in whatever proposition you’re offering.” I rubbed my eyes in frustration.

  “It’s important.” She refused to look me in the eyes. This wasn’t the chick who did all sorts of freaky shit with me. Was I in some sort of alternate reality?

  “I’m on my way out. Can we do this another time?” I started to brush past her, but she gripped my sleeve with her long nails.

  “No, it can’t.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I didn’t want to do this in the hallway, but what the hell. Here.” She slapped a small piece of paper against my chest. “Congratulations! You’re the father.”

  I stood there speechless as she stormed away, swaying her hips like it was nothing. The paper fluttered to the floor, and I leaned down to pick it up. It was a grainy black and white ultrasound photo. There was a tiny shape in the middle that resembled a gummy bear. Typed in the corner was Amanda Lowe. My hand shook as I stared at it, willing it to disappear. This was a dream, no a nightmare, it had to be…right? She swore to me that we were good; that all those times were safe because she was on the pill. I stuffed the photo in my pocket as I rushed down the hallway toward the parking deck. I needed to find her. I needed details that only she could give me. I couldn’t let her just walk away.

  When I stepped outside, I looked in both directions. I couldn’t see her anywhere, but I really didn’t know what I was looking for. I didn’t know what kind of car she drove, or anything really. I didn’t even know her last name until I saw it on the photo. What the fuck was I going to do?

  I turned abruptly and punched the side of the building. My fist screamed in pain as the knuckles on my hand split open. I didn’t care. Frustration and anger fueled me. I reared back and punched again. I probably would have broken my hand if I hadn’t started gaining spectators. I blinked a few times to clear my head as I rushed toward where I’d left my car. After jumping in, I peeled out of the parking space, and tore down the city streets. I needed to escape, but I wasn’t sure how to do that.

  A few moments later I found myself in the parking lot of 21 Bottles. It was a local bar that was more of a hole in the wall. I’d heard about the place, but hadn’t really been here long enough to venture out, plus I was used to the more upscale bars.

  I parked in a dark corner, and grabbed my jacket before heading in. I picked a bar stool near the end, away from most of the patrons, and sat down. My hand was throbbing, and I knew I’d be regretting that stupid mistake in the morning. Hell, I might have paused my career for a few months with this injury.

  The guy behind the bar was wearing ripped jeans and a gray t-shirt. He had a towel tucked in his waistband, and a bottle opener in his back pocket. “Whatcha drinkin’?” He stood in front of me.

  “Whiskey, neat,” I murmured before glancing up at him.

  “Hey. I know you.” He smiled.

  “I don’t think you do,” I grumbled. I was not in the mood for fans tonight.

  He leaned closer. “I won’t tell anyone.” He nudged my arm, and then turned to grab a bottle from under the counter. “We don’t get many people in here who want to pay for this, but I’m covering you tonight, Champ.” He poured two fingers of Johnnie Walker Platinum and slid it across the bar.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled before picking up the glass, and downing the entire contents. I flicked it back across the bar, and he refilled it, no questions asked.

  I don’t know how long I sat there. The crowd never picked up, which was nice. I tipped multiple glasses back, and the longer I was there, the less that photo seems to burn in my pocket. I tried calling Hunter, but he wouldn’t pick up. I had no way of finding Amanda, and I wondered if this baby was really mine. We never talked about being exclusive with whatever you’d call what we were doing, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she was coming to me because she wanted money. Funny thing is, I don’t have much. I barely can afford to support myself. All the finer things have come from VitaBar. Mike spends money on me like I’m his golden ticket. Amanda is barking up the wrong tree if she’s wanting money.

  I tipped back another glass of whiskey before motioning for my tab. The bartender came over. “I told ya. I got this.” He winked. “Good luck on the next fight.” He took my glass and wiped the bar.

  I stood on wobbly legs and shuffled to the door. The ground seemed to tilt under me. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I didn’t care. I was mad, and confused. I climbed behind the wheel and sat for a few minutes. I reached in my pocket for the photo. My thumb rubbed over the image. Was this kid mine? Could I be a dad right now? Images of my own father flitted through my mind. He was still fighting when my sister was born, and at the peak of his career when I came along. He had my mom though, and they were in love.

  I shook my head as I tossed the photo on the passenger seat, and cranked the engine. My car roared to life, and I shifted into drive. As I peeled out of the parking lot, small stones flew in the air behind me. The streets were fairly empty this late in the evening, and I wasn’t paying attention. The light looked green to me, but it could have been red. My head was too messed up for me to remember, and I didn’t care at the moment. I rounded a corner too fast, swerving into the opposite lane and that’s when I saw them. Blue flashing lights shone through my back window, reflecting off my mirrors and into my eyes. I squinted as I pulled over, and sagged against the steering wheel. My life was falling apart a little more with each passing minute today, and I was sure I’d already hit bottom.

  Chapter 9

  Easton

  “License and registration, please?” The officer leaned against my window. One hand was hovering over his weapon, the other holding a light.

  “What’s the problem, officer?” I squinted as I stared up at him. I blinked a few times, trying to focus.

  “Have you been drinking, sir?” He leaned a little closer and began shining his light on the passenger seat of my car.

  “Maybe a little.” I held my thumb and finger up, showing a small amount. I dug my wallet out and handed him my license.

  “I need you step out of the car, Mr. McKay.” He moved back and opened my door.

  “Why?” I was perplexed. I’d been stopped before, but was usually let off because of who I was. “Do you know who I am?” My voice rose as I unbuckled and stood.

  “You ran a red light back there, and you were swerving over the center line.” He backed up a little. I need you to hold your arms out level with the ground.” He demonstrated. “Now touch your nose with your index finger.”

  I made contact with my right hand, but ended up poking my eye when I moved the left. “This is ridiculous. I’m right-handed. I can’t do anything with my left.”

  “I need you to stand on one foot for ten seconds.” He remained stone-faced as he stared at me. I lifted my foot off the ground, and began to tip over. I reached out and gr
abbed the roof of my car. “Walk this way, one foot in front of the other.”

  “Can we be done now?” I sighed as I tossed my hands in the air. “I need to get home.”

  “We’re done now.” He reached for the cuffs on his belt. “Easton McKay, you are under arrest for driving under the influence of alcohol. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can’t afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?” He walked me over to his patrol car, opened the back door, and pushed me inside.

  “What about my car?” I slurred the words.

  “Someone will tow it to impound.” He walked over, cut the engine on my car, and grabbed the keys. After radioing it in, he climbed back in the patrol car. “I’m not sure what you’re used to as far as treatment, but here in Miami Dade, we have a no tolerance for drunk driving.”

  “I’m gonna be sick,” I muttered as I leaned forward and emptied my stomach onto the floorboard of his cruiser. This was just one more thing to go wrong tonight.

  ooooooooo

  When we reached the station, I was put in a holding cell. There were a few other people there, and I attempted to pull up the hood on my jacket to hide my face. “Hey! I know you!” one of them shouted, thwarting my attempts to remain anonymous. “Hey!” He shook the guy beside him. “Look who it is.” He grinned, showing some yellowed teeth. “What are you doing in the ‘drunk tank’?” His excitement turned into a confused frown. “You too good to follow the rules? People like you think they can do whatever they want,” he chastised me.

  I tried to ignore him, but he wasn’t having it. “I’m talking to you, Easy!” he barked and the guy he was trying to get the attention of before perked up. “Hey! I do know you.” The guy grinned and they both started to move closer.