Tense and ready to snap, I jump to my feet, eager to get out of the cramped space. “Fine.”
Without sparing him a final look, I storm out of Gabriel’s office and make my way to Britt’s treatment room. Her back is to me when I enter the room and drop into my usual seat.
As quiet as I am most of the time, today I’m thoroughly irritated and therefore pretty loud when I stomp in and take a seat. Oddly, Britt doesn’t seem to hear me at all. I clear my throat so I won’t startle her like that asshole Max loves to do.
Britt glances my way and smiles, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. What the fuck? Why is it the only two people in the world who treat me like I’m human both work here, in the very city where my humanity was stripped away? It pisses me off that they don’t get it. Mostly because being treated kindly makes the guilt even worse, gnawing at what little is left of my hollow insides. I can’t allow her to see me as human when I’m not.
“K, you’re early,” she chirps, just as happy and normal as could be.
I grunt out a response. “Yeah.”
As usual, she pretends I’m polite instead of a massive dick.
“Okay, give me a minute to boot up my laptop. I want to show you something quick, then we can move out to the cage.”
Also as usual, Britt yanks her chair from behind her desk to cozy up next to me so we can both see the computer screen at once. Her loose blonde hair brushes my shoulder and I catch the faint scent of citrus. When her hand accidentally touches mine, I nearly fly out of my seat. It’s as if a million tiny sparks ignite my skin, blazing hot, the heat singeing me from the base of my spine to the top of my skull.
I’m so fucking confused and stressed out, I don’t hear a word Britt says. My body wanted Britt the first time I laid eyes on her. I held back because she’s too good, too innocent, and certainly not deserving of the shitty treatment I’d give her. Yet Britt sparks an emotion in me I thought died with my little sister. Something besides the need to satisfy raw animal lust.
Desire? Affection? Adoration?
Shit, I sound like a pussy. By the time I pull my head out of my ass, Britt is staring at me, waiting for me to speak. When I don’t, her pink lips turn down in the corners.
“K?”
“What?” I snap, annoyed at Gabriel, annoyed at the way Britt dredges up feelings I gave up on years ago, annoyed at myself for having any feelings at all. Hurt shines behind those wide blue eyes, but Britt collects herself quickly and it’s gone in a single blink.
“Are you ready to try out the new positions?”
My mind instantly goes to all of the positions I want to try with Britt and my dick gets embarrassingly hard—pounding her from behind, thrusting into that inviting mouth… Shit. Once again, I silently thank my athletic cup for saving me from humiliation. At this rate, I’ll need to wear it all the damn time.
“Uh,” I swallow, nervous for the first time in god knows how long. “S-sure?”
Britt is momentarily stunned, certainly a result of the rare crack in my armor. She shakes her head and stands. “Let’s go.”
Britt
K is acting weird today. Okay, he’s always weird, but this is different. He’s almost… shy? Embarrassed? Either way, the silent confidence he projects is gone, or flickering in and out, allowing me a few wonderful moments with the real K. The one I’m certain he hides behind that big old tattooed alpha exterior.
Without saying a word—big shock—K follows me to cage six. The grappling dummy, a black and red leather figure, is splayed out obscenely on the mat, waiting for us. Heat floods my face. Max positioned the damn thing on its back, legs spread and pointing upward, as if held in place by invisible gynecological stirrups.
“What’s up first?”
“Eeep!” K’s sudden presence at my side draws a humiliating noise out of me and I wobble. Catching myself, I turn to face him, unprepared to control my reaction. My mouth drops open at the sight. K is already shirtless, exposing a tantalizing expanse of tan skin, defined muscles, and dark black slashes of ink. All within inches of my now itchy fingers.
“Sorry,” he grunts, his huge hand wrapping around my wrist to keep me steady. The touch sends a spark straight between my legs.
Oh. My. God.
“Ummmm, I… I’m okay. Thanks.” Our eyes lock and my heart leaps into my throat. Mesmerized, I stare at his molten silver irises as the black of his pupils enlarges, eclipsing nearly all of the extraordinary color.
Those eyes.
I can’t put my finger on it but they remind me of… of something. Something just out of reach, but I’m not sure what it is. It’s like déjà vu but not quite. Without thinking, I raise my hand to touch his face, desperate to understand, desperate for physical contact, desperate to see if K can give me the serenity I crave.
“Are you guys ready?”
Max’s loud question breaks us apart. I yank my hand back to my side. K actually cringes and if I didn’t spot the crimson streaks on his cheeks, I would never have believed the man could actually blush.
“We’re ready,” I reply with more confidence than I should be able to manage.
“Good.” Max snaps, entering the cage, K hot on his heels.
Oh great. First K, now Max is in rare form today.
I stand by the cage, confused by the images running through my mind. K’s eyes, they seemed… I can’t explain it. Familiar? And not because I’ve been obsessed with their unique color since the first day he arrived at the gym. He so rarely allows eye contact, it’s not as if I’ve gotten anywhere near as acquainted with them as I’d like. I could stare into them for hours at a time.
The unsettling sensation has my heart beating wildly, which is irritating considering I have no idea why I’m so unnerved.
“Earth to Britt!”
Once again, I’m caught spacing out. In the ring in front of me, Max and K are staring, waiting for me to join them. Max has his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice.
“No need to shout, Max,” I retort, stomping up the steps and letting myself into the cage. “We won’t be filming today, so you can go.”
Max frowns, his entire body going rigid at my dismissal. “I’m supposed to help,” he insists.
The hostile expression Max shoots my way sends chills down my spine and an uneasy ache into my stomach. Max is pissed off to say the least, only I don’t know why and frankly, I don’t care, but my voice catches in my throat, along with any argument I had at the ready to tell Max off.
K must sense my discomfort, because he does something I’ve never, ever seen him do. Something I never imagined he could do. He gets visibly pissed and shouts. Loud.
“Did you hear what she said?” K takes a deliberate step into Max’s space. Max blanches, his hands trembling just enough to notice. “Don’t fucking look at her or talk to her like that again,” K growls, fists clenched and brows pulled tight over hardened eyes. Eyes that aren’t hidden by a baggy hood.
Max stumbles back. “I-I wasn’t—”
“Leave!” K’s voice is so thunderous the entire gym goes silent. It’s probably the first time most of these people have heard his voice. I stand, shocked, as Max scrambles for the stairs, hurries out of the cage, and up the stairs to the employee lounge.
I glance around, unsure of what to do next. Everyone is staring. K doesn’t seem to care or notice. He steps out of the octagon and walks over, his loud, booming voice now a soft, near-whisper.
“Are you okay?”
I flush and a nervous giggle escapes. “Are you really asking me that?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” I correct when one of K’s eyebrows lifts accusingly. “Max just… I mean, he’s never acted like this before, but lately he’s just off. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
Now, confused instead of furious, K’s brow furrows over those stunning eyes again. “I don’t understand you,” he admits.
K is willingly meeting my gaze. Only this time it’s K trying to figure me out instead of vice versa.
“Not much to understand,” I lie. “I’m not very complicated.”
K leans in closer, only a scant few inches between us. “I disagree. You’re very complicated and I want to figure out every single thing about you.” Hypnotized, I stare into those deep, silver pools. My stomach flutters, the same sense of déjà vu returning, only to slip away before I can make sense of it.
“I-I’m really not.”
K frowns, as if it pains him to continue. But he does, and it’s the most I’ve heard him speak at one time.
“Britt, you’re the only girl… no, the only woman who isn’t afraid of me. Who…” He pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
Is K nervous?
“You’re the only one who doesn’t see it,” K whispers.
God, I want so badly for him to throw his arms around me, wrap me up in his strength, comfort me and shield me from danger while I spill my secrets to this broken, shuttered-up man. Right now though, it seems he’s the one who needs to be held, to be reassured.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I like what I see.”
This time, K cringes at my words, inhaling a shaky breath as he responds. “That’s the problem.”
5
Killer
“You’re ready.” Gabriel clamps a heavy hand down on my shoulder, his face lit up with a grin. “AFL has you down for your first fight next month.”
“Where?” I allow Gabriel to steer me toward his office, but at the last minute, he surprises me by pushing me into Britt’s.
Britt is sitting behind her desk when we enter, me stumbling forward and Gabriel hanging back a few steps. She stops typing and stands.
“You told him?” she asks, her eyes darting back and forth between Gabriel and me.
“Not yet. I was waiting to tell him with you,” Gabriel says proudly.
I wait, silent, as the two of them do some sort of wordless dance involving a lot of wide eyes and lifted brows.
“Fine, mina filha. I will tell him.” Gabriel faces us both but makes eye contact with me. “You will be on the same card as the welterweight title fight. This is a big deal for a newcomer.”
I must be gaping like a fish, because Gabriel and Britt laugh, indulgent smiles on their proud faces.
“The Battaglia vs. Gomes card?” I trained with Hugo Gomes at Rafael’s gym in Brazil. He’s amazing.
“That’s the one.” Gabriel gestures toward Britt. “Britt here will be traveling with us to Las Vegas for the fight. We need her to make sure you stay in top form.”
I’m at a loss for words. Not only will I be fighting on a major card in Vegas, but these two people, people I only just met, honest to god believe in me. As a person, not just a fighter.
“I’m speechless,” I admit.
Britt snorts. “Like that’s new.”
Gabriel laughs loudly and I can’t help myself, I join in, my face splitting in a huge grin. Maybe my laugh isn’t as big or attractive as theirs, but it’s real. This is the first true moment of joy I’ve experienced in ten years.
“Well, meu filho,” Gabriel rubs his hands together in excitement. “I’m going to plan our trip. I need both of you in my office at three to go over the details.”
Gabriel smiles before leaving Britt and me alone in awkward silence. At least, I find it awkward. Britt has no problem being alone with me or filling the silence.
“How exciting!” Britt squeals, her blue eyes bright and shining with pride.
I can’t think of a response to her delighted outburst, instead standing stupidly and picking at the hem of my hoodie. Silent? No. Awkward? Yeah, still awkward.
Her enthusiasm must overwhelm her because next thing I know, Britt’s arms are around me, pulling me into a hug. My shocked brain takes a minute to catch up. When it does, I hesitantly lift my hands to place them on her back.
I must give off some sort of signal when my arms close around her, because Britt instantly melts into my chest and lets out a tiny sigh. Her body relaxes and when it does, I realize how tense her muscles were. Did I relax her? My touch wouldn’t unwind her. I cause fear and pain, not take it away. People do not come to me for comfort.
Completely out of character, I go with my desires and duck my head, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling deep. Citrus combined with the soft scent of femininity hit me hard. How long has it been since I’ve held someone I care about?
I nearly laugh with the ridiculousness of it all. I’ve never held a girl I cared about. I’ve had sex. That’s it. Dirty, raw, sex. No emotions, no connections, nothing but selfish pleasure. But this? It’s different.
And now, I want more.
* * *
“Hey man, congrats on the big card.”
I spin around to come face-to-face with Jackson Wolfe. Wolverine. The nickname makes me want to roll my eyes, but I refrain. Like I can say anything. I’m called Killer, but at least I have a reason. I’m pretty sure he’s not an actual wolf. I stare at the other fighter curiously. This is the first time he’s spoken to me since I knocked him on his ass a few weeks ago. The way he manipulates Britt irritates me to no end, and the phony smile on his face practically invites another punch.
Instead, I keep my expression neutral, as usual, giving him only a slight nod of acknowledgement.
Jackson frowns, not getting the response he desired. “I’m on the same card, so I guess we’ll be traveling together.” He smirks. “And Britt, of course.”
Fuck. Dealing with this idiot while prepping for the biggest fight of my fledgling career is not what I need right now. Plus, he’s right, Britt will be with us as well, so I’m certain my emotions—what very few I have—are going to be in knots. If he starts using Britt to piss me off, it won’t take much to push me into losing my temper.
Instead of answering, I turn and walk away, leaving Wolverine to stew over my obvious brush-off. Fuck him. It’s not required for me to like him. I only have to tolerate him. And be sure not to beat him to death.
Britt and Gabriel are waiting for me in his office so we can start our meeting. After my interaction with Wolfe, I’m seething and frustrated. All I want to do is jump into the cage and beat the fuck out of something, release this shit building up inside. Confusing new emotions like jealousy are dueling with my usual focused, raw fury.
The dark, hollow place in my chest isn’t equipped for this. I fight, I fuck, I exist. Nothing more, nothing less.
Furious, I walk over to Gabriel’s office and shove open the door. It bangs against the wall with a loud crack, causing Gabriel to frown and Britt to cry out. Just like that, she drops to the floor, curling into a ball and covering her head with her hands.
Gabriel leaps to his feet, hurrying around his desk to crouch next to a huddling, quivering Britt. Stunned, I stand at the door frozen, unsure what is going on or what I should do.
“Meu filha! Britt! What is happening?” Gabriel’s voice hitches as he tries to pull Britt out from under his desk. His head whips around to face me. “Killer! ¡Venha aqui e ayudar!” Get over here and help.
I cross the space in two quick steps, approaching Gabriel’s desk from the opposite side. Britt’s tiny frame is tucked into a tight ball, her knees pulled to her chest, head ducked, and arms curled protectively over her head.
Protecting her from what?
“Britt,” I say in as composed of a voice as I can manage, which at this moment, isn’t saying much. Not a lot freaks me out, but right now, watching Britt fall to pieces, has me struggling to keep calm. “Please, come out.”
Britt is quietly sobbing, her body shuddering in fear. Watching her in such obvious distress sends a stabbing pain through my chest. Not sure this is the best thing for her, but not knowing what else to do, I crawl under the desk. Being as large as I am, I can only get my head and shoulders in next to her.
Gabriel slides into nervous, staccato Portuguese. “I w
ill leave you to take care of her. Let me know when she’s feeling better and I will return.” He stands and leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him.
He left me with her?
What the fuck am I supposed to do? At a loss, I do the only thing that comes to mind. It worked to relax her before, so why not? I gather her tiny, trembling body up in my arms, and hold her. Britt immediately unwinds her arms, clutching me tight, burying her face into my shirt, her tears dampening the fabric.
On the floor in my trainer’s office, lying half under a desk, a tiny shard of my black soul becomes human again.
Britt
My frantic pulse slows down the moment K pulls me into the protective circle of his arms. There’s just something about him that brings me peace. He’s able to take away my anxiety with a single touch.
The gunshot-like sound of the door hitting the wall triggered some sort of flashback or deeply buried memory of “the incident.” I’ve remembered bits and pieces of that day here and there, just flashes, never enough to put together anything concrete. The loud bang, however, somehow managed to dig into the deep recesses of my damaged brain to unearth something horrific. A memory.
Me, hiding under something as gunshots ring out.
I shudder, ice trickling over my skin, goose bumps pricking as I replay the memory. Suddenly, K’s hands are there, rubbing up and down my back, warm and comforting. The ice thaws quickly, turning my fear into a flush of heat.
“You okay?” he whispers, his breath ruffling my hair.
I tilt my head back, gazing into those cool, silver eyes. “Y-yes. T-thank you. For…” I swallow, my throat tight as desire burns hot between my thighs. My eyes drop to K’s mouth. Even scowling and bewildered, he’s beautiful.
Is it the memory that makes me so reckless? Is it the fact that we’re tangled together on the floor, our bodies pressed together? Is it the change in K’s carefully detached expression to one of concern?
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