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UNBROKEN: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (Midwest Alphas) (Book 2)

Page 4

by Kiss, Tabatha


  “None worth squawking about,” Amy says. She hits the gas and the tires squeal as we speed out of the parking lot.

  “But the Kings have a history of roughing up Dames,” Tobias points out.

  I look at Amy. “Is that true?”

  She shrugs. “A little.”

  “Why haven’t I heard of them before?” I ask.

  “Because they’re a bunch of backwater, misogynistic trash heaps,” she spits. “Legend has it, they were formed by one of Lillian’s jilted ex-lovers, but she’s neither confirmed nor denied the story. There was no point in mentioning them.”

  “Which makes Ryan even more suspicious, Amy,” Tobias points out. “He could be trying to get to you.”

  “You’re so paranoid, Toby,” she teases.

  “But he might not be wrong,” I say. “Do they all have that tattoo?”

  “The crown?” Amy asks.

  “Yeah, the crown.”

  “Only the ones that have won a fight.”

  I stare out my window.

  “What is it, Claire?” Tobias asks, sensing my pause. He leans forward in his seat and I feel his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’ve seen that tattoo before,” I answer.

  “Where?” he asks quickly.

  “Yesterday,” I say, looking at Amy. “There was a man in a black hoodie at the grocery store. He had that same tattoo on his neck.”

  “Are you sure?” Amy asks slowly, the muscles of her arms going stiff against the wheel.

  “I’m positive,” I say. Tobias sits back in his seat as the two of them go silent for a moment. “What does this mean?”

  “It means…” he answers, “that we need to talk to Lillian.”

  “Toby…” Amy sighs. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

  “The Kings move into Alpha territory and one of them shows up a Dame’s place of work?” he argues. “That’s not a coincidence.”

  “He probably just needed some milk or something,” she sighs again.

  “And suddenly, we meet the one King that just so happens to reject the very beliefs that formed their tournament in the first place?” he asks. “Sorry, Amy. He wasn’t flirting with you because he likes you.”

  “Even if he does have a secret agenda, it might not be a bad idea to get under his skin, too,” she says. “A little spy versus spy never hurt anyone.”

  “I beg to differ,” Tobias says.

  She stares at him through her rear view mirror. “Then it’s a good idea I have my trusty bodyguard around, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not your bodyguard,” he replies. “I’m Claire’s bodyguard.”

  “And since she’s shadowing me, it won’t be that exhausting of an effort. If I’m safe, she’s safe.”

  “All the more reason to stay away from the Kings, Amy.”

  I turn around in my seat. “Do you two need a few minutes alone or something?” I quip.

  Tobias sighs. “Fine. Do whatever you want, Amy. Just leave Claire out of it.”

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll call Lillian tonight and let her know,” she says, glancing back at him through the rear view mirror. “Okay?”

  “Thank you,” he mutters.

  “In the meantime…” she says with a growing smile. “We have two days to find some fighters.” She pushes her pink sunglasses up her nose and flicks the turn signal to show we’re exiting the highway.

  I look back at Tobias once again and we silently share eyes. I don’t know anything at all about these Double Ex Kings, but one thing is certain. They’ve definitely got him rattled. It’s strange to see him like this. He’s always been so calm and collected, especially before a fight.

  He gives a quick smile and my heart beats a little faster.

  ***

  Luckily, the Kings’ influence hasn’t seeped into other towns near home. Amy and I are easily able to pick out nearly two dozen potential fighters from our area. This is far too many to bring to the first fight out in St. Louis on Friday night, so Amy mentions a tryouts of sorts to narrow the list down. We sit in her car, resting in the driveway while she taps out various texts on her phone.

  I glance back at Tobias again. The setting sun rests behind his head, casting an orange light through his black hair. He looks me up and down and a shudder trails up my back. After a long day of following Amy around and meeting fighters, I want nothing more than to relax with Tobias on our date.

  “Okay,” Amy announces. She slides her phone back into her purse. “The short list has been notified. Tryouts are tonight at ten in the basement of the school.”

  “Tonight?” I ask, my eyes falling on Tobias.

  “Tonight,” Amy repeats.

  “Well, we have…”

  “Too bad,” she says. “Clear your schedule. Alpha business is more important. Meet me at the school by nine.”

  “You just said ten,” I argue.

  “You’re staff now, kid,” she says. “You have to show up early. Nine. Don’t be late.”

  I sigh as the relaxing night with Tobias drifts farther outside my reach. “What happens at these tryouts?” I ask her.

  “It’s basically a little mini-tournament. They fight. We watch. We pick out the ones with the most promise.” She looks at Tobias and smiles. “Remember your tryout, Toby? I was so proud of you…”

  Tobias says nothing.

  “What’d he do?” I ask with curiosity.

  He sighs, but that doesn’t stop Amy from answering. “He knocked out a guy in a single punch.”

  My temperature spikes. “You did?” I ask him.

  “Granted, the guy was a total wuss,” she adds. “But it was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen — with the obvious exception of watching him pull a freakin’ knife out of his side and then proceed to completely beat the hell out of Pike. That was extraordinary.”

  I bite my lip. “Yeah, it was.” He meets my eyes again. “Was that the night you two…?”

  “Oh, my god…” Amy looks at Tobias with amused surprise. “You told her about that?”

  “We should probably get going now,” he says quickly. He pushes the backseat open and steps out onto the gravel driveway, slamming the door closed behind him as he goes. I watch him wander up to the house and walk inside.

  Amy chuckles and her body quivers with excitement. “Oh, I love tryouts!” She points a stiff finger at me. “Remember! Nine!”

  I nod and open the door to follow Tobias outside. She drives off quickly, a white cloud of gravel dust trailing behind her as she zooms down the road faster than necessary. I walk across the driveway and step into the house to find Charlie sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Hey, Charlie,” I greet.

  He glances up from his paper. “Hello,” he says. “And where have you two been today?”

  I shrug and wander over to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “Just hanging out with Amy. We’re going to see a movie later on tonight, I think,” I say, laying the groundwork for a lie. It stings, to be honest. He doesn’t deserve to be lied to, but I know there’s no way I can ever tell him about the Alpha Dames.

  “Sounds fun,” he says. “Staying out of trouble?”

  I twist off the cap and bring the bottle to my lips. “Of course,” I say.

  “Good.”

  I turn around and step out of the kitchen, trying very hard to ignore the stabbing guilt in my chest. Luckily, I hear Tobias walking around upstairs and it’s enough of a distraction for me to latch onto. I climb up the stairs and turn the corner to see his bedroom door standing slightly ajar. His shape moves about his room and I watch him through the small crack before pushing it open with my foot and leaning against the door frame.

  “Sorry,” I whisper. I keep my voice low enough, only for Tobias’ ears, knowing full well how easily sound carries throughout this house.

  “For what?” he asks out of the corner of his mouth. He stops in front of me.

  “For Amy and her awful timing.”

  He smiles. “Don�
��t worry about it.” He leans in closer and kisses my forehead. “We’ll get a second shot at a first date.”

  “There you go again…” I joke. “Saying the perfect thing.”

  “Is Dad still downstairs?” he whispers. I nod. Before I can say a word, he pulls me closer and attacks my lips with a few silent, but eager, kisses. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day…”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Watching you… do what you do,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “I love it.”

  I roll my eyes. “I haven’t really done anything…”

  “Yes, you have,” he claims. “Trust me.” He kisses me again, sucking lightly on my bottom lip, nestling it between his teeth. It takes every ounce of my self-control to keep me from pushing him into his bedroom and mounting him on his bed.

  “Careful…” I remind him, curbing my own renegade pulse. He nods and pulls away, but I can tell he doesn’t want to. “Save it for later,” I tease.

  A smile climbs to his lips and he points a playful finger in my direction. “You torture me, Claire Holloway,” he mutters, placing his hand on the the door knob.

  “Good,” I say as I retreat into my room. I keep my eyes on him until the last moment before both of our doors close behind us.

  Chapter 4

  Be Like Bowie

  I step outside into the driveway and spot Tobias near the barn, leaning back against his motorbike, waiting for me to join him. The bright white light above the barn illuminates his face beneath the blanket of stars above our heads and I see that familiar, devilish smirk slide across his face with each step I take closer to him.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” I ask him, chuckling softly.

  He stands up tall and holds out a hand to stop me. “I got you something,” he says.

  “A gift?” I ask, quickening my pace across the driveway instead of stopping.

  “It was for date night,” he says, “but just because that got rescheduled, doesn’t mean the gift should, too.” He holds up his hand again. “Stop.”

  I halt my stride a few feet away from him. “What is it?” I ask excitedly.

  “Close your eyes,” he says. I sigh, but do as I’m told. “No peeking.”

  “I’m not peeking.” I listen closely, hearing his shoes against the gravel road before finally stopping in front of me.

  “Eyes still closed?”

  “Yes.” I squeeze them closed a little tighter and the entire spectrum turns black.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hold out your hands.” I do so, counting the seconds as they pass by slower than usual. Finally, a large, round object lands between my palms. “You can open them now.”

  My eyes flash open to inspect the strange weight in my hands. It’s a safety helmet, sleek and black — just like his. Small, lighter, but just as sturdy. “It’s a helmet!” I shout with a smile, rotating it around to get views from all angle.

  Tobias takes it from me and holds it above my head. “I figured that since we’re going to be riding around a lot together — once again…” I let him slip it onto my head, “you needed your own helmet.”

  “Good idea,” I say.

  “How’s it feel?” he asks.

  “Perfect,” I say, shaking my head around. It feels so much lighter on my shoulders than his massive helmet. I no longer feel the rough and heavy pressure against my neck, just begging to make my small, dainty frame topple over at the slightest gust of wind.

  “Comfortable?”

  “Extremely,” I answer, playing with the tinted eye guard, flicking it up and down. “Does it look as badass though?”

  He chuckles. “Yes. I think.”

  I grab the helmet and pull it off to inspect the outside again. “It wasn’t too expensive?” I ask.

  “Of course it was,” he jokes. “If there’s one thing you don’t skimp on, it’s safety gear.”

  “Good point.” I push up onto my tippy toes to kiss him and his hands fall to my waist. “Thank you, Tobias. I love it.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he says, his warm breath rushing past my cheek. “I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it.”

  “I never doubted you,” I say.

  “Good,” he says. “We should get going. If we’re late, Amy will get mad.”

  I slowly grip his jacket, pulling him closer. “Let her get mad,” I whisper before planting another kiss on his lips.

  ***

  The old, abandoned school looks just as decrepit and run down as it did last year. We haven’t been back since the last fight here, but as Tobias and I roll into the parking lot, it feels like it was only yesterday. I immediately recognize Amy’s sports car in the lot, the recently-waxed exterior practically glowing in the moonlight.

  Tobias leads me inside, staying a step ahead of me as we navigate the long, dark hallways. It makes me a bit nostalgic as I recall Amy’s simple instructions. Find a door marked basement. Then, just follow the noise.

  There’s no noise this time, save the soft clicking of Amy’s heels as we step closer to the arena door.

  As Tobias pushes the door open, we immediately hear her voice from the other side of the vacant gym. “You’re late!”

  I smile. “It’s nine-oh-two,” I point out.

  “Still late,” she says. “Tobias, come here — I can’t reach this outlet.”

  He walks over to her and I gaze around the place. It’s dark, really dark, in every corner, but I suppose that’s why she’s working to get the lights back on. I step closer to the makeshift octagonal arena, seemingly the only place in the room with a working light source above it, and pull open the rusty cage door to step inside. It feels strange to be on the other side of this, looking out at where the crowd would gather to watch me give, or take, a beating. Standing on the outside, looking in, it feels so much safer.

  A burst of sparks shine out from above their heads across the room, followed quickly by a surge of electric charge. “Everything okay?” I ask. Just as the phrase leaves my mouth, the lights around the room flicker on, finally illuminating the expectant space.

  “Yep!” Amy calls. “No problem. Everything works.”

  “Tobias—?”

  “I’m okay,” he groans. “This system is almost fried, Amy. You might want to start looking for a new place to hold fights.”

  “Bite your tongue, Toby,” she scoffs. “This school has housed Alpha fights for over a decade. You don’t mess with tradition.”

  “Well, unless you plan on hosting fights by candlelight this season, you might want to find a new generator before this one explodes.”

  “Anyway…” Amy mutters as she reaches into her bag. “Tryouts.” I step out of the ring and follow Amy back to the table by the door. She grabs a clipboard and holds it out to me. “You have your fighters, Claire. Choose wisely.”

  My fingers twitch so suddenly, the clipboard nearly topples out of my hands. “I’m sorry, what?”

  She chews on her inner cheek with devious red lips. “You heard me,” she says.

  “But I’m not—” My tongue turns to stone in my mouth. “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can,” she chuckles. “It’s easy. Just choose the most skilled fighters with the biggest chance of winning Alpha. Piece of cake.”

  “But I’m not qualified for that,” I argue. “You can’t put this on me!”

  “I’m not,” she laughs. “I’ll be right beside you the entire time. My insight is yours to pick at, but I want you to take point. You’ll never learn to swim if you don’t dive into the deep end.”

  “Yes, but… you usually start in the shallow end with an inflatable tube. You don’t just shove someone into the deep end and expect them to not sink to the bottom.”

  “That’s exactly how my dad taught me how to swim,” she jokes.

  “Mine, too,” Tobias adds.

  “Not helping,” I whine at him.

  “You’ll be fine,” Amy insists. “Just dog p
addle through it, but do it gracefully.”

  I stare at the clipboard and fancy chart Amy must have created before driving out here with a list of all of the potential Alphas. “Graceful dog paddle…” I mutter to myself.

  Amy wanders off again, this time grabbing a dust broom from her supplies near the door and taking it with her to the ring to attack the layer of dust that’s gathered in the last year. I keep glancing at the clipboard, blinking quickly to combat the blurring vision taking hold of my optic nerve.

  “Claire,” Tobias says, “You okay?”

  I force the excess saliva down my throat before I choke on it. “Peachy…”

  “You’ll be fine,” he chuckles. “Amy’s not going to let you make the wrong decisions here. She’d never risk her bonus for bringing in another Alpha.”

  I nod. “Makes sense.”

  He snatches the clipboard from my hand, jolting my senses to shift their attentions towards him instead. “Be like Bowie, Claire.”

  I furrow my brow, the words jarring a memory in my head; the sudden sensation of lying awake at 3 A.M. with Tobias’ old headphones in my ears. “Be like Bowie?”

  “Be like Bowie,” he repeats.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means wear your confidence on the outside,” he explains. “You can be as nervous as all hell on the inside, but if you don’t show it, then they’ll never know.”

  “Were you nervous before your tryouts?” I ask him.

  “I’ve never been in a fight that didn’t make me nervous,” he admits.

  I raise an eyebrow. “You always seem so calm. Like… all the time.”

  He smiles. “It takes many hours of practice to be as stoic as I am.”

  “I have twenty minutes,” I say.

  “Use it,” he says. “Take that gut-wrenching fear and use it. Channel it towards your strengths. Your opponent should never be able to read your thoughts. The moment they do, they own you. If they can never read you, then you’ll always have the upper hand.”

  “Sounds like you’re ready for a fight, Tobias,” I tease. “You sure you’re retired?”

  “Pretty sure,” he answers. “I have something more important to throw my energy into now.”

 

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