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

by Kiss, Tabatha

  “Bummer,” I say, biting my lip.

  “Okay—” Amy croaks, her heels sliding against the concrete floor back to us. She tosses the broom to the side and it clatters to the floor near the door. “Lights are on. Ring is clean. What am I forgetting? Oh—!” She bends over and grabs her bag off the table. “I have something for you, Claire…”

  “What?” I ask, feeling more nervous than before. I don’t think I can handle another last minute surprise from Amy Jones tonight.

  She takes something out of the bag, something small enough to fit inside the palm of her hand, and turns around to face me. “It’s my honor to present to you… your very own… whistle!” She lets the metal whistle tumble from her hand and it hangs down from the chain tangled up in her fingers.

  “I get a whistle?” I ask with more excitement than I ever expected.

  “Well, it’s mine, technically…” she says, “But you can borrow it tonight.” She lets it slip into my hand and I catch it before it falls to the floor. “Air freshener!” she suddenly says with a snap of her fingers. “That’s what I forgot. It smells like dead rats in here. I’ll be right back. It’s in the car.”

  I stare at the whistle while she quickly marches out of the basement, the sound of her heels echoing off down the hall. “Tobias…” I begin.

  “Yes?”

  “You said to channel my fear towards my strengths,” I say with shaking voice. “What are my strengths?”

  He pauses and lets the air cycle through his lungs before speaking. “I don’t really have an answer for that, Claire,” he says. “That’s up to you.”

  I nod, trying to come up with the answer for myself, but my mind draws nothing but blanks.

  “But mine…” he says. “My strength was Mary.”

  A small, regretful smile touches my lips. “That’s really sweet, Tobias,” I say.

  “I didn’t want to let her down,” he says. “Didn’t matter much in the end, I guess…”

  “Yes, it did.” I shift towards him with a slow step. “I know I didn’t know her at all, but I can’t imagine any scenario exists where she wouldn’t have been proud of what you did for her. I am, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re probably right.” He smiles, letting his eyes linger on mine. “Does that help?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, my heart swelling in my chest. “It does.”

  I look to the door as the tapping of Amy’s heels return to the hallway outside. “Looks like our boys are starting to arrive,” she mentions as she steps inside with an aerosol can in her hand.

  I inhale sharply and hold my breath until I can’t hold it anymore.

  ***

  Of the two dozen fighters we spoke with earlier today, only about half of them have shown up. I take it as a small victory, one that would make my life a little easier, but I still have my work cut out for me tonight.

  I look down at the clipboard, my eyes scanning their names once more. Tobias lingers over my shoulder behind me, the ever-silent guardian, while Amy stands before us, addressing the fighters with enough pep in her voice to choke a mule.

  “Each fight will be timed,” she explains. “You have sixty seconds to impress us, gentlemen. I urge you all to make every second count. Only three of you will be chosen to fight in the tournament. Do you have any questions?”

  A hand immediately shoots up in the air, belonging to a tall man in the center of the line.

  “Yes, Mike?” Amy says.

  The man steps forward and the light strikes him at a better angle. I see his blond hair, nearly white in shade, and repeat his name over and over again in my head to memorize it against his face. “Yeah—” Mike points behind her at Tobias. “Is he fighting tonight?”

  Amy glances over her shoulder. “No, he is not.”

  “But aren’t you the Alpha?” Another one speaks up — short, but bulky with tan skin and a pierced eyebrow — shooting his question towards Tobias.

  “He’s retired,” she explains, the words instantly met with a series of groans from a few of the veteran fighters. “I know, I know…” She waves her hand to silence them. “We’re all very disappointed.”

  “I was hoping for a rematch, Tobias,” Mike adds. “I can finally breathe through my nose again.”

  I crane my neck to look behind me at Tobias just in time to see his lips curl on one side.

  “I barely recognized you without that wheezing sound, Mike,” he quips.

  The men chuckle softly and Amy clears her throat to regain their attentions. “Anyway… I’m going to turn you all over to my apprentice, Claire. She’s our newest Alpha Dame, but I expect each of you to treat her with the same respect you show me.”

  A crippling stage freight clutches my skin as I hear my name rush through her lips. Over a dozen pairs of eyes fall on me and I suddenly forget how to speak.

  “Newest Dame?” The man on the far right calls out. I recall his name easily, Devlin, because it showed up in one of Mary’s sappy romance novels I read recently. “Since when?”

  “Since now,” Amy spits, feeling no further need to explain more than that. “Claire, they’re all yours.”

  I step forward, seemingly driven by a force I clearly have no direct power over. Raw energy flows through my limbs. My ears pop. I suddenly feel an itch on the end of my nose, but I can’t bring myself to scratch it. “Hi,” I say, my voice soft and cuddly as a newborn kitten.

  Channel it towards your strengths.

  I think of Tobias, feeling his eyes on the back of my head. I don’t dare turn around to look at him. Doing so could be perceived as weakness. These men are not my enemies, but I take his words to heart. I’ll never earn their respect by showing weakness. I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back to stand a little taller.

  “We don’t have a whole lot of time here tonight, gentlemen, so we’ll dive on in.” I hold up the clipboard. “Our first fight will be between—”

  “Amy, I don’t like this.”

  The interruption comes from the far left, a voice so deep I can feel it rumble in my chest.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  A man steps forward, the bright whites of his eyes standing out against his black skin. “I said, I don’t like this,” he says, glancing right past me to look at Amy.

  “Be more specific, Trevor,” Amy says.

  “She doesn’t have any right to be here,” he says.

  “That’s not up to you,” she fires back at him.

  His eyes finally flick in my direction. “I recognize you…” he says with a repulsive sneer. “You’re that chick that started showing up last season, following Tobias around like a bitch in heat.”

  “That’s enough, Trevor,” Amy bites.

  “You earned your place in the Dames, Amy. I’ll fight for you until the day I die,” he adds. “What the hell as she done other than be the Alpha’s willing pet?”

  I feel Tobias rush passed my shoulder, but I quickly hold out my arm to force him back. “No—” I say, holding him in place. “Let the man speak his mind.” I step forward with a steady stride, pausing only when I reach him. “I mean, he’s not wrong, right?”

  “Damn straight,” he says, his brown eyes boring down on me.

  I look at my clipboard. “Trevor, correct?” I ask.

  “That’s me,” he confirms. “Trevor the Terror.”

  I grin. “So, you’ve competed before?”

  “Yes, I have. This’ll be my third tournament.”

  “I like the name,” I say, throwing every bit of caution into the wind. “It’s… cute.”

  He flexes his jaw, unamused by my comment and angered by the quick snickers coming from his fellow men. “Look, lady,” he seethes. “I don’t have to stand here and—”

  “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I say, my heart racing in my chest, fueling my words with a warm fire. “Because, you see… you actually do have to stand here and listen to me because if you don’t, you don’t have a chance in hell of setting foot in th
e ring ever again — not that anyone would miss you since I’ve never even heard of you before despite your claim to fighting in two previous tournaments.” He opens his lips, just aching to speak up, but I quickly raise my voice to cut him off. “Tell me something, Trev — If you were in my shoes, would you waste your time on a fighter that’s already failed to make an impression? I mean, you’ve been eliminated from this tournament twice by your own admission. Are you a third times the charm kind of guy? Give me one good reason why I should expect a different outcome from you this time.”

  Hot air fumes through his nose. “You’ve got some brass balls, lady,” he mutters, amusement crossing his eyes.

  “Two brass balls, zero patience, and a ballpoint pen,” I add, clicking the pen with my thumb. “I can mark you off right now. Just say the word.” I lay the pen point against his name on the paper and let the threat linger in thick air between us. My entire body screams with agonizing anticipation. I will my nerves to chill, forcing every bit of fear I have into them to keep me frozen solid beneath him. It’s a confidence I’ve never in my life experienced before, even if it’s just a clever ruse to display what little dominance I have inside of me.

  Finally, Trevor’s eyes break away from mine and he takes a step back. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says. “I was out of line.”

  I smile, holding back my sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I say. I glance at the other men, making sure to make eye contact with each of them as I scan the line. “If anyone else has a problem with me, the door is right behind us. If not, I think we’ve wasted enough time.” I turn away and walk back to my place beside Amy. “Trevor here has volunteered to go first. Mike, you’ll be joining him.”

  The two of them step towards the arena and I turn around to hide my face from them. I squeeze my eyes shut and fill my lungs with stale, can-scented air. Blood and adrenaline rush through my body, charging every system to the next level. I’m pumped, wild, and incredibly turned on.

  I open my eyes and look at Tobias to see his own super-charged passions filling his eyes. He smiles at me, holding himself back as the rest of them circle the arena.

  “Okay,” I say, gripping the metal whistle around my neck and bringing it to my lips. “Let’s get started.”

  ***

  “So, what do you think?” Amy asks with her arms cross about her chest. We break away from the crowd and let the fighters chat among themselves while we ponder our options.

  “Well, I know he’s your friend, but I think Trevor’s out,” I say.

  Amy rolls her eyes. “I know. I never would have given him a second chance last time if I didn’t have Tobias to fall back on for the district.”

  “Noticeable lack of Tobias’ out there,” I point out.

  “Yeah, I miss Tobias,” she whines.

  “I’m standing right here,” he says, lingering over our shoulders.

  “Are you rejoining the tournament?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re dead to me,” she snaps.

  He sighs and takes a step back. I smile at him with an apologetic glance, but I think he knows he walked into that one. Tobias was truly a one of a kind fighter, someone that’s not easily replaceable.

  I scan the group again, my eyes falling on their faces, nearly each one freshly bruised, but smiling. “Devlin has a mean hook,” I state, recalling the way it whacked Greg’s face. “And the way he dodged that kick was impressive…”

  “Not hard on the eyes either…” Amy says with a raised brow, her tongue spreading across her lips for a brief second.

  “Excuse me… Tobias?”

  We look over to find see one of them wandering over to Tobias. I quickly glance at my notes on the clipboard to recall his name. Short, dirty blond hair. Red shirt. Must be Kris.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” he continues, clearing his throat, “but would you do me honor of punching me in the face?”

  “What?” Tobias asks, his face contorted with confusion.

  “You’re the Alpha,” Kris says, his voice full of wonder. “It would just make my day.”

  I grin, fighting to hold back my laughter as Tobias’ eyes look around. “You want me to hit you…” he says slowly.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tobias sighs, but I notice the fingers of his fist curling in. I bite my lip as that rush of warmth attacks between my thighs. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him hit anything other than a quick demonstration at the punching bag. “You sure?” he asks Kris, shifting his feet into a fighting stance.

  “Absolutely!”

  His enthusiasm draws the eyes of everyone else in the room. Tobias glances around, his eyes sweeping towards mine, before he finally chuckles. “Okay…”

  Kris bounces on his toes and shakes out his body, preparing for the hit with a long grin on his lips. “Yes, yes…” he says. “I’m ready.”

  Tobias shakes his head as he settles into his classic fighting pose. He raises his hands up to protect his face, an old habit I don’t think he’ll ever break. Kris leans forward, exposing his mug to him, and closes his eyes as Tobias draws back his right fist.

  I draw in a breath, refusing to blink and miss it. My mouth waters, my toes tingle. I wait for that satisfying smack of knuckles against skin, my body quivering with delight.

  His fist connects with Kris’ eye and he snaps it back into place before Kris’ knees buckle and he tumbles to the floor below them. The other guys wince, each one of them feeling the blow for themselves in their heads, before issuing a short round of applause. Kris writhes on the dirty floor with his hand hovering over his right eye, his moans of pain morphing into a pleasing bit of laughter.

  “You all right?” Tobias asks, stepping forward with his hand extended out.

  “That… was… awesome,” Kris says. He takes Tobias’ hand and he easily lifts him off the floor. I see his eye beneath the flickering lights above. A brand new bruise is forming, leaving his skin pink and red. “Thank you!”

  Tobias pats the kid’s shoulder. “No problem…” he mutters with an awkward voice. I chuckle softly, drawing his eyes in my direction. I don’t think Tobias ever imagined he’d become so popular. He never fought for the underground fame and glory that’s promised when you join the Midwest Alphas. He had other, more important, reasons for throwing those punches, but no one else knew that. To them, he’s Tobias the Untouchable — the man that took a shiv to the side and still won.

  “So…” Amy says, stepping into my eye line to block my view of Tobias. “Who else?”

  “Umm…” I pause, unable to remember what I was doing. My attentions are stuck, trapped on Tobias as he fields more questions from the enamored Kris. A few more of them gather around them to listen in. “I, uhh—”

  “Oh, for god’s sake, you can hump him later,” Amy scolds me and snaps her fingers three times in front of my face. “I need names.”

  I close my eyes to concentrate my focus. “Right…” I mutter. “Devlin seems like a good choice.”

  She nods. “I agree.”

  “And I’d like to see more of Levi…”

  Amy hums to herself, her own eyes scanning the group. “I’d go with Sam over Levi.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “He did really well in the last tournament before Pike destroyed him,” she says. “You remember? He tapped out your first night.”

  “That was him?” I ask. I look him up and down from across the room. “He looks…”

  “Leaner and meaner,” she finishes. “I think he’s worth giving a second shot.”

  “Let’s do it,” I nod.

  “One more.”

  I look up and find Tobias in the crowd again. I’d love so much to say his name, to bring him back into the fray as Lillian wants me to, but he’s made up his mind. I chew on my lip. “Well, the rest of them seem awfully inexperienced…”

  “So was Tobias,” she reminds me.

  “What about Mike?” I ask.

  She glances over her shoulder.
“Every time I look at him, I picture his face slamming against the floor after Tobias punched him,” she chuckles.

  “But tonight…” I say, “he held his own.”

  “Yeah, against Trevor,” she says. “Not that difficult a task.”

  “I have a good feeling about him.”

  “A rookie mistake,” she smiles, “but everybody gets one. Devlin, Sam, and Mike it is then.”

  “Not a bad line-up,” I say. “I wish we knew who the other districts are bringing in…”

  “That’s part of the game. That’s what makes the first fight of the season so important. A trained eye will know exactly who’s in it to win it after that. Hell, I’ve had fighters bow out completely after seeing who they’re up against.”

  I blink. “Damn. Really?” I look at my chosen three again and wonder if any of them seem like the type to stray.

  “We have some really tough standards here,” she continues. “Many other tournaments last months. Ours is weeks. With a fight a week, our boys aren’t given a lot of time to recuperate between matches.”

  I flinch slightly, remembering how beaten up Tobias was by the end of it all last time. “Yeah, why is that?” I ask.

  She smiles and looks over her shoulder until her eyes find Tobias. “Because only a true Alpha makes it to the end. It’s why our tournament is so highly respected. That title doesn’t go to just anybody. The last man standing fucking deserves it.”

  My body quivers, once again imagining Tobias in that ring covered with sweat and a little bit of blood. My Alpha. “Guess we should tell them, then…” I mutter.

  “After you, madame.” She makes a pushing motion with her fingers and we walk back over to the expecting crowd, each one of them pretending not to look as nervous as they do.

  “Gentlemen,” I say after a quick, but deep, breath, “we’ve made our decision.”

  “I want you all to know that this wasn’t an easy choice,” Amy interjects, her voice kind and professional. “If we didn’t choose you, do not be discouraged. Rejection is not a sign of weakness; it’s a challenge to get better and try again. I expect to see many of you again next year.”