Torn Apart
(The Fatally Flawed Series Book 2)
By: Dusty Lassetter
Torn Apart
a Fatally Flawed novel
Copyright ©2016 by Dusty Lassetter
All rights reserve. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means. Without prior permission from the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are wither products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity.
Prologue
K.J.
The pool hall in this shit hole of a town smells like stale tobacco and Old English Oil. This wooden bar I’m currently sitting at is leaving a residue on the inside of my forearms. Someone really needs to inform the owner that it will take a hell of a lot more than just oil, to make his place look decent. Tapping the surface with my index finger, the bartender brings me another beer.
“That your girl that just walked in?” He asks, motioning his head toward the door.
I don’t have to turn around to see who he is referring to. Candice and I lock eyes in the mirror mounted on the wall, behind the bar. She looks the same as the day she walked out on Jasper. Let’s just hope for her sake, she has formed a backbone since her running act. She may have fooled herself into believing she left my brother broken, to protect him, but I know the truth. She is a coward. If her life taught her anything, it should have been to stay and fight, not flee.
Jasper has spent the last three years spiraling out of control. No one has been able to get through to him. So here I am, about to threaten the very person who started this train wreck. She no longer has a choice. I warned her from day one not to fuck Jasper over. Now she will go back to Tampa and fix what she did. If she refuses, Christopher will not be the only man she needs to run from.
Chapter 1
Jasper
I roll out of bed, slamming my fist down on the alarm that is blaring in my ear. The sound of plastic cracking is all the proof I need to know it is effectively turned off. I look over at the glowing red numbers and realize I am now one hour late for training. My head is throbbing from all those shots of whiskey I consumed last night. I don’t remember much because for the past three years, whiskey has been my go to, so I’m just assuming that’s what has my mouth tasting like roadkill. I vaguely recall fucking some chick behind a bar, possibly in an alley. She had brown hair and big tits, I think she said her name was Brandi or Mandi. It doesn’t matter, I won’t be fucking her again. That is how it works. I get what I need from them, and they get to brag about fucking me, Jasper “The Finisher” Johnathan.
Walking into my bathroom, I don’t bother looking in the mirror. I know what I’ll see. I haven’t shaved my face in days, so the stubble is starting to become the beginnings of a beard. My hair is longer than ever, covering my eyes almost completely. I now have a scar above my left eyebrow from a brawl I got into at a club in Miami. Some prick wanted to call me a pussy for tapping out in my fight against Liam. When I finished whooping his ass one of his friends hit me over the head with a beer bottle. Dalton grabbed him before I could, and slammed his head onto the top of the bar. That’s when the security team finally showed up and escorted those idiots out of the club. Being the middle weight MMA champion has its perks.
Brushing my teeth, I remember the ass chewing Roy gave me once the tabloids picked up the story. I got suspended from fighting for three months and had to pay a fifteen thousand dollar fine. I could lie and say I learned my lesson, but I haven’t. Tapping out in that fight was the worse decision of my life. I should have never thought that a woman would stick around and fight for me. Getting back into the game took a lot of time and dedication, but the anger kept me company through it all. Here I am three years later, still hanging onto that hate, but I’m now at the top of the game, doing only what I want to do. I have the belt and there is not a man in my division that can take it from me. Drinking and fucking random women is what I do to keep my self-occupied. My team doesn’t agree with it, they think I’ve become too careless and it’s going to jeopardize my career. There was a time I thought I could be happy without fighting, that turned out to be false hope. I worked hard to become number one, that’s where I intend on staying.
I make my way to the kitchen, to get me a bottle of water before getting ready to go to the gym. Coming down the stairs, I hear Dalton and K.J. talking, I knew I should have never given them a key to my house.
“What the fuck are you two doing here so early? “I ask, while making my way over to them.
My kitchen is the size of most people’s apartments. The floor is a black marble, and the cabinets are pristine white. The counter tops are the same color marble as the floor. Add in all the stainless steel appliances, and it is a kitchen fit for a man. I hired a professional decorator who did all rooms except my bedroom. That was the only room I did myself. It’s the one room in the house I spend most of my time, I wanted to keep it my own.
“Why are you not at the gym?” Dalton asks, “Roy sent us down here to get you.”
“I woke up late, I never heard my alarm.” I say reaching into the refrigerator, grabbing a bottled water.
“You reek of liquor, so I would say you went to bed drunk again, that’s why you didn’t hear the alarm.” K.J. states.
“Your right K.J., he smells like bad perfume and cheap booze. Maybe next time we shouldn’t cover for his ass when the big boss man shows up at the gym wanting to talk to his middle weight champion. By big boss man I mean Trent Masters. You know the president of the company you are currently employed by. The man that signs your checks.”
“I know who you’re talking about jackass. What the fuck does he want?”
“How are we supposed to know. We’re just a part of your team, you’re the one Trent wants to talk to. Get your shit together and let’s go.” Dalton yells out.
I’m already halfway up the stairs when he is finished shouting. I get dressed, put on some deodorant, and I’m done in less than five minutes. I grab my keys from the hook hanging in my garage and walk to my brand new hummer. I got her two months ago, fully loaded black on black, with a few modifications. I added the twenty inch black rims, and had the windows tinted to five percent, that is the darkest you can go.
The ride to the gym is about thirty minutes. I no longer live in the same area of Tampa as Dalton anymore. K.J and I moved further west. Dalton has been looking at some property out here, but he wants to get more clients first. He started an event planning business, throwing parties for all the rich spoiled people of Florida. This is the perfect state to start a business like that. He often throws parties in Naples for all the retired snow runners. They like to throw around money, trying to outspend one another.
K.J. moved to this area about a year ago. He lives in a town house apartment, not too far from here. He is always going on these random road trips, not telling me or Dalton much about them. I just shrug it off, when he wants to talk he will. No amount of nagging from us will change his mind. Even after he wrecked his bike before Christmas last year, claiming he lost control, he kept quiet about the incident. I call bullshit on his excuse because I happened to be the one to pick up the bike, while he was still in the hospital, recovering from a broken rib and concussion. There were bullet holes in the back tire, but I never questioned him. Like I said he will come to us when he’s ready.
Arriving at the gym, I walk through the doors, and head straight for Roy’s office. Knowing that
is where Trent will be.
“Don’t you knock?” Trent asks, when I walk in.
“This isn’t your fucking office.” I sneer at him before noticing Roy leaning against the wall.
I don’t like Trent for many reasons, but the main one would be the fact that he is a snake in the grass. This douche would sell his own mother if it would make him a dollar. I don’t play by his rules, that is why he doesn’t like me. Trenton thought I would want to get in on some of the action by betting against myself when I fought Nathan Saucedo for the belt. I was supposed to throw the rematch, keeping Nathan the champion. He lost a lot of money when I knocked Nathan out in the first round again.
“I guess you have heard about Lucky Wildman defeating Nathan Saucedo.” He questions.
“What about it.” Roy asks, coming forward.
“We have decided to make Lucky’s next middle weight fight the main event on our next pay-per-view. The one coming up in July.”
I just stand there, arms across my chest, staring down at him. He has brown hair, and stands 5’’7, on a good day. I hate how his hair is always greased back with product, trying to resemble Jax from Sons of Anarchy. It doesn’t help that his blue eyes are too big for his head, giving him the look of a lemur.
“Would you like to know who his opponent is?”
Not taking the bait, I stay quiet, waiting for him to tell me.
“It’s you, you’ll be defending your belt against him, in front of Las Vegas and the world.”
Two months is not enough time to prepare for a fight and he knows this judging by the stupid grin on his face. I really want to squeeze his neck, until those big eyes of his pop out of his head, and he can’t breathe anymore. Instead I take one step closer to him, and lean down into his personal space, “I wouldn’t bet on him winning, I’ll beat him just like everyone else you have thrown in front of me.”
I turn around and walk out of the office, not waiting for a response. Some people might think I’m am nuts for talking to my boss the way I do, but like I stated before, he loves money. I am the highest pay-per-view fighter, and have the highest gate revenue in the business. The only fighter that could make more than me is the man that finally beats me. Since there is no one out there that can, I’ll continue to talk to that weasel anyway I want.
I was still suffering from a hangover during training, so my day has been miserable. Dalton invited me to a party he is throwing at his house tonight, I decide to go. I could use a distraction and it would be nice to throw back a few drinks with Dalton.
Arriving at the house I notice there are more people here than I expected. Shrugging it off, I continue to head to the back yard. All the fame and fortune has not changed the fact that I do not like to be touched. This will never change. It is what it is. I find Dalton in the middle of a group of half-dressed women, fighting for his attention. Dalton has always been a flirt, but I know he will never cheat on Bethany, who is currently marching toward the group, giving Dalton the look.
“Excuse me ladies,” Dalton says, taking Bethany into his arms. “Don’t be mad baby, they can’t help wanting a piece of this beef cake. I’m irresistible.”
“Maybe to them, but I’m immune to your fabulousness.” Bethany says, turning around, and walking away.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have some groveling to do.” Dalton says.
Leaving me with five girls, all looking at me, expecting me to talk to them. I let my eyes roam over each one, deciding on the brunette with long legs, and brown eyes. I lean down to her ear and ask, “You wanna go for a walk.”
I have no intention of getting to know her, and the way she is looking at me, tells me she understands what I really want. Walking toward the cars I grab a bottle of whiskey from a table by the pool, drinking half the bottle down easily.
The whinny voice of the bitch, I currently have bent over the hood of Dalton’s car, is starting to make my dick go soft. She keeps begging me to fuck her harder, I could fist the slut and she would still beg for more. That’s the worst thing about fucking random girls I’ve met at one of Dalton’s parties, they are worn down, and worn out. I just drown out her voice, imagining it’s someone else I’m pounding into.
Just as I’m about to cum, I pull out, not wanting to chance it, even though I’m wearing a condom. She turns her head around, hair sticking to the side of her face and neck, lips pursed out. I don’t smile, nor do I try to talk to her. I zip my pants up, then start walking toward the back yard, where everyone is still partying.
Sitting beside Dalton on one of the lounge chairs and listening to him complain about Bethany’s jealousy, I hear someone clear their throat behind me. Turning around I see a very pissed of guy, looking down at me, wearing a scowl on his face. He starts yelling about me fucking his girlfriend. It’s then I notice the girl I just recently had bent over Dalton’s car is standing behind him.
This has been happening to me more often these days, so I just give him the finger and turn back to my previous conversation. This idiot must be drinking that liquid courage because he makes the mistake of smacking me on the back of the head. Dalton flies out of his chair, while I leisurely stand, turning to face this asshole. The shock on his face when I stand to my full height, towering over him is priceless. I give him a little smirk, right before I land the first punch, right to the center of his face. The sound his nose makes when I break it, makes me laugh out loud. I’m on him before anyone can try to stop me, before this douche even knows what’s going on.
There is blood getting splattered all over my clothes, arms, and face. I’m enjoying all the noises he is making as each one of my punches land on his already broken face. One last hit and the asshole is knocked out, laying on the ground like a pathetic loser.
“She was a horrible lay, maybe try to teach her how to suck dick,” I say, spitting on him, as he lays unconscious on the ground. The crowd has made a circle around us, some have their phones out, probably recording this to share with all their followers on Facebook. I hear a gasp coming from someone in the crowd behind me.
“Jasper? Is that you?”
I remember that voice, it haunts me, playing in my head, like a never ending horror film. Taking a deep breath, I turn around, having no choice but to confront another enemy.
She is just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. Her hair is longer now, laying across her back. It looks like her wardrobe has expanded from baggy hoodies and skinny jeans, to short shorts and Linkin Park shirts. Looking at her long legs in those shorts, remembering what is was like having them wrapped around me, all my blood goes straight to my dick. I guess my hatred for her hasn’t dulled to the effect she has on my body.
Making my way back up her body, I look in the same blue eyes I once believed held my salvation, but now realize they held nothing but lies and false promises. It’s been three years since she walked out of that auditorium with her aunt, without so much as a goodbye. I had no way of knowing where she was going, and no one who would tell me.
“Jasper.”
She keeps whispering my name, pleading with me to say something back. There is nothing to say, so I do exactly what she did to me three years ago. I walk away, letting her know I don’t give a shit about her anymore.
Walking by the idiot’s girlfriend, I point my finger at her, letting it be known she should follow me. I have a full blown hard on now, and decide to do her boyfriend a favor, and teach her how to give good head.
Chapter 2
Candice
Walking into the bar I spot K.J. almost immediately. He’s sitting on a worn out wooden stool, with a disgusted look on his face. Making eye contact with him in the mirror, I give myself one last pep talk and make my way over.
Sitting down on the stool closest to his, he gives me no pleasant smile, or any indication this is going to be a happy reunion.
“I warned you not to hurt him. Do you remember that Candice?”
With the lump of fear currently residing in my throat, I have no choice but t
o nod instead of speaking.
“Good. That was your one.” He turns his head in my direction, our eyes locking onto one another, “Your one free pass from the consequences of you not taking my warning serious. Nod your head if you understand.”
My head instantly obeys. I can see the sincerity in his black irises. There is no doubt in my mind he can smell the fear pouring off of me in waves, and I’m almost certain he is enjoying it.
“Three years ago you left town without so much as an explanation. No one knew how to find you. Your Aunt never gave the tiniest hint and Jasper could never convince her to. Unlucky for you, I knew the next day where you ran off to. I have kept my mouth shut for one reason, and one reason only, Jasper. He deserves someone that is willing to fight for him, and you were obviously not that person.”
He stops talking long enough to take a drink of his beer. Leaving Jasper was not easy for me, it was not something I wanted to do. At the time I felt I had no other option since Christopher was out and knew where I was. Looking back, I sometimes wish I had stayed. I would have, if I thought he would’ve only come after me. I had to think about everyone I cared about, Jasper included. Christopher would have used them to get to me, and that was something I couldn’t live with.
“He almost killed Liam that night, he had the same look in his eye I’ve seen several times. Had I not stopped him, he would be serving a life time sentence in the federal penitentiary right now.”
His statement provokes me to ask my first questions, “How did you stop him and why?”
“I stopped him because he is my brother, I wasn’t going to let him throw his life away for some piece of ass. He had something to prove to himself once you left. He wanted to become the best middle weight MMA fighter to ever step foot in the octagon. It took him several years, he has proven it, and holds the belt. All that anger he suppressed is finally coming to surface. There is only one person who can fix it, that’s you. So get your shit packed, you’re coming back to Tampa.”
Torn Apart (Fatally Flawed #2) Page 1