Broken Shadows (The Broken Series Second Generation Book 2)

by Heather D'Agostino

  She pouted as I grinned. “What’s wrong?” I teased.

  “You left me hanging.” She stuck her lip out farther.

  “I’m going to fix that right now.” I grabbed her right behind the knees and pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her skirt rose up in the process, exposing her lace panties. “Hope you don’t like these too much.” I grabbed the thin lace in my fist and gave a healthy yank. They tore easily, and I tossed them to the floor. I positioned myself at her entrance, and in one thrust, slipped inside her wet pussy. “Fuck, you feel good.” I groaned as I sank into her as deep as possible.

  “Move.” She moaned as she attempted to rock her hips.

  “Oh, I’m gonna move.” I began slamming my hips against her over and over. My orgasm was sitting just below the surface. Alcohol was keeping it at bay, but I was determined to make us both come. I lifted her into my arms and turned to use the wall. Her back slammed against the sheetrock as a moan tore from her lips. “That good, huh?” I gasped as I pulled her down on me. I could feel it now, rushing to the surface. I moved again, this time seating myself on the closed toilet. She straddled my lap, and I lifted her over and over, pulling her hard against me. Her head fell back as I came, pulsing inside her. We sat there for a moment before she stood to get off me.

  “I needed that.” She grinned. “Thanks.” She walked over to the door, pointing at the torn panties on the floor as she looked over her shoulder. “You can keep those if you want.” Then she slipped out of the bathroom.

  I sat there with my jeans around my ankles, dick still hard, and condom dangling as what just happened sank in. She used me to get laid. I should be upset, I think, but I wasn’t. It felt great to get what I wanted with no expectations. I didn’t have to call her, or worry that I was hurting her feelings. We both got off, and now we’d move on. I chuckled as a knock sounded at the door. “Occupied!” I yelled as I stood and removed the condom. I tossed it before righting my boxers and jeans. As I made my way back to the sink, I bent down to pick up the lace panties. I stuffed them in my pocket. I don’t know why I kept them, but part of me thought I might want to relive this in the coming days. I wasn’t aware at the moment just how easy it would be to do this again. I glanced at myself in the mirror and swayed a little in my drunken state. All thoughts of training in the morning were gone, but so was the hurt that Liv had put there. I found a way to be numb, and I liked it.

  Chapter 2

  Easton

  I was awakened by pounding on my door. My head felt like it was going to explode, and when I sat up my stomach rolled. Bile rose in my throat, and blips of last night floated through my memory. The pounding sounded again, reminding me of why I was awake. “Just a minute!” I barked out before glancing at my alarm clock. Five thirty-eight shone back at me. Fuck, I was supposed to be at the gym right now. I grumbled as I stumbled to my feet and shuffled to the door. I knew who was on the other side without even looking. I slowly opened the door, praying that I wouldn’t barf. “Hey, Dad.” I sighed.

  “You’re late.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I blinked up at him, the porch light shining behind him.

  “You know? What’s that supposed to mean? You have a fight in a few days.” He shifted his weight and leaned closer. “E, you smell like stale beer. What the fuck?”

  “I’m sorry.” It didn’t matter that I was an adult; around him I was still a kid. I could never get past that. No matter how good or how old I was, he still saw me as the screw up kid who wasn’t serious enough.

  “Sorry?” He scoffed as he pushed his way into my apartment. “Go get dressed. We have to dry you out.” He shook his head in disappointment.

  I ran my fingers through my hair as I headed back to my room. I searched in the dark for some workout clothes, sniffing them along the way to find something that didn’t smell too bad.

  “Wear running shoes!” he called, not caring that he might wake up Chase.

  “Great,” I grumbled to myself. I slipped on my sneakers, as I grabbed my gym bag with my gear. When I came back out, Dad was in the kitchen filling a water bottle. “I’m ready.” My head throbbed with the simple words.

  “We’ll see about that.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Let’s go.”

  ooooooooo

  “Where are we going?” I watched out the window as we passed the gym. Dad hadn’t mentioned anything else for today, and I was still slightly drunk from my night of debauchery.

  “I think you need some cardio today, so we’re going to do that first.” He glanced at me before looking back at the road.

  “Fine.” I sighed as I rubbed my temples.

  We pulled into a public access for the beach, and Dad cut the engine. “Out!” He pointed to the sand as he rounded the truck and dropped the tailgate. I heard him rummaging in the back, and then he reappeared with his own running shoes. “Let’s go.”

  I slowly opened my door, hoping to delay the punishment that was getting ready to ensue, but he just tapped his foot, waiting. I’ve been doing this since I was kid. I screw up. He pushes me till I almost break, and then I get back on track again.

  “I’m sorry. Do we really have to do this?” I started stretching, knowing this was gonna hurt.

  “Yeah, we do. You wanna be a champion? You gotta act like one. This frat boy animal house thing you got going on ain’t gonna cut it.” He motioned for me to follow as he walked out onto the beach. “We’re going to pier and back. You keep up, or we’ll do it again.”

  “But that’s five miles,” I whined like a little kid.

  “Yep. I’m going easy on you, and I don’t have the golfcart today.” His head tipped to the side as his lips pursed. When I first started training, Dad would follow behind me on a golfcart, barking orders. We ran in all sorts of crappy weather. Today, it appeared he was actually going to run himself. “Let’s go.” He motioned as he started in a slow jog.

  The harder I pushed, the worse I felt. My head throbbed and at one point I thought for sure that I was going to barf. I probably would have if I’d eaten something. We reached the pier and Dad grinned as we rounded a piling and headed back. When we got to the truck, I bent over and placed my hands on my knees. My lungs were fighting for air as I wheezed and gasped. “You gotta let up on the drinking, E. Not only is it bad for your body, it’s bad for your mind. You’re going to do something stupid one day and quite possibly screw up your whole career.” He slugged back a bottle of water and then tossed me one.

  “It was one night.” I sighed. “One night. I need to be a college kid every once in a while.” I sipped the water, praying that I didn’t lose it. The last thing I needed was for my father the trainer to see me hurl.

  “One time is all it takes to ruin your career. People know who you are. They expect certain things from you. You can’t give them a reason to pick you apart. You’re Easton McKay.” He leaned against the truck as he finished his water. “Get in.” He pointed to my door.

  “More? Really?” I threw my head back and stared at the sky. The sun was starting to rise over the water, and all I wanted to do was go back to bed.

  “Have you heard anything I said?” Dad slammed his door as he got in the truck.

  “God forbid the son of the great Weston McKay do anything to tarnish the name,” I shouted at no one in particular as I ripped open my door and climbed in.

  “I suggest you think about what you did as we make this drive. No trainer would put up with what you’re doing, and when we’re training, I’m not your dad, I’m your trainer.” He shot an angry glare in my direction.

  ooooooooo

  I’ve seen my dad mad over the years, but I’ve never seen him like he is today. We pulled into the gym and with little to no words, he instructed me to suit up. I grabbed my equipment bag and made my way inside. Dad pointed at the training ring before he tossed his bag on the floor. A few of the guys I’ve sparred with in the past were working out on the equipment. Jake, one my more powe
rful opponents, started to make his way over, but Dad waved him off. “Gear up.” He motioned before pulling out a set of gloves. He popped his mouth guard in, and climbed in the ring. After having one of the assistants tighten his gloves, he smacked them together and grinned at me. It was then that I noticed the mouthguard he was using. It was the one he used on the circuit when he was fighting full-time.

  “Let’s go, pretty boy.” He laughed around the red and yellow rubber.

  My shoulders dropped because I knew this could go one of two ways. He was either going to let me get in a few swings before showing me what I was doing wrong, or he was going to hand me my ass. I knew it was the latter, but I prayed it was the former.

  I finished gearing up before climbing through the ropes. “Go ahead. Hit me,” I mumbled around the guard. Dad bounced on his feet and put his hands up in the fighting position. He shook his head before advancing on me and tapping his glove to mine. He winked, and then backed up.

  I’d seen all of this before. He was treating me like one of his opponents. “You think you can drink all night and win?” It came out garbled. “So, win.” He lifted his arms in a ‘come and get me’ stance before bouncing around.

  Fuck. I was royally screwed. He was pissed, and he knew that I knew it. I stepped forward and took a swing. He ducked before delivering a one two punch to my jaw. My head snapped back as pain from the night before rushed in. I shook it off and advanced again, this time going for his side. He rocked out of the way, took a swing, and connected with my gut. I stumbled back, and wrapped my hands around my middle.

  “Don’t be a pussy!” he growled as he bounced from foot to foot. “Hit me! What are you waiting for?” He flung his arms up. Sweat rolled down his face, and he swiped at it before moving in my direction.

  I was tired from our run, and he knew it. I rushed him in the center, grabbed his arms, and swung my leg under him in hopes of taking him to the mat. He held his ground and laughed. Anger surged, and in a moment of distraction, I delivered a well-placed punch to the jaw. The upper cut took him off guard and he stumbled back.

  “Nice.” He smirked. “I’ll let you have that.”

  The thing about training with the best is they know your moves. They taught them to you, so they know what’s coming. The only time I’ve ever gotten a good hit on him is when he’s been distracted. My dad doesn’t lose, and he doesn’t want me to either. The few fights I’ve had, I’ve won. The thing is, they’ve been in small arenas. Next week’s fight is one that could really put me on the map and as much as I know last night was stupid, my ego can’t admit it.

  “Do it again,” he commanded as he moved back to center ring. This time when I swung, he swiped his leg under me and took me down. I landed hard on my ass, and before I could react, he was tangled on top of me.

  Dad always had a better floor game, and the fact that he had me in a submission this quick was proof of why. He held me there as he turned his head and spit his guard out. “Drinking and fighting don’t mix. I’m not going to do this if you won’t respect my rules. Got it?” He tightened his hold, daring me to tap out.

  I spit out my guard as I glared at him. “I don’t need a babysitter, Dad. I need a coach who believes in me.” I kicked my feet, rolled, and slipped out of his grip, kicking him in the process. We both stood, and I watched as he wiped his lip. I’d made contact, and he wasn’t wearing the guard.

  He shook his head as he walked away. “Let me know when you’re ready to grow up,” he called out without looking back.

  I stood there in the middle of the ring, just watching. I don’t know why I said that to him. I know he believes in me. He’s believed in me since I was a little kid, but sometimes I think he says stuff just to piss me off.

  I waited, thinking he might come back. Maybe this was a test; I didn’t know. Dad was always doing weird stuff that I didn’t understand. I slipped through the ropes and sat by my bag. After about a half hour, one of the other fighters came over. “He’s gone. Left about ten minutes ago. Guess you’re calling an Uber.” The guy laughed as he left me there and went to the heavy bag. What the hell? Dad had done some crazy shit in the past but he’s never left me at the gym. I rifled through my bag for my phone. I could call Chase; he should be up by now. As soon as I brought the phone to life, there was an unread text from Mom.

  Mom: It’s only six blocks. Walk it off and apologize. We love you.

  I tossed the phone in my bag, and forced myself to my feet. I stormed out of the gym, and into the bright sunlight. This fucking sucked, and I don’t care if it was next door. I should not have to walk home.

  I probably should have gone straight home and taken a shower, that would have been the smart thing to do, but I’ve never been one to do the smart thing. Instead of turning right and walking the six blocks to my apartment, I turned left and walked one to The Eclipse Bar. Why was I doing this? Because it would piss off my dad and right now that’s all that I wanted to do.

  Chapter 3

  Easton

  Things have been tense at the gym. Dad and I never really made up. We never really have. Usually, we spar and work it out, then I give in and do what he wants. It’s been right below the surface lately though, the frustration. I feel like he’s trying to control me, more than coach me. He’s right, I do want to be the best, but it never feels like I’m getting the tools to do that. I’ve been approached by other trainers who have offered to help, but leaving my dad has never really felt like an option.

  “You ready?” Dad’s head popped around the corner. I was trying to get in the zone. My big fight was tonight, and I’ve never felt more nervous. In the past, I’ve always been relaxed, but tonight feels different. It might be the fact that this fight will put me on the map, or maybe that the arena is filled with people who could change my life. Several sponsors are sitting in the stands, as well as two different promoters. If I win tonight, I can move up from these amateur fights and get in with the big boys.

  I nodded as my eyes stared at the floor. “I have to be ready. I don’t have a choice,” I mumbled as I slipped my earbuds in. Dad has always told me to tune out the world around me. If I can’t hear it, then it can’t affect me. It’s worked until tonight.

  “Your mom’s here. She wanted you to have this.” He handed me a small Celtic cross. “She says it will bring you luck.” He smiled, something he hasn’t done much of lately, and reached for the tape.

  I turned up the music on my iPod before holding out my hands. As the noise filled my ears, Dad went to work taping my hands. I closed my eyes as I attempted to let the nerves go. Before I knew it, he was patting my shoulder. He pulled the earbuds from my ears, and I stood. “Let’s win this.” He nodded as he moved to drape my robe over my shoulders. The red and white silk was another reminder of who I was. I’d been wearing Dad’s robe since he retired and at times it felt more like chains that were tying me down than something that was boosting me up. His shadow seemed to get bigger with every fight, tonight’s no different.

  ooooooooo

  The arena roared as I stepped into the spotlight. I jogged down to the cage with Dad hot on my heels. He always tried to stay back and not attract attention, but everyone knew who he was and it was always assumed that he’d be with me.

  “And in the red corner... weighing in at 165 pounds…Easton ‘Easy E’ McKay,” the announcer’s voice boomed. My dad hated that nickname, but I loved it. I’d adopted it after one of my opponents had told me I’d be an easy win. It reminded me that I wasn’t. It also wasn’t Dad’s name, so I liked it even better.

  I shook the robe off my shoulders as I entered the cage. I grinned at the mound of muscle who stood across from me. I heard rumors and Dad had done some research on the guy. He was weak on his left, and I was going to exploit that. Women squealed, a few even proposing as I bounced on my toes. The ref waved me to the center; I tapped knuckles with the guy, and then backed up. We circled each other a few times before he took a swing. I ducked and grinned, and that seemed
to piss him off more. I waved my hand, signaling for him to come and get me. One thing I got from my dad was my ability to anger my opponent. I smirked, and he snarled.

  “Come on, E. Just like we practiced!” Dad yelled from his spot outside the cage. I lifted my chin before weaving and then throwing a right cross that connected with his jaw. His head snapped back, but he shook it off. “Stay with it!” Dad barked, and I advanced again. One two, and a left hook rocked him sideways.

  He backed up before dropping his shoulder and bull rushing me. I dodged and spun, giving him a round kick right to the chest. He flew back, landing on the mat, and I took full advantage. I covered him, hooking him behind the knee and flipping him on his shoulders. He struggled to free himself, but I tightened my grip. “Don’t let him up, E!” Dad yelled again.

  It felt like minutes, but it was probably only seconds. He smacked his palm against the mat, tapping and ending the round. I released him, and bounced on my feet to a standing position. When I looked back at Dad, he looked the same as always, stoic. I never could tell with him. He didn’t celebrate like others I’d seen over the years. It was the same when he fought. He’d always tell me that you celebrate when it’s over, and it’s not over until you win.

  ooooooooo

  It took four rounds that night, but I won. It was the fight that put me on the map; Dad made sure to tell me that when we entered the locker rooms. “You did it!” He clapped me on the back in excitement. It was the happiest I’d seem him. “You’ve got sponsors wanting to talk to you, and this was just the fight you needed to move up.”