BEAST (MMA Bad Boys Book 1)

by L. Grubb

  “What’s wrong with you? You didn’t even have to talk to him.” My eyes are firmly on the coffees in her hand, wishing them to come to me without having to snatch them out of her hands.

  “I had to see him. That was enough.” Blowing out a breath of frustrated air, she finally hands me a coffee and places the bag on behind the counter. “All I want from him is a fucking apology for what he said to me that night.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that he might not even remember what happened, Gem?” I say this softly, but the thunderous look she gives me shows she doesn’t appreciate me stepping to his defence. I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I know he doesn’t because I just told him and he had no fucking clue. He looked upset and was murderous when he left.”

  “He doesn’t remember? Please. I know he remembers sleeping with me, the way he’s had the guts to look at me like he wants to fuck me again says it all.” Her hands have balled into fists at her side and her face is turning red.

  “Calm the fuck down, Gem. He may remember shagging you but he doesn’t remember what he said. Cut him some slack and get off your damn high horse, woman.” I throw my free hand in the air and go back to my station, drinking my hot coffee as I go.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love the girl to pieces, but she has a tendency to over think shit and then over analyse that shit at the same time, leading her to exactly where she is right now. Stuck in the past, in her head with the same bullshit that’s been eating at her for months. She should have just spoke to him and got it over with. She’s a stubborn bitch but most of the time I wouldn’t have her any other way.

  “I’m sorry, Car. I’ve been real pig-headed and a stubborn douche bag. But, his words hurt me. I just want an apology and I may just leave it at that and never let his dick near my hole again.” I shake my head because I know for a fact that if they sorted this out, she would jump back into bed with him quicker than she can say suck-a-dick.

  “Let’s just drop it for today, yeah?” She nods her agreement and goes back to the front of the store. Moments later, I hear the rustling of the bag and my stomach growls in response. Skipping breakfast probably wasn’t the best idea ever.

  The tantalising smell of bacon butties fills the air and my stomach takes my legs to where it’s coming from. Good god they smell good.

  “Wondered how long it would take for your stomach to come searching.” She eyes me over the edge of the food, and I can see the laughter in them.

  “You know me better than I do sometimes. How did you know I wasn’t on some diet or my stomach wanted to be stubborn?” I reached into the bag for the other wrapped bun and make quick work of removing the packaging. I moan when I take the first bite, the taste makes my mouth water more than the smell. “Let me guess…” I say, round a mouthful of food. “Lorena’s Café?” She nods in affirmation and I think I love this girl just a little bit more.

  “Where else would I go? She makes the best food and the best damn coffee I’ve ever had in my life,” Gemma mumbles as she licks her fingers. “So, who’s next in today? No more surprises?”

  “Clara will be here in about fifteen minutes or so, then Franco and Benji are coming in at the end of the day. I have a fight this evening too by the way. You gonna come cheerlead for me?” I give her a bright smile and bat my eyelashes. It’s not really warranted when she knows my anxiety eases when she’s in my corner at a fight.

  “I wouldn’t miss it, babe. I better get these sketches done for Franco and Benji, I have the description to work on thankfully.” She tosses the rubbish in the bin in the corner and rolls the chair to her work station on the other side of the room. I won’t hear a word out of her now until she’s done.

  Franco and Benji are my cousins. We’re bred from half Italian, quarter American and quarter British. Our fathers are brothers, who were born and raised in the countryside of Italy back in the 1950’s. They fled here during a time when the government were battling for power and life there became unbearable. My mother is English but my grandparents are full-bred American who live on the golden coast of California. The Italian side is riddled with messed up power, unorganised shit that destroys families. Mother is one of those woman that obeys their men and I can’t stand the pair of them. Whereas Franco and Benji stay in contact with the family, I chose to move away from my home in Cheshire, to escape my father’s thumb and the whimpers of my pathetic mother. According to my cousins, my parents ask about me constantly, my father more so, but I have no respect for him, for what he does or what he stands for. To me, my parents are dead. Harsh? Maybe, but I don’t believe in beating a woman into silence, and that’s what my father does.

  Blinking my eyes to clear the memories, I go about the rest of the work day. Tattooing. It’s my passion and another thing no-one can take away from me.

  I’ve been training for the last two hours and my muscles are starting to scream at me with pain. My arms feel ready to fall off but I’ve learnt not to quit. Never quit. Quitters are for losers who can’t follow through. They’re the kind of people the MMA circuit would kick to the curb.

  “Beast! Stop, mate, for fuck sake!” Carlos shouts from just past the perimeter of the punching bags. “You have a fight tonight and those arms cannot be fatigued to the point of losing, you understand?”

  My arms hang loosely to my sides and I stand there taking quick breaths as sweat pours over every inch of my skin. Once I feel I have control of my breathing, I turn and face the one man that has the power to shut my ass down. Carlos is the big man, a man not unlike my father. Their long noses and shaped jaws are so similar they could have passed as twins but really, Carlos was three years younger but a shit load smarter. Yeah, this badass mafia boss is my uncle. But to me he’s just another power hungry twat and someone who’s ego is much bigger than mine.

  “I’m aware I have a fight, Uncle. But that’s still four hours away. I can train longer than this and still come out a winner. Why are you suddenly doubting my worth?” My eyes narrow as I study his features which don’t change, he’s the master at not showing his emotions and hiding his thoughts. That where I learnt how to do it. I idolised this man when I was just a boy but as I got older, he got harsher. The love I felt toward him died the moment he laughed as my father beat me ‘til I couldn’t stand anymore. But I’m under his thumb, his rule.

  “I’m not doubting you, son. I just can’t afford for you to lose against Bart Steele tonight.” His smirk says otherwise.

  “You can afford everything in the world, Uncle, so drop the bullshit.” I stare hard at him, and curl my lip back in a snarl. “You can try and push me out but I’m not going anywhere. Your money would dwindle into pennies before you could even blink an eyelid. I don’t give a fuck about what you want because you’re nothing but a Mafia big nose who runs the MMA.”

  I stride past him, bumping my shoulder into his as I go. I fucking hate the man and he knows I do. He always riles me up for his own self-gain. He’s a pathetic twat and if he didn’t have MMA he wouldn’t have anything. Including his twenty-three-year-old wife. You think I’m a prick for the way I treat bitches? You ain’t seen him in action. He’s a fuck lot worse and whole lot more brutal. I never smack a woman around just for fun, I don’t smack them around full stop. He does it because if they don’t give him respect, he’ll beat the respect out of them.

  After I’ve showered and changed, I head over to the restaurant my mother owns. She’s a different person to the one she was when my father was around. Happiness seeps through her pores now and you notice it in every step she takes and every smile she gives. Her attitude before his death was horrible, she was the shell of the person she could have been and I resented her for most of my life because she fed me to the devil. But we’ve finally built a mother/son relationship that I always dreamed about. She’s the only person I’m soft with because she doesn’t deserve any more drama and not more shit from the men in her life. That’s probably why she married a school teacher; dull, boring and drama free.


  The customers are starting to dwindle as the lunch hour ends and waitresses are clearing tables while waiters are resetting them. The dark red walls and black carpet are the colours of a dungeon but the chandeliers shroud the place in a false sense of royalty. The dimmed lights and the little tea-light candles on the tables make for a relaxed setting. The kitchen is open plan so patrons can see how their food is made and the bar is just to the side of the kitchen and right in front of the main doors. It’s a small bar but stocked with every kind of hard liquor available. Beer is served in bottles and is only Italian as to honour her heritage. This place is the only place that I let my walls down, where I can relax just a little.

  “Beast!” My mother squeals from the doorway to the corridor leading to offices and toilets. “God damn, ma boy, I’ve missed you!” She walks toward me and I envelope her in a bear hug. I take in her floral scent and the feeling of home washes over me.

  “I missed you to, Ma. How’s things?” I ask as I hold her a little away from me to take a look at her. She looks younger than her fourty-two years and laugh lines are finally visible after years of being miserable.

  “Good, good. Let me get you a drink. Whiskey?” She goes behind the bar and starts fixing drinks before I’ve even had a chance to reply. “I haven’t seen you for a week, Beast. That’s so unlike you these days.”

  “I’ve had to train every day, fighting every night. I’ve been to wiped out and moody. I didn’t want to bring that to you.” I grab the glass that she slides to me and take a welcome sip. I close my eyes and relish in the burn as it trails down my throat and lands in a fiery pool in my stomach.

  “You can always come to me, Beast. You know that, don’t you?” I can hear the uncertainty in her throat and I understand her trepidation. I chose not to get to close yet she wants me as close as possible. She’s swimming in guilt at not standing up to the man that ran my life, she’s guilty for my tainted soul. Choosing to stay away isn’t what I want but what I feel necessary so my Ma can live, experience life without all my bullshit on her shoulders. Not wanting to be my father, I visit a few times a week for half hour a time. It’s controlled and I never talk about MMA. Ever. Her old life haunts her and she shows it on her face and her eyes. She’s like an open book and that’s why my father found it so easy to put her in place. He swam in the glory of having a wife that did as she was told but also so fucking scared of him that she couldn’t hide it. He was a sick, sick man but she’s free now.

  “I know, Ma, but I refuse to bring my bullshit life to you. You need to live, experience life without the MMA shit hanging over you. I’ll never be free but you are. It’s not because I don’t love you, it’s because I do that I choose to stand back just a little. I’m not my father, Ma.” I take her dainty hand between my own and tilt my head to look into her eyes. “I promise you, I’m not standing back to hurt you, Ma. I love ya.”

  I sound like a sappy twat, but my Ma is my soft spot, my weakness, and I do love her. A graceful smile spreads across her face, making her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting. After looking at me with her happy face, I smile…Yeah, I do fucking smile sometimes. The sound of the door opening behind me has my Ma looking over my shoulder. Curious as to who’s walked in, I turn to check them out. Stood right there is Carlotta, beautiful even in some skinny jeans and black tank top. I frown. Since when did I find women beautiful?

  “What’s that look on your face?” My Ma brings me back to earth and I look at her. Her confusion is written in her eyes and I swallow.

  “She’s an MMA light-weight fighter. I met her last night.” I close my eyes as her laughter reaches my ears. It’s a glorious sound. In my world, no-one laughs like that. Ever.

  She’s just another bitch, she’s just another bitch, I chant in my head. I don’t have time to get tangled up in a woman, especially a fellow fighter. Don’t get me started on her attitude. I have no room for a new challenge, it’s doesn’t matter how fucking hot her body is.

  “Then why the long face? She’s your friend, no?” Ma’s Italian accent hasn’t disappeared and seems to be as strong as ever, I don’t find it comforting anymore. My father ruined the accent for anyone else.

  “No, Ma. She’s just someone I bumped into. She has a bad attitude.” I scrub a hand down my face and hope to God that Carlotta doesn’t notice me sitting here. I would say I’m trying to make myself get smaller, but that’s impossible with me. I’m not named Beast for nothing.

  “So, no romance?” Ma’s inquisition is unwarranted but she’s been hoping for me to find a woman to settle down with, even though she knows it’s impossible for me to. I can’t bring her into the mess my father got me into. With Carlos shadowing me, I can’t risk anyone else’s life. I may be a bastard but I don’t wish harm on people that don’t deserve it, excluding fights because I have no choice.

  “Ma,” I say in a warning tone. “Don’t. Go. There.” My teeth a gritted so hard that I’m afraid they’ll break, but anger is creeping in and I don’t want to get mad at her. Taking a deep breath through my nose and blowing it out slowly, I look at Ma, my eyes pleading with her to drop that conversation.

  “Beast. Pleasure to see you again.” Carlotta. She’s just over my shoulder and I have to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out to her. I can feel my control and resolve slipping as her flowery scent invades my nostrils.

  “Carlotta.” I growl from deep in my chest and my Ma and Carlotta’s eyes widen in surprise.

  Carlotta’s chin lifts a little and she turns her attention to Ma. “Two glasses of house white wine please, Gina.”

  “Sure thing, sweety. I’ll have them brought over for you.” She shoos Carlotta away with a wave of the hand and goes about making the drinks as I sit there and stare at the back of Carlotta as she walks away, I’m not going to lie, her arse looks fucking sexy in those jeans. I catch myself before I start licking my lips. Knock it off, Beast, she’s already in the circuit and you don’t want to pull her in any fucking further, this thought slaps me in the face and I close my eyes, looking away from the only woman that has ever captured my attention. Sure, I have women that tickle my fancy, but they’re one night only and that’s just to satisfy my dick. No one will ever steal my heart. No one will ever knock down the walls I built to protect myself. No woman deserves the shit they’ll get from the bosses above if they were caught in a relationship with me. This is one thing my Ma never understands about the whole thing; it’s why she’s forever pushing me to settle down. I can’t. Ever. The sooner she understands that I won’t do it, the quicker she can move the fuck on from the same shit she pushes on me every fucking time I come to see her.

  “Ma, I’m leaving. Call if you need anything.” I salute her as I slip off my stool. I can feel eyes drilling holes into my head, I know they’re Carlotta’s by the tingling goosebumps that run down both of my arms. I grit my teeth and shove the glass doors of the restaurant open and walk fast toward my Conquest Knight XV beast of a car.

  I chose this car because I felt it protected me from everything and everyone on the outside. I know it does what I hope it would because I always feel safe when I’m locked inside. It’s the only one in England and I have men drooling over it. Yeah, my car is as much of a fucking badass as I am.

  Pressing the ignition button, I rev the engine and smile as the engine growls to life. Checking my mirrors, I check for a clearance in the afternoon traffic before easing out and heading in the direction of my apartment. My life is so damn exciting; wake up, gym, restaurant, home. Routine. Basic. And how I was trained. Being brainwashed from a young age sucks when you want to have a life but can’t physically have one. I stick to ring girls because they’re less clingy and only after stardom, I don’t go out of my way to look for women and I sure as fuck don’t go after women like Carlotta.

  Not remembering the drive back home, I sit in my underground parking space and blink away the mist of thoughts that has drifted in front of my eyes and in my brain. I’ve never contemplated life, I just
got on with it. I ride the waves of the present day and don’t think about the future, nothing will change. I’ll always be under my father’s rule even if his sorry arse isn’t here. But I guess, instead of my dad, I’m under Carlos’ rule now. His word is gospel and he has the last word in everything. If I valued my life even a smidgeon, I know not to go against him. Ever.

  Carlotta is still a thought that’s floating through my mind and it’s driving me INSANE. I’ve hardly even spoke to the woman except for once and even then it was me on the receding end of her sarcasm and bitchiness. I have no right to have sexual feelings towards her, but I do. My body has a mind of its own and it seems my dick is the only head that rules me. One day, my downfall will be a woman, I know it and I know from Carlos’ snide remarks that he does too. I’ll prove that fucker wrong. You wait and see.

  If it wasn’t for the kicks and money, I would have figured a way to get out of MMA, at least out of the Mob’s MMA. But I have no resources on my side, I have no way to kick it in. Fighting for me now is an addiction I have to feed, an addiction I can’t surpass and at the moment I have no real interest in quitting.

  The label over my head is what keeps me in the game, what keeps me fighting and keeping the big men happy. My fights bring in the most money, they know and I know it, that’s why I haven’t been thrown out for the wolves to eat. They truly hated my father as much as I did, they can’t wait for the day that I crash and burn, but I won’t let it happen.

  Heaving myself from my vehicle, I beep it shut and head to the private lift in the corner of the underground parking lot. Sliding my key card that shows I’m authorised to use it, I wait for the doors to slide open. The gym session has finally hit my muscles and the need for a scorching hot shower overwhelmed me. My body was feeling sluggish and the steps into the elevator felt like it took more than a mere couple of seconds.