Strong Hold

by Sarah Castille

  I snort a laugh. “Are you serious? Torment doesn’t know anything about fighting? He is probably the greatest fighter in the country. He is still the official holder of the underground title belt. Underground, Zack.” I emphasize the word. “No rules. No laws. No protection. No mercy. The only time he was ever knocked down was when Misery hit him over the head with a pair of brass knuckles and tried to kill him, and that didn’t count as a defeat.”

  “It’s not the same.” He bristles, and I realize his ego is bruised. He may not fight anymore, but he is still a fighter, still a four-time world middleweight champ.

  My hands find my hips, but my feet remain on the safe side of the door. “Did you know that fighters come to Redemption from all over the country hoping for a chance to fight Torment? It became so ridiculous that he put rules in place. Only a fighter who has won fights against Redemption’s top fighters is allowed to challenge Torment. But no one has made it that far in years.”

  “At my peak, I could have defeated Torment,” Zack huffs. “I could still beat him. It’s all smokescreen and mirrors. He’s hiding behind his fighters. Maybe he was good once, but now he’s afraid if he steps in the ring, everyone will discover he’s just an ordinary man.”

  Incredulous, I cross the threshold and close the distance between us. “You think he’s afraid?”

  “I think you’re afraid.” He strokes a rough finger along my jaw. “But you don’t have to be. Let me take you down that hill one more time.”

  Emotion bubbles in my chest. I wasn’t afraid of Devil’s Hill. Even after I fell off Matt’s bike. I welcomed Zack’s help for the skills he could teach me, but I never felt fear like I do now. The thought of starting all over again, and with Zack, sends a chill down my spine.

  “You have a job,” I protest.

  “I haven’t taken a vacation in four years. I have more time owed to me than I know what to do with.” His hand slides beneath my ponytail, and he strokes his thumb over my nape. “Anything else?”

  I scramble for all the reasons this is not a good idea. “I can’t pay you. I’m already financially stretched, and that’s with Stan and Fuzzy discounting their fees and Torment coaching me for free.”

  Zack gives a disgusted snort. “I would never take money from you. It’s covered.”

  Without any other reason for turning him down, I take the easy way out. “It wouldn’t work. We have too many unresolved issues between us. A past. I haven’t forgiven you, Zack. Seeing you every day…training with you…it would be too hard.”

  He leans in close, rests his forehead against mine. “Since when did you, Shayla Tanner, ever turn away from something because it was too hard?”

  Since you left. Since I didn’t have you to lean on or to catch me when I fell.

  “I’m not the same person anymore.”

  “Then be that person, because the girl I left behind didn’t let anything stand in her way. Not even me.”

  I pull away, torn between what he’s offering and the emotional price I will have to pay. “I can’t train with you. It’s too much. Too confusing. I don’t know how I feel about you anymore. I don’t want to start something that isn’t going anywhere. I don’t want to lead you on.”

  He doesn’t even flinch at what, to me, seem harsh words. “Then we’ll keep it strictly professional.”

  “Professional?”

  Zack nods. “It will be no different than your relationship with Torment and Fuzzy.”

  Keeping it professional will protect my heart. It will give me a shot at achieving my dream. It will mean having Zack back in my life but without the risk of getting involved. I hesitate for a heartbeat, and then I nod. “Okay.”

  His eyes warm, the gold flecks sparkling in the dim light. “You are still the bravest person I know.”

  “Not like you. I saw some of your opponents. It took courage just to walk into those—”

  He cuts me off with a kiss.

  Oh my God. He’s kissing me. His lips are soft. Sure. Familiar. So delicious. So utterly sensual, I cannot pull away. His fingers thread through my hair, holding me still as he kisses me with an intensity that takes my breath away.

  Stop.

  My head is spinning, and I’m breathing fast as I reach for him, hands gripping his shoulders as I try to hold on. I am aching everywhere, every nerve firing at once in a rush of sensation that sweeps me away.

  I am on fire.

  “What happened to keeping it professional?” I gasp when he lets me up for air.

  “Tomorrow, professional. Tonight, I need you.”

  His words warm me from the inside out. He slides one arm around my waist, flexes until every inch of my body is pressed tight against him. This close, he molds to my body like he was made to be there. Like we are one person, not two.

  Something cracks inside me. Longing breaks free, wraps around Zack, and refuses to let go. I missed him. I missed him so much, it hurts inside. Being with him is like coming home. It feels so right.

  “Zack…”

  “I got you.”

  His chest rises and falls with mine. His heart pounds inside my body. I can feel his rock-hard erection against my hips.

  Stop.

  But it’s me who is kissing now. My mouth fitting to his. My moans echoing around us. My tongue searching, touching, tasting. Deeply. Desperately. He shudders, and his tongue caresses mine, velvety soft. So decadent. Erotic. So very, very wrong for me. And yet, I never imagined I could feel like this again, never thought I could be awakened by a kiss.

  His fingers stroke gently over the curve of my ear, along my jaw, caress my cheek even as his other hand tightens in my hair, as if he’s afraid I will run away.

  But there is nowhere I want to run, nowhere I want to hide. There is only Zack.

  Zack with his hard body pressed against mine.

  Zack with his soft lips on my cheek.

  Zack sliding his hands under my ass and carrying me to Torment’s desk.

  With one sweep of his hand, he clears the desk. Then he lays me back on the cold, hard surface. Papers flutter to the floor around me, like the ashes I will become when Torment finds out what I’ve done.

  Oh God.

  “Zack…” My heart pounds, not just in anticipation of what we’re about to do in Torment’s office but of what might happen if Torment were to find out.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs against my ear. So confident. Commanding. Dangerous. Dominant. Protective. Passionate. Darkly handsome. He’s the kind of man I have always avoided since leaving Glenwood and yet secretly desired. The kind of man I hid from in Damian’s arms, only to discover I’d run in the wrong direction.

  “I’m not afraid. I’m terrified.” My breath is coming fast and hard, and I am wet for him, hot and aching. And I hate myself for it. I am opening myself up to heartache and pain. One night with Zack won’t be enough.

  “But you’re still here.” He slants his head and cuts me off with a fierce kiss, bruising my lips, his fingers digging so hard into my skin, my eyes tear. Blood pounds in my temples, my hunger for him raw and wild. I slide my arms around his neck and drag him down for more.

  “You’ve got a beautiful body,” he says as he runs his hands down my curves. “I want to lick my way over every one of your muscles. I want to taste you all over again.”

  He leans over and nuzzles my neck, the rough stubble of his beard scraping over my sensitive skin, and then he cups my breast in his hand and kneads it gently through my clothes. I am on fire, sweat beading and running down my back. I know better than this.

  Play with fire and you will get burned.

  He rolls my nipple, taut beneath my clothes, between his thumb and forefinger until I arch up on the table, hungry for more.

  “There’s my girl,” he mutters half to himself. “Wanting what I can give her.”

 
Who is this man and where did he learn to talk like that? His sensual words rip down my barriers almost as quickly as his naughty hands. He cups my other breast, squeezing and stroking until I feel swollen and sore and desperate for his hands on my bare skin.

  “Torment’s desk…” I don’t know if I’m warning or wanting, but I stop thinking when Zack presses my legs apart and leans over me. And then he is everywhere, his hands hot under my shirt, his tongue in my mouth, his body pressed up against me, his erection firm against my stomach. I can’t think, can’t fight. I want him like I’ve never wanted a man before, and I’ll do almost anything to have him.

  A door slams in the distance, and I stiffen on the cold wood surface. Zack’s head whips around just as the hall lights come on. Heart pounding, I scoot off the desk and drop to the floor to gather up Torment’s papers.

  “Leave them.” He holds out his hand to me.

  “Are you crazy?” I stand and dump an armful of papers on the desk. “Blade Saw will tell him he gave me the keys. He’ll know I was here.”

  Zack pulls his ring off his finger. Every MEFC fighter who wins a title belt is given a ring by the MEFC CEO to commemorate the victory. I don’t know which of his four title fight rings he is wearing, but when he tosses it on Torment’s desk, my hand flies to my mouth.

  “Zack.” My voice comes out in a strangled whisper. “What are you doing? Your ring…it’s precious. He’ll know it’s yours and he’ll come after you.”

  “I know.” He clasps my hand and tugs me toward the door.

  “You don’t have to protect me,” I protest.

  “I need to protect you, sweetheart. It’s what I was born to do.”

  11

  Shayla

  My first day after agreeing to let Zack coach me turns out to be the day after Stan’s sometime girlfriend dumped him for an even more ripped, more successful personal trainer from Beverly Hills.

  Lucky me gets to avoid the brunt of his anger, because I’m on day two of my light exercise program, but I feel for the rest of the team who have to endure a workout so incredibly brutal, they can barely make it to the water cooler during our halftime break.

  “You want some cheese to go with that whine?” Stan shouts as Sandy stumbles across the mats to join me and Sadist in line, hair plastered to her head, clothes drenched in sweat.

  “He’s a sadist,” Sandy mutters under her breath. “I suspected as much, but now I know.”

  “I’m the sadist.” Sadist hands her a towel. “He’s stealing all my best lines.”

  I pat his sweaty shoulder. “You’ll always be Rampage to me.” Sadist was the first person I met when I walked into Redemption. In those days, the area was more dangerous than it is now, and he guarded the front door with the ferocity of a rabid dog. Only members were allowed to cross the red line he had painted across the floor, and only his closest friends knew the strength that lay beneath his yellow happy face vest. Now, he’s a different man—physically and emotionally. Ever since he hooked up with his girlfriend, Penny, he’s become more content, less the Redemption gossip, and more the shoulder to lean on. I’ve been angling to get him alone all morning so I can talk to him about Zack, but Sandy won’t leave us alone.

  “Don’t send me back,” Sandy whispers. “Please. I can’t take it. There isn’t a muscle left in my body that doesn’t hurt. I can’t even smile.”

  Sadist gives her damp head a gentle pat. “You’re the one who asked to take Shilla’s place this week, but if you really want, I can take him outside. Rough him up a bit.”

  Sandy sighs. “You outweigh him by about fifty pounds. It wouldn’t be a fair fight. And besides, if anyone reported you to the CSAC, you could lose your fight license.”

  I nod in agreement. The California State Athletic Commission regulates professional and amateur MMA by licensing participants and supervising events. They have strict rules against illegal and underground fights and penalties can be severe.

  “How about Slayer?” Sadist suggests. “I’ve seen him glaring at Stan. He might be up for a little alley fight, and he’s not a licensed fighter, so no risk of being sanctioned.”

  “He hasn’t fought in four years,” I say.

  “He still trains.” Sadist’s lips quirk in a smile. Although he doesn’t gossip as much, he is still the eyes and ears of Redemption. “He asked Torment for a guest pass and he was here at five a.m. when the gym opened. And when I say train, I don’t mean keeping fit. He did everything I did—drills, speed work, strength work, jiu-jitsu. He just didn’t step into the ring.”

  Sandy takes her turn filling her water bottle, and I whisper to Sadist, “I think he’s getting back into shape because of me. He offered to take some time off his recruiting work and coach me. I texted Torment about it this morning.”

  “You dog.” Sadist gives me what from anyone else would be a friendly punch in the arm and almost knocks me sideways across the floor. “How did you manage that? Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No. Of course not.” I huff my displeasure. “Why do I have to be sleeping with him? Maybe he sees my potential, and because he’s a nice guy, he wants to help me make it to the top.”

  Sadist laughs. “He’s a guy. You’re you. And you two have a history.”

  When I open my mouth to protest, he holds up his hand. “Save your breath. You’re gonna tell me you were just friends, but you don’t slap a friend who hurts you. That kind of pain only comes from the heart.”

  “Okay, we used to date,” I admit. “But it ended a long time ago.”

  “Badly, I assume.” Sadist puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me away from the water cooler where Sandy is now chatting with Blade Saw. “But now he’s back, and he wants to pick up where you two left off.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen.” I lean against the edge of one of the raised practice rings. “What he did…the way it ended…there’s no moving on from there.”

  “Obviously there is, or you wouldn’t be talking to him about coaching you,” Sadist says.

  “It’s not personal. It’s business.”

  “Maybe for you, but not for him.” He chuckles. “What does he get out of it?”

  “A bonus?” I shrug, annoyed at myself for not even wondering about Zack’s motives. “I guess if I win the title belt, I’ll have to sign with MEFC. They’ve given him the time off to coach me.”

  Sadist shakes his head. “You’re a free agent. Even if he coaches you to the top, you can sign with any promotion you want, unless he got you to sign something.”

  “No. He just offered to train me. No strings attached.”

  “Out of the goodness of his heart.” Sadist’s lips quiver with a smile. “Or other parts.”

  “I can’t believe you.” I punch his arm, and he doesn’t even look down, like it was a soft breeze tickling his skin. “Does Penny know you talk like this?”

  “It’s gym talk. She knows what goes on at the gym. And if you think that’s bad, you should hear what comes out of her mouth when something gets her going.” His eyes soften. “British swear words are the best. And she knows so many.”

  Penny and Sadist are one of Redemption’s sweet love stories. He was crushing on her forever, and we could never figure out what was holding him back. But Penny did. Not only did she get her man, she turned him into the Sadist he is today.

  “You want my advice?”

  “No.” I do want his advice, but now I’m afraid that he’s going to say something I don’t want to hear.

  “Well, I’m giving it to you anyway.” Sadist grins. “Let it go.”

  “Let what go?”

  “Whatever it is that you’re holding onto. Guilt, regret, anger, pain. Let it go and move on.”

  I look down at my leg. Although I wear knee-length leggings at the gym, the scars from my surgeries are still clearly visible. I’ve never told anyo
ne about Damian. It was a part of my life I wanted to leave behind. As far as they all know, I fell down some stairs, broke my leg, and couldn’t dance anymore. But it is far from the truth of what happened that night.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Not easy for me to say.” He draws in a breath. “If not for Penny being strong and brave enough to pull me out of the darkness, I would still be stuck in the pain of my past.”

  I stare at him, incredulous. Sadist is the most easygoing and cheerful person in the gym. “You had a past?”

  “We all have a past. It’s what you do with it that determines your future. Don’t let it limit you, Shay. Don’t let it hold you back from going after what your heart really wants.”

  “I don’t know what my heart really wants.”

  He looks over my shoulder and grins. “I think you do, and he’s heading this way.”

  “Slayer!” Sandy intercepts Zack on his way to me, holding him hostage beside a nearby punching bag. “I thought you were gone. My parents were so disappointed they couldn’t meet you. Can you do dinner tonight? They’re both still in town.”

  Zack nods. “Yeah. No problem.”

  No problem? He kisses me in Torment’s office, and now he’s meeting Sandy’s parents? Is that why he was so quick to agree we needed to keep it professional? I don’t want to get involved with him again, but there is no way I can train with Zack if he and Sandy have something going on. I know he’s been with other women, but I don’t need it rubbed in my face.

  “You look fantastic in that gi.” Sandy purrs and gets herself struck off my Christmas list forever.

  Only then do I notice Zack is wearing a gi, and I almost melt in a puddle on the floor. Zack in his jeans and tight T-shirts is breathtakingly gorgeous. Zack in his fight shorts used to send me into a frenzy of lust. Zack in a black gi, his taut pecs and ripped abs partially visible through the opening, a black belt tied around his waist, is incendiary. No wonder Sandy is drooling.