Unbreak This Heart

by Betty Shreffler

  “Have a good evening, Alex.”

  Allan waves before falling into step with John.

  With the swipe of the hotel key, Carter pushes the hotel room door open for me to enter before him. Rolling my bag inside, I set it by the king size bed and take in my surroundings. The room is a suite, fitted with a kitchenette, living room, large bathroom, and further in, the bedroom with a second TV mounted on the wall across from it. Carter rests his bag by the dresser, then stops in front of me. Taking my hands in his, he raises them and kisses each hand.

  “It means so much to have my girl here with me for my first fight. I feel calmer with you here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here too.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I massage at the base. Tilting his head back, he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh.

  “I just want to lay in bed and have you rub on me all evening.”

  “I promise to do that, but not until later. I have a few surprises planned for you.”

  Gaze snapping to mine, one brown brow raises in curiosity. “Surprises?”

  “Mmm, hmm, I made reservations at a highly recommended steak and seafood restaurant, then we’ll come back here and swim in the pool. Afterward, I booked us both massages in the hotel spa.”

  Arms fastened around my waist, resting at my lower back, he rubs one hand up and back down, caressing me with an affectionate touch.

  “You planned all that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  Lips, soft and tender brush against my mouth. His forehead lowers, resting at the peak of mine. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

  Looking into his sapphire eyes, I see the adoration I feel emanating from him.

  “You’re going to do great tomorrow and I’ll be there when it’s all over to kiss every bruise and massage your tired muscles.”

  With the graze of his thumb, his hand settles at my jaw. “How much time do we have before dinner?”

  “An hour.”

  “Plenty of time for me to make love to you.”

  A kiss, masculine and greedy steals my breath. With his hand on my back, he pulls me on top of him as he falls to his back on the bed. Fingertips caress along my cheek and neck, keeping rhythm with the pace of his smoldering kiss.

  ***

  My bare feet dangle over the edge as I watch Carter take his fourth lap across the distance of the pool. With each powerful stroke, his muscles flex, revealing his toned back. I’ve noticed the difference these last couple of weeks have made on his body. He’s pushed harder, increased weights, running, increased his carbs. There’s no doubt the ladies will swoon over him tomorrow. He’s a stunning work of art, packaged in hard contoured muscles beneath a set of gorgeous blue eyes. And lucky for me, those eyes look at me as if I’m the most precious possession he owns. It’s true though, he owns my heart—completely.

  Carter accepts my flaws and doesn’t punish me for them. With him, I feel free to be me, free to be scared, happy, or sad. He’s the kind of man who will wipe my tears and hold me through the pain. The kind of man who will make me laugh when all I want to do is frown. He makes me stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. With his patience and love, he’s repaired the shredded pieces of my soul. I no longer feel broken—he’s made me whole.

  “What are you thinking about, beautiful?” Carter swims between my legs and rests his arms on my thighs, looking up at me with sparkling blues.

  “Thinking about you.”

  “Yeah? Good things?”

  My giggle is involuntary. “Of course, good things. I’m sitting here thinking about how much you mean to me. How much I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Strong, wet hands take hold of my waist and pull me into the warm water with him. My back rests against the wall, my legs snug around his hips. His hands cup my ass cheeks as his lips close in on mine.

  “I don’t think there’s anything in this world that can make me happier than you.”

  Slipping between my lips, his tongue mingles with mine, a sensuous kiss toppling me, head over heels. I once believed Todd was it for me. How foolish I was.

  ***

  A messy bun holds my dark hair atop my head while my feet are pampered by soft, white spa slippers. Between Carter making love to me and the tranquilizing massage, my body is in complete relaxation. Just before stepping into the shower area I see Carter exit the door to his massage room. I witness his relaxed expression before he raises his head, takes note of me, and winks. Relief fills me he enjoyed his massage. Short of being able to ensure he wins tomorrow, I feel I’ve done well helping him prepare and relax before the important fight.

  Showered and redressed, I meet Carter in the waiting area. Standing, he reaches out his hand, and I take it. His smile lights up his eyes, and for the first time in days, I feel a sharp and sudden concern about tomorrow’s fight.

  “You okay?” Carter raises my hand to his lips and kisses it.

  The last thing I want to do is make him worry. “Yes, it’s been a great night. I’m ready to cuddle in bed with you though.”

  “Me too.”

  Releasing my hand, his arm curls around my waist as we exit the spa.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  —

  ALEX

  Sitting in between Sandy and Kevin, my ass is wiggling as my nerves and excitement topple around my belly like a tumbleweed. The last I saw Carter, he had headphones on while shadow boxing. The trainers kicked us out moments after we said our good lucks and praises. He’s going to do great, I know it, but I can’t fight this jittery feeling.

  The pulsing of bright, moving lights fills my gaze as the main lights are dimmed. The eager attention of every viewer goes to the entrance. A microphone clatters before a voice booms.

  “Are you ready for the show tonight?” The announcer’s excited voice riles the audience. A chorus of whistles and hoots surround me as my eyes dart anxiously between the entrance and the announcer.

  “Fighting out of the red corner with two wins and zero losses, weighing in at one-hundred-seventy-one pounds, Reggie Renegade McMillan!”

  Layered in lean muscle, tall, tatted, and sporting red shorts, Reggie owns the walkway. Confidence exudes from his solid frame. If he’s nervous at all, it doesn’t show. Fans stand in unison. Cheers and hoots echo through the casino’s arena. The excitement is alive, a buzz moving through the crowd, heavy in the warm atmosphere. The audience is here for bloodshed and brutality. Reggie looks eager to feed their desires, using my Carter as the means.

  Throbbing in my ears, my heart pounds against my chest. Reggie enters the ring and the announcer riles the crowd for the next announcement.

  “Fighting out of the blue corner with zero wins and zero losses, weighing in at one-hundred-seventy pounds, Carter Maxwell!”

  Jumping to my feet, I scream and cheer until my throat feels raw. I’m not alone. Around me, Carter’s family cheer just as passionately. Eyes focused on Carter’s, I wait for him to glance our way. It’s brief, but our eyes connect and my lips crease into a smile. The nerves I witnessed earlier in the day are washed away, concealed by confidence, buried below his determination.

  Worry etches across my brow. Realization of what I’ve feared all along is Carter won’t quit this fight until he’s broken and can no longer see or stand. He wants to win as much as he wants to breathe, so he’s determined to succeed. Fear, palpable and harsh, tightens my gut.

  The crowd awaits as the lead trainers say their piece. With shoes and shirts removed, mouth guards are slid in, Vaseline wiped over their brows, followed by slaps on the backs before they position themselves in the center of the ring.

  “Fuck him!” Kevin shouts next to me.

  Reggie is already sending a message by refusing to touch gloves. The arrogant asshole has a reputation to keep. Carter shrugs it off. The referee shouts, “Let’s do this!”

  Wasting no time, Reggie swings, clocking Carter in the upper cheek. Carter takes the hit, and quickly rebounds, sees the opportunity, and slams a fist into Reg
gie’s unshielded ribs. Then another, a third. Reggie goes in close, intent to take Carter down on the ground where he will have the advantage. Leg folded over Carter’s calf, Reggie goes for the takedown. Carter jumps back and counters with a flying knee.

  Carter’s not going to stay on the defensive. A skin to skin slap echoes in the air. Carter’s just gained points for the leg kick to Reggie’s calf. Bouncing on their feet, they dip and side step, calculating their next attack and each other’s next move. A fist whizzes through the air, Reggie makes contact with Carter’s face and I wince. Instantly, Carter punches back. Reggie takes a step, putting space between them. Carter doesn’t hesitate and kicks the exact same spot on Reggie’s calf.

  Reggie is fueled, he leans forward, one swing, then another, knocking Carter against the cage. My hand shoots to my mouth and Kevin rubs my back.

  “Don’t worry, Little Bird, Carter’s got this.”

  Carter comes back swinging. The testosterone is off the charts. The men are circling each other like lions going in for the kill. With a spin, Carter raises his leg and kicks at Reggie’s upper body. Reggie is pissed and charges with two more swings, making contact. Carter gets another kick in and the crowd goes wild as Reggie throws up his arms mouthing something inaudible to Carter.

  Carter shocks the viewers when he charges Reggie, grips his hips, wraps a leg around his calf and takes him down. Reggie clearly wasn’t expecting Carter to make such a bold move, but he still handles the takedown, punching and kicking his way out.

  Back in the center, Reggie throws punches and Carter alternates dodging and swinging. Sweat beads off their swollen, red backs. From the stand, I can see Carter’s puffy left eye and discolored cheek. The first round is nearly over. I’m not sure I can take two more rounds of this.

  On the attack, Reggie moves forward, punching at Carter over and over, making Carter back step into the cage wall. Turning his body, Carter moves away from the fence, placing himself on the outside and lunges, swinging twice. Both men back step, watching the other, analyzing the other for their next move. Carter kicks twice, goes for a third and Reggie traps his leg, using it as leverage to overtake Carter. My muscles tighten, I know Reggie is stronger on the ground. Bouncing on his leg, Carter stays upright, and I let out the breath I was holding when the bell rings.

  “You doing all right? Carter told me to keep an eye on you. No passing out on me.”

  The enormity of Kevin’s hand feels odd when he gently touches my arm, stabilizing my shimmying knees. Releasing my weight against him, I ease into the seat.

  “Two more rounds of this, Kevin. He’s already beaten up.”

  The hungry crowd around me feverishly shift on the edge of their seats awaiting the break to end.

  Back on my feet, I lean left and right, trying to get a good view of Carter as he and Reggie bounce and bob around the center of the ring. Clammy hands clench at my side as I inhale and exhale shallow, fearful breaths. Carter swings first and Reggie’s body thrusts to the side. The hit to his upper face must have been hard, he sidesteps and takes a second to rebound. Carter doesn’t give mercy. Moving his feet forward, Carter swings, again and again. Reggie seems rattled but returns swings just as fiercely.

  Scarlet red dapples the floor. My chest constricts as I search for the source. It’s Reggie’s blood. Above his left eye, red tears leak down his face. Carter punches at the same spot and Reggie takes a step back. Relentless, Carter punches Reggie into the fence. Interlocking limbs rock from side to side as they fight to overtake the other.

  The tussle moves away from the fence. Arms fly free as they realize neither is going down. A blue glove meets Reggie’s face once again, and this time, Reggie stumbles. Blood spatters smear the floor as his knee buckles. Adrenaline coursing through his body, Carter seems ready to engage, to continue the pummeling, but the referee steps forward and places a hand on Reggie.

  A technical knockout. The referee approaches Carter and raises his hand as the doctor and Reggie’s coach move in and help Reggie to his corner. A blood trail follows Reggie to his side of the ring. The crowd roars in waves. All my bottled fear escapes my body as I raise my arms and scream in celebration.

  Allan joins Carter and hugs him, patting him on the back. The triumphant expression on Carter’s face is burned into my mind. This is where he feels alive.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  —

  ALEX

  Flashing blue and white lights have been traded from the excited buzz of the casino MMA ring to the dim, blue and white lighting of a Miami hotel suite. Inside, an array of fighters, friends, and groupies form several small energized crowds. With each inhaled breath, the aroma of beer, chocolate, and an overabundance of perfume consumes me. Upon the insistence of a fellow fighter from Knock Out Champions, Carter and I joined the after party.

  Within a few steps past the door, Carter’s embraced by two other fighters and quickly encased by a herd of legs and breasts. Grip tight on my hand, Carter pulls me close to him like a shield against the caressing hands and requests for signatures. Smiling cordially, I know he’s being pleasant for his reputation. He signs a few memorabilia items then excuses himself from the overly affectionate women.

  The last thing I want is to become the publicity blocker. Brushing my thumb over his hand to get his attention, I tilt my head toward the bar. “I’ll get us something to drink.”

  “Thank you,” he mouths, caressing my hand. My arm raises as he reluctantly lets me go.

  Twisting and turning through the crowds, I make my way to the bar. Behind the cream marble top is a tall, light blond-haired guy in a black, fitted t-shirt and black slacks serving a variety of liquor to the waiting hands. He winks at me, mouth tilting.

  “What can I get ya, pretty girl?”

  “Sweet tea and whiskey, and a beer.”

  “Coming right up,” he replies, reaching for two cups.

  Arm resting on the bar, my gaze returns to Carter and the small crowd surrounding him. There’s a generous number of pats to his back, smiles, and two pretty women inching as close as he’ll allow. Seeing him do his best to dodge their advances pulls at the corner of my mouth. Stress creases form across his brow as he anxiously awaits my return.

  “Here you are.”

  The bartender’s voice breaks my gaze and I toss cash onto the bar top. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks.” A toothy grin spreads as he swipes the cash off the counter.

  Drinks in hand, I turn toward Carter’s direction and nearly drop both cups as a brush of cool, wet marker swirls across my moderately exposed cleavage. My breath catches as the wielder of this marker winks at me, his tongue darting across his bottom lip as if he likes what he sees. Humiliation and discomfort compete for hierarchy. Before dumping my drink on him, I glance around me and discover I’ve stepped into a line of eager women, vying for this fighter’s attention and signature. Happily, he’s giving it to anything placed directly in front of his face, which unluckily for me, were my breasts.

  Just as quickly, he moves onto the next female who thinks my idea is genius and lowers her shirt and bra, so the fleshy pink skin surrounding the nipple is visible. Immediately, and thankfully, I’m forgotten as the fighter encourages her to lower the shirt more. Giggles ensue just before a nipple pops from beneath her bra. Bolting with far less dignity, I find Carter where I left him.

  Instantly, Carter’s gaze drops to my left breast, and his brow dips in the same confusion I had moments ago.

  “Wrong place, wrong time. I was mistaken for a fangirl. Not my finest moment.”

  Carter breaks into a humored laugh and the heat in my face lessens as I chuckle along with him. “I need to find a bathroom and wash this off.”

  “Yes, please. I’m finding myself dangerously jealous that another man’s name is on my beautiful girl’s body. Dangerous, because I don’t have the energy to pummel him.”

  “Pummel who?”

  A playful, cocky voice chimes next to me and my eyes follo
w the tats along the arms to the culprit of my embarrassment. Almond brown eyes drop to my breasts and that damn tongue darts out of his mouth licking his bottom lip.

  “You’re a fan?”

  Carter places his arm protectively around my waist and brings my side to his. “Crank, this is my girl, Alex. She was getting me a drink and unintentionally ran into your marker.”

  Warmth spreads to my cheeks just before Crank laughs.

  “Sorry about that, hun. You’ll have to forgive my oversight.”

  “It’s all right. I was just on the way to the bathroom to wash it off.”

  Carter’s lips graze my head before I pull away in search of a bathroom.

  —CARTER—

  Crank’s gaze momentarily follows Alex’s ass and my grip tightens on the cup in my hand. Keeping my cool is necessary as Crank is a star fighter for Knock Out Champions and technically, my teammate. I can’t hit him, but I still have my limits.

  “Look too hard and I might have to challenge your title,” I quip, raising my beer.

  Crank’s lips twist into a smirk and he pries his eyes away. Tipping his beer back, he relaxes against the wall next to me.

  “You shouldn’t bring your girl to parties like this. You can get more ass here than a toilet seat.”

  “Her ass is the only one I want.”

  “For now, you do.” Crank’s gaze searches through the plethora of women mingling in the hotel suite. Landing on one, he rubs the back of his fingers against his scruff and makes a beeline for a tall blonde.

  “Enjoy the party,” his words trail off.

  Before I’m caught alone, I wander to the vacant balcony. Each step reminds me of the toll tonight’s fight took on my body. Purple and blue blotches and busted skin are the superficial marks left over from Reggie’s ferocity, but it’s my muscles that scream for me to give them the relief of a cushy hotel bed. All I want is to relax with my girl in my arms and feel the touch of her hands all over my body as I drift into oblivion.