by Laurie Roma
Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Laurie Roma
ISBN: 978-1-77233-596-5
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JS Cook
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to all the people who love the town of Breakers as much as I do...
DANTE’S ANGEL
The Breakers’ Bad Boys, 3
Laurie Roma
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Thud, thud, thud...
The impact of Dante Fox’s gloved fists slamming against the heavy bag sounded overloud in the empty gym. It was way past closing at the Fight Hard Gym and Rehabilitation Center, but Dante had the key and security codes to the building for nights like this.
Restless nights when memories kept him awake and too on edge for sleep.
The gym had been created out of an old, gutted warehouse in the heart of downtown Breakers. Usually, it was well lit, with the abundance of overhead lighting, but now it was cast in shadows. The only light in the place came from the single spotlight near the back door that he’d turned on when he’d entered the building. Some might have found the large, empty space unnerving, but not Dante. Right now, he needed the quiet as he pounded his fists into the bag.
He wanted the solitude found in the dark while he worked himself to exhaustion.
Perspiration ran down his bare chest in streams and went unnoticed as he continued to pound the bag. His shorts were also soaked, but he didn’t care. He’d tied a bandana over his hair to keep the worst of the sweat from dripping onto his face, but he still felt the sting of salt in his eyes as he pushed himself to his limits.
As a former Army Ranger, Dante was used to training and being active, and having his friend, Jared “Hammer” Caufield, open a gym in the center of town had been a blessing. Dante had served with in the Army with Hammer, but their lives had taken far different paths when they had left the service.
After the military, Hammer had a successful career as an MMA fighter before he’d blown his knee out and decided to open Fight Hard. He might own the place, but their friends, Daryk Nyght and Adam Rever, also had a stake in gym. Together, the three of them had made Fight Hard a successful business, and something they could be proud of. Dante shot a cursory glance around the shadowed room as he slowed his pace and felt a wave of satisfaction sweep through him when he looked at what his friends had created.
It was a damn good place.
A place to get healthy and heal…and to escape to when needed.
The large space was set up with several separate areas sectioned off for members to train in various disciplines. There were basic weight machines and treadmills located in the front of the building that were a standard for any gym, and a set of tatami judo mats used for floor work and grappling for more advanced training. In the back were two full size boxing rings, which were frequently used for sparring matches between the members, and were even used to host a few local matches when Hammer felt the inclination.
Against the back wall was the newest addition to the gym. A large rock climbing wall had recently been installed, with two levels of hand holds. One side of the wall was geared for more expert climbers, while the other side was for beginners. The wall had only been finished a few days ago, and there had been a long line of people waiting to try it out during the hours the gym was open. Despite the safety lines and harnesses, thick padded mats had been installed at the bottom of the wall in case anyone fell, and trainers kept diligent eyes on anyone who was climbing in case they got in trouble.
Up above on the second level of the building was a treatment center used for rehabilitation for athletes, soldiers and people recovering from other serious injuries. When the doors to Fight Hard had opened, there had been several people who had scoffed at the idea of such a high-level facility being opened in a small town like Breakers, but with Hammer’s reputation and connections, the place was a thriving business.
During business hours, Fight Hard was almost always packed with people. They had their share of members who worked out casually, but the gym had also gained professional athletes as clientele who traveled to Breakers during their off seasons.
In the last few months, Hammer had started taking on a few more former professional athletes as trainers, especially to coach and instruct teams that had expressed interest in booking a few weeks of intense training. It was good for Fight Hard, but more than that, it would be good for the entire town. Still, the thought of all those people flooding into Dante’s hometown didn’t excite him as it should have.
Actually, just thinking about it was pretty fucking annoying at the moment.
Dante was usually a pretty social guy, but when it came to his workouts, he tried to avoid Fight Hard during peak hours when the nine-to-fivers got in their exercise. Sometimes he enjoyed being part of the crowd that pushed themselves for the endorphin high that came with a hard workout, but most of the time—like tonight—he needed the quiet and the dark.
Sweat covered Dante’s entire body and his muscles quivered with fatigue. He enjoyed the pain of pushing himself to the breaking point, but knew he needed to stop soon before he actually hurt himself. The physical activity had been a welcomed distraction in lieu of the thoughts that plagued him, but he forced himself to pull back and put an end to his workout.
Calling it quits, Dante left the heavy bag swaying on the chain as he walked away to sit on a bench that was stationed against the wall. Ignoring the sweat coating his skin, he took off the padded gloves and began to unwind the wraps he’d used to protect his hands. Even with the added protection, his knuckles were red from the constant battering he’d put them through. Flexing his hands, he shook them out, then rested his elbows on his knees as he took a moment to slow his breathing.
No one could ever accuse him of being a restful man, but recently the late night workouts were getting to be a routine that had begun to worry him.
Hell, worry was such a pussy word...it was just fucking frustrating.
Dante had been a good soldier, but his time overseas had done something to him that he hadn’t expected. Those years had hardened him, changing him to a point where he had barely recognized himself when he’d come home. He’d been damn proud to serve his country, had done what was asked of him without question, but the aftermath of those years made it difficult to transition back to normal life.
It wasn’t that he regretted anything he’d done. In fact, it was just the opposite of that. He missed the action. Not that he wanted to be back in a combat situation. Hell, no. He was done with that shit. Done with taking orders and spending countless days sweating his balls off in the middle of nowhere while people shot at him.
But the adrenaline rush was something that wasn’t as easy to forget.
Unlike some of his friends, Dante rarely pulled punches, whether it be literally or figuratively. In his opinion, too much time was wasted on trying to be nice and worrying about what other people thought. Usually, whatever he said was done with such casual frankness that no one really took offense. Because of that, people generally thought he was the most laid back and easygoing out of his circle of friends, but not lately.
No, recently he’d been surly and short-tempered.
Hell, that was putting it lightly. The truth was, he’d turned into a snarly bastard.
Dante had been like that when he’d just gotten home from overseas, and he’d worked really hard on transitioning back to “normal” once he’d returned. Mostly, it was a careful façade that he’d put in place when dealing with others, but the reality was that the only time he actually felt normal was when he was fighting…or fucking.
It was the only time he felt anything real.
Empty spaces, he thought. He had empty spaces inside of him that left him feeling hollow. He knew what he used to fill those holes were only temporary fixes, and those patches made the emptiness more pronounced when they faded. Some of his friends had laughed off his statement about his need to fuck or fight when Dante had told them how he felt, but a few knew all too well that he wasn’t joking. Not in the least. And that’s why he’d found himself coming to the gym to pound on the bags almost every night…like some sort of goddamn insane ritual of self-torture.
Because fucking wasn’t an option. At least, it hadn’t been for the last several months.
Fuck it. Who was he kidding? Dante knew exactly why he’d turned into a raging asshole lately, and it was all because of one damn infuriatingly stubborn woman.
It was all because of Zoe Lang.
Dante remembered the first time Zoe had walked into his bar, The Fox Hole. It had been the middle of the afternoon, and he’d been in a bitch of a mood as he’d just finished struggling to input the day’s deliveries into the computer. Dante hated office work with a passion, and he’d enjoyed escaping behind the bar for a little while to work off the hours of horror he’d spent in his office. He’d been manning the tap when the front door had opened, and there she’d been.
He had been prepared for her arrival, or so he’d thought. His father had told him that he’d promised a friend that they would give Zoe a job at the bar since she was new to town. Dante knew that his father took favors to old friends very seriously, but he hadn’t liked being forced into hiring someone without giving them a proper screening.
But that had been before he’d met her.
Dante considered himself a connoisseur of women. There was something that could be found about every single one of them that made each woman unique, but there had been something extra special that made Zoe stand out from that very first moment their eyes had locked.
When she’d introduced herself, he’d had a crazy urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off, like some sort of caveman. He remembered standing there staring at her like he’d been mentally defective, not hearing a single word she’d said. His blank stare had scared her, and he’d had to shake himself out of his stupor in order to act normally.
But that hadn’t lasted long.
Dante had noticed all the men in the bar looking at Zoe, and that had made him unreasonably angry. In defense, he’d herded her into his office so they could speak privately. The interview had been more for form than anything, since he’d already promised to hire her. They were always looking for good waitresses, and she’d had some previous experience, but it had only take a few minutes speaking to her for him to realize he hadn’t wanted to hire Zoe for the simple fact that he wanted her.
Dante had a rule when it came to his employees. He didn’t fuck around at work. That would be a shit load of trouble he didn’t want to deal with, and he’d had to fire a few waitresses that pushed too far instead of dealing with the hassle in the past.
But for Zoe, he would have broken his rule.
He still would…and planned to at the earliest freaking opportunity.
It hadn’t taken Dante long to see that having the Asian beauty out on the floor would be an absolute disaster. In fact, it would have been deadly for any man who tried to touch her. As a waitress, the women that worked at The Fox Hole wore a tight black tank that had the name of the bar on the front, paired with a short black skirt. Zoe acted tough, but there was an air of vulnerability that she’d been unable to hide from him.
It had brought out an insanely protective side of himself Dante had never even known he had.
Even though he and his men made sure that all women were safe in the bar, Dante hadn’t been able to stand the idea of Zoe roaming around the room with drunk men hitting on her at every turn. Instead, he’d made her a bartender, where she would have some semblance of protection behind the bar…and where he could personally keep an eye on her.
It also meant she could wear jeans with the tank top she was supposed to wear. There was a waiting list a mile long for bartending positions, and Dante had known more than a few people would bitch about his decision, but he hadn’t given a flying fuck.
When he’d informed her of his decision, Zoe had been surprised by the switch, but she’d been game to learn and had promised to study up on drinks in order to do the job. He’d assured her that there wasn’t much to manning the taps at The Fox Hole. Most of the patrons tended to order beer on tap or in the bottle, but there were a few other signature drinks that were on the menu that weren’t too difficult to learn how to make.
Dante knew his reaction to Zoe was unusual, but he’d written it off as attraction, and left it at that. He’d never been good at holding himself back from something he wanted. He was the type of man who rarely let anything get in his way when he had a goal. But as time went on, there was something about Zoe that had alarm bells ringing in his head. He’d hoped he would get over the feeling as soon as he got her beneath him and moved on.
Only, that hadn’t happened.
Zoe was an absolute mystery to him. After the first few days of her working with him, he could see that she was damn good at the job. She was beautiful, friendly to the customers, and learned the drink menu with ease. As with all their employees, he’d done the standard background check on her and nothing had popped. Still, Dante’s internal warning system had nagged at him. It was clear she was wicked smart, far too intelligent to be happy working in a biker bar in a small town, but whatever brought her there had been his gain, so he’d let it go.
Or at least he let people believe he’d let it go.
She had proved herself through her hard work, and when she’d shown an aptitude for the accounting program he usually struggled with on the computer, he’d gratefully dumped the entire mess in her lap. That was odd in itself, because he shouldn’t have let someone who had only worked for him a short time help with the finances of the business. But he’d gone with instincts on that, and it had paid off. He’d still double checked her work, but with her helping with the managerial duties, things at the bar had been streamlined in the matter of weeks.
Yeah, hiring her had been both a blessing and a curse.
Over the long months she’d been working for him, Zoe had quickly become one of his most valuable employees, but she was more than that to him. So much more. The sexual tension was there between them, and it got worse every day.
But Dante hadn’t been able to do a fucking thing about it.
How the hell could he when she’d shot him down flat? He could deal with rejection. Where one woman said no, countless others would say yes. The problem was he didn’t want any other women. No, he wanted Zoe. She had somehow turned into an obsession that had his body in a constant state of need, like an addict that craved a fix.
And that craving had turned into a hunger that was slowly driving him out of his mind.
With a growl of frustration, Dante got up from the bench and stalked toward the men’s locker room to wash the sweat from his body. Thinking about Zoe always put him on edge, and it completely wiped out the calm he’d gain from the last few hours hitting the bags.
Dante ignored the classy ambiance of the men’s locker room that usually amused him and headed straight for his locker. He left his dirty clothes on the floor right where he stripped them off and felt a brief pang of guilt when he looked down at the pile. Leave it to Hammer to turn a gym locker room into five star accommodations, he though wryly.
Fuck it.
Dante briefly considered jacking off, but decided against it.
What would be the damn point?
He’d only have a moment of relief, then the next time he thought of Zoe—which seemed to be every other fucking minute—his dick would get hard as stone again, just like it always did when he thought of the little hellion.
It happened so often that he’d gotten used to being a walking hard-on ever since she had come into his life, and knew the only cure would be fucking her into the next century. The damn woman had him so tied up in knots that she destroyed any semblance of control he had whenever he was around her.
Finishing his shower, Dante turned off the water, then used the towel he’d hung outside the shower stall to dry off. He made sure to throw the towel in a bin after he dressed in the jeans and black t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier. It was one thing to leave his own things in a messy pile, but he didn’t want to incur the wrath of Hammer’s cleaning staff when they opened in the morning. Besides, he didn’t want anyone knowing he’d been in after hours…again.
He zipped up the black hoodie with the red and white Rough & Tough logo on it he’d worn in defense against the cool temperature outside, then shoved his dirty gym clothes into a bag. When he left the building, he made sure to set the security system again before he locked the back door.
