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 anyone 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.
Zack sidesteps her and joins me and Sadist beside the ring.
“You’re a black belt,” I say stupidly. Of course he’s a black belt. He started training in Brazilian jiu-jitsu as a teenager in Glenwood, and he blew quickly through the belts even then. More than ten years after he started, he would be at the top of his game.
“He’s got a black belt in four different martial arts,” Sandy says, joining us. “I had to write up his bio for my parents.”
Before I can ask why she was writing Zack’s bio, I sense a disturbance in the gym. I glance over Zack’s shoulder and see Torment stalking toward us with his henchmen, Ray “the Predator” Black and Jake “Renegade” Donovan in tow.
My heart pounds wildly, and I give Sandy a nudge. “Maybe you and Zack should go grab a protein shake at the snack bar and work on that bio. I’m sure he hasn’t told you everything.”
“Good idea.” She holds a hand out to Zack, but instead of going with Sandy, he steps in front of me, putting his body between me and the oncoming storm.
Torment stops in front of Zack, but his words are directed at me. “Shilla. I got your text. You wanted to talk to me.”
Hope flares in my chest, and I step out from behind Zack. Maybe this isn’t about his office after all. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see Zack’s ring, or maybe the cleaners picked it up, or maybe he hasn’t been in his office this morning.
“Um, yes. Zack has offered to take some time off recruiting to coach me, and I wanted to talk to you and Fuzz—”
“It’s a good idea,” Torment says. “Shake things up. It might be just what you need.”
My tension eases. All okay. “I didn’t want you to feel like he was stepping on your toes or that I didn’t think you and Fuzz were doing a good—”
Torment cuts me off with a wave. “I want every fighter who walks into Redemption to become the best fighter he or she can be. If this is your path to success, I’m all for it, and I know Fuzz will be, too.”
“Okay.” My breath leaves me in a rush. “Good. Great. Thank you.” I look over at Zack. “Isn’t that great?”
If Zack hears me, he doesn’t let me know. Instead, his gaze is fixed on the Predator, who is now warming up in the ring, his lean, ropey muscles flexing and bunching as he stretches. The Predator is the state’s current underground fight champion. He is also a private investigator who sometimes works for Renegade’s attorney girlfriend, Amanda. He and I are good friends. We also had a brief fling, but it didn’t last. He was too intense for me, too dominating, and I was glad when he met Sia, a tattoo artist, who can keep him in line. Now that they have a new baby, I don’t see him very often, but watching him fight is always a treat.
My skin prickles, and I turn back to Torment. On some unspoken signal, Sadist takes the Predator’s place on Torment’s right side, and Renegade flanks his left. Almost immediately, tension thickens the air.
“Zack will need a membership if he’s going to be here every day training you,” Torment says. “He’s been coming in and out using the guest pass I gave him when he was representing MEFC.” He holds out a purple membership card, and I frown. Why is he telling this to me and not Zack?
As if he knows something is wrong, Zack makes no move to take the card. With a snort, Torment turns and tosses it into the ring where it lands at the Predator’s feet.
“What are you doing?” My voice rises in pitch.
“If he wants to coach, he needs a membership. If he wants that membership, he’ll have to go and get it.”
As if on cue, the Predator slams one foot on top of the card and tips his neck from side to side, making it crack.
Oh. My. God. They want him to fight.
“Seriously, Ray?” I am so pissed off, I am beyond ring names, although I know I’ll pay the price for my slip. “What is this? Middle school?”
Torment holds up Zack’s ring. “This is giving someone what they asked for.”
A challenge. He thinks Zack challenged him by tossing the ring on his desk, but Zack was only protecting me.
“If you’re annoyed about your office, blame me. I had the keys. I went in. I made the mess.” I take a step toward Torment, and Zack’s arm slams into my chest, pushing me back.
“Don’t.”
“You don’t need to protect me.” I push his arm away. “I can handle myself. It was my choice, too.”
Torment tips his head to the side and frowns. “I’m confused. I’m sure you would never go into my office without my permission—my office, where I keep highly confidential information. That would be grounds for withdrawing your membership at Redemption—the kind of membership Slayer needs if he wants to be your coach.”
Sandy grabs my arm, her eyes wide. She’s almost as big a gossip as Sadist but with less discretion. “What’s going on? Were you in Torment’s office? With Slayer?”
I shake her off and glare at Torment. “When did you become such a bully?”
“I was always a bully. You just didn’t care.”
Maybe I didn’t before, but I sure do now. Zack can’t fight. After what he went through with Okami, he’ll never step into the ring. I have to think quickly. Egos are involved here. Reputation. And pride. “The Predator has an unfair advantage. He knows the ring. He knows the gym. He has his own equipment. If you want a fair fight, Slayer needs time to get used to Redemption.”
“Shay…” Zack’s jaw tightens. He’s not happy with me for interfering, but too damn bad. He’s in this predicament because he tried to protect me. Now I’m returning the favor.
“He needs a membership.” The Predator toes the card along the mat, and I am a heartbeat away from jumping in the ring and wiping that smirk off his face.
“I have a three-month guest pass at home that I won at the last Christmas party. He can have that.”
Torment twists his lips to the side, considering. “Three months. Then he loses the membership or enters the ring.” Without further explanation, he turns and walks away. Renegade and Sadist follow after him, like they’re guarding his back, except who would dare challenge Torment?
The Predator picks up the membership card and waves it at Zack. “Three months isn’t going to change anything. You got the balls or you don’t. Why waste time? Get your pansy ass up here, and I’ll let you kiss my fucking feet.”
“Don’t listen to him.” I grab Zack’s hand and try to drag him away. “He’s being an ass. Don’t play his game.”
“Yeah, Slayer. Listen to your woman,” taunts the Predator. “Run away.”
Zack’s body turns rock solid. I can’t move him an inch. His gaze is locked on the Predator, and I know he is seconds away from making the biggest mistake of his life. He might be physically fit, but I know he’s mentally not ready to get back in the ring.
“Slayer.” Torment shouts over the clatter of weights and the whir of cardio machines. “Three months. You touch him before then, and you’ll never step foot in Redemption again.”
I send a silent thank you to Torment for defusing the situation and allowing Zack to save face. In that moment, I hate Torment just a bit less.
The Predator blows Zack a kiss and climbs out of the ring, making a big show of tucking the membership card in the pocket of his gym shorts.
“You okay?” I place a gentle hand on Zack’s arm, trying to calm him down. His chest is still heaving, his muscles primed and ready to fight.
“Fuck.” He shakes my hand off and slams his fist into a nearby punching bag.
“I’m sorry he put you in that position.”
Zack slams his fist into the punching bag again, alternating curses with strikes. When he has punched for so long, his gi is wet with sweat, he leans against the bag, panting his breaths.
“What was that about?” I hand him a towel. Torment has set up water and towel stations throughout the gym and has them restocked on an hourly basis.
“I could take him.”
I suck in my lips, briefly consider and then quickly discard a lie. Zack is an up-front kind of guy. He would want the truth even if it hurt. “You were a great fighter. When I joined Redemption, I watched all your past fights. But the Predator fights on the underground circuit. He’s never been beaten. He turns into an animal in the ring. At your peak, you might have been able to beat him in a sanctioned competition because he doesn’t like rules, but not in an underground ring.”
“Not the Predator.” He snorts in derision. “Torment.”
“Torment?” I bite back a laugh. “No one can beat Torment.”
“I can.”
My mouth opens to tell him that even at the top of his game, he wouldn’t have been able to beat Torment, but I close it again. What’s the point in sharing that truth with him? What difference does it make if he believes it? He’s never going to have that fight.
“What’s with the gi?” I tug on his collar, hoping to distract him. “Are you taking a class tonight?”
“Renegade invited me to teach his jiu-jitsu class with him so I can see what you’ve been learning,” he says in a curt voice. His gaze hasn’t left the ring, although the Predator is long gone.
“Maybe I should come,” I tease. “Tossing people around and grappling on the mat counts as light exercise, don’t you think?”
Zack shrugs, and I have a strong feeling he didn’t hear me and an even stronger feeling he’s hurting inside.
“Maybe after you’re done at jiu-jitsu, we could go grab a protein shake. We don’t have to talk about this, but we should talk about what happened last night.”
Finally, he tears his gaze away. “Did you change your mind?”
“Not about the coaching, but—”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“No.” I give a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you understand. If we want to keep this professional, then we have to put our personal feelings aside.”
“If that’s what you want.” His eyes shutter, but not before I see pain flicker across his face.
“Yes, that’s what I want.”
He closes the distance between us and cups my cheek in his hand. His gaze drops to my lips, and my body heats to one hundred degrees. “Professional.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Zack runs his thumb gently over my bottom lip. My head falls back, and my mouth opens for him.
“There she is.” He leans down and kisses me so softly, it makes my chest ache.
“What was that?” I ask as he turns away.
Zack looks back over his shoulder, and a slow, sensual smile spreads across his face. “A professional kiss.”