Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Read online

  Victor rushed forward, gunning for a takedown. Holt swung him around and forced him to the ground, knee pressed into his chest, where he got a few solid punches in before Victor hooked his legs around Travis’s waist, attempting to limit his movement. Travis wrestled with him for a bit, enjoying the floor play, until he found the chance to escape the leghold. Travis rolled away and launched himself to his feet with only half a second to dodge Victor’s incoming uppercut. Travis responded with full force, pummeling him with punches so fast that Victor fell backward, thudding onto the mat.

  Travis punched him all the way down, locking him between his knees. Just before the submission could be called, the first-round bell dinged. The ref stepped forward to pull them off each other.

  No winner in the first round, but Travis had been so close, he could taste it.

  Chapter 18

  Amara shrieked for the hundredth time in fifteen minutes, wiping away another tear. This goddamn MMA event was infinitely more gripping and emotional than she’d bargained for, and something about seeing Travis in his finest form, the pinnacle of a trained professional, made Amara want to sob and cling to him and beg for forgiveness.

  “Attaboy, Holt!” Eddie rose from his seat, pumping his fist into the air. “Take him down!”

  The second round was equally as fast-paced and tense as the first round. The scary guy from the Bronx was on a warpath, but Travis only laughed and toyed with him like he couldn’t care less. All around them, fans hollered and chanted. She’d never heard the word “Holt” uttered by so many strangers’ lips at once.

  As the cheers swelled with Travis’s success, so did Amara’s tears. What is with you? “Go, Travis!” Her voice came out strained and weak, immediately lost in the decibels. Only four rows back from the ring, she had a perfect view of every flinch and flex on Travis’s body. As well as the hearty sampling of celebrities populating these few rows of the best seats, including Robert Downey Jr. and Demi Lovato.

  The MMA art was fascinating. Hell if she’d last two seconds in that ring. Even though it was predicated on violence, the artfulness of the movement was what drew her in. The way Travis responded and flowed, his immediate reactions, his expert guesses and lunges.

  “He’s so fucking good,” Amara said, sipping at her beer. Good didn’t even cover it. The man was a legend.

  “That’s my Hoooolty!” Eddie grimaced as Victor thumped Travis—a tense grapple emerged between the two, Travis’s powerful thighs straining to escape the hold. Amara didn’t breathe until he escaped, and then she slumped against the seat, completely spent.

  Punches flew, one of which landed square on Victor’s face. He stumbled backward, and Travis attacked. Amara gripped at the armrests, wincing. Travis cornered Victor and pummeled him, punches ringing like a video game from so near. Just before victory was declared, the bell rang. Round two was over.

  “Jesus!” Eddie sank into the seat, shaking his head angrily. “He’s so fucking close. Take him, Holt!”

  Amara bit her nails, watching as Travis retreated to the sidelines where Lex and another man stood, shouting things at him. Lex trickled some water into his mouth and rubbed at his shoulders. On the opposite end, Victor’s team rubbed something on his face, maybe to help the swelling of those punches.

  “I can’t take this,” Amara wailed, clutching at Eddie’s arm. “He has to win. He has to!”

  “He’s gonna fucking win,” Eddie assured her, patting her hand. “It’s Holt. He always wins.”

  Amara’s belly knotted, and tears pressed at her throat. She hadn’t bargained for such an emotional investment. That this fight could mean so much. She sipped at her beer again, eager to quench the tightness of anxiety. Jesus, could three five-minute rounds take forever?

  The bell rang again, and Travis sauntered forward, looking considerably more put together than Victor, whose face was ragged and swelling. Victor lunged forward, swinging wildly at Travis’s head. He dodged the first blow, but then one landed. Amara screamed, digging her nails into Eddie’s arm. The referee whistled and jumped toward the pair, pulling Victor away.

  “No back-of-the-head blows,” the ref shouted sternly at Victor. “First warning.”

  Travis tilted his neck back and forth, a snide smile on his face. Amara’s heart swelled. That’s my Travis. Let it roll off, babe. “Come on, Travis!” The ferocity of her shout surprised even her.

  Travis and Victor circled each other for a moment. Then Travis lunged forward, toppling Victor. The pair rolled a few times, until Travis locked his knees around Victor’s ribs and pressed his forearm to his chest. Victor struggled lamely beneath him, almost totally immobilized. Amara’s breath caught in her throat, and she rose to her feet, too afraid to blink and miss even a millisecond.

  Travis held steady. The crowd roared around them while the referee approached slowly, holding up fingers as he counted. With five fingers up, he sliced his hands through the air. “Submission!”

  Amara blinked dumbly as the announcer’s voice boomed excitedly through the arena. “Our new middleweight champion, Traaaavis Heavy Holt!” Tears pricked in her eyes, and she held the sides of her face, awestruck, as Travis hopped around the octagon, stoking the crowd’s fervor. Then he climbed up the side of the cage, perching at the top, lifting his hands into the air.

  Eddie was a mess beside her, screaming himself raw and pumping his fists into the air. Amara jumped and waved, like maybe he would see her. His eyes scanned the crowd as he showboated, biceps bulging, body covered in a sheen of sweat. He hopped down after drinking in the cheers and adoration, sauntering over to the announcer, who held out the microphone for him.

  “I wanna thank my fans,” Travis’s sexy tenor began, his voice husky and a little breathless. “I do this shit for you guys.” The roar of the crowd turned into a walloping wall of noise. “I need to thank Brute and Lex, my main men, my mom, my best buds, and”—he swallowed, looking away, smiling into the audience—“and I want you guys to know that every cent I earned tonight I’m giving away.”

  Amara’s mouth fell open, tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “I’ll be donating these earnings to Kid Power, an antibullying self-defense foundation that helps kids learn how to be strong and smart.”

  Hoots and hollers rang through the arena. Amara looked around in wonder, seeing smiles everywhere. She looked at Eddie, who winked at her.

  Travis handed off the microphone and circled the cage a few more times, prompting cheers and cries. Eddie leaned back into his seat, rubbing his face, then looked over at her with an arched brow.

  “Mar, why you cryin’?”

  She sniffed, wiping away more of the spilled tears. Who cried at an MMA event? “I’m so proud of him.” She stilled her tongue before adding more. And I love him.

  “Me too.” Eddie smiled over at her, squeezing her shoulder. “We should celebrate now. Let’s go give the man the party he deserves.”

  * * *

  Travis basked in the quiet of the sponsor’s car. He leaned against the leather backseat, eyes closed, relishing the muted sounds of traffic postfight.

  He’d won. He fucking did it.

  Pride surged through him for the millionth time since that third-round submission. Holt was back, and there was no question about it. Fighting clean and hard. He balled his fists, feeling so light that he could float away. This was the peak. Where he could look down on his accomplishments, his sacrifices, all his lessons and tribulations, and just revel.

  The sponsor’s car would take him from the arena to his next stop, a bar that Eddie had texted him about fifteen minutes after the win. The tradition was always the same: no plans until the win, and then his best buds would arrange the details, simply telling him where to show.

  His mind wandered invariably to Amara. Had she seen the fight? Had she even been there? What would she think? The fear of a lukewarm reaction to the pinnacle of his career haunted him. He wanted to share this joy with her as much as he did with his buddies.
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  The car pulled into the packed parking lot of a brightly lit bar with a patio. Travis pushed out of the backseat, thanking the driver, and then strode toward the front door, keeping the hood of his sweatshirt low on his forehead.

  His hand stilled over the door handle. He never knew what to expect at these things. A tremor of anticipation raced through him, and he pulled the door open, a whoosh of noise greeting him. As soon as he stepped foot inside, a cheer filled the bar. Hundreds of unknown faces beamed at him, drinks and beer bottles raised in the air.

  “He’s here!”

  “Holt, Holt, Holt!”

  Travis grinned, lowering his hood as Eddie, Lex, Jake, and Geo raced forward, crowding around him, pushing and tugging at him. The rest of the bar pressed closer to see the celebrity. They pushed him toward the bar, and a line of people filed past, squeezing his shoulders, congratulating him, babbling about his skills.

  Travis had a permagrin, completely inundated by the attention. He leaned against the bar, waving as more people came. Eddie shouted a drink order to the bartender, who responded the first one was on the house for the newest MMA champ. Eddie cackled, tousling Travis’s hair. “You hear that? All these dudes are your fans, bro! When you win, you really win!”

  Travis downed the shot that was offered to him, grimacing against the bitter taste. More claps on his shoulders from strangers and miscellaneous congratulations. Once the crowd around him thinned a bit, he stretched and turned, gaze landing on a sultry set of eyes.

  He grinned as Amara dashed toward him, leaping into his arms. She laughed wildly in his embrace, hooking her legs around him. He looked up at her in wonder, her lush ass filling his hands, too amazed to even speak. Relief stormed him.

  Amara looked down at him, tears in her eyes.

  “You are so fucking incredible!” Her voice sounded raw, like it came from the actual depths of her soul. “Do you understand this? Can you even fathom how incredibly amazing you are?”

  He laughed, emotion tightening his chest. Her adoration was all the proof he needed: there was no lukewarm reaction coming from this one. “Come on, babe.”

  She sniffed. Tears clouded her eyes. “I will be congratulating you on that fight for the entire next year.”

  “You went?”

  “Of course I went! I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” She wiggled out of his embrace, and he slid her to the floor. She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his hoodie. “You are a superstar.”

  He smiled so wide, he thought his face would crack open. He ran a hand through her hair, wishing this moment could never end. “Well, I feel the same about you. I can’t believe I got you to come to your first MMA fight.”

  She grinned up at him. “Only for you. I enjoyed it way too much. I thought I’d lose my shit, to be honest. It was so tense and emotional.”

  Her words were like music to his ears. He stroked her silky hair. The pieces had fallen exactly into place. “It’s amazing to watch, isn’t it? I’m glad I could share it with you finally. Now you see.”

  She nodded. “I do. But I see what you do. And I love what you do, Travis. I respect you so much. Giving away all your money to charity doesn’t hurt.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, there’s this lady in my life who opened my eyes. I could be doing more, so I’m gonna.”

  She shook her head. “I was an idiot to think that I could ever leave you, that I could walk away from this.” Her eyes filled with tenderness. “Please forgive me. I know what I want, Travis. I just want to be with you. Please tell me you still feel the same way.”

  His heart cracked in two. Like feeling differently had ever been an option for him. He cupped her face in his hands and smashed his lips against hers, coaxing a needy, sloppy kiss from her.

  They kissed so long that Eddie groaned from somewhere nearby. He caught him say, “Jesus, would you look at that?”

  Travis broke the kiss, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, searching out her gaze. “I love you, Amara. I want to be with you as long as I can.” With her at his side, he felt invincible. Complete. Like he could take the world on and then some; accomplish more than what he ever could by himself.

  Her eyes welled up, and she smiled. “Oh, is that all?”

  He laughed, pressing his forehead to hers. She was the perfect girl for him. Perfect in ways that continued to reveal themselves. “Yeah, just that.”

  A tear spilled, and she wiped it away. “I love you too, Travis. I’m yours.” She pressed her lips to his, coaxing a desperate yet tender kiss. “As long as you’ll have me.”

  Emotion swelled inside his chest. “Looks like it’s for the long haul, then.” He grinned, rubbing his nose against hers. “Because I want you forever, babe.”

  Author Note

  This book was originally published with Loose Id in Fall 2017. Their belief in this story helped push me to the next level of my career. I wouldn’t be where I am now without that brief but potent stint as a Loose Id author.

  And thank you to Jill Smith, for being my eternal best friend and author support system; to my beta readers, who helped shape this book immeasurably; and to all the bloggers and readers who have taken the time to read and review this book. It means the world to me.

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  Next in the Breaking Series…

  CHANGING THE GAME

  Lex is no longer a halfcocked hellion.

  But the darkness is still inside him. He’s always known Lila was the one for him, but when that darkness led him down back alleys to drugs, dosing, and illegal fights, she did the only sane thing: walked out. Five years later, fate brings Lila back into his life. Lex is ready to prove he’s not the same guy—he’s clean, sober, successful. The darkness is little more than a memory. He thinks.

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  While he’s busy proving himself, Lex’s past comes pounding on his door. The gang he used to fight for wants him back. And this time, they won’t take no for an answer.

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