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Fighting to Win: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Rocky River Fighters Book 4) by Grace Brennan (4)


 

 

SATURDAY NIGHT. FIGHT NIGHT. IAN WAS READY, pumped to take some of his frustration out on an opponent. He glanced at his crew. They all deserved to get the shit kicked out of them tonight. Maybe they hadn’t done anything in the last few days to deserve it, but there was a fairly long backlist of reasons why they each needed a beat down. And tonight he was in the mood to deliver just that to one of his friends.

They were all here tonight. Cammie and Alex as spectators, and Ian, Seth, and Jax fighting. Even Kian was here, somewhere. Seth and Jax stopped to kiss their mates, Amelia and Piper, good luck before the fight. Just barely managing to keep from rolling his eyes, Ian left them with Cammie and Alex, heading to the back where the stalls were. He’d helped, in some small way, when each of his fighters found their mates. He wanted them all to be happy, and jackasses or not, they each deserved it. But that didn’t mean he wanted to see them making out all hours of the day. Which they did. Constantly.

The fighters got ready and warmed up in the old horse stalls. They were spacious, and the only things in them were speed bags and benches. Dropping his bag on the bench, he pulled his clothes off, quickly changing into his fighting shorts. He’d just begun his stretches when a knock came on the door. He waved Kian inside.

“Hey, man. Good to see you.”

“Same,” Kian replied. “Do you know the lineup for tonight yet?”

“No, but it’s early. I’m sure we’ll be told soon,” he said. Watching as Kian nodded and looked around the stall, avoiding his eyes, he felt a frown forming. “What’s going on, Kian? You’re acting different.”

Kian finally met his eyes, lips quirking. “It is hard to hide anything from you, friend. There’s something bothering me. I feel restless and uneasy lately, but I can’t pinpoint why.”

“Is everything okay at home?” Ian asked.

Kian was a part of the War Cats. The prince of the tribe. His bloodline was the purest of any shifter Ian knew of, and he was destined to become alpha one day. The War Cats were where Ian met Farrah, and they were the tribe Shelby was born into. And he hated them with a fiery passion for the way they’d treated his daughter. As if she were beneath them, mocking and ridiculing her every day. Her own mother included.

The exception to that was standing in front of him. Kian was different than any of the other tigers Ian had met, War Cats or not. And far removed from how a prince would act, though he still had some of that rigid formality. Kian had a soft spot for Shelby, and came to Eagle Creek to spend some time with her. That had been months ago, and yet the prince was still here. Ian wondered if there was a reason behind the extended stay that went beyond spending time with Shelby.

“I wouldn’t know,” Kian replied, bringing Ian back to the conversation. “I do not speak to those at home.”

Curiosity burned through Ian, but he wouldn’t pry. If Kian wanted him to know, he’d tell him.

“What about Zane? Have you heard from him?”

Spine going ramrod straight, Kian’s frown deepened. “No, I have not. I don’t know why he didn’t stay with the War Cats when I ordered him home. But it has been months since then, and he hasn’t caused trouble. Despite his proximity to Eagle Creek, I do not believe he means anyone here harm.”

Ian frowned as he thought of Zane. Second in line to be alpha of the War Cats, Zane had been raised to believe he was superior to everyone, and he showed how much he believed just that with his every word and action. He’d finally gone too far a few months ago with Amelia, Seth’s mate. Kian had ordered him home, despite the rules of his tribe. Kian was never to be alone. But he ditched that rule in favor of sending Zane home, likely to avoid one of the Rocky River fighters killing him when he went too far.

Only he hadn’t stayed home. Disobeying a direct order from his prince, Zane left the War Cats and was headed back in this direction. Cammie’s mate, Alex, was a skilled hacker, and was tracking Zane’s credit card activity. He’d been circling Eagle Creek, never staying in one place long, and rarely going back once he left wherever he stopped.

It made Ian uneasy, despite Kian’s insistence that Zane wasn’t going to cause trouble. Part of Ian’s shifter gift was being able to tell if people were good or bad, and Zane was toeing the line between the two. While Ian never told anyone that, he made sure his fighters were on guard and watching the tiger shifter. Maybe he should have told the truth to his crew, and to Kian, but he wouldn’t accuse Zane of being one of the bad guys when he wasn’t quite there yet.

But it wouldn’t take much for him to go there. The slightest breeze could be enough to knock Zane into either good or bad territory. And the fact that he disobeyed a direct order from his prince made Ian believe that he might have already stepped into bad territory.

He was just opening his mouth to come clean to Kian when Jax walked in, looking grim. “There are new shifters here. Five of them walked in about a minute ago. They told us they wanted to fight, and it was the truth, but I still don’t like it.”

Ian left the stall, coming to a stop in the hallway as the shifters headed to the back. They were all huge, muscled up and imposing, wearing jeans and leather jackets. He opened his senses, using his shifter gift. Relaxing a fraction when he didn’t get a bad vibe from them, he searched for their animals.

The other half of his shifter gift, that not many knew about, was he could sense what kind of animal shifters had. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to identify them right away. When Alex showed up, it took Ian a full day to sense he was a dragon, and sometimes it took longer. But these shifters animals’ came to him right away.

A grizzly, two lions, some sort of flight shifter, and—something else. Ian focused on the shifter to his right, but he got the same reading. He sensed a flight shifter and a mammal, in equal measure. That couldn’t be right. Unless he had mixed parentage. That had to be it, but Ian had met quite a few mixed breed shifters, and he never felt both sides. Only the animal the shifter was born with.

“You’re Ian?” the grizzly shifter in front of him asked as they came to a stop.

“I am. I heard you guys want to fight tonight. We don’t normally get outside shifters in this little town.”

The man shrugged. “We’re not here to cause trouble. We heard about the fights and thought we’d come check them out. We’ve heard about how good you and your crew are, so we wanted to give it a go, see if we could maybe beat the shifters everyone says are unbeatable.”

Ian relaxed as the truth in the grizzly’s voice washed over him. “I don’t know about that. I’m sure you all have a good shot. This is Jax, Seth, and Kian. We’re all fighting tonight,” he said, gesturing to each in turn. “And over there are Cammie and Alex, who are just watching tonight.”

“Good to meet y’all. I’m Blake. This is Luke, Noah, Liam, Dmitri, and Damara.”

Ian searched for the sixth person, not noticing her until she stepped out from behind the men. She was by no means short, but the men were all tall, blocking her from view. And she was giving off the same vibes as Dmitri—equal parts flight shifter and mammal. As they all exchanged greetings, he ran his eyes over them again, committing names and animals to his memory.

Blake was the grizzly, Luke and Noah the lions, Liam the flight shifter, and Dmitri and Damara—still unknown. It made him uneasy, but Blake was telling the truth when he said they weren’t there to cause trouble, just wanting to pit their skills against Rocky River’s fighters.

“Is Damara fighting, or just you men?” Seth asked, bringing Ian back to the conversation.

“Nah, she just came along to watch.” Blake was either the leader of their crew, or just the spokesperson.

“You’re welcome to sit with me and Alex,” Cammie offered to Damara. “Amelia and Piper will be sitting with us, as well.”

“I’d like that,” Damara replied, her words accented.

Damara turned to walk out with Cammie and Alex. Ian watched her leave as he tried to place her accent, but he was unsuccessful.

“She’s Greek,” Blake said. Ian glanced at him in surprise and Blake laughed. “I could tell you were trying to figure it out. She and Dmitri are both from Greece. They’re brother and sister.”

Greg walked into the hallway. He was one of Amelia’s employees at the Anderson ranch, and he had the fighters’ matches and orders ready. Eager to get out there and test his skills against Luke, Ian went back to warming up.

He loved fighting, and he never cared that he fought the same set of people week after week. As long as he got to fight, he was fine. But he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to fighting someone new, and he hoped these new shifters stuck around for longer than tonight. He’d love the chance to fight each of them.

 

 

 

 

HOLLY CREPT, AS MUCH AS SHE WAS ABLE, into the Anderson’s barn. Cursing the need for her cane today, she found a shadowed patch against the wall and settled in to watch.

Part of her was filled with trepidation. She didn’t know what to expect tonight, and she couldn’t figure out why she was here to begin with. She didn’t even like fighting. But her curiosity had gotten the better of her earlier, and she came to see what all the fuss was about.

The other part of her was excited. She hadn’t expected that, and she’d been denying it for the last two hours. It had nothing to do with the fights themselves, and everything to do with the hot, tatted up dad of her favorite student.

Freezing as the thought drifted through her mind, she squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a shake. No. She didn’t care how good-looking Ian Gallagher was. She couldn’t. It wasn’t right to lust after her student’s father. But more than that was the pit in her stomach, telling her this was wrong. She was betraying Kyle’s memory by being so interested in another man.

Kyle would want her to be happy. Holly knew that. But emotions trumped logic when it came to this sort of thing. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go there with another man. She would forever be comparing him with Kyle, and she knew he would never measure up to her love. That wasn’t fair to anyone new, and it wasn’t fair to her, either.

Kyle’s death left a huge, gaping hole in her heart that would never heal, and another loss would cripple her in ways she didn’t think she’d be able to come back from. She’d barely managed to fight her way back to the land of the living after Kyle. There had been a few times when she didn’t think she’d ever be able to function as a human being again.

No, she couldn’t go there with Ian. So what in the world was she even doing here?

A gasp from the crowd drew her attention to the ring, where two men were pummeling the crap out of each other. Her stomach turned as the big man in the ring punched the other so hard, blood poured down his cheek. The other man staggered back for a second before throwing his own hit, just as punishing as the one he’d taken.

She covered her eyes, stomach queasy. She couldn’t believe that people actually liked watching this, but looking around, it was clear they did. Sometimes she didn’t understand her fellow man. How they could take pleasure in watching two people hurt each other and do their level best to kill each other, she’d never understand.

A sickening thud sounded from the ring, and that was her cue to go. Coming here had been a mistake, in all ways except one. It had never been clearer to her that even if she were looking for someone new to date and fall in love with, it couldn’t be Ian. They were far too different, far too apart in their world views. Watching thirty seconds of this fight was enough to make that glaringly obvious. So maybe she could put this silliness behind her now and forget about him.

Finally walking outside, she took a deep breath of the chilly night air, the queasiness fading now that she was away from the fighting. Gripping her cane tightly, she began slowly walking back to her car. She had to be careful not to step into a hole and throw herself off balance.

“Holly!”

Freezing at the sound of her name in the deep, gravelly voice she already knew as well as her own, she tried to compose herself before turning around. Damn having to walk so slow. She could have been back in her car and out of here by now if her leg was healthy.

She forced a smile. “Mr. Gallagher.”

Anything else she might have said, as well as every thought in her head, flew right out the window as her eyes landed on him. Mouth instantly drying, she swallowed painfully as she ran her eyes up and down his tall frame.

All he had on was a pair of shorts. That’s it. Even his feet were bare. His hair was slicked back from his face, emphasizing the angles, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right now. Her attention was on the rest of his body. He was so huge when he was covered up that she hadn’t thought it was possible for him to look any bigger. She was wrong. Oh Lord, was she wrong, and in the best possible way.

And now her mouth was literally watering. From dry as the Sahara Desert to Niagara Falls in the space of a heartbeat. His shoulders were wide and thick, and she followed them over to his collarbone, where he had a word she couldn’t read from this distance inked onto his skin. Her eyes drifted down to his pecs and then slid to his abs, chiseled and standing in stark relief. He had a V of muscle on his hips, pointing to an area she forced herself not to look at. It was a hard-fought battle, but she just barely managed to keep her eyes from going there. His thighs were rock hard, leading to calves that were also well muscled.

Eyes sliding back up his body, she counted tattoos. One on his leg and thigh, three more on his side, more still on his arms. By the time she looked at his face again, she gave up trying to count them all. Meeting his eyes, she flushed as she saw they were dancing in amusement. Trying not to look like she was bothered, she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“This is probably the last place I’d expect to see you.” He took a few steps closer. “From the way you talked the other day, I thought you didn’t care for fighting.”

“I don’t, but I got curious and wanted to see one for myself.”

“You didn’t stay long. I didn’t see you when I arrived, and here you are, already leaving.” He was so close.

Resisting the urge to back up, she cleared her throat. “Yeah, well. I might not have seen much, but what I did see was more than enough. This kind of thing isn’t for me.”

“It’s not for everyone,” he acknowledged. “But you should stay a little longer, watch me fight. I’m up next after Seth and Noah.”

“That’s okay. I’m ready to head back home, but, uh—good luck.” As much as she hated fighting, she had a sinking suspicion that watching Ian would do the exact opposite of turning her off. So much for the hope that knowing he enjoyed the kind of fighting she saw inside would end this crazy attraction.

Of course, that was before she got an eyeful of him in nothing but the black shorts he was wearing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay, Holly?” he asked, blue eyes intense.

Shivering as his voice caressed her nerve endings, it took her a moment to realize he called her by her given name. Come to think of it, he had when he first called out to her, too. She wanted to be upset at his use of her first name, but all she could hear was his deep baritone wrapping around the syllables in her name in a loop in her mind, and goosebumps coated her skin. Forget upset. She’d just enjoy a bit of indifference right now, because she didn’t need another reason to feel attraction for this man.

And the way he said her name was definitely a checkmark in the attraction column. She just had to do her best not to let him become aware of it.

“Holly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’re on a first name basis now?”

He cleared his throat, and she watched in fascination as he shuffled his feet. “It was on Shelby’s school paperwork. The name stuck.”

“It might be best if you keep calling me Ms. White. Since I’m Shelby’s teacher and all. That way we don’t cross any lines.”

Eyes narrowing, he studied her and then nodded shortly. “If that’s what you want. But if you’re Ms. White, why do the students call you Mrs.?”

“It is what I want. And because I was known as Mrs. White to my students before my husband passed away. I didn’t want to change it mid-year and cause confusion with my students, and then after that school year was over, I just left it as it was. Speaking of Shelby, did you talk to her about the dance?”

“I did. She wants to go, so we will. But I can’t make promises about dancing.”

“I’m sure she’d just be happy you tried.” Holly grinned at the image of this huge man dancing with his dainty daughter. But the amusement quickly faded and warmth took its place as the moment between father and daughter took place in her mind. Uncomfortable, she cleared her throat and looked away.

“Ian,” a voice called from the doorway. They looked toward the tiny woman speaking. “You’re up soon. You should probably get back in.”

Giving her a nod, Ian turned back to Holly, gracing her a with charming smile. “I’ll see you soon, Mrs. White.”

Even the more formal version of her name sounded like sin when it fell from his lips. A shiver danced up her spine as she walked him walk back into the barn. She paused as the woman walked toward her instead of following Ian back inside. As she got closer, Holly noticed she was pregnant, and a pang of envy pierced her heart. Forcing her eyes back to the woman’s face, she waited as she came to a stop in front of her.

“So you’re Holly. I’m Cammie. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

Eyebrows raising, she replied, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Shelby thinks very highly of you. She talks about you all the time.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I think highly of her too.” She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed that it was Shelby, and not Ian, who’d been talking about her.

Giving her a look that made it clear she saw straight through her, Cammie said, “Ian, too. I’ve heard him mention you.”

“Oh?” She tried to sound like it was no big deal.

Cammie nodded and then dropped the subject, leaving Holly yearning to know how Ian spoke about her.

“You’re not coming back in? Ian’s up next, and he always puts on a good fight.”

Holly shook her head. “This isn’t really my thing, so I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Really?” Cammie asked. “They’re a lot of fun.”

“You enjoy watching fights?”

“Watching, participating, training. I enjoy it all.”

“You fight?” Holly tried to imagine a tiny woman like Cammie fighting, but the image wasn’t forming very well.

“Oh yeah.” Cammie laughed. Rubbing her belly, she said, “I can’t right now, for obvious reasons, but I’m itching to get back to it.”

“But you’re so…” she said, gesturing at Cammie, finally trailing off. “Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt?”

“Nope. I know you probably think I’m too small, but I’m good at what I do. I can even beat Ian and the other guys when I want to.” A loud cheer went up in the barn, and Cammie glanced over her shoulder before looking back at Holly. “Sounds like Ian just got announced. I better get in there. Are you sure you don’t want to come back in?”

“I’m sure. You have fun, though.”

“Oh, I will. See you later!”

Cammie trotted back into the barn, moving faster than a pregnant woman should be able to. Holly headed to her car and pulled onto the dirt lane that led to the highway. She tried to clear her thoughts of everything she’d seen tonight, but she couldn’t.

As much as she was sure she’d think of nothing but Ian’s mouthwatering body all night long, he was the last thing on her mind right now. He was completely overshadowed by seeing Cammie’s pregnant belly tonight, and the feelings coursing through Holly were still potent and overwhelming, as familiar as they were.

As she drove, she gave up trying to bank her feelings, instead, trying to untangle and sort them as best she could, to acknowledge them and then lock them away again. But she still hadn’t managed to put a dent in dealing with them by the time she pulled up at her apartment. Leg aching, she leaned heavily on her cane as she limped to her door. Unlocking it, she flipped on the lights and tossed her purse and keys on the table before making her way to the couch, sinking down with a sigh.

She wondered when seeing a pregnant woman would stop hitting her like a punch to the gut. She’d been hopeful that she’d finally dealt with her emotions, but seeing Cammie made it clear she hadn’t yet. And it was probably naïve to think she ever would.

Kneading the painful knot in the thigh of her bad leg, she tipped her head back, resting it on the sofa. The memories were hitting her hard and fast now, and she didn’t fight them. Fighting them did no good, and only made it worse when they crept past the walls she’d throw up to protect herself. So she let them wash over her.

After she and Kyle married, they hadn’t tried for a baby. But they’d decided against using any birth control, figuring they’d let nature take its course and fate decide. She wasn’t too worried about it at first. She was still in college. But as the years passed, she became concerned when she never conceived.

At a routine checkup, she mentioned it in passing to her gynecologist, not really expecting anything to come of it. She and Kyle weren’t actively trying, after all, and maybe their timing just hadn’t worked out. What followed was a flurry of questions and tests, followed by a diagnosis. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS.

It was something she’d only ever heard about in passing. She knew nothing about it, and while the doctor did her best to reassure Holly that it didn’t mean she’d never have a baby, only that it might make it difficult to conceive, it didn’t lessen the panic or the sick knot in her gut. She researched endlessly after that, needing to know everything she could about PCOS.

What she found surprised her, given how little she’d heard of it before being diagnosed with it. PCOS affected one in ten women, and could lead to a whole host of other issues, along with infertility. The good news for Holly had been that the infertility was treatable for the most part. And some of her panic began to recede at the knowledge. Being diagnosed felt like a step back, but it wasn’t the end. Children were still an option for her and Kyle.

After graduation, they began actively trying, although they didn’t immediately seek help. Some women with PCOS conceived on their own. But when a year passed and it still hadn’t happened, they finally made an appointment with a fertility specialist.

And then it happened, before they ever had a chance to see the doctor. After four years of not using protection, and one year of actively trying, Holly was pregnant. They were over the moon. Holly never before felt the kind of joy she felt when those two pink lines showed up. And at her first doctor’s appointment, when the heartbeat filled that room, she and Kyle both had tears in their eyes.

She had absolutely everything she ever wanted. A best friend, soulmate, and husband all rolled into one in Kyle, a job she loved, and now, she had a baby on the way. Life was blissful and beyond perfect. Until it wasn’t.

When she was thirteen weeks pregnant, she started cramping. She didn’t think anything of it at first, because all the books she read said a little cramping was normal, and when she called her doctor, they confirmed it. So she went to bed that night knowing it was all okay.

And then she woke up in the middle of the night, the cramps so bad they took her breath away. She rolled over to wake Kyle and felt wetness between her thighs. He rushed her to the hospital, but it was too late. She’d lost the baby.

They were inconsolable, heartbroken, and hurting. And then two days later, at only twenty-four years old, Kyle had a heart attack and died. Holly nearly went mad with grief. First her baby and then her husband, in the space of two days. For the longest time, she blamed herself. Not just for losing the baby, but for Kyle dying, as well. She thought it was the loss of their baby that caused his heart attack. If she’d done something, anything different, if she’d ignored the books and the phone call and went to the hospital when she first started cramping, if she’d just done something, Kyle wouldn’t have gone through that stress and had a heart attack.

She knew now that it wasn’t anything she’d done. Even if she hadn’t lost the baby, Kyle still would have had a heart attack. He had a rare genetic condition they didn’t know about. His father and grandfather had both died in their thirties from heart attacks, so they knew there was something there, but Kyle regularly had his heart checked. His last appointment had been just two months before that, and everything was perfect.

It took her a long time to believe that it wasn’t her fault, though, even knowing the facts. Even now, three years later, she still had moments of doubt and blame. The therapist she saw in the months following Kyle’s death assured her this was normal, but it never got any easier to deal with.

And seeing a pregnant woman brought it all back. The miscarriage, Kyle’s death, all of it. And sometimes the longing for the past was so strong, she couldn’t breathe through it.

She pushed herself off the couch and hobbled into the kitchen for a drink. That kind of thinking was dangerous, so she tried hard to stay away from it. And for the most part, she was successful. She couldn’t go back in time, and did her best to accept that Kyle was gone and would never be back.

But sometimes that longing to be a mother still crept up on her and smacked her in the face, stealing her breath. She’d dreamt of having children since she was six and playing with her dolls, long before she ever met Kyle. And while she tried to let her dream of Kyle and a happy married life go, she couldn’t let the dream of motherhood go.

But it was a dream that would never become a reality. Even if she met someone new, becoming a mother wasn’t likely to happen. It had taken so very long to become pregnant, and then she lost the baby, all fairly common side effects of PCOS. Motherhood just wasn’t meant to be for her, but she’d give all that love to her students.

The kids in her class filled some of the void. Every year, each and every one of them, from the angels to the troublemakers, felt like hers. And it was enough. It had to be.

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