She held her breath as she watched him swing out, move to the left then right, and finally bounce on the balls of his feet. His hits could bring a man to his knees, and she had seen it on more than one occasion. Harlond McGrieve owned the back alley MMA training gym, and his daughter Sunny helped run the business. Harlond trained a lot of legit MMA fighters and ones that ran in the underground circuit. Tasha knew enough about the gym that she kept her mouth shut about what happened here, about why some of the men trained.
Having gone to high school with Sunny, they’d reconnected when they met at a coffee shop over a year ago. And here was Tasha, a year later, working at the gym, and knowing that what these men trained here for wasn’t just for the legal kind of fighting, but also the kind that was bare-knuckle and dirty.
At twenty-three years old Tasha had never really been subjected to the kind of violence these men trained for. She didn’t have a perfect life, was more rebellious than most kids her age, and had made a lot of mistakes in her life. Hell, Sunny didn’t even know why Tasha had left during her senior year, gotten her GED, and finally come back to Absinthe heavyhearted.
Tasha didn’t think anyone aside from her parents knew what happened, and that was for the best. If they knew that she’d gotten pregnant at seventeen years old, had a baby and given it up, the whole town would have probably looked at her overly religious parents as if they’d spawned a devil daughter. But it was the father of her baby that had hurt her the most. It was her senior year chemistry teacher who had seduced her, told her promises that they’d be together, and when he’d found out she was pregnant he’d resigned and moved, leaving her alone and with this huge weight on her shoulders.
She shook her head, trying to get the thoughts out of her mind because they’d do no good.
Tasha leaned against the wall and watched as he boxed with a newer, younger fighter. Despite Larson being over six feet in height, and having enough muscle mass that he looked like a tank, Tasha saw something in him that she could connect to, connect with.
She watched Larson circle Brody, the newer fighter, witnessed him take the powerful hits, but give them just as hard, and felt adrenaline pump through her body as if she were the one fighting. Brody threw a right hook, but Larson dodged it just before contact could be made.
Her heart pounded hard at the sight. Blood rushed through her veins, and she held her breath. There was something exciting and dangerous watching Larson take down a guy, throwing a punch to their face and body, and seeing blood explode outward from the violence. Tasha didn’t feel this adrenaline force when watching the other fighters. No, it was only with Larson, the man so much older than she was.
“Hello?”
The deeply masculine voice came from behind her, and she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at the man who stood on the other side of the desk.
“I’m Brandon. I was told by Harlond to come here and start my training.”
She smiled, composed herself, and pushed the thoughts of Larson out of her head. “Of course. Let me get your paperwork that will need to be filled out.” She grabbed the manila folder that all new members had to complete, handed it over to him, and smiled again. “I’ll let Harlond know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” he said and went over to the table and chairs off to the side. She stared at him as he started filling out the forms. He was a big guy, like everyone that came through the doors to train here. She didn’t know much about him aside from what Harlond had told her. He was twenty-eight years old, and had been fighting in the MMA for the last five years. His dark hair was buzzed close to his head. The gauge in his left ear was big and black, and like all the guys here he had sleeves of tattoos. The ink could also be seen through his faded t-shirt.
She looked over at the ring again, saw Larson and Brody clapping each other on the back once, then watched Larson head toward the shower room. But he stopped right before he entered, turned slowly, and for a second just stared right at her. She was frozen, unable to move as his gaze held hers. Even from the distance she could see the way his dark, almost emotionless, eyes calculated what was happening.
Did he know she was watching him, that she had been watching him? God, now she felt humiliated, so embarrassed she felt her face turn red and her body heat. She turned away quickly, sat down, and when she looked at Brandon she saw that he watched her with this knowing look on his face.
Yeah, she wished right then and there that the world would just open up and swallow her whole.
****
Larson pushed the doors open to the locker room, tossed his bag onto the bench, and tried to get his thoughts in order. He was confused, wondering what it was about the receptionist at Harlond’s that had him interested in knowing more about her. In the last decade he’d never felt more for a woman than wanting to have sex with them, use them the same way they used him for a few hours of mindless pleasure.