Chapter One
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
Daryk Nyght scowled as he looked around the Fight Hard gym. He’d just arrived in Breakers after a long drive, and the last thing he wanted was to be somewhere he was surrounded by people…even if half of those people were scantily dressed women.
God, something had to be seriously wrong with him.
Despite the view, he couldn’t help feeling irritated by the barrage of noise coming from all around him. Daryk—or Dare as he preferred to be called—had expected the general noise of a working gym. The grunts and sounds of boxing gloves meeting flesh coming from the sparring rings didn’t faze him. No, what had him mentally cursing was the cheerful sound of feminine voices drifting over from the far side of the room.
Good Christ, were those women giggling?
Hitching the strap of his backpack further up on his shoulder, Dare stalked toward the mountain of a man with a shaved head who was watching the group of women. The giant stood like a sentinel at the edge of the mats with his hands braced on his hips. Coming to a stop next to him, Dare continued to frown at the sight on the mats.
“If you tell me you put in a spa, I’m fucking leaving.”
The man turned and a wide grin spread across his face. “Nyght!”
Dare tried to brace himself, but still had to grimace as Jared “Hammer” Caufield wrapped his massive arms around him and squeezed the breath right out of his lungs. At six foot two, Dare was a big man, but Hammer easily had a few inches on him, and also a good thirty pounds in muscle mass.
Even with his piss poor mood, Dare was glad to see his friend. He and Hammer had met while they were stationed at the same army base in Iraq, and had become good friends. Dare had been a trauma surgeon, while Hammer had been in the Rangers. When Hammer left the Army to begin his career as an MMA fighter, Dare’s life had taken a far different path.
A far more dark and dangerous path.
Hammer pulled back, taking a good look at his friend and frowned at what he saw. Instead of the buzz cut they used to have in common, Dare’s black hair had grown out into a dark array of shaggy locks. With several days beard growth, and wearing a beat-to-shit black leather jacket with a pair of worn jeans, Dare almost looked like a hard-ass, dangerous biker…or some sort of wild animal. But what really showed Hammer the change in his friend was the hard gleam in Nyght’s dark-grey eyes that hadn’t been there last time they’d seen each other. It was the lethal look that soldiers developed who had seen too much hard shit…who had done too much. Hammer knew because he had often seen that look in his own eyes, before he’d found peace.
“Damn good to see you, bro.”
“Back atcha.” Dare looked around the large gym and had to grin. “You did a good job with this place. Last time I was here it was nothing but a big pile of shit.”
Hammer laughed. “I remember. We’d just torn down that old warehouse and I was wearing that stupid brace on my knee.”
“Looks like you’ve completely recovered.”
“I have. Damn, Dare. It really is good to see you. I’d introduce you to my fiancée, Kali, but Sam might kill me if I interrupt them in the middle of class.”
“That’s the physical therapist that kicked your ass back in gear after your surgery, right?” Both men turned back to watch the women on the mats. Dare glanced at the stacked woman with light-brown hair running the class that he’d met after Hammer’s surgery. He knew that Sam used to be a fighter pilot in the Air Force until she was shot down on a mission. She must be a pretty tough woman to have made it out of enemy territory alone and injured. Unable to fly anymore, she’d gone on to become a physical therapist, using her military training to beat people back into shape.
“Yep. I figured if she could scare the crap out of me, she’d be able to run the rehab center upstairs no problem.”
“She was a good choice then.” Dare paused, then shot a glance over at Hammer. “I have to ask…when did you start holding chick classes here?”
The big former MMA fighter scowled and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Don’t even start that shit.” He lowered his voice so no one else would hear. “You know they actually call this class girl fight?”
“Christ.”
“I know,” Hammer sighed. “We started holding the class on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I originally did it for Kali and a few of her friends, but more women just kept signing up. We have over twenty in the class now, off and on. It’s good for business, and more men seem to plan their workout schedules around the women’s classes.”