Free UNDYING: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (Midwest Alphas) (Book 3) by Tabatha Kiss Page B

fingers around his. “I looked into his eyes today and I saw who he really is… He cannot beat you , Tobias. He’s been running from you for six months because he knows that. I think the fact that he felt he had to frame you for murder proves it even more...”
    “And if he wins?” His fingers twitch in mine. “You’ll leave with him?”
    “He won’t.”
    “But if he does …”
    “Then…” I take a breath. “Then the Alphas will be gone and you won’t have to be so exhausted anymore.”
    “I can’t let him take you. That’s not okay.”
    “I’ll be fine.” My chest trembles. “I refuse to picture a scenario here that doesn’t end with me finding my way back to you and this place.” He finds my eyes again. “This is my home, Tobias, and I will fight to keep it. All I ask is that you do the same.”
    A short smile touches his lips. “I will. Of course I will.”
    “And when you win… you and I will continue that conversation from the motel yesterday morning.”
    He smiles even more. “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”
    “Never.” I squeeze his fingers. “We both want the same things, Tobias. Don’t let him take that from us. Not when we’re so close to finally getting the life we deserve…”
    He pulls me closer and I turn to lay back against his chest. His body heat blends with mine, warming me all the way to the core. “I will beat him.” His breath tickles my lobes.
    “Promise me...”
    His cold lips touch my cheek. “I promise.”
    “Promise me again.”
    He twitches with laughter. “I promise , Claire.” He wraps his arms even tighter around me. “I will win this fight and we will start over.”
    I crane my neck to look at him, admiring his perfect features before I close my eyes and he blesses my lips with his.

Chapter 8
    Justice For Mary
     
    I stare out the window of Pike’s gym. The street outside is far worse off than it was six months ago when I was last here. Crumpled up garbage lines the street corners and sewer grates, and I’m fairly certain the sticky, blackish stain in the parking lot is blood. Rick was right. The cops haven’t come around here in quite some time and the locals know it.
    Even the inside of Pike’s gym, The Bulging Bicep, looks different. A thin layer of dust coats the black television screens. The air is stale and cold and there’s a sign on the window, hanging by a single piece of old tape: Closed until further notice.
    I take a step away from the window as the winter air bleeds inside to touch my arms. I rub my hands together, but the chill doesn’t go away.
    This is the last place I saw Lillian Tombs alive.
    Tobias and Ryan stand outside the boxing ring near the back, warming up with a few swings at the thick punching bags in the corner, while Amy sits on a bench nearby. She taps her fingers against her phone’s screen, gliding through texts and news feeds, desperately trying not to make it too obvious she’s watching Ryan.
    The drive up to St. Louis this morning was far more awkward than the drive home yesterday. It’s pretty clear that she and Ryan didn’t make up last night, but I won’t get a chance to talk to her about it until later.
    Pike walks into the main room from the manager’s office and reaches out to flick on a second light switch, illuminating another row of ceiling lights to fill the dark spaces of the room. He carries a roll of white hand wrap with him that he carefully rolls around his knuckles in preparation.
    “When did you shut down?” I ask him as I run a finger across a dusty wrack of free weights.
    “Few months ago,” he answers. “Didn’t really have time to focus on the business once all this started happening.”
    “What about your other business?”
    His eyes peek down at me. “The little, plastic baggy business?”
    “Yeah, that one.”
    “I gave that up a long time ago.”
    “Really?”
    He scoffs. “Your boy Rick was just as disappointed.”
    “I’m not disappointed,” I say.