Dante's Angel

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2015 Laurie Roma

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-596-5

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry
Designs

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to
all the people who love the town of Breakers as much as I do...

DANTE’S ANGEL

The Breakers’
Bad Boys, 3

Laurie Roma

Copyright © 2015

Chapter
One

Thud, thud, thud...

The impact of
Dante Fox’s gloved fists slamming against the heavy bag sounded overloud in the
empty gym. It was way past closing at the Fight Hard Gym and Rehabilitation
Center, but Dante had the key and security codes to the building for nights
like this.

Restless
nights when memories kept him awake and too on edge for sleep.

The gym had
been created out of an old, gutted warehouse in the heart of downtown Breakers.
Usually, it was well lit, with the abundance of overhead lighting, but now it
was cast in shadows. The only light in the place came from the single spotlight
near the back door that he’d turned on when he’d entered the building. Some
might have found the large, empty space unnerving, but not Dante. Right now, he
needed the quiet as he pounded his fists into the bag.

He wanted the
solitude found in the dark while he worked himself to exhaustion.

Perspiration
ran down his bare chest in streams and went unnoticed as he continued to pound
the bag. His shorts were also soaked, but he didn’t care. He’d tied a bandana
over his hair to keep the worst of the sweat from dripping onto his face, but
he still felt the sting of salt in his eyes as he pushed himself to his limits.

As a former
Army Ranger, Dante was used to training and being active, and having his
friend, Jared “Hammer” Caufield, open a gym in the center of town had been a
blessing. Dante had served with in the Army with Hammer, but their lives had
taken far different paths when they had left the service.

After the
military, Hammer had a successful career as an MMA fighter before he’d blown
his knee out and decided to open Fight Hard. He might own the place, but their
friends, Daryk Nyght and Adam Rever, also had a stake in gym. Together, the
three of them had made Fight Hard a successful business, and something they
could be proud of. Dante shot a cursory glance around the shadowed room as he
slowed his pace and felt a wave of satisfaction sweep through him when he
looked at what his friends had created.

It was a damn
good place.

A place to get
healthy and heal…and to escape to when needed.

The large
space was set up with several separate areas sectioned off for members to train
in various disciplines. There were basic weight machines and treadmills located
in the front of the building that were a standard for any gym, and a set of
tatami
judo mats used for floor work and
grappling for more advanced training. In the back were two full size boxing
rings, which were frequently used for sparring matches between the members, and
were even used to host a few local matches when Hammer felt the inclination.

Against the
back wall was the newest addition to the gym. A large rock climbing wall had
recently been installed, with two levels of hand holds. One side of the wall was
geared for more expert climbers, while the other side was for beginners. The
wall had only been finished a few days ago, and there had been a long line of
people waiting to try it out during the hours the gym was open. Despite the safety
lines and harnesses, thick padded mats had been installed at the bottom of the
wall in case anyone fell, and trainers kept diligent eyes on anyone who was
climbing in case they got in trouble.

Up above on
the second level of the building was a treatment center used for rehabilitation
for athletes, soldiers and people recovering from other serious injuries. When
the doors to Fight Hard had opened, there had been several people who had
scoffed at the idea of such a high-level facility being opened in a small town
like Breakers, but with Hammer’s reputation and connections, the place was a thriving
business.

During
business hours, Fight Hard was almost always packed with people. They had their
share of members who worked out casually, but the gym had also gained professional
athletes as clientele who traveled to Breakers during their off seasons.

In the last
few months, Hammer had started taking on a few more former professional
athletes as trainers, especially to coach and instruct teams that had expressed
interest in booking a few weeks of intense training. It was good for Fight
Hard, but more than that, it would be good for the entire town. Still, the
thought of all those people flooding into Dante’s hometown didn’t excite him as
it should have.

Actually, just
thinking about it was pretty fucking annoying at the moment.

Dante was
usually a pretty social guy, but when it came to his workouts, he tried to avoid
Fight Hard during peak hours when the nine-to-fivers got in their exercise. Sometimes
he enjoyed being part of the crowd that pushed themselves for the endorphin
high that came with a hard workout, but most of the time—like tonight—he needed
the quiet and the dark.

Sweat covered
Dante’s entire body and his muscles quivered with fatigue. He enjoyed the pain
of pushing himself to the breaking point, but knew he needed to stop soon
before he actually hurt himself. The physical activity had been a welcomed
distraction in lieu of the thoughts that plagued him, but he forced himself to
pull back and put an end to his workout.

Calling it
quits, Dante left the heavy bag swaying on the chain as he walked away to sit
on a bench that was stationed against the wall. Ignoring the sweat coating his
skin, he took off the padded gloves and began to unwind the wraps he’d used to
protect his hands. Even with the added protection, his knuckles were red from
the constant battering he’d put them through. Flexing his hands, he shook them
out, then rested his elbows on his knees as he took a moment to slow his
breathing.

No one could
ever accuse him of being a restful man, but recently the late night workouts
were getting to be a routine that had begun to worry him.

Hell, worry
was such a pussy word...it was just fucking frustrating.

Dante had been
a good soldier, but his time overseas had done something to him that he hadn’t
expected. Those years had hardened him, changing him to a point where he had
barely recognized himself when he’d come home. He’d been damn proud to serve
his country, had done what was asked of him without question, but the aftermath
of those years made it difficult to transition back to normal life.

It wasn’t that
he regretted anything he’d done. In fact, it was just the opposite of that. He
missed the action. Not that he wanted to be back in a combat situation. Hell,
no. He was done with that shit. Done with taking orders and spending countless
days sweating his balls off in the middle of nowhere while people shot at him.

But the
adrenaline rush was something that wasn’t as easy to forget.

Unlike some of
his friends, Dante rarely pulled punches, whether it be literally or
figuratively. In his opinion, too much time was wasted on trying to be nice and
worrying about what other people thought. Usually, whatever he said was done
with such casual frankness that no one really took offense. Because of that, people
generally thought he was the most laid back and easygoing out of his circle of friends,
but not lately.

No, recently
he’d been surly and short-tempered.

Hell, that was
putting it lightly. The truth was, he’d turned into a snarly bastard.

Dante had been
like that when he’d just gotten home from overseas, and he’d worked really hard
on transitioning back to “normal” once he’d returned. Mostly, it was a careful
façade that he’d put in place when dealing with others, but the reality was
that the only time he actually felt normal was when he was fighting…or fucking.

It was the
only time he felt anything real.

Empty spaces,
he thought. He had empty spaces inside of him that left him feeling hollow. He knew
what he used to fill those holes were only temporary fixes, and those patches
made the emptiness more pronounced when they faded. Some of his friends had
laughed off his statement about his need to fuck or fight when Dante had told
them how he felt, but a few knew all too well that he wasn’t joking. Not in the
least. And that’s why he’d found himself coming to the gym to pound on the bags
almost every night…like some sort of goddamn insane ritual of self-torture.

Because
fucking wasn’t an option. At least, it hadn’t been for the last several months.

Fuck it. Who
was he kidding? Dante knew exactly why he’d turned into a raging asshole
lately, and it was all because of one damn infuriatingly stubborn woman.

It was all
because of Zoe Lang.

Dante
remembered the first time Zoe had walked into his bar, The Fox Hole. It had
been the middle of the afternoon, and he’d been in a bitch of a mood as he’d
just finished struggling to input the day’s deliveries into the computer. Dante
hated office work with a passion, and he’d enjoyed escaping behind the bar for
a little while to work off the hours of horror he’d spent in his office. He’d been
manning the tap when the front door had opened, and there she’d been.

He had been
prepared for her arrival, or so he’d thought. His father had told him that he’d
promised a friend that they would give Zoe a job at the bar since she was new
to town. Dante knew that his father took favors to old friends very seriously,
but he hadn’t liked being forced into hiring someone without giving them a
proper screening.

But that had
been before he’d met her.

Dante considered
himself a connoisseur of women. There was something that could be found about
every single one of them that made each woman unique, but there had been
something extra special that made Zoe stand out from that very first moment
their eyes had locked.

When she’d
introduced herself, he’d had a crazy urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry
her off, like some sort of caveman. He remembered standing there staring at her
like he’d been mentally defective, not hearing a single word she’d said. His
blank stare had scared her, and he’d had to shake himself out of his stupor in
order to act normally.

But that
hadn’t lasted long.

Dante had
noticed all the men in the bar looking at Zoe, and that had made him
unreasonably angry. In defense, he’d herded her into his office so they could
speak privately. The interview had been more for form than anything, since he’d
already promised to hire her. They were always looking for good waitresses, and
she’d had some previous experience, but it had only take a few minutes speaking
to her for him to realize he hadn’t wanted to hire Zoe for the simple fact that
he wanted her.

Dante had a
rule when it came to his employees. He didn’t fuck around at work. That would
be a shit load of trouble he didn’t want to deal with, and he’d had to fire a
few waitresses that pushed too far instead of dealing with the hassle in the
past.

But for Zoe,
he would have broken his rule.

He still would…and
planned to at the earliest freaking opportunity.

It hadn’t
taken Dante long to see that having the Asian beauty out on the floor would be
an absolute disaster. In fact, it would have been deadly for any man who tried
to touch her. As a waitress, the women that worked at The Fox Hole wore a tight
black tank that had the name of the bar on the front, paired with a short black
skirt. Zoe acted tough, but there was an air of vulnerability that she’d been
unable to hide from him.

It had brought
out an insanely protective side of himself Dante had never even known he had.

Even though he
and his men made sure that all women were safe in the bar, Dante hadn’t been
able to stand the idea of Zoe roaming around the room with drunk men hitting on
her at every turn. Instead, he’d made her a bartender, where she would have
some semblance of protection behind the bar…and where he could personally keep
an eye on her.

It also meant
she could wear jeans with the tank top she was supposed to wear. There was a
waiting list a mile long for bartending positions, and Dante had known more
than a few people would bitch about his decision, but he hadn’t given a flying
fuck.

When he’d
informed her of his decision, Zoe had been surprised by the switch, but she’d
been game to learn and had promised to study up on drinks in order to do the
job. He’d assured her that there wasn’t much to manning the taps at The Fox
Hole. Most of the patrons tended to order beer on tap or in the bottle, but there
were a few other signature drinks that were on the menu that weren’t too
difficult to learn how to make.

Dante knew his
reaction to Zoe was unusual, but he’d written it off as attraction, and left it
at that. He’d never been good at holding himself back from something he wanted.
He was the type of man who rarely let anything get in his way when he had a
goal. But as time went on, there was something about Zoe that had alarm bells
ringing in his head. He’d hoped he would get over the feeling as soon as he got
her beneath him and moved on.