Shattered Past # 3
By: Cecy Robson
Releasing May 19, 2015
Loveswept
She bears the scars of the past. He blames himself for things he can’t control. Their defenses are up, but in Cecy Robson’s latest Shattered Past novel—perfect for fans of Monica Murphy and J. Lynn—true love lands a knockout punch.
Sofia Tres Santos remembers a time before her life went sour, before her innocence was ripped away, before she began punishing herself with risky behaviors and unworthy men. Now, at twenty, she just hopes she’s ready to rebuild some of what she lost. One way or another, it always comes back to her childhood friend and longtime crush, Killian O’Brien.
As strong as Killian is, Sofia has always been his one weakness. He knows Sofia has suffered and wants to ensure she’s never hurt again—not like before, and definitely not under his watch. When Sofia agrees to work at his mixed martial arts gym, Killian seizes the opportunity to help and protect the sweet girl he’s always cared for. And yet, as he trains Sofia to defend herself using his hard-hitting MMA techniques, he’s drawn to the vulnerable beauty in ways he never expected.
As Sofia grows stronger, she also grows brave enough to open herself up to love. And along the way, she challenges everything Killian believes to be true, showing him that no matter how much he dominates in the ring, the real battle is fought in the heart.
There were times in a girl’s life
when swooning was necessary, and deeply warranted. This was one of
them. I nibbled on my bottom lip, trying to suppress my deep blush
and ignore the fist-banging motion Finn did with his hands and his
very approving thumbs-up that followed.
I motioned in the direction of
Killian’s office, unable to bear the intensity in those heart-
stopping blue eyes. “Do you want us to get started?”
“Very much.” He winked. “But for
now, maybe you should start with my website.”
He pressed his hand against the small
of my back, when all I did was stand there with my jaw falling open,
and led me forward. Regardless of his massive strength, his touch was
gentle. I should have feared him even though he was taking great care
with me. He was big and powerful, and could overtake someone as weak
and thin as me. But I didn’t fear Killian.
I only feared what he could learn of
me.
I wanted him to keep his palm against
me. The gesture reassured me that maybe he did like me. Did think I
was pretty. Would want to know me as more than the girl he’d grown
up with.
I almost groaned when he let his hand
fall. If I were someone stronger, and more confident, I would have
reached to touch him or maybe flashed him a smile. But I wasn’t one
of those flirty girls who always seemed to say the right things. I
was simply me.
We moved along the edge of the gym
toward his office. The floor wasn’t padded here, so the kitten
heels of my silver sandals clip-clopped against the
concrete. I adjusted the spaghetti strap of my floral top when the
strap of my laptop case pulled it down my shoulder.
“Here, let me take that for you.”
Killian lifted the case, easing the stress of its weight from my
body. “You look beautiful,” he added quietly.
I lowered my lashes, averting my gaze.
I’d wanted to look nice for him and hoped he’d notice. So when he
did, yeah, I might have arm-flailed on the inside. But only a little,
I swear. “Thank you.” The edges of his lips lifted into a sexy
grin. Okay, I lied. Maybe I flailed a lot.
“How was traffic into Philly?”
“Huh? Oh, good. I left early just in
case, but it was fine. I’ll be staying with my mother so I can just
walk here and not have to worry about it.”
“You stayin’ in the old
neighborhood?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’ll be there until
I finish up here. Makes it easier to commute, you
know?”
“Good. I like you closer.”
I stopped short at his comment just as
we reached his small office located at the center of the gym. Large
windows enclosed the face, giving me a view of two men sparring in
the Octagon while several others waited for their turn in the MMA
ring. The swearing, the beat-downs, all seemed to drift into the
box-shaped space.
My fingers slid over the large chestnut
desk. “This is nice.”
He huffed and placed my laptop case on
top. “Too nice. Doesn’t fit the damn room.”
An ivy perched on top of a matching
filing cabinet was the only cheery color present. I pulled out my
laptop and fired it up while I finished scanning the area, the
interior designer within me working out ways to spruce up the small
space.
Before I could make a few suggestions,
Finn hurried in. “Kill, the writer from that MMA mag is here to do
your interview.”
“I’ll be right there.” He smirked
at me. “I have to take care of this. You okay here by yourself?”
I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
He smiled and stroked my chin. “I’ll
see you in a few.”
He prowled out the door. I watched him,
unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. I sat behind the desk,
still swooning as I began to work.
A deep voice echoed into the room from
across the gym. “Whew. Check out that fine
female moving into Kill’s space.”
“Oh, shit,” another guy
said. “Do you know who that is?”
I glanced briefly toward the cluster of
men waiting for their turn to spar. The smaller of the three squinted
my way. “Yeah. Ain’t that Sofia Tres Santos? Mateo’s kid
sister?”
I skimmed through the file I’d set up
for Killian, trying to ignore them. My brother had a rep. Everyone in
South and West Philly knew him.
The guy who’d questioned who I was
laughed. “Maybe, but that’s not what I mean.” My typing slowed
to a stop as a familiar feeling of dread clawed its way down my back.
“Way I hear it, she’ll fuck anything with a pulse.”
Velcro tore as one of the fighters
adjusted his gloves. “No shit.” He chuckled. “Well, hey, I got
me a pulse.”
My stomach lurched, and sweat built up
beneath my arms.
“Are you sure?” the guy who knew
Mateo asked. “I always thought she was all shy—you know, what’s
that word? Pure. Innocent-like.”
“Get the hell out of here. My cousin
Kenny says she pretends to be all sweet, but that’s just an act. A
shitload of brothers have tapped that—”
I slammed the door to the office shut
and leaned against it, my breath too fast and my heart seconds from
exploding. The room went hazy as my eyes quickly flooded with tears.
I clasped my hand over my mouth, wishing everything he’d said
wasn’t true. I wasn’t so sweet, wasn’t so pure—not anymore.
Any innocence I’d clung to was stolen from me the day I was raped.
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| Author Cecy Robson |
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