Beat (The Beat and The Pulse #1) (5 page)

Chapter 6

Ash

She was Coach’s
mother fuckin’
daughter
.

Renee. Ren. Spitfire.
Shit hot aim with a cricket bat.

Hiding out in the gym
as the Thursday night Intermediate class got under way, I stared out the window
as I lifted some weights, my gaze planted directly on Ren’s firm little ass.
The fuckin’ mouth on her. Smart ass bitch.

I watched her little
body as she went through the motions warming up on the mat. Stretching and
sticking her tits out with her arms over her head. Then her ass was in the air
and my cock tightened. Bloody hell.

She was the only
woman who took the class and had been paired with one of the smaller guys, but
he was still at least thirty kilos heavier than her. A single blow to the head
would send her straight out.

Sweat trickled down
my back as I watched her line up with the rest of the men. The class was small,
ten all up. My gaze settled on her tits and before I could glance away, my cock
started to twitch at the memory of her hard nipples pressing against that
little singlet she'd been wearing the night before. Shit.

I was only horny
because it'd been a while, not because I wanted her in particular. I
could
have her if I wanted to, but she was Coach's mother fuckin' long lost daughter.
How would that shit look? I'm sure he'd marry me off to Monica in an instant,
but the thought of Monica didn't make my dick do anything. She was pretty and
all, but if I stuck my cock in her I swear her pussy would bite it off. I liked
my dick. I liked it a lot.

And Ren? She already
hated me.

Snorting, I set the
weight down and turned to the treadmill. Focusing my pent up sexual tension on
the street outside, I ran full tilt. My feet pounded on the track and I thumped
the control. It wasn't until sweat was pouring down my back that I felt it. It
being the burn in my muscles.

Glancing out the
window into the studio, my gaze caught on Ren's. Her face was already flushed
from the class, but she ducked her head like she was embarrassed I'd caught her
staring.

No good was going to
come of this. I knew that better than anyone on the fucking planet. Better to
be an asshole and deal with it. It would be kinder.

Chapter 7

Ren

Ash had been back an
entire week and still hadn't tired of antagonizing me, so when I walked into
the kitchen on the eighth bright and sunny morning, I was thrilled beyond
belief to see him sitting at the table.

End sarcasm.

He was all on his own
and when he saw me come in, his eyes narrowed in displeasure.

Great, breakfast with
the douche. I was stubborn as all hell, so there was no way I was skipping
because he was in here. At least there wasn't an audience in the way of Monica.

“Morning,” he
drawled. “Where's that little singlet you were wearing the other night? The one
that shows off your tits?”

Rolling my eyes, I
wrenched open the cupboard, pulling out some bland cereal. “Where's a cricket
bat when you need one?”

There was a loud
snort behind me.

“Ash Fuller-shit,” I
muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

His head snapped up
and his green eyes met mine.

“Don't get your
knickers in a twist,” he said, his lip curling.

Fixing myself a bowl
of cereal, I wondered if I should live life a little dangerously and ask him
what the hell his problem was. Had my arrival upset the dynamic of Beat that
much? Or was he just spitting the dummy because he couldn't show up in the
middle of the night anymore?

I took a spot at the
furthest end of the table and promptly ignored him.

“Hey, Ren,” Dean
exclaimed as he burst into the room, going straight for the fridge. He glared
at Ash and wrenched open the door.

“Hey,” I replied.

Ash snorted, which
caused Dean to turn and glare. “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” he
replied, cocking his head to the side.

“If you’ve got
something to say to me Ash, then just say it.”

I glanced between the
two men warily. Hostility crackled in the air, but I wasn’t sure who was the
more pissed. If I was going to take a stab at it, I’d say Dean. Ash had turned
up without so much as an explanation to anyone and the Twins’ training time had
been split.

“We’ve known each
other for years, Dean,” Ash said, a smirk spreading across his face. “Why so
pissy now?”

Dean slammed the fridge
door closed and placed his palms on the table, his whole body tense. “You’ve
lost form Ash. You think you’re still on top here? You think you can just come
back outta nowhere and still be top fuckin’ dog?”

“Care to back up your
words in the ring?” Ash asked, his voice oddly calm.

Dean thumped his fist
on the tabletop. “You're on.”

Ash stood, his chair
scraping across the tiled floor. “Five minutes.”

As he passed me, our
gazes met briefly before I looked at Dean. Once Golden Boy had disappeared out
into the studio, I asked, “You sure?”

Dean dumped his glass
in the dishwasher. “Ash is an asshole. He's lost form, he's lording it around
the fuckin' joint and I'd like to be able to beat him so I can rub it in and
prove he isn't the god he thinks he is.”

I stood, taking my
empty bowl over to join his glass. “
Can
you beat him?”

He shrugged. “Dunno,
but I'm sure as fuck gunna try.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “C'mon, come
and watch.”

I smiled. “Watch you
get your ass handed to you? Sure.”

Dean groaned. “Ren,
you're meant to be on my side.”

I grinned at the
thought of Ash having his ass handed to him. That was probably going to be
unlikely, but if miracles happened, I wanted to be there to see it. “Then let’s
go, hot shot.”

We walked out into
the studio where everyone had gathered. Lincoln was giving Dean the stink eye,
shaking his head.

“What you thinkin’
man?” he asked his twin.

Dean laughed.
“Exactly what you’ve been thinking since Ash Fuller walked back in the door.”

Lincoln turned to me,
looking for back up. “You believe this, Ren?”

“Unfortunately,” I
replied. “Should I get the first aid kit ready?”

“Oh, ha ha,” Dean
drawled, shucking off his shirt and shoes. He turned to tape his hands and I
gave Lincoln a concerned look, but he just shrugged.
Men
.

Ash clapped his hands
together and started stretching his quads as Dad stood by the wayside looking
disappointed, but hardly surprised at their impromptu pissing match. He just
eyed both men and shook his head like he was dealing with a bunch of
testosterone fuelled teenagers. The testosterone part was right.

“If you boys have got
a score to settle, I’d rather you do it in the ring with a ref, than out on the
street, “ he said as he threaded his way into the ring.

He turned to hold the
ropes up for Dean, who slipped through and began bouncing on his heels,
cracking his neck back and forth.

“No unnecessary
risks,” he declared, jabbing a finger at Dean. “You’re the one with a placing
for the AUFC, not Ash. Got it?”

“Got it, Coach.”

The Twins were in the
competition, but Ash
was
the competition. I had a feeling that just
being in it wasn't enough for Dad and the reputation of the studio. It was
Championship or bust and Ash could've done that for him. Beat was doing bad
financially because of whatever happened four years ago. It was bad enough for
the studio to take some of the fall and nobody seemed to know what had really
happened.

So, yeah, I wanted to
watch the Golden Boy fight to see what all the fuss was about.

I perched on the
bench along one side of the ring as Ash stepped through the ropes. Despite
myself, my gaze took in every inch of him from his heels, across his tattooed
chest which was ripped with muscles, all the way to his messy head of dark
hair.

I'd gotten used to
being around naked male torsos and exposed nipples a while ago now, but none of
them had looked quite as fine as Ash Fuller. His tattoo made him look meaner
than he was, enhancing the broadness of his chest. In short, he looked
formidable. His physique was something else, but his personality left a lot to
be desired.

The two men toed
their marks as Dad held up an arm between them. “Clean fight, boys. If it gets
too rough, I’m going to put an end to it. Understand?”

They nodded, not
taking their eyes of one another.

Dad readied himself to
scramble out of the way. “Okay, ready and…
fight
.”

The moment he was out
of the way, Dean lunged, going for a throw, but Ash countered, their shoulders
slamming into each other’s chests. They grappled one another, trying to gain
purchase, but neither could get the upper hand. They broke contact and stepped
back, guards up again.

The Twin stepped
forward and punched with his right, going for Ash’s jaw. Golden Boy guarded his
face with his arms, absorbing Dean’s blow into his forearms. I winced, knowing
that had to hurt, but if he felt it, it didn’t even show on his face.

Dean went to feign
right while he was distracted, but Ash was too quick. He pushed a shoulder into
the twin's stomach, hands grabbing at his arm. Before anyone could blink, Dean
was flying through the air, landing on the flat of his back with a grunt.

Yeah, Ash was
good
.

“
Fuck
,” Dean
exclaimed, scrambling to his feet.

“Language, Dean,” Dad
said, patting him on the shoulder.

Ash toed his mark and
stood tall, waiting for Dean to get on with it. No fuss, no fanfare, just one
hundred percent business. He didn't need to push Dean verbally because his
skill and body did it for him. Finally, I could see why Ash was the Golden Boy
of Beat and that title was actually deserved.

There was movement
beside me and a cloud of Chanel Number Bitch perfume wafted up my nose. I
resisted the urge to groan out loud. This wasn't going to be pretty, not by a
long shot. I'd seen Monica watching me for weeks, waiting for the perfect
opportunity to sink her claws in to mark her territory and now that Ash was
here, her game had upped. Seemed like she'd finally picked her moment and it
was while everyone was preoccupied with the ring.

“Good, isn't he?”
Monica said, venom lacing her words.

I didn't answer or
acknowledge her existence.

“I see you watching
him, you know.”

I knew she meant Ash,
but she had nothing to worry about. I couldn't stand the guy. It was all
professional admiration.
Liar
.

“He's not interested
in you Ren,” she said condescendingly, pretending to be all concerned sister.
“All your doing is embarrassing yourself.”

Glaring up at her, I
couldn't help biting. “I'm embarrassing myself? I can't stand the guy. Looking
at him makes me want to choke on my own vomit, much like the feeling I get when
I look at your face. You think he wants you? If anyone should be embarrassed,
it's you.”

Monica narrowed her
eyes, her lips thinning. “You're not welcome here, Renee.” She used my full
name, like she was a parent telling off a naughty child. “You think Dad wants
you here? You think you're welcome?” She laughed, shaking her head. “He put you
in the storage closet like the trash you are. There's all the confirmation you
need.”

I straightened up,
balling my fists at my sides. Anger rose hot and fast in my gut. I wanted to punch
her into next week.

She looked me up and
down, her lip curling in a sneer. “There's no way you are my sister. You will
never be a part of this family.”

We were nose to nose
and it was a wonder someone hadn't punched or scratched yet. Monica was the hair
pulling type, while I was the kind who'd full fist sucker punch in the face. My
entire body began coiling, readying itself to break her perfect, symmetrical
nose.

A thick arm pushed
between us and I blinked hard, digging my fingernails into my palms.

“Hey,” a deep voice
boomed. “Take a beat.”

My gaze met Ash's and
I realized the fight was over and everyone was staring at us. Unsurprisingly,
Dad was still in the ring, watching us in disappointment. What, did he think
we'd be BFF's and braid each other's hair?
Unlikely
.

Monica let out a loud
sigh as Ash threaded his arm through hers. Without another glance at me, he led
her away, leaving me to seethe in silence.

Typical
.

Lincoln appeared
beside me and put his big paw of a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

I wasn't, but I
nodded, staring after Ash, trying to filter out my glamazon half-sister from
hell. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Total lie. I was the
furthest thing from it. Monica had just voiced all the doubts and fears that
lived deep in my heart. Dean and Linc might be kind, and Josie to an extent,
but deep down I was alone. I had a family that didn't want to acknowledge I
existed, I lived in a closet, I had no direction and what felt like no hope.

I fucking hated the
bitch, but Monica was right.

I didn't belong here.

Not
yet
.