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About C. Firecox:
C. Firecox is the SINful pseudonym for an International Bestselling Romance Author, part of the duo writing under Sin Cave Publications. She enjoys exploring the delights of pure erotica and erotic romance.
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For His Eyes Only
Abigail Davies
Prologue
Nixon
Darkness covered many sins.
It was where I was the most comfortable. Hidden away in the shadows where no one could see me.
I hadn’t always been that way. There was a time where I wanted all of the attention all of the time. But that had passed after my first big fight. The unknown had become known, and now all I wanted was to slink away into a place where no one knew who I was.
Which was what I was doing—what I did every night.
I wasn't sure what possessed me to follow her home. Maybe it was the way she looked right through me—as if she hadn’t got a clue who I was. Or maybe it was the pain echoing in her eyes; the turmoil threatening to rip her apart while also holding her together.
Something about her called to me in a way I’d never experienced before, so instead of walking to my car outside the gym, I’d followed her here.
She had no idea I was behind her, and the thrill of her obliviousness drew me to her even more.
I halted across from her apartment as she pushed the key in the front door, and without turning back, she entered, unaware of the path she’d just created.
Chapter One
Nixon
Several hundred sets of eyes were pointed my way.
Eyes that were expecting something from me.
Eyes that were here to see the blood spatter across the canvas of the cage.
I pulled in a breath as I bounced on my toes, listening intently as the man with the microphone called out my name.
“Nixon ‘the destroyer’ Deacon!”
Roars echoed throughout the venue, music blasted through the speakers, and then I was making my way to the fight I’d been working toward my entire career. A fight that could mean the start of something incredible, or the end of everything. Several minutes would change the way my life would play out. It was just a matter of which way it would turn.
Wrestling had been my first sport of choice when I was a teen. That had naturally progressed into MMA when I was a year into college. And now, at twenty-five, I was at the top of my game, ready to fight for a title and belt so I could get a contract that would set me up for life.
All I had to do was win.
Easy enough, right?
I didn’t lack confidence as the lock on the cage shut, or as the ref told us to fight fair, but it was the roundhouse kick to the head from my opponent that knocked me off my feet. My back slapped against the canvas, my vision blurred, and my ears rang.
Fuck.
I felt rather than saw him jump on top of me, and it was all I could do to throw my arms in front of my face and wait for the bell to ring for the end of the first round.
He rained his fists down onto me. Each one harder than the last. I bucked my body, but I knew I was still feeling the effects from his kick, so I half-assed it. Waiting…
Then finally the bell rang, and I was stumbling my way to my corner, trying to shake off the after effects of his punishment.
“You got this, Nix,” Len, my coach, said, wiping away some blood from my eye. “Keep focused. Do what you do in the gym.”
I nodded, not saying anything as the bell rang again. Then we were both in the middle of the canvas, staring at each other like this was a fight to the death. And maybe it was. For me anyway.
I bounced forward then to the side, jabbing him in the eye with my right hand and following with my left, then ending the combination with an uppercut.
He stumbled to the side, and I knew then that this was my shot, so I didn’t hesitate, I did what I would have in practice and threw my fists anywhere they would land, finishing off with a forearm to his head and a final punch to his temple.
He went down, but I didn’t move from where I was standing, not until I was sure he wasn’t going to get back up.
Cheers rang out.
Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me away.
I was the champion. I was the lightweight champion of the world.
I’d done it. I’d fulfilled my dream.
So why did it feel so...lackluster? Why did it feel like...nothingness?
Chapter Two
Kloey
“Four ninety-nine,” I said, my tone bored as I waited for yet another customer at the burger joint I worked in to hand me the money for their order.
This place was a means to an end, to pay rent on my shitty one room apartment while I attended college. I wasn’t like most of the kids who went to my school; I didn’t have a daddy to pay for my tuition, or a mommy to take my dirty laundry home to.
No.
I was a kid of the system. One who was turfed out on her ass as soon as she was eighteen. Although, if I was honest, that was a good thing because my last foster home was by far the worse.
Some of the adults were nice and actually fed you, but others didn’t. They took advantage and were only in it for the money. Unfortunately, there was way more of the latter in the system.
A system that was designed to break you.
A system that threw you away as soon as you turned the magic one eight.
But I hadn’t let that stop me.
