Battered Not Broken Read Online Free PDF Page A

sigh that threatened to escape her when she remembered why she’d asked her friend to help her with her kicks. Two days ago, she’d competed in the women’s MMA competition Cameron had hosted, just like he did every other Saturday. They weren’t as popular as the men’s nights yet, but had begun to draw more competitors lately. One of those competitors had kicked Ally’s butt.
    More accurately, she’d kicked Ally in the gut and knocked her to the mat, where she’d locked her in an armbar she hadn’t been able to escape. She’d been forced to tap out and had lost that match. She’d been disappointed – in herself, mainly, because the blow that had floored her had come after she’d aimed a kick of her own. She’d telegraphed the kick – given it away by moving before she’d actually thrown it – and that had been the moment when she’d lost the upper hand she’d maintained up until then.
    “Let’s warm up on a bag.” Melissa halted beside a large one that wasn’t being used. If anyone would be able to get Ally’s kicks into shape, it would be her – she was unbelievably skilled and quick with her long legs.
    Ally practiced both punching and kicking combinations for about five minutes, solely for the purpose of warming up. Then she nodded to Melissa, who began critiquing her as she laid into the bag with roundhouse kicks – the very move she’d botched during her match on Saturday.
    Kicking over and over again and trying to iron out the kinks in her technique under Melissa’s watchful guidance was a calming process. While the movements might seem simple, she had to devote her full concentration to them to avoid slipping back into her old habits, and that left no room in her thoughts for worry over her father.
    “Your kicks are looking a lot better,” Melissa said eventually. “Let me warm up on the bag for a few minutes, then we’ll try them out on the mats.”
    Ally backed away from the bag, giving Melissa some space as she focused on steadying her breathing and her heart rate. She’d almost succeeded when a gust of cold wind slipped past her, disturbing the ends of her ponytail.
    She turned toward the door where someone had just entered. Tall, male and clad in a black hoodie, he could have been almost any one of the gym’s members. But Ally knew exactly who he was. Certainty hummed through her veins and brought back memories of Friday night, which was the last time she’d seen Ryan Moore.
    Her suspicions were confirmed when he turned slightly, exposing a strong jaw and unforgettably blue eyes to her sight. Knowing she’d been able to identify him at a glance was a source of senseless pleasure. There was no real reason why it should have made her happy, but it did.
    “Ready.”
    Ally turned to face Melissa, who’d worked up a light sweat.
    “Let’s go before someone else takes the mat.” She tipped her head of night-black curls toward an area in the far left corner. It wasn’t a ring, but an area of floor space that had been laid with interlocking foam mat pieces. It was perfect for sparring.
    Ally nodded and started toward the corner with Melissa. She hadn’t made eye contact with Moore when he’d entered, but knew that he’d seen her – his gaze burnt between her shoulder blades, an almost tangible sort of pressure. She didn’t look over her shoulder, but somehow, she knew he was looking.
    At least she’d gotten in some practice before he’d arrived. She had a personal policy against dating strangers, but that didn’t mean she wanted to make a fool out of herself in front of a man who had the ability to make her feel as if the city was in the midst of an August heat wave with a single look.
    “Good,” Melissa coached her as they moved in easy circles. “Good, but a little faster this time.”
    Ally gave her technique every bit of concentration she could muster, reserving only a small corner of her mind for the simple awareness that she was being watched. Her form wasn’t as