Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse)

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Authors: Amity Cross
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wheelie bag beside me. I was such a freak.
    I never ran from my problems, but this… It had just gotten under my skin, and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t deal with seeing Dean after the incident in the gym, and I couldn’t face work. Seeing Lincoln and Violet together would’ve stabbed me right in the heart. I wanted what they had with Dean. I wanted it so bad.
    Checking in and dumping my bag in my room, I stood in the bathroom and took in my reflection. Poking at my pores, I tried to find the flaw that had turned Dean off me. Was it something in my face? Perhaps my eyes? What about my hair? I was the total opposite of Monica Miller. She was dark, and I was light. Maybe I wasn’t enough of a bad girl?
    I was bad enough for Hamish McBride.
    Glancing down at my outfit, I commended myself on choosing to wear my six-inch black patent heels and skinny jeans before I got on the plane. He loved it when I wore these shoes and nothing else. My cream blouse was sheer enough that it showed a hint of my black lacy bra underneath. Simple and sexy but still classy.
    Opening my bag, I fossicked around for my favorite harlot red lipstick and coated my lips. Pouting in the mirror, I shook up my hair and spritzed my locks with hairspray.
    Before I lost my nerve, I called down to the lobby for a taxi. This was either going to be suicide or a fucking good night… literally .

    * * *
    T he Underground hadn’t changed a single bit since my last visit a year ago. It was still a pile of shit.
    Sliding out of the taxi, I flipped open an extra button on my blouse and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
    Approaching warehouse, I allowed my mind to mull over the memories I had of this place. The run-down building in Abbotsford was illegal as hell, but fighters from all over came here to try their luck at winning big money. It was brutal—none of the rules of the AUFC extended here—but it didn’t seem to turn off many.
    When I first found out that Ren was fighting in the women’s Championship, I flipped my lid. She’d been turning up to her part-time job at the cafe around the corner from Beat with cuts and bruises on her face. For a while, I thought Ash had been hitting her, but she soon came clean.
    The first time I went to see her fight was the first time I’d laid eyes on Hamish McBride, the Irish cage fighter who’d stolen my heart.
    I spotted him almost immediately.
    It’d only been a couple of weeks, but he looked different somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I liked it. Weaving through the crowd, I stood before him and allowed the familiarity of his presence to calm my raging heart.
    “Hey,” I said as his gaze met mine.
    “Josie,” he replied, his eyebrow raising.
    “You look surprised to see me,” I purred, taking a step closer.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
    “ Hamish ,” I scolded playfully. “You know why I’m here.”
    “Josie…”
    “We do this all the time, right? Fight, break up, get back together…” I ran my palms over his chest and tugged my bottom lip into my mouth. He loved it when I teased.
    He glanced over my shoulder, then focused on me, his gaze taking in every inch, including my cleavage.
    “What do you say?” I asked, pressing against his familiar body. “You know it’ll be good.”
    “Josie,” he said more firmly.
    I could hear it in his voice. He wasn’t into it, and it made my already dented pride sting like hell. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with someone. I needed it.
    My gaze snapped up to met his. “What? Don’t you want me?”
    His fingers grasped my wrists and pulled my hands away from his chest. “What about Dean?”
    My eyes narrowed at the mention of his name, and I screwed up my nose. “Dean…”
    “Is a fuckin’ cocksucker,” Hamish snarled. “He obviously did somethin’ to make you want to come back here.”
    My mouth dropped open. “Then what’s the problem? Isn’t

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