Dax's Sins: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance: A Sucker Punch Romance, #2

By Paula Cox

Dax's Sins is book 2 of the Sucker Punch Romance trilogy. Book 3, Dax's Silence, is available everywhere now!

I break everyone who challenges me. This girl will be no different.

Whether on the battlefield or in the cage, it makes no difference:
I always come out on top.
Tiana thinks she will be the one to strip away my defenses.
But the only one stripping is her.

I've got a body count that's hundreds deep.
It's what soldiers do:
We take down what's in front of us.
I simply refuse to lose.

But Tiana is different than anyone I've ever faced.
She's tough, but fragile.
Smart, but scared.
She's seen hell, too.
A different kind of hell than the bloodbaths I'm used to.

I want to fight for her.
To protect her from the bastards in her past…
And the devils in her head.

For that to happen, she has to let me in.
She wants to refuse, to keep me at arms' length.

But one way or another, I'm going to break her down.
I won't rest until I make her mine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBook Publishing World
• Release date: Jun 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386726852

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Dax’s Sins: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance (Book 2)

By Paula Cox

I break everyone who challenges me. This girl will be no different.

WHETHER ON THE BATTLEFIELD or in the cage, it makes no difference:

I always come out on top.

Tiana thinks she will be the one to strip away my defenses.

But the only one stripping is her.

I’ve got a body count that’s hundreds deep.

It’s what soldiers do:

We take down what’s in front of us.

I simply refuse to lose.

But Tiana is different than anyone I’ve ever faced.

She’s tough, but fragile.

Smart, but scared.

She’s seen hell, too.

A different kind of hell than the bloodbaths I’m used to.

I want to fight for her.

To protect her from the bastards in her past...

And the devils in her head.

For that to happen, she has to let me in.

She wants to refuse, to keep me at arms’ length.

But one way or another, I’m going to break her down.

I won’t rest until I make her mine.

Chapter One

Dax had never been great at talking his way out of trouble. His instincts just didn’t run like that. Being stuck in a sterile conference room with a bunch of bureaucrats and a guy he flat-out hated—it was everything he despised about life outside the Corps. This IMMAF tribunal had not been convened to mete out justice or even to get to the truth of what had happened that night. No, it was an underhanded way to sidestep both those things—justice and the truth—and they were using this private, unofficial venue to feel Dax out. To figure out what he wanted.

Words. Fucking words. He just wasn’t trained to fight with language the way these people were. They were too subtle, their rules too bendable. By limiting him to this private tribunal and framing the events of that night the way they wanted, these IMMAF delegates seated around the generic, beige table had him in a corner. He might as well not say anything. Hell, they’d already decided what wasn’t going to happen after this meeting.

But Dax Easterling had never backed down from a fight in his life. He wasn’t about to start now...not with that psychotic loose cannon, Thad Hollis, staring at him down the full length of the table. No way was he going to let that abusive prick get his own way without Dax first speaking his mind. But he had to be careful as well; he did, after all, have a career to protect. The only thing he knew how to do professionally outside the Corps was Mixed Martial Arts.

Okay then. Bring ’em on.

I’m a bit confused, he said, playing dumb for the time being. Why haven’t you invited the others? Freitas and the referee? Why just the two of us. He hated having to nod at the sick asshole across the table, but it was the only way to play the game—their way.

Like we said, Mr. Easterling, this is not a formal investigation. We felt it would be best to try to settle this personal dispute between the two of you before we even think about taking it further. It was an unfortunate incident for all involved, not least for the IMMAF, as I’m sure you’ll both understand. But we’d like to hear your reasons for doing what you did, Mr. Easterling, then give Mr. Hollis a chance to respond. If we can get to the bottom of this here today, and hopefully come to some agreement about what happened, and what, if anything, should be done about it, then we’re in business. If not, well, we’ll just have to take it from there. But I sincerely hope we can put all this behind us. The last thing the sport needs is a drawn-out formal investigation into the way bouts are conducted; I’m sure you’ll agree. And don’t worry, we plan to meet with the ring officials and Mr. Freitas separately. You have my word on that.

Langston, the tribunal chairman, a tanned, white-haired golfer type in his early sixties, was good in his role—clear spoken, congenial, even charming. But though he pretended to be neutral, it was clear to Dax that he was acting within very specific parameters here. Someone from on high had told him to nip this in the bud before it went any further, before the ring officials came under official scrutiny.

The IMMAF did not want that can of worms opened.

Dax nodded his acknowledgment of Langston’s explanation. As long as I get to have my say, I’ll buy that.

Good for you. And Mr. Hollis?

After sneering at Dax, Tiana’s ex scanned the faces around the table, paying closest attention to the stenographer, a willowy black girl of college age who kept looking away from his stare. Who could blame her? Hollis clearly wasn’t playing with a full deck. His eyes now seemed to droop a little whenever he turned his head. Whatever that meant. Nothing good.

Mr. Hollis?

Huh? Oh yeah. Cool. I’m ready. Let’s hear this prick lie through his teeth.

You got that? Dax addressed the stenographer, who didn’t stop typing but looked to Langston for help.

The chairman gave her the greenlight, then turned to Hollis. Let’s try to keep personal remarks out of this. We want to know what happened and why it happened. Nothing more. So who wants to start us off...? Langston glanced at his colleagues: three men and a redheaded woman, all in their forties or fifties.

The small, dour-looking woman with a nasal voice spoke first, saying, I’d like to ask what prompted you to intervene at such a crucial moment in the match, Mr. Easterling? I mean, you’ve already told us you considered Mr. Hollis to be suffering psychologically. But we have ring officials to make those sorts of calls, don’t we? What made you want to overrule the judgment of trained professional ring staff? That’s what I’d like to know.

And there it is! They want all my cards on the table. They want to know what I really think of professional referees in this sport. If they don’t know all about the corruption themselves, they’ve definitely heard the rumors, and they don’t want it splashed all over the media in a high-profile case. Maybe I have some clout here. But if I’m not careful, I could bury my career as well.

It was a gut reaction, ma’am, Dax replied. Just like I’d have had in the Marine Corps if one of our men had been behaving erratically. In combat, it takes a soldier to tell if another soldier is struggling, if he’s a step or two behind. It’s no different in the ring. Only this time Thad Hollis was out on his feet. His legs had gone. He couldn’t defend himself properly. And he’d been acting strangely since early in the second round.

Lies. Fucking lies! snapped Hollis. Did you hear that shit? ‘Acting strangely,’ he says, when even the ref didn’t see a goddamn thing, and he was right there, two feet away.

Mr. Hollis. Thank you. Langston turned back to Dax. In what way was he acting strangely?

"I tell you what...run the video playback. Compare his behavior in the second and third rounds of that fight with any of his previous fights. Tell me his brain wasn’t freewheeling—all that showboating, missing his punches by a mile, making basic mistakes, no coordination. Either he took a hard knock to the head sometime in the late first or early second, or he just came unglued. Either way, if you don’t see that as erratic behavior, you’ve no business