Defeating the Odds Read online

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Epilogue

  About the Author - Kacey Hamford

  About the Author - Amy Davies

  Defeating the Odds

  Kacey Hamford

  Amy Davies

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty One

  22. Chapter Twenty Two

  23. Chapter Twenty Three

  24. Chapter Twenty Four

  25. Chapter Twenty Five

  26. Chapter Twenty Six

  27. Chapter Twenty Seven

  28. Chapter Twenty Eight

  29. Chapter Twenty Nine

  30. Chapter Thirty

  31. Chapter Thirty One

  32. Chapter Thirty Two

  33. Chapter Thirty Three

  34. Chapter Thirty Four

  Epilogue

  About the Author - Kacey Hamford

  About the Author - Amy Davies

  Text copyright © 2018

  Kacey Hamford & Amy Davies

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are the products of the authors’ imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any other means without permission from the authors.

  Acknowledgments

  We would like to thank everyone that has supported us with the writing, editing and formatting of this book.

  Our partners, our families and our friends.

  The readers that have beta read for us, offered us suggestions and motivated us to keep going.

  Thank you to Bookworm Promotions & The Hype PR for helping us with our Cover Reveal.

  And most of all thank you, the reader for downloading this book. I hope you enjoy this M/M romance standalone.

  The hustle and bustle was surrounding me in the changing rooms at the Hawk Arena was what got me pumped up and ready to fight. I feel like I have been waiting all of my life for this fight, especially since he was the reason I lost my best friend, my sunshine, my little sister.

  “Damon, you ready for this?” my coach Harry asks as he slaps me on the back. I climb to my feet and start throwing jabs in the air – it’s very important to warm my body up before a fight. My sports physio Max had already loosened my muscles by rubbing those firm, large hands of his all over my body. It was such a shame that he was straight.

  “Yeah.” I snarl as I picture my opponent's face in my mind. I bounce on the balls of my feet and throw jab after jab in the air.

  “Good, because it’s time.” The changing room quickly empties as my music starts playing. Linkin Park’s ‘Points of Authority’ blasts through the arena, igniting a surge of adrenalin in my veins and a roar from the crowds.

  I’m dressed in only a pair of bright blue shorts with my name running across the band. Damon ‘Hot Head’ Vardy.

  I breathe deeply, trying to calm the rage that’s building inside me. My chest is tight and hot with anxiousness to get this guy under my fists. I’ve trained twelve hours a day, every day, for the last six months - ever since my beautiful sister was taken from me.

  My head snaps up as my name is called out over the loudspeakers. I was lost in my head and didn’t even realise that Max was standing behind me, massaging and loosening the muscles on my shoulders once again.

  “You got this,” he mutters in my ear, his breath causing goosebumps to cover my skin. Coach’s number one rule was to never fuck before a fight. He always stuck by this, said the sexual frustration made us all fight better. I hadn’t had any sex or pleasure for an entire week. I feel for the poor guy I will choose to be with tonight; he will be feeling me for days after.

  “Let’s go!” Coach shouts. I raise my head, roll my shoulders and neck and take the first step towards finally getting vengeance for my sister’s death.

  As soon as he comes into focus, I never let my eyes leave him. There he is in his red shorts, jumping around the cage, trying to wind the crowd up. I grit my teeth and tighten my fists, how could he be like this after killing my sister only six months ago?

  His eyes find mine as the cage door opens. I step in and he shrinks back into his corner.

  “That’s right, fucker, I’m gonna own you,” I mumble to myself, keeping my green eyes on his dark blue ones.

  “Vardy!” Coach shouts. I glance at him over my shoulder. “Keep a cool head.” I shoot a chin lift his way as the referee enters the cage and motions for us both to join him in the middle.

  The crowd are going wild. I chance a quick look to my right. The whole place is filled with people; young, old, men and women. My mum and dad are sitting in the front row. My mum is biting her fingernails and my dad has his arm flung over her shoulders. It looks like he’s muttering something to her as she keeps nodding her head. What is that all about? My brothers Alex and Callum are standing up behind them, shouting and hollering with the crowd. We had spoken earlier and were all in agreement that this guy had to pay for what he did to our sister. I wouldn’t let them down, not like I did her. My Olivia.

  “Vardy, Noble, ready?” the ref shouts. We both nod. He takes a step back and the fight starts. I immediately take one step forward and throw the first punch. I always like to get the upper hand. I will not be letting this guy win. He will pay for what he did to my sister.

  I advance on him again, ready to throw another punch when he swoops low and kicks me in the stomach. The force sends me flying back against the cage. He charges towards me but I duck and punch him in the stomach. The grunt that comes from him has me smiling as he wobbles back on his feet. He starts to back away, holding his fists up high. I am about to charge at him when the buzzer sounds, announcing the end of the first round. Shit, those five minutes flew by fast. I need to get my head in the game. I hadn’t
planned on letting him get past the first round. He definitely won’t be getting through the second one.

  “You still got a calm head on, boy?” Coach asks as he wipes away some of the sweat from my face. I nod and grab the bottle of water. It makes me laugh that he still calls me ‘boy’. It had been ten years since I had turned up at his gym, small, young and naïve. I was none of those things now. With my large, toned muscles, long dark hair that I mostly wore up in a bun and the potential of becoming champion. I had worked hard for all those things and this little shit was not going to take that away from me.

  “Round two,” the ref calls out. We meet in the middle of the cage once again and as soon as the ref steps away, Noble lunges for me. I see it coming and manage to dodge him, laughing at his failed attempt of getting the upper hand on me. He storms towards me again and I throw punch after punch after punch.

  “You killed her!” I scream. “You will pay for taking her away from us all.”

  “It was an accident,” he shouts back, trying to block my fists. I kick his legs out from underneath him and throw more punches at him whilst straddling his body. His guard is up, trying to deflect my hits.

  “You will pay,” I growl.

  “You think she would have wanted this? You taking it out on me? She loved me, man.”

  “You survived; she didn’t. You killed her,” I roar, throwing punches into his sides.

  “You think this makes you a real man? You’re a cock-sucking queer and she was ashamed of you.” I throw one more punch, my muscles straining as I use all my strength and rage. My fist connects with his jaw and blood sprays from his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

  Knock out.

  I had won. I stumble away from him as my mind takes in what he said, it was all lies. Olivia hadn’t been ashamed of me, had she? Anger fuels my blood and I fly back towards him. Before I can throw any more punches, I am being dragged away from the cage. I try to fight whoever has hold of me.

  “Vardy, calm your arse down!” Coach shouts as he slams me back against the wall of lockers in the changing room. My vision clears and I see the enraged look on his face. Over his shoulder, Max is stood staring at me. Is that concern, pity or disgust on his face?

  “Max, give us a minute,” Coach shouts out, not taking his eyes off me.

  “I’ll be outside, Coach.” He turns around and leaves the room.

  “This is getting out of control,” Coach roars as he takes a step back and starts pacing in front of me. “I’ve seen you losing control one too many times in the cage. You nearly killed him.”

  “Good,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Good? You want to end up in jail for killing him? What good is that to anyone?”

  “Coach, I-”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” He stops pacing and stands in front of me. “If you want to continue here with me, then things have to change. Step one: going to rehab.”

  “Rehab? I don’t have a problem,” I scoff.

  “Yes, you do. Anger problems. I’m booking you in to the Hills Rehab Facility where you can work on your anger management. This is non-negotiable if you want to continue working with me. You’ll leave as soon as I can get you in.” I don’t get a chance to argue my case; Coach turns around and leaves. Did I really have an anger management problem? No, but I’d go just to keep coach happy. How bad could it be?

  Ford

  Sitting in Hawk Arena waiting for the Noble/Vardy fight, my leg bounces, my nerves clearly showing to those around me. I have a lot riding on this fight. My mum’s house, to be exact. It will break her heart if I fuck this up, but I needed this bet. I have put everything I had on this guy Noble - he is the favourite to win. My leg bounces up and down, making me look like a fucking crackhead. My baseball cap is pulled low, so people don't recognise me. That is shit I can’t afford right now. I crack my neck and keep my eyes firm on the cage sitting in front of me, not really taking in the fighters who are beating the fuck out of each other. This is the build up to the main fight.

  My gambling hasn’t always been a problem, but when you play for a big football team, like me, shit happens. You get sucked in. Placing bet after bet, putting money down on what team will win. Since I play the sport professionally, I had the inside scoop, so to speak. Well, I fucked that up plenty of times, which is why tonight is a big deal for me. I need this fucking win. If Noble beats Vardy, then I get to take home fifty grand to my bookie, then I can start a fresh tab.

  The excitement used to race through my body like no other buzz. The feeling of walking out onto a football pitch every game used to be enough, but that faded over the years. The bets started small, but the hype wasn’t enough, so I placed bigger bets, and then I got into deep fucking shit. The money I was earning playing football went straight to my bets. I was losing every fucking bet I placed. I lost my house, my car… fuck, even my mother’s car. My brother beat me up pretty fucking good that weekend. I couldn’t play that Saturday morning. My coach told the press that I’d had a fall at home and that I would be missing that weekend’s game. We won four-two in the game and I won five grand on it. I can’t stop myself.

  Cheers sound around me and my head snaps up to the cage. The bigger guy has the other guy pinned. It isn’t long before the bloke taps out. I could never do the shit they do. I could never put myself through that pain. Both guys are helped out of the ring once the bigger one is announced the winner.

  The sound in the room is deafening as they announce the next fight.

  Noble Vs Vardy

  My heart kicks up a notch as I see the fighters walk to the cage one at a time, their songs playing throughout the arena making the fans go fucking crazy. They chant both names, but it is only Noble I am interested in. I have seen him fight before, and he is a beast in the cage. But this Vardy guy… fucking hell. From what I can see, he is sexy as fuck. All tight, huge muscles that shine under the arena lights. I can’t see his face very well, but I spot the defined jawline, the straight nose, the white teeth. Clearly the promotional posters don’t do these fighters justice.

  Very little people know that I am gay. Well, to be honest only two people know: my brother Nick and my current fuck buddy Elliott. I go to gay clubs where everyone is made to wear masks. I’m a celebrity in the sports world and I am not fully comfortable in letting the world know. I know that being gay doesn’t define how I play or what people think of me - being gay in the sporting world has become more acceptable over the years - it’s just that I don’t like people knowing my shit.

  My palms start to sweat, so I wipe my hands over my jeans, my legs continuing to move on their own accord. It seems I have no control over my body. The fighters stretch their bodies, cracking their necks back and forth. Sweat coating each of them. The ref calls both men to the middle. He explains a few things about the fight and they both fist pump. The fight starts, and my heart tries to pump its way out of my chest like it wants to get in the cage with them. I feel like a druggie who needs his next fix. My entire body is shaking with nerves and excitement. My fists grow tight with each punch, but something doesn’t look right. Vardy looks scary as hell, downright deadly. He throws punch after punch, not giving Noble a chance to retaliate. His face is covered in blood, Noble isn’t defending himself anymore. His body is lax on the mat. Men jump into the cage and pull Vardy off him. My heart stops and my worlds spins.

  He lost. Noble fucking lost. Vardy totally fucking annihilated him. Oh, my fucking God. I sink back into my seat, unblinking. My eyes locked on the now empty cage in front of me. My world is breaking apart right in front of me. People start trickling out of the arena, walking around me, not paying me any attention. Vardy has lost me everything.

  Fucking bastard.

  Fucking prick.

  Anger takes over the numbness, raging through my veins. I stand and get ready to walk towards the back when I bump into someone. I lift my cap a little to see identical blue eyes staring back at me. Fucking great. My brother.

&nb
sp; “Nick?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Ford? You promised. You said that you weren’t going to do this again. Fucking hell, man, think of your team.” Pain and anger are evident in his deep voice. He’s right: I did promise that I wouldn’t come tonight. But fuck, it was a sure bet.

  Motherfucking Vardy.

  “Yeah, I know, Nick, but it was a guaranteed bet. I was going to win, bro, I swear it,” I explain, praying like fuck that he will listen to me. I need him to back off and let me sort this, but Nick is just like our dad. A pain in my arse. Always pushing me to do shit I didn’t want to do.

  “I don’t give a royal fuck, you wanker. By the look on your face you just lost whatever the fuck you bet with.” I look around the arena, never meeting his eyes. “What. Did. You. Bet on?” Nick growls at me, getting right in my face. I feel the colour drain from my face. I know my next words are going to get me killed.

  “Mum’s house,” I tell him. The shame slams into me like an artic lorry. Fuck. I pull at the neck of my t-shirt, sweating like a whore in church. My brother’s breathing is fast and heavy, and I know he is trying to control himself. I chance a glance at him and wince when I see rage is covering his face. He looks just like our dad. He places his hands on his hips and takes a shitload of deep breaths, trying to control his temper.

  “Mum’s house?” I nod my head. “Mum’s fucking house. Oh, you complete and utter fucking wanker. You have done it this time, Ford. That is it. No more chances. You are checking in to rehab. You can’t keep doing this to yourself and others. You-” I cut him off.