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Becoming a Legend

Sarah Robinson




  Becoming a Legend is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2016 by Sarah Robinson

  Excerpt from Chasing a Legend by Sarah Robinson copyright © 2016 by Sarah Robinson

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Chasing a Legend by Sarah Robinson. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  Ebook ISBN 9781101885604

  Cover design: Diane Luger

  Cover photograph: blackday/fotolia

  randomhousebooks.com

  v4.1

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By Sarah Robinson

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Chasing a Legend

  Prologue

  “I think you broke his nose,” said Rory, Kane’s oldest brother, as he handed Kane a bottle of water in the corner of the Vegas octagon. The crowd buzzed with excitement, voices hoarse from screaming during the last few rounds. It was all Kane could hear, and the sound made the blood pound through his veins as the crowd cried for more.

  Kane glanced across to his opponent in the opposite corner, similarly surrounded by coaches and trainers helping him prepare for the next round. Xavier’s nose was clearly crooked and gushing blood into a towel, but he didn’t seem concerned or in pain. Meaty and short, Kane’s enemy was built like a tree stump, low to the ground and impossible to budge. Kane had quickly discovered that although Xavier wasn’t fast, or all that powerful, he wasn’t going to be easy to take down.

  Not that it really mattered. He was following someone else’s orders now. End it in the third round, not a minute sooner. Make it look believable—break his nose or something.

  Everything Kane had trained for since the moment he’d first stepped into an octagon was staring him in the face. The fight of a lifetime, his dream of fame and fortune.

  It was all happening right here, right now.

  And he was going to lose it all. You can’t win, Kane.

  His father’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Ready for round three? He’s trying to tire you out. Don’t let him.”

  “Got it.” Kane stood and shook out his limbs before Rory helped push his mouthpiece back into place. All four of his brothers and his father clapped him on the back and shouted words of encouragement over the roar of the rowdy Las Vegas crowd; then they climbed out of the cage and continued to cheer him on from the sidelines.

  Xavier’s team cleared out as well, while the crowd eagerly awaited the start of the third round. Kane tuned them out, focusing only on his fists, which were clenched in front of him. In less than three seconds, he’d have to make the biggest choice of his life.

  The warning echoed in his mind as he stared at his opponent. You’ll do it, or everyone you love will pay your debt for you.

  The words echoed and rolled in his gut, sickening him. He could win this fight; he wanted to win this fight. He’d spent his whole life preparing to win this fight. But now he had to choose between two of the most important things in the world to him: the fight or his family.

  Seconds away, and he had no idea what he was going to do.

  Those beady, black eyes entered his mind again, and the threat rang loud and clear.

  Take a dive…or else.

  Chapter 1

  “I don’t have time to go to a fucking party, Rory,” Kane said with a loud exhale as his fist crunched into the heavy bag his older brother was braced behind.

  “Straighten your arm. Hit it straight on,” Rory instructed as Kane continued punching the bag. “You’ve got to go. Ma will kill you if you don’t.”

  “You got engaged last spring, bro. Don’t you think now that the leaves have started changing it’s time to stop milking the celebrations?” In fact, it had been at the state championship Kane had been competing in when Rory had popped the question to his girlfriend, Clare. Everyone had gone all googly-eyed over the whole thing, and while Kane was happy that his brother was happy, he didn’t really care about romance, weddings, or “girly” things like that. Kane’s twin brother, Kieran, had fallen under the same ridiculous spell a few months later, proposing to his girlfriend, Fiona.

  Now that the oldest two of the five Kavanagh men were settling down, their mother was putting pressure on the rest to do the same. Her desire for grandbabies was getting out of hand.

  Rory leaned into the bag as Kane continued to punch it. “It’s not an engagement party; it’s a joint bridal shower for Clare and Fiona.”

  “Aren’t those things just for chicks? I’m not going to some pink-glitter party.”

  Rory shrugged. “Apparently men are invited, too. They’re being all progressive or some shit—I don’t know. Ma said we gotta all show tonight.”

  Kane rolled his eyes. “Fine, but there better be beer.”

  “You can’t drink even if there is. You’re in training.”

  “I’m getting drunk, or I’m not going.” Kane slammed his fist into the bag once again, this time a little closer to Rory’s head.

  “Nationals is three months away, Kane. If you’re going to beat Xavier, then you’ve got to be at the top of your game, and I’m saying that as your trainer. You need to be in the best shape possible.”

  Kane straightened, pulled the wraps off his hands, then turned toward a young woman walking past them toward the treadmills that were off to one side of the main room at Legends, the Kavanaghs’ mixed-martial-arts gym. “Excuse me, beautiful,” he called to her. “Can I ask you a question?”

  The woman, wearing a neon-green sports bra, paused and looked at him, fluttering her eyelids and giving him a flirtatious smile. “As long as it ends with you taking my phone number.”

  Kane grinned. Women seemed to like the whole MMA thing he had going for him. “My brother here says I’m not in shape. What do you think?”

  She raked her eyes up and down his body, and her tongue touched her lips as her eyes lingered at his abs. He flexed his eight-pack, and when she caught her breath, he shot her a knowing grin.

  “Oh, I think you’re doing just fine,” she said with an exaggerated wink. She picked up the phone sitting on a shelf next to where he was standing, opened the contacts list, and typed in a number. “But call me, and we can put it to the test.�
�� She set the phone back in place.

  “Well, then,” Kane said with a laugh, his brows raised as he watched her walk off, a purposeful sway to her hips that indicated she hoped he was watching. She disappeared around a corner, and Kane turned back to Rory. “See? I’m doing just fine, and I’m having that beer.”

  “Next time you hit on a random chick, how about you stop her before she puts her number in my phone,” Rory said, grabbing the phone off the shelf and scrolling through his contact list. “If Clare sees something like that in here, I’ll be dead.”

  “That’s why I leave my phone in my locker.” Kane shrugged. “I come here to train, and that’s it. Honestly, I’m the poster child of restraint and focus.”

  Rory snorted, shaking his head at Kane’s sarcasm. “Yeah, sure you are.”

  While Kane avoided any romances or trysts at the gym his family owned, he had to admit that it was hard to refrain from. There were some gorgeous women who came here, mainly because it was so well known for sponsoring some of the top mixed-martial-art athletes of the last decade. Rory’s romance with Clare had flourished inside the walls of this gym, or at least the part Kane had seen when he walked in one morning to find them having a naked sleepover in the middle of an octagon. Despite their breaking Kane’s cardinal rule, he had to admit the romance had turned out pretty well for his brother, and Kane loved Clare like a sister now.

  “What did she say her name was?” Rory’s face was scrunched up as he stared at the screen of his phone. “I can’t figure out what she added—I’ve got, like, hundreds of contacts in here.”

  “Seriously?” Kane leaned over Rory’s shoulder, looking at the contact list he was scrolling through. “You’ve got that many ladies on the hook you can’t tell them apart, player?”

  “Fuck you.” A smirk lifted one corner of Rory’s mouth as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Clare’s the only girl for me. About time you started settling down, too, you know.”

  Not a chance in hell. Kane laughed and shook his head, saying good-bye to his brother and walking toward the locker rooms to shower. He wasn’t looking forward to the bridal shower tonight, but if there were some hot women there, he might be able to get through it.

  —

  The blare of music could easily be heard in the night air outside O’Leary’s Pub as Kane pulled open one of the heavy doors and walked inside. The moment his eyes had adjusted to the bar’s interior, he found himself in a place he barely recognized as the pub he’d been going to for years. Glimmering little lights hung from the ceiling, obscuring the old bar lanterns. Soft white fabric covered walls that were usually forest green with dark wood paneling, giving the place more of a gauzy boudoir appearance than a bar. The high tables surrounded by tall barstools had been draped in shiny gold tablecloths adorned with elaborate centerpieces.

  What the fuck…?

  His brothers must have rented out the entire place for the night. Thick red velvet rope strung between heavy brass posts created a barrier beyond which lay a dance floor that looked like it had been laid down just for the occasion.

  Well, that was something. He did love dancing, and he had already spied a number of beautiful women he’d love to whisper sweet nothings to on the dance floor. And if he was lucky…

  “About time, Killer.” Kieran, using his twin’s fighting name, smirked at Kane from a few feet away. It was like looking in a mirror, since Kieran was identical to him in almost every way, from their dark brown hair and blue eyes to broad shoulders and strong build. Kieran was somehow an inch or two taller than him, but Kane was still well over six feet and made up for it in muscle.

  Technically, “Killer” had been Kieran’s name first, but Kane had stolen it from him while Kieran was incarcerated. It was a good name, and Kane had wanted it. He wasn’t sorry. He always went after what he wanted. Although Kieran had initially been angry, he later forgave him, joking that Kane had more of a killer instinct anyway. Damn straight.

  “Hey, bro.” Kane clasped his brother’s hand as they bumped their shoulders together and gave each other a pat on the back. “Nice party.”

  “That’s all thanks to this lady over here.” Kieran pulled away and wrapped an arm around the blue-eyed brunette sporting a large diamond on her ring finger.

  Kieran was recently released after having spent a couple of years in jail; he was now engaged to the beautiful Fiona and helping to raise her sweet special-needs sister. Kane had never seen his twin brother busier—or happier. Kane was just glad to have him back, because those years apart had been the worst. Kieran wasn’t just his brother, he was his best friend. Yet jail had changed all of that. He’d been released, then had immediately jumped into a serious relationship with an instant family. Now Kieran was still a huge part of his life, but it was different. These days, Kane saw Rory more often than he saw his own twin, which was odd because, technically, Kieran lived with him, even though he spent most of his nights with Fiona and sneaked out before her little sister woke up.

  “And thanks to Clare,” Fiona added, smiling up at her fiancé. Kane gave her a hug next, wrapping her in his big arms like she’d been his sister his whole life.

  “Where’s Shea tonight?” Kane asked, inquiring after Fiona’s younger sister. Shea had autism spectrum disorder, and Fiona had become her legal guardian after their mother had been murdered. Both girls had completely stolen his heart over the last few months, and he’d do anything for them. It might not be official yet, but in his mind, they were both Kavanaghs.

  “Kiera’s babysitting her at your parents’ house,” Fiona answered, referring to the young teacher who always babysat for the girl.

  “What? Kiera’s not coming?” interrupted a broad-shouldered man who was standing nearby. Fiona confirmed with a nod, before Kieran whisked her away to greet other partygoers across the room. Frowning, the man crossed his heavily inked arms over his chest, flexing his muscles and making his many tattoos seem to come alive. “Couldn’t Fi have found someone else? Kiera should be here.”

  Kane acknowledged his younger brother with a roll of his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Quinn, make a move on the girl or move on.”

  “Like you’re one to talk,” Quinn tossed back. “You and Nora have been flirting for as long as we’ve known her.”

  Kane laughed and shook his head. “Correction, I’ve been flirting. She’s been stonewalling me.”

  “Whatever. It’s not like that with Kiera and me,” Quinn continued. “We’re just friends.”

  “Friends who want to bang,” Kane said.

  “Ah, the first crass line of the evening, and you only just got here.” Nora Hannigan, Fiona’s best friend and now a guest at every Kavanagh function, walked up beside him, one hand on her hip. She looked at him with disgust then turned to his inked-up brother with a warm smile. “Hi, Q, how are you?”

  “I’m great, but I’m not the one you need to worry about.” Quinn gestured at her and then at Kane. “Ma told me to make sure you two don’t ruin the party with your bickering.”

  “We don’t bicker,” the hazel-eyed beauty protested as she pushed her tight blond curls over her shoulder so they fell down her back.

  Kane stared, unable to ignore how stunning Nora looked tonight in her short cocktail dress and strappy high heels. Everything hugged her small curves perfectly, and he was instantly reminded why he’d first found himself attracted to her so many months ago. “Bickering is for kids,” he agreed, sidling up beside Nora’s tall frame and wrapping an arm around her waist. “See? We can play nice and be adults.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes at them. “Whatever, but you’ve got Ma to deal with if you keep hating each other.” He walked away.

  Kane grinned and squeezed her side slightly with his hand. “I think he bought that we don’t hate each other.”

  “You mean, you hope he bought it,” she said through a tight smile. “Since you’re petrified of your mother.”

  Kane chuckled, but she was partly right. The last thing he ever
wanted to do was upset his mother. He tightened his grip, pulling her more snuggly into his side. Yeah, he liked the feel of her there. He smiled down at her. “Nothing wrong with a man respecting his mother.”

  Nora didn’t answer, but she stiffened under his hand. “You just said you’d play nice.”

  “Oh, I am.” His voice was husky and low against her ear.

  She tried to step away from him, but with little room to move, she found herself trapped between him and the bar. He dropped one arm down on either side of her and gripped the bar’s edge with each hand. “Believe me, I could play very nice if you would retract your claws, kitty.”

  He wasn’t one for nicknames usually, but from the moment he’d first met Nora in this very bar so many months ago, he’d called her kitty. She’d practically hissed at him as he’d tossed out every pickup line he knew back then. The nickname riled her up so much, he made sure to tease her with it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

  But sometimes, he didn’t just want to ruffle her feathers. Sometimes, he wanted them to put away the barbs and just be real. “You look so fucking beautiful tonight, Nora.”

  Nora visibly gulped, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been a moment before. “It’s just us. You don’t have to play nice.”

  “No games.” The blood rushed through his ears, drowning out the noise of the party. They were in a sea of friends and family, and yet it felt to him as if they were alone, in the same bubble they always found themselves in when around each other—and for a second, she looked as if she was thinking the same thing. “I mean it, Nora. You’re stunning.”

  Her pupils dilated, a soft red tinge of color touched her cheeks, and her cleavage seemed to push harder against the neckline of her dress—little details he might have missed if he’d allowed her snippy words to keep him at a distance as they normally did. But up close…he felt a jolt of adrenaline, a bit like when he was in the ring and he zeroed in on an opponent’s weakness. Nora wasn’t weak, though, and he’d never make the mistake of thinking that. But she wasn’t nearly as immune to him as she pretended to be.