Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I can do that.” He nods to himself. “I’ll meet you at Kingdom in twenty. I’m going to run by the house really quick.”
Kingdom?
“Okay. Sounds good.” He hangs up.
“What do you know about Kingdom?” I ask.
His brown eyes look down into mine, and he tilts his head to the side.
I lower my eyes, instantly embarrassed by my question. I don’t know this man personally. Maybe he likes to gamble. It is Las Vegas, after all. “I mean, uh …” I stumble, looking for the right lie to make up. “Do you like to play the machines or the tables?” I ask. Then I add, “I prefer the machines.” Lie. I don’t even like to gamble.
“I don’t gamble,” he answers.
“Oh.” Then why in the fuck would he be meeting someone at Kingdom? Maybe for an early lunch? I bite my tongue to keep from asking.
“Thank you for the flowers.” He nods, picking them up off the counter.
“You’re welcome,” I call out as he exits the flower shop. I sigh and pick up my phone to call my brother. He never did come home last night, and he’s three hours late to work.
The phone rings three times and then goes to his voicemail. Sighing, I hang up and immediately call him again. Straight to voicemail this time. The fucker turned his cell off.
Sitting my phone on the counter, I let out a growl. What the fuck is he up to?
CHAPTER EIGHT
GRAVE
I SIT IN my private locker room at Kingdom, waiting to go out into the ring. I can’t say that I’ve always been a fighter, but I have always needed that adrenaline rush. The need to go faster, harder. I feel alive when I’m closest to death. It’s another thing on my long list of addictions. And bouncing around in a ring getting hit while I knock the shit out of someone else feels good.
Cross stands before me, wrapping my right hand in tape. He throws the roll to the floor, then he sighs, letting me know he’s about to bring it up. “How was your trip to Rio?”
My brother and I returned this afternoon. It was either get fucked up tonight or throw a few punches. “Fine.” I jump off the table and start for the door, exiting the room and walking down the long hallway. I can hear the crowd already wound up. Their shouts and hollers fill the large space. “Bloody Nose” by Hollywood Undead plays through the speakers, announcing my arrival. And I hop from foot to foot.
A hand slaps me on the shoulders and then begins to massage them. “Go out there and kick some ass,” Cross tells me. “Then we’ll go out and celebrate.”
I nod my head. “Sounds like a plan. I wanna forget this fucking week.” It’s only Wednesday.
I bounce down the narrow passage. Kingdom is always hosting fights. Some are televised and a big deal, but tonight is amateur night. Which sucks for whoever my opponent is because I do this all the time.
I come to a stop, remove my black silk robe, and the ref feels around me to make sure I’m not hiding anything that can hurt my opponent. Once he nods, giving the all-clear, I enter the ring, throw up my hands and bounce around in a circle in the center of the event center. I spot my brother at the top of the stairs. He stands there with his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest. I ignore him. We haven’t spoken one word since we identified our father’s body in Rio. He didn’t even fight with me about cremating his body and tossing his ashes.
My eyes find Cross, and he’s nodding his head at me, trying to get me wound up. Letting me know I got this. Not surprising, Titan is nowhere to be found. Emilee and her best friend Jasmine have been ring card girls in the past, but they are both MIA tonight while other women fill in for them.
“Give it up for the one, the only … GRAVE!” The announcer yells out my name, and everyone is up on their feet, shouting my name. I smile at them, soaking it up.
“And in the opposite corner, we have a newcomer who thinks he can take on Grave.” People boo.
I smile. Bring it. I love virgins. Well, the ones I get to beat the shit out of anyway.
“It’s his debut, welcome Marker.”
I spin around to see a kid bouncing his way down his aisle. He has a white zip-up hoodie on that’s covering half of his face. I snort. Kids.
He gets checked and then ushered into the ring. He pushes his hoodie back, then he turns around. His hands drop to his side, and his blue eyes widen on me.
Fuck!
APRIL
I sit in the silent living room with a plate of untouched lasagna on the coffee table in front of me. I couldn’t eat. Derek’s words aren’t sitting well with me the more I think about it.