Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He lets out a regretful sigh as he gets up off the bed and makes his way around to me, Beast’s sharp gaze following his every step. He places his hands on my shoulders as if trying to calm me, but that only infuriates me more.
I deserve to go, especially after what I’ve been through. I want to watch him pummel the dickhead. In fact, I’m pretty sure I need to see it. “Babe,” he says, softly. “It’s too dangerous. What if he got his hands on you while I wasn’t there? I’d be worrying about you the whole time rather than concentrating on the fight.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say. “I won’t let him. I’ll stay with someone the whole time.”
“Charli,” he says with pain behind his eyes, hating telling me no. “I just . . . I can’t risk you.”
“Please,” I whisper, feeling as though I’m going to break.
He cups his hands around my face and gives me a gentle kiss before pulling back. “You know I would give you anything and everything I possibly could,” he says. “But this . . . I won’t risk your safety over a stupid fight. It’s not worth it.”
My head drops to his shoulder, and I’m pretty sure I start pouting. His arms wrap around me. “I’m sorry, babe,” he murmurs as he holds me.
I give in as a plan starts forming. If he isn’t going to take me, I’ll find my own way there. I’m going to be fine, and he needs to learn that he can’t treat me like a princess because of one bad situation. I need to be free and live my life. And right now, living my life consists of one thing—watching my boyfriend annihilate that asshole.
I make my way over to the bed and climb under the covers with a heavy sigh. The fight doesn’t start for another two hours, so I have plenty of time. I watch as Xander goes about the room getting ready and pumping himself up, though every time he looks back at me and takes in the scars that Pitbull left behind, I know he’s ready. He’s got all the motivation he needs right here, and that’s clear as he commits every last scar to memory.
I have absolutely no doubt that Xander will walk out of that ring tonight as the Underground champion.
Xander comes over to me half an hour later and gives me a kiss. “I better get going,” he tells me. “I want to get a proper warm-up in before the match.”
“Okay,” I sigh, still not happy that he isn’t willing to take me with him, but I know my plan will work. “Good luck,” I say. “Maybe bring me back an eyeball or something.”
“That’s foul on so many levels,” he says, shaking his head in disgust.
I shrug my shoulders, an innocent smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “Eh, you still love me.”
“That I do,” he says.
“Kick his ass, okay,” I tell him, though this time, he knows it’s more of an order than a simple request.
“Babe, I promise you, I will not leave that ring until I’ve thoroughly fucked him up.”
“I really like the sound of that.”
“I know you do,” he says, getting to his feet. “Be safe, okay? I’ve programmed the boys’ numbers into your new phone, so if anything happens and you can’t get ahold of me, you call them, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, hating the thought of being alone for even the smallest amount of time, but I know it won’t be for long.
“I hate leaving you,” he tells me.
“I’ll be okay,” I say, snuggling deeper into my bed. “Please don’t mess up that face of yours. I’m quite fond of it.”
I finally get him out of the door, and the second I hear the lock click into place, the covers come flying off. I grab my phone as I dash around the room looking for the clothes I had earlier as I search through the contacts on my phone, hitting call, and holding it up to my ear while trying to pull a shirt over my head.
“Hey, Slutbag,” Zara yells into the phone over the sound of what I am assuming is either a house party or Micky’s. Though, from the loud dance music, I’m going to go with the first option. Micky says he has no time for shit music like that, despite the objections from his drunk patrons.
“Hey, Whore,” I grin. “What are you doing?”
“Hold on,” she yells. I wait patiently as the background noise slowly fades to a dull buzz. “Okay, what did you say?”
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, we’re at this frat party. The Dragons just won their game so everyone is pumped up, but this party stinks,” she informs me.
“Were you guys going to Xander’s fight tonight?” I ask hopefully, my fingers and toes crossed.