Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Underhill runs over and cleans my face, wiping the blood out of my eye. “Good job,” he says.
I nod, waiting for the decision.
Breathing hard, I stare at my feet. Bright red drip, drip, drips onto the floor. Huh. Is that coming from me? Am I still bleeding?
I had to have won, right? Especially the last round. I landed more strikes and I dominated the ground. If Naptime hadn’t suckered me with his fake-ass tap out, I definitely would’ve won. The judges saw that, right?
“We have a winner by split decision!” the announcer shouts.
“What?” I look up and frown, pain slashing through my forehead.
Underhill’s scowling at the ref. “That’s not possible. Royal won. It’s so fucking obvious.”
A sick feeling rolls through my stomach that has nothing to do with the blood loss.
The announcer reads the results. The first one awards Naptime the win by a razor thin margin. The second one is for me by a much larger spread. The third goes to Naptime.
Shock rolls through my body in waves. But I smooth my face into a mask of indifference. I turn, arm outstretched, even though I’d rather chew rocks than shake Naptime’s filthy, dirty, cheating hand. But it’s the honorable thing to do. Win or lose.
Naptime’s dazed eyes drop to my hand.
His body sways.
He clutches his shoulder and keels over, hitting the mat with a thud that reverberates up my legs.
Did he have a heart attack?
I look past him to the three judges sitting at a table right outside the ring. Their jaws drop and their eyes widen. None of them will meet my stare.
Kiki rushes into the cage, her entrance so dramatic, it deserves its own theme song. She falls to her knees and starts wailing, her tear-streaked cheeks aimed at the cameras.
Guess now I know who she hooked up with.
Matt actually steps over Naptime’s prone body and shoves a microphone in my face. “Lost the fight and the girl. How do you feel, Stonewall?”
I glare at him and bite back the fuck you I’m dying to spit out.
How do I feel?
Like this was rigged all along.
No. Don’t say that. It’ll sound like the whining of a bitter loser.
Chin up.
“I feel good.” I force a pained smile. Blood and sweat sting my eyes and blur my vision. “I fought hard. Naptime was a strong opponent.” And also a dirty fucking cheater. I glance over my shoulder. “I guess when he wakes up from his nap you can ask him what he thinks.”
Matt’s jaw drops and I take that moment to walk away. If he’d put the mic in my hand, I’d throw it at his feet. I’m out and don’t give a fuck if he’s done with his asinine questions or not.
Venom meets me at the cage door. My body sways to the side as I step down. Huh. Those steps didn’t seem so wobbly when I went into the cage.
I plant my feet on the concrete floor of the arena, but the wobbliness doesn’t go away. Is this place built above a train station or something?
“You all right, bud?” Venom frowns and peers into my eyes.
“Fine.”
His frown deepens.
“Split decision. Utter bullshit,” Venom mutters. “You clearly had the better moves. You landed double the hits. You dominated him on the ground. He tried to flop away like an eel.” He shakes his head. “This is how they wanted it to go.”
That’s my gut feeling too, but I’m a little too close to the matter to be objective.
“What the fuck?” Bear Trap yells, running up to us but staring at the commotion still going on inside the cage. “There’s no way he won. Zero. None. The fuck is wrong with those judges?”
“Let it go,” I mumble. There’s nothing I hate more than a sore loser. The judges gave the fight to Naptime. I refuse to argue or complain. It won’t change the outcome. It’ll only make me look like a whiner.
Underhill’s voice booms through the crowd. We turn in time to catch him shoving the ref against the cage wall.
Apparently other people have no problem arguing about the result. Heh. Who knew Underhill cared about me that much?
As the adrenaline slowly leaks from my body, pain races in to replace it. Confusion scatters my thoughts. Blood drips from my chin, rolling down my chest.
“Stonewall?” Venom shouts. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
Underhill’s somehow next to me again. He wraps a thick arm around my waist, holding me up. “Let’s get him checked out. He needs stitches.”
“On my face?” I mutter.
“Yeah, you’ll still be pretty. Don’t worry.” Harsh laughter brushes close to my ear. “You fucked Naptime up good. He’s still out cold.”
“Then how is he the winner?” Venom shouts.
“Don’t get me started,” Underhill seethes.
I dig deep but can’t find any compassion for Naptime’s condition. “He fought dirty,” I mumble.
“Yeah. I saw the fake tap out,” Underhill says.