Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Chapter 5
Bones
Fucking hell.
I staggered outside toward my mailbox. The sunlight was so bright it stung my eyes—which was the result of not sleeping for days on end. I preferred Seattle’s rainy days. What the hell was this ball of flame in the sky anyway?
I was forced to cover my gaze as I moved my aching body across the lawn, but this gesture was also intended to prevent the rest of the world from seeing me, too. If I could just stay in my little den of depression forever, I would.
I used to be that loud, outgoing bad boy no one wanted to fuck with, but now, ever since the downfall of my booming career—for which I only had myself to blame—I didn’t want anyone to even glance my way. I used to love all eyes on me, the screams from the crowd, the female attention… Now I wanted none of that. I wanted to lock myself away, to hide from the rest of the world, without anyone seeing me.
And to make it worse, my head hurt like hell from last night.
As the mailbox swung open, my heart sank and I groaned at a whole wad of unpaid bills. I used to have money to burn. Now—with only a few fights here and there to keep myself afloat—I had close to nothing. Not many people wanted me at an event, and the few fights Lotto managed to get us invited to were barely enough to keep me going. And it wasn’t like either of us had enough money to bet on my win to make a difference in the end. I knew I’d win. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was no one knew whether I’d throw a fight.
It was a shame my lavish lifestyle had been reduced to such a mediocre one, but this was exactly what I should have expected when I got myself into this mess.
Noticing a car engine getting closer—too close to be going anywhere else other than my house—I spun around and crossed my arms in annoyance. Everyone who knew me well was more than aware they needed to contact me in advance before showing up. Who the fuck would drop in on me unannounced?
I leaned in a little to take in the long, platinum hair of a woman gracing my presence. I tried to ignore the way my body reacted to how attractive she was. A weird fission of electricity coursed through me at the way her curves looked as she got out of the car and approached me.
My bloody angel.
Did the hit to my head last night cause permanent damage, and I was now hallucinating?
Here she was—minus my blood splattered on her.
When she got closer, revealing the longest, sexiest legs I’d ever laid my eyes on, I was hooked. She brushed a wayward hair away from her face to take me in, showing off a gorgeous pair of sparkling blue eyes and a heart-stopping smile. Blue eyes, colorfully tatted skin—a mixture of innocence and edge that created a blend of perfection.
Holy fuck, she was the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a very long time, if not ever.
“Hello?” I asked curiously, closing the distance between us. Why in the hell was she here? How did she find me? Why would she want to find me?
“Hello.” Her voice was sultry, nearly hypnotic, which was when my gaze flickered down to her stark pencil skirt and tight black tank. This woman was here for business with her outfit that merged professionalism and rockstar, which meant trouble for me.
“Here to give me your dry-cleaning bill?” I instantly regretted my words, when all she did was smirk. I wasn’t a funny man. I had no idea why I tried to be one.
She scanned me from head to toe with those eyes of hers.
“I’m the owner of Smiley’s, and I’d like to discuss having you come train at our gym. See if we can get you back in the cage. Form a lucrative partnership.”
“Funny,” I said with a huff.
“I’m not joking.” She frowned and some of the warmth left her face. “This is a serious offer, and I want to discuss a possible contract with you. See if we can work toward getting you in all the top events.” She cocked her head with a small smirk. “If you still have what it takes, that is.”
“Smiley’s is owned by Smiley Dexter.” I remembered the bald Irish man with an epic temper, but the skill of a trainer every fighter wanted. He was a legend, and I would have cut off my right testicle to have the man train me. “And cage fighting is beneath the man. He’s a boxing legend.”
“He’s dead,” she said evenly. “I’m his daughter and now the owner.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.” How had I not known that news? But considering how my life had gone to hell, it was explainable.