Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Her threat was simple: if they didn’t want another Lucien-type scandal on their hands, they’d cut Scotty Green and let Smiley’s sponsor themselves. If not, she’d go straight to the media and the cops, turn his ass in for pedaling PEDs, and blame the Circuit for not doing more. They could kiss season two of the Circuit goodbye with all the other problems they’d had this year.
Funny how a little bad press could be a great motivator.
The “cut of the sponsorship money” we offered helped. 100K to buy in as a replacement sponsor and keep the dirt quiet as long as possible.
Even the bald bastard at the top of the WCC couldn’t say no to that.
“We did it,” Bones echoed. His fight was over in less than a minute. After his win, he kissed his fist and pointed to the sky.
“For Pops,” Lotto agreed. “For all of us.”
“Except this scrub.” Frankie glared at the side of Teo’s head.
Teo held up his hands. “I lasted four rounds against the second-best in the Circuit, okay? Cut me a break for one night!”
“Then go talk to the media,” I said and gestured with my chin to the vultures waiting a few feet away. I didn’t want to deal with them. I just wanted to stay with my people.
“I’ll give you a good name.” Teo laughed and gave me a two-fingered salute.
As soon as he was gone, Ari let out a heavy breath. “I didn’t even fight, but I’m so tired.”
“’Cause we haven’t been able to breathe in days.” Lotto jerked his thumb toward the stands. “Some motherfucker won’t leave us alone.”
I glanced at the crowd. Between the cheering people stood one lone greaseball with two middle fingers up and pointed right in our direction.
Scotty Green hadn’t taken too well to us telling him to fuck off. But he didn’t have much say if he didn’t want to be back in prison.
I blew him a kiss and turned back to my group. Even his stupid shit couldn’t bring me down.
“This is the beginning.” Frankie wrapped an arm around Ari’s shoulders. “We have a two-week break before the semis in San Francisco. And if we want to make it to the final exhibition in Vegas—”
“We have to be in first or second. We know, Frankie,” Bones said. “Damn, can’t we enjoy our win for a bit?”
“Not with the teams who stand in our way.”
I grimaced. Base One Gym, Neurosport, and St. Luka’s were all formidable as fuck. Neurosport wouldn’t be a problem, but beating one of the others? We were going to need more than hopes and prayers. Besides, St. Luka’s was getting plenty of those from their church sponsor.
No, we needed to be better.
But how much better could we really be in a few weeks?
I set a hand on Bones’ shoulder. “What Frankie is trying to say is, we should be proud of everything we’ve done so far.”
“That’s definitely not what he’s saying,” Lotto deadpanned. He took Bones’ hand. “So I’ll say it instead. Pops would be proud.”
“So would Dad,” Ari added with a smile. She reached out for Lotto’s other hand. “And we should be proud of ourselves.”
I nudged Frankie with my shoulder. “Come on. A little smile for your big winners?”
Frankie fought with his lips but ultimately sighed his resignation. “A few days off. Then I’m going for the throat.”
“When do you not?”
“I believe in us.” Ari looked around the group. Tears shone in her beautiful eyes. “We weren’t even supposed to make it this far, but we did.”
“And we’re not finished. Not by a long shot.”
“Then let’s do this damn thing.” I smirked. “The top four’s not gonna know what hit ’em.”
Chapter
Thirty
FRANKIE
Iheld my breath as River stepped into the ring.
This was it.
The past two weeks of training had led to this exact moment.
The semis and either the beginning—or the end—of it all.
We lost to Base One Gym in our first versus fourth match. St. Luka’s beat Neurosport. Right after, Base One wiped the floor with Neurosport, kicking them to a confirmed fourth.
That meant winning here was our only hope.
We had to beat St. Luka’s, or we could kiss our careers goodbye.
And based on River’s determined expression, he wasn’t leaving the damn ring without a W.
He tapped gloves with Vinny, and the bell sounded.
Punch, block, kick, uppercut, jab, duck, leg sweep. Over and over, they traded blows until the bell sounded and the round ended. I massaged River’s shoulders while Ari fed him water.
“Fucker’s got a mean left jab,” River said. “He’s trying to break my ribs.”
“Then break his in return,” I said.
“If he dies, he dies,” Ari mimicked Drago from Rocky 3 before grinning. “But he has to die first, okay? We kind of need you here.”
River winked and threw her his towel. “And I can’t disappoint you, can I?”
I rolled my eyes and stepped down for the next round.