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)
He pursed his lips like he’d eaten a lemon. All traces of his cockiness were gone, replaced by anger in his glare. I almost felt bad for him and Brock. Two top dogs taken down by a yapping chihuahua.
“And who’s gonna take our place?” Brock argued. “St. Luka’s? They can’t hold a candle to us. Your fight’s gonna be hard as fuck to sell to investors and bookies.”
“Actually, I think the opposite.” Lotto smiled. “No one wants to see a clear winner. Base One Gym has been on the top this entire time. But St. Luka’s and Smiley’s have an even record. Who knows who will win that match-up? I’m sure the bookies in Vegas will eat it up.”
“Brock and I are clean,” Mitchell tried. He glared at Terrence, who kept his head down. “Kick him out. We can find a third before Vegas.”
“The contract says ‘any team’. That means all three of you.”
“You fucking punk bitch,” Brock growled. “Too pussy to take us in the ring, so you’re trying to kick us out for good?”
“We’re playing by the rules,” I said. “Always have been. But hey, there’s always Heathens Hollow. You can take our place.”
“You smug bastard—”
Mitchell put a hand on Brock’s chest and pushed him back. “Leave it. He’s not worth it. Now or back then.” He glared at me. “Step into the ring next time you show up. We’ll see what spews more shit, your ass or your mouth.”
“Sure, Meteor. In the meantime, you can watch us from the Vegas sidelines. Say hi to Troy for me.”
Mitchell clenched his fists so hard they vibrated. I probably should have been nicer. I could imagine Ari frowning at me once I told her this story. But that was how shit in the underground went. You couldn’t afford to be “nice.” The nicest thing Meteor and Firebrand ever did for me was knocking my ass out so I didn’t have to take another one of their punches.
Now Jace and Misty Perk could deal with their ire. Hopefully, Troy would let us in to see that in action.
“We still don’t have any solid evidence,” Mustgrave announced, “but as this is the finals, we planned to do follow-up drug tests regardless.”
“Wait a minute, you said only at the beginning of the season,” Terrence argued.
I smirked. Got him.
“If you’re clean, why does it matter?” My smirk only grew when he glowered at me. “Smiley’s will do it. Coaching staff and all. We have nothing to hide.”
“I will need to speak with the rest of the board about our… riveting conversation.” Mustgrave played with his mustache and frowned. “We will be in touch for any further inquiries. If you are clear, you will receive your bonus for making the top four and publicity fees for endorsements and advertising.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Billows.” Lotto tipped his head.
We turned to the door to leave, but I couldn’t help but throw over my shoulder at Base One Gym, “See you never, dicks.”
Mitchell and Brock shouted at my back, but I ignored them.
Each step out of Mustgrave’s office lightened the tension in my shoulders. By the time we were back in the auditorium, I felt like I could fly the entire way back to Smiley’s.
“We’re totally fucked if you’re wrong, Frankie,” Lotto said. “If it’s us vs. Base One in Vegas, they’re going to be out for blood.”
“It won’t be. I’m not wrong.”
“Maybe we should pray like St. Luka’s. Or hire some priests to bless us before the tournament.”
“No thanks. We don’t need blessings. We got here from our own damn talent.”
“And luck.”
“Which is perfect for Vegas,” I smirked. “Come on. Now that the fun is over, let’s go home and see our family.”
Chapter
Thirty-Four
ARI
The crowd around me roared. Spectators shouted at the fighters in the ring. Others shook the metal bars keeping the cage closed. Drinks spilled; money was flung all over as people made last-minute bets.
I drew a deep breath.
God, I missed the underground.
The Circuit was one thing, but this?
This felt like home.
Jace Perk—or as he dubbed himself, “Jester”—juked away from Meteor’s jab. His returned punch barely scrapped Meteor’s side. Meteor kicked his leg, and Jace fell to the mat. Before he could get up, Meteor pounced. He slammed blow after blow against Jace’s head, blood splattering against the white mat.
When Jace tapped out, the people around me screamed and jeered.
I chuckled.
Heathens Hollow hadn’t changed one bit.
It was surreal to be standing here with nothing on the line but a few extra dollars. The previous time we set foot here, I was the one bloody and bruised in the ring. Bones and River had faced off to become the champion. Now they were champions together.
Number one in the West Coast Circuit.
And ready to tackle St. Luka’s in Vegas.
River leaned into me, his voice velvety smooth, even over the shouting announcer. “Thank fuck we aren’t fighting them next week. Meteor would put my ass in a coma. Not exactly the way I want to go out.”