Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I’m a fucking fraud. Most of the time I walk around feeling like a fucking joke. I’m a total fake and Alex has put so much damn faith in me…
“Where the fuck is your head at?!” Dale screams in my face and thumps me on the head with the focus mitts.
I shake the thump off and glare at him. I don’t even know what to say because he’s right, I wasn’t here mentally. I should be training not daydreaming.
There’s less than two weeks left until my fight and I’m not fucking ready. If I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to be destroyed.
“Do you want this, String Bean?”
“Of course I want it,” I say automatically.
“Then why does it feel like you’ve checked out? Ever since your boy toy won his match you’ve been fucking slacking!”
Again, I’m at a loss of what to say because he’s right. Ever since Alex won his match a couple of weeks ago, all the pressure and focus has been put on me and I’ve buckled under the weight.
I think watching Alex’s match has mentally fucked with me. It was so brutal, so fucking insane, I feel like all this training I’ve been doing is nothing but playing pretend. Nothing we do here in the gym even comes close to the real thing.
“Is that how it is?” Dale asks with a look of disgust. “You’re giving up before you even step in the cage?”
“No.” I frown at him.
“I didn’t take you for a fucking quitter, Christy.”
“I’m not a quitter,” I growl, too damn aggravated to be surprised that he called me by my real name.
“Could have fucking fooled me!”
“Fuck you,” I snap and rip the Velcro off the gloves I’m wearing. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you,” Dale says with a snarl and uses the focus mitts to shove me in the chest. “Fighters like you are a dime a dozen around this place.”
I stumble backwards and seriously consider taking a swing at his ugly face.
“You come in here and put on a big show.”
He gives me another shove.
“You get everyone’s hopes up.”
He tries to shove me again but I step back.
“But when it comes down to it, you don’t have the fucking heart!”
I shake my head at him and rip my left glove off my hand.
“You’re just another chick trying to make a buck off her pretty face.”
I throw the glove at his head.
He easily dodges the glove and his eyes glare at me. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”
“How’s what going to be?” I ask through gritted teeth as I rip the other glove off my hand.
“You’re going to mooch off of Beast for the rest of your life?”
If looks could kill, I’d murder him with my eyes.
“Oh, did I finally hit a nerve? Or is it that time of the month?”
“Fuck you!” I scream and launch myself at him, trying to take him down to the mat with me.
But Dale has years of experience on me and must have been expecting my reaction. He easily dodges my hands and even laughs as I scream in frustration when I can’t get a grab on him.
“That’s it! Get fucking angry!” he yells as I stalk him around the cage. “Don’t just take the shit they throw at you.”
Launching forward, he suddenly shoves me backwards with the mitts, nearly knocking me on my ass.
“Channel that fucking rage, don’t run away.”
With a furious snarl, I drop my chin and charge him, finally bringing him down to the floor.
He bursts out laughing as I land on top of him and then we roll together with him shoving the mitts in my face as I try to throw punches at his head. I end up taking more hits to the face than I dish out.
“Am I interrupting something?” Chase asks.
“Nah, we’re done here,” Dale says, rolling off of me.
On my back, I pant, staring up at the ceiling. Was Dale serious? Or did he just say all that shit to get a rise out of me?
Dale rips the focus mitts off his hands and then offers me a hand up. I stare at the hand like it’s going to bite me.
“Come on, String Bean, we’re done for the day.”
I knock his hand away and get to my feet on my own.
Chase chuckles and shakes his head as we walk over to him. “Hey Beast, get your ass over here!” he calls out.
When Alex joins us, Chase gets serious. Looking at me, he says, “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”
I could use some good news so I say, “Give me the good news first.”
Chase nods and flashes that creepy reaper grin of his. “The good news is that two of the four women who entered the tournament have dropped out.”
“Yeah?” I frown.