Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
One girl called out for Nonno, and that meant grandfather in Italian, if I wasn’t mistaken. To which Enzo laughed heartily and waved at the little girl.
Sick fucks.
Close your eyes, girl. You don’t wanna see this.
I shut myself down, one emotion at a time, and rolled my shoulders.
Four men walked up onstage, and the man with the microphone spoke with finality in his voice. The speeches were over, the fight was about to begin, and those four guys formed a line to their last moment in life.
I inhaled deeply and felt myself ignite with burning hatred toward Enzo and his disgusting goons.
“No rigging,” Enzo told me. “Like I promised, no? Best of luck, gringo.”
I clenched my jaw and watched everyone leave the platform, aside from those four men.
There was a buzz in the air.
I assessed the guys, most of them my age. Jeans and tees. Someone stripped them of guns and knives. They pounded one another’s backs and reminded me of frat boys giving one another a pep talk before a keg chug.
I bent down briefly to brush off my feet some more, and I pulled up my sweats past my calves.
So be it.
I couldn’t be sure what was going through River’s and Reese’s minds—and the others’, if they were, in fact, here—but I had to believe they were thinking about the civilians. The children.
That’s what I’d be thinking about anyway.
And I figured…I could cut this “warm-up” real short.
I could go all out and hopefully terrify the goddamn mothers in the stands, push them to take their kids out of here.
Enzo reappeared up on the highest patio, where the lights turned guests into more than shadows, and I saw an entourage of people leave the area. An old man who could barely walk by himself. They really had it all here, didn’t they? A geriatric ward and a day care. Once the old fucker had been escorted away, Enzo and his closest turned back toward me with expectant smiles on their faces.
Enjoy your show, you rotten bastard.
Volunteer fighter number one was the tallest of the bunch, and his cocky smirk meant he was a naïve fucker.
He stepped forward to the sounds of applause and his name being shouted. For every inch of space that disappeared between us, an ounce of life-sucking darkness took over my soul.
I’m sorry, dude.
I knew I didn’t look like much. That was the point. I was average height, bordering on lanky, blond, and blue-eyed. I was fit, though, and my upper body was covered in ink. Other than that, no edge. No reason to scare people off. Which was their downfall.
About six feet separated us when he put his guard up.
I’d barely moved a muscle. I just eyed him.
I filled my lungs with another deep breath, and I saw the corners of his eyes tightening. His muscles contracting. When he lunged at me a beat later, I was sucked back into my old life, and everything around me went black. I sidestepped and spun around, delivering a high kick to the back of his head. He cried out and hissed. Adrenaline rushed through me, like a dam had broken, and I grabbed him by the neck and pushed him forcefully closer to the edge of the platform.
Watch this, kids.
The guy stumbled and steadied himself, and he charged with a murderous glare.
I let him pack a punch to my face so I could drive my fist into his liver. He bowled over with a choked sound, the fight already over. Then I grabbed a fistful of his hair, held him up, and punched him twice in the face, blood and teeth flying out of his mouth and onto the stands.
The uproar was instant. Men yelled furiously, women screamed in shock, children started crying in fear.
I clenched my teeth so hard I thought I’d crush them, and I dumped the guy stomach down and planted my knee across his shoulder blades. With a tight grip on the guy’s hair, I stared up toward the patios.
Stop me. Please stop me.
Enzo merely smiled and rested his hands on the balustrade. Go on.
I wanted to kill him. It was the one desire that flooded me. I had to. He couldn’t survive the night. He didn’t belong in our world.
In the corner of my eye, I caught the slightest movement. A man flicking his fingers at the remaining three guys waiting their turn. Fuck. He was letting them all come at me at once. Fine. I grabbed the first guy’s head and smashed his skull against the marble floor, then faced my new threats.
Guard up, low crouch, I waited—and not for long. Their eyes burned with rage from seeing their friend get killed, and they charged together, all three at once. I sucked in a quick breath, my heart kicking into a race. When one swung a fist, another tried to shove me; I ducked and punched into a rib cage. I stopped seeing bodies, humans, and saw only target points. Weak spots. Vital organs. One of them kicked me hard in the side, and I grunted and threw myself at another. A knee to his dick, a fist to his throat. Two quick strikes before I was hauled off him. I let out a strangled curse and twisted my body out of the guy’s grip, and I swung my legs around on the floor, knocking him over.