Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
For fuck’s sake.
I grunt at the blow but don’t move an inch. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Didn’t you get enough humiliation when Naptime got you in that bulldog choke?” Venom asks.
“Fuck that. I finished him.”
Woolly slides his fist in the air in a jerk-off motion. “I’m sure you can go finish him again right now if you want.”
I duck my head and laugh.
Bull’s hands strike my chest again. “Think that’s funny?”
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” I warn.
Like a toddler who skipped his afternoon nap, he pokes me in the chest. “Touching you.” Poke. “Touching you.” Poke. Poke.
You’ve got to be kidding. I flick my gaze past Bull’s shoulder. One of the camera guys from our outing has his lens on us. Two of the regular house camera operators scurry over to fan out around our circle. Someone else aims a beam of bright, white light our way. I squint and shift to the side. Wouldn’t want them to miss my fist cracking Bull’s jaw.
“What’s wrong, Stonewall?” Bull taunts. “You know I’ll kill you in the cage.”
“Of what?” I open my mouth wide and yawn. “Boredom?”
“Let’s go. Let’s go right now.” Warm flecks of spittle land on my face. I force my body to stay rigid and ready. “You can’t knock out The Bull!” He steps close again.
My hand curls into a low fist and slices through the air in an upward motion.
“You can’t—”
Blam!
The uppercut lands square on Bull’s chin.
His heavy body crumples to the floor like a sack of wet cement, the impact reverberating through the room. Pain slashes across my knuckles while satisfaction rings in my chest.
Venom whistles. “That has to be the cleanest knockout I’ve ever seen. You didn’t even throw a jab first.”
I shake out my hand.
“That’s twice,” Woolly shakes his head, “no, three times, he’s stepped to someone and been put in his place.” He glances at Bull’s prone body. “Think he’s learned his lesson?”
“Probably not.” I study the unconscious fighter, taking note of the slight rise and fall of his chest.
Jordan rushes over and kneels next to Bull, checking his pulse. When he’s satisfied, he peers up at me, widens his eyes and ever so slightly tips his head toward the camera. I blink into the glare of the lights.
Better make the most of this.
Leaning into this cheesy spectacle, I swallow my dignity, flick my gaze to the camera closest to me, flash a cocky grin, and say, “Maybe the third time’s the charm.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Griff
Six weeks later…
And then there were two fighters in the house.
One by one, the other guys were eliminated.
Naptime and I are the only ones left.
No matter what, I’ll be going home with a hefty chunk of change.
But I want the big prize. What the hell was the point of this torture if I don’t come home the champion? The weight of that possibility presses in on me from all sides, keeping me awake at night, and fueling me throughout the day.
Nervous energy pulses through my veins. I’m charged and ready. Almost frenzied with the need to pound my fists into Naptime’s annoying face and go home.
Now that it’s just the two of us, the show’s officially keeping us separated. The early alarms have stopped too. Underhill collects me every morning and makes me run laps outside, then we train in the gym. There he has two instructors—one black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and one boxing coach—work me to exhaustion. They push me to my limits, leaving me exhausted but ready to do it all over again the next day.
This morning, someone knocks on my door earlier than expected. I crack open the door. Bright lights sear my eyes. I blink and squint. Through the glare Venom and Bear Trap come into view.
“Holy shit.” I stagger backward and pull the door wider. “What are you two doing here?”
“Here to train you for the big fight.” Venom steps over the threshold.
After I won our match, by using a submission technique he helped me perfect, I didn’t think Venom would return, let alone return to help me.
Is it a trap? Part of a larger plot to sabotage me? To get even for losing?
Nah, Venom hates Naptime as much as I do. Even helped me shave Naptime’s head one night after the jackass got wasted and passed out on the patio.
And even though I won our match, Venom had still hugged me goodbye and wished me luck.
This fucking show has made me question everything.
I can’t afford to get lost down a rabbit hole of doubt and mistrust.
Bear Trap follows Venom inside and pulls me in for—what else—a big bear hug. His ring name makes so much more sense. I’m almost sorry we never had a chance to face off in the cage.
“You’re back too?” I slap his back and motion him farther inside, to make room for the two cameramen.