Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Zeus is all over Dimitrov.
He moves so quickly, ducking every punch Dimitrov throws, leaving him punching air.
I can see the frustration building in Dimitrov’s face.
And, from what I saw of his previous fights, if things aren’t going Dimitrov’s way, like a bad loser, he starts fighting dirty.
Bell rings, signaling the end of round one, and they each go back to their corner.
But I can’t relax. I’m on the edge of my seat. I just need Zeus to knock Dimitrov out, so this can be over, and I can take him home and hold him for the rest of the night. And the rest of forever.
The bell signals round two.
Dimitrov comes out fighting and lands a punch on Zeus.
I suck in a sharp breath, shutting my eyes on the impact. But not for long because I need to know that Zeus is okay.
He is. The blow didn’t even break his stride. If anything, it’s fired him up.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
He has Dimitrov on the ropes.
The referee separates them. Then, it’s back on.
It goes this way for three rounds.
And I’ve found my voice, shouting encouragement to Zeus along with Ares, Lo, and Missy. My throat will be hoarse by the end of the night, but I don’t care.
I want Zeus to know I’m in his corner.
Round six.
There’s a shift in the dynamics. It’s almost like Dimitrov took a hit of coke because he comes from that corner like a bull out of a cage. He’s on Zeus, punch after punch, and Zeus is blocking only half of them.
Zeus’s back hits the ropes, and the referee pulls them apart.
“Come on, baby!” I scream. “Knock the bastard on his psychotic ass!”
I hear the rumble of Ares’s laughter from beside me. I glance at him, and he’s grinning at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He smirks. “Just having flashbacks to Zeus’s early fights. You always did have a potty mouth.”
“Just showing my support.” I grin innocently.
“I’m glad he has you back,” he says in a quieter voice.
My grin softens to a smile. “Me, too.” I press my hand to his arm and give it a gentle squeeze.
The negative sound of the crowd whirls my eyes back to Zeus. I see it like it happens in slow motion—Dimitrov’s fist retracting back from Zeus’s face. Zeus staggers back a step and then drops to his hands and knees.
“Noooo!” I cry, my heart free-falling, as I rush forward to the railings separating the crowd from the ring, wanting to vault over them and go to him.
Missy is there beside me. Her arm around me. Then, Ares and Lo are there. They’re yelling, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Blood is roaring in my ears.
Dimitrov is walking around the ring, arms in the air, like he’s won.
The referee is down on his knees, beside Zeus, his mouth at his ear, talking to Zeus.
Get up, baby, please.
A second later, Zeus pushes back up onto his knees. The referee stands. And then Zeus jumps up to his feet.
And I breathe again.
The referee moves to the center of the ring. Zeus and Dimitrov are about to go in again, but the bell rings.
Zeus turns back to his corner, and there’s blood running down his cheek.
No.
“He’s hurt,” I say to Ares.
“It’s just a cut. He’ll be fine.”
“Has this happened before?” I ask.
In Zeus’s fights that I watched when we were younger, no one could get close enough to hit him hard enough to cut him. He’s had his nose broken. But I’ve never seen his skin split from a hit—except for that time in the club, and that guy used a bottle.
Ares’s eyes meet mine. If he’s trying to hide his concern, he’s doing a piss-poor job of it because I can see it loud and clear.
“He broke his nose in the Scott fight, but they went eleven rounds.”
We’re only six in, and he’s bleeding already.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My eyes flash back to Zeus, who’s on the stool in his corner, his eye being tended to. Vaseline is being rubbed around the wound to curb the bleeding. A member of his team squirts water into his mouth.
The bell goes.
Round seven.
Zeus goes in, blazing.
Hitting Dimitrov with a body shot from his left. A punch to the head with his right. Another. And another.
He pounds into Dimitrov, forcing him back onto the ropes.
“Yes! Hit him, baby! Hit him!”
Dimitrov wraps his arms around Zeus’s neck. The referee forces them apart.
But Zeus is straight back in, pounding into Dimitrov. Body. Face. Blow after blow.
Dimitrov stumbles back.
Zeus swings hard, connecting with his head.
The punch so audible, it seems to echo around the stadium.
Dimitrov goes down.
Zeus goes for him again, but the referee stops him, blocking him off.
Dimitrov tries to get up but can’t.
The referee moves over him. His arm comes up, ending the fight.
“Yeeesss!” I scream.
The teams flood the ring.
I want in that ring. I want Zeus.