Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
The towel slips just a bit and I see his eyes. He’s looking forward, not towards the camera, not seeming to register the craziness the announcers are going on about.
“I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a fighter come into the cage with no entrance song,” Marv remarks. “He’s coming in with black shorts and no fanfare. His team is wearing black shirts with the word ‘Believe’ across the front and a simple ‘Crew Gentry’ across the back. Compare that to the red, flashy shorts and self-aggrandizing music of Davidson and we couldn’t have more of a dichotomy in opponents.”
“That’s what makes this fight so interesting, Marv.”
Crew makes it to the opening of the cage. A man in a black suit steps in front of him. Crew shows him his mouthpiece and his gloves. He nods at something the man says and steps through the metal links.
My stomach curls. As the station goes into their statistics, I run into the bathroom and lose the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
FIFTY-NINE
CREW
The door to the cage clinks shut behind me. I look across the mat and I’m face-to-face with the motherfucker I’ve been dying to get my hands on again.
He’s jumping up and down in a boyish attempt to be intimidating, hitting himself in the face and yelling. It sort of makes me laugh, but it also makes me want to beat the fuck out of him worse. I can’t tell if he’s doing it for the cameras or for me.
I shake my hands at my sides and bend a few times to loosen my legs, careful through this process not to remove my glare from his face. I don’t need to jump up and down like a gymnast to intimidate him. I just need to let him see my eyes. That’s all the intimidation I need because unlike him, I’m not a circus performer. I’m a fighter.
The referee walks into the center of the cage and motions for us to join him. Hunter grins his cocky grin as he comes at me and I meet it with a cold, dead gaze. The same gaze I’ve been giving him since I got in the cage.
This isn’t a game to me. This is a confluence of events, some shitty aligning of the stars, and an opportunity for me to put things the way they should’ve been anyway.
The ref puts his hands between us and the mic lowers from the ceiling. The crowd is deafening, roaring with excitement. I look at Hunter’s face across from me and the noise drowns out. It’s just me and him.
“Gentlemen,” the ref says. “I want a good, clean fight. Listen to my commands and defend yourselves at all times. Touch gloves and go back to your corners.”
Davidson extends his gloves and I touch them. He pushes back and flinches at me, acting like he’s going to come across the invisible line and start the fight right fucking now. I hear him laugh.
“Fuck, man, your girl tasted good. I can’t wait to put my mouth on that little pussy of hers.”
Pure rage soars through me. My arm immediately snaps forward, aiming at his face. Hunter’s expecting it, though, and is already a few steps back and out of reach. I barrel forward, ready to end this motherfucker right now. The referee jumps between us, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Gentry, enough. Get to your corner,” he says, inches from my face.
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” Davidson shouts across the mat. “I’ll do that right after I bury you beside your dead brother.”
I try to charge forward again, but the ref keeps pushing me back. “Just a minute, Gentry.”
Satisfied that I’m far enough away to not get to my opponent before the bell actually signals it’s time for it, he turns to Davidson. “Keep it clean, Davidson.”
Only then do I register the voices of Sal and Will behind me, almost drowned out by the noise of the stadium. The room is hot, blisteringly hot, the energy curling through the air almost electric. The crowd feels the anticipation of what’s to come, ready to see us end a vendetta years in the making.
“Gentry, you fuckin’ listen to me,” Sal shouts behind me. I glance over my shoulder, his fingers laced through the fence. “You keep your head on your shoulders out there. Let his mouth fuel you, but don’t let it make you fuckin’ crazy. We have a plan and you better stick to it, kid.”
The ref is back in the center, his arms out in front of him. The bell dings and it’s on.
JULIA
I leap to my feet at the sound of the bell. I don’t know whether to yell or cry, my wits strung so tightly I can barely even function at all. I lace my fingers together in front of my face.