Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
All of this bullshit over money. How many people has he killed just to hang on to the numbers in his bank account?
I clench my fists, some of the anger spiraling through me tighter. Yes, I need to break someone's face, that will make me feel better.
When we reached the abandoned Sears center I hop out of the car, tuck my hands into my pockets, and wander in the direction of voices. It doesn't take me long to find it, like the kid said, it's a damn party out here. They aren't even trying to hide it. Interesting. I wonder who is running this and how I might get involved if I need this in the future.
I cut through the small crowd outside. There’s people smoking, conversing, drinking beer, and even some who are merely standing there surveying the crowd. I spot one guy standing at the edge of the crowd.
He's a big dude but I meet his menacing gaze head-on. "I want to fight."
Carefully, he drops his gaze, sizing me up from boot to brow. "Oakmount's golden boy wants to get his hands dirty with us? Should we be honored?"
I narrow my eyes. "I don't care what the fuck you are, or who the fuck you are. I came here for a fight so if you aren’t the person I talk to about one then this conversation is over.”
There's a murmuring voice in his earpiece. I barely pick up the buzz but I can't make out the words. "Fine, be in the circle at nine. I'll make sure we put on a good show."
"Rules?"
His eyes narrow this time. "You don't seem like the type that follows rules."
I shrug. "When it benefits me, I do, sure."
"Don't kill each other is about the only rule. Unfortunately death is difficult to cover up and comes with a lot of paperwork. Now fuck off."
I smile, all white teeth, and back away toward the circle and the sound of pounding of flesh on flesh.
The crowd is a mix of upper class in my circles, upper class and legal circles I suppose, and lower class, who are mostly the fighters and what looks like bookies by the way they holler at the crowd and toss cash around.
While waiting I keep my eyes peeled for anyone I might know, or anyone I should know. Thankfully I don’t recognize anyone here, but that doesn't mean there isn’t someone who won’t go running to my father when they discover who I am.
My attention swings back to the ring. It’s small, and only delineated by an LED circle on the floor marking the boundary and lighting up the fighters in a red hazy glow.
Blood splatters back on the opponents and I can't help but stare, my adrenaline spiking, anticipation curling deep in my gut.
I spot one of the Blackthorn football players across the circle and shoot him the bird. He took down Lee in one of our games this season and all of us have had our eye on him for payback. I wonder if this will be my lucky opportunity.
His knuckles are wrapped, he’s in basketball shorts and a tank top. His features are tight, and serious while I'm still in my henley, jacket, and jeans. I don't need to change to kick his fucking ass into the hard-packed dirt.
It feels like it takes forever but eventually the guy I spoke to steps into the circle, his eyes search the crowd and when they land on me he nods, his head and waves me in. The second I step over the line the football player I'd been watching wanders into the circle with a smirk.
"What do we have here? A little far from home, aren't you Marshall?"
I shrug and study him, looking for any signs of weakness, anything that might give an edge or advantage.
"What made you decide to come and rub shoulders with us? Doesn’t daddy have more important things for you to be doing?"
I shrug off his words, while on the inside I’m seething with rage. “Daddy doesn't have shit to do, because he doesn’t own me.” I growl.
His eyes narrow with suspicion like he’s expecting me to say more. When I don't give it to him he shifts to face me, his fists curled.
"Are we finally done talking?"
Now the lights shift brighter, and I close the distance between us. "If you want to throw the first punch, you know to make it a little more even. I won’t judge you. I know you’re used to taking cheap shots."
"You fuckin..." he swings and I lean back to dodge the hard right hook. All I can do is grin, taunting him. We dance around each other for a minute and I take my first shot, my fist connecting hard with his ribs.
Oh fuck the give under my knuckles is fucking satisfying.