Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“And?” Jasper was my best friend, closer to me than my own blood brother, but he was shit at giving out compliments.
He smirked and shrugged. “And I didn’t want her to hurt him right before the right.”
We shared a laugh at that, knowing that Kat was twice as fierce as a woman in her position needed to be, a benefit of growing up with three bad ass brothers. And two equally rowdy honorary brothers. “She’s a killer, in the boardroom or in the streets and we need this fight to happen. Ready?”
“Yeah,” I sighed and nodded, knowing what needed to be done. It was my job to keep Emmett distracted while Jasper had a private chat with Rob. We couldn’t risk my brother walking in on that convo. I hated the deception, but in this case it was necessary. Emmett wouldn’t like it; he wouldn’t agree to it, and he didn’t have to. As long as Rob did.
“Got some shit to share with him anyway.”
Jasper paused and turned to me. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not more than once,” I snorted and clapped him on the back. “But thanks, Dr. Phil.”
Jasper pulled the glass door open with one hand and flipped me off with the other. “Well you know…I’m here.”
“I know, man. Thanks.” I stepped inside as the cool air washed over me, followed immediately by the stench of sweat and nylon. “Let’s do this.”
Jasper gave a sharp nod. “And then we can head back to Midnight Mass for some fish & chips. And whiskey.”
“Helluva workday,” I said with a grin as we walked through the gym, Jasper’s presence causing a wave of tension. The grin remained because every day I woke up finding it hard to believe that my workday consisted of being at my best friend’s side, shooting the shit, and having each other’s backs in all things.
It was a fucking great way to earn a living.
“Gotta earn those dollars somehow,” he grinned. “No more than an hour. I hope.”
It was then that I realized that Jasper was actually worried he might have to apply pressure to Ravager. Not that he ever backed down from a confrontation or a fight, but he preferred to be a businessman when it came to business. And a brawler when it came to the real business.
It also told me that I needed to be on my toes and extra observant because this shit with the return of Brendan Rhymer was fucking with him more than he let on.
Just before we came to the row of octagons, Jasper went right and I went left to Emmett’s office and knocked. Hard.
“What is it,” he barked, sounding so much like our old man I had to do a double-take before I opened the door and poked my head inside.
“Got a minute?”
Worry instantly clouded Emmett’s gaze as he nodded and waved me on. “Yeah. What’s up?”
I stepped inside slowly and shut the door. This was private news best shared behind closed doors.
“My mom ran into yours in lockup at County recently. Wasn’t sure if you’d heard from her or not.”
It was the same story with both of our mothers, in and out of jail on petty charges, mostly stemming from addiction. After a while it just became normal.
“I haven’t,” he said warily. This was often the intro to some really bad shit.
The laugh that escaped my mouth was bitter more than amused because we both lucked out in the parental department. Moms were both drunk junkies who dabbled in hard drugs and our dad was a dealer who dabbled in everything, legal or otherwise. Sadie had saved us both, ironically.
“Well, you’ll be happy to know she’s alive and well. Picked up on a theft warrant, stole some shit from one of those boutiques inside the Venetian.”
Emmett let out his own bitter laugh and shook his head. “Thanks for letting me know. How’s your mom?”
“Just got out and thinking about turning her life around. Again. Got a new boyfriend so I’ll hold my breath in anticipation of the wedding announcement or the death notification.” With her, I never could tell. “How’s fight training going?”
“Fine. Mostly.” He sighed, weighing whether or not to tell me what was on his mind. It was either because he was afraid I’d tell Jasper, or he was more afraid I’d handle it on my own.
“Well?” I asked, impatient to get moving.
“Something is up with Rob. I can’t say for sure, but I know it’s something. His fighting is fine, on point as usual but his attitude. It’s different this week. More aggressive but not pre-fight aggression.”
I knew exactly what he meant about pre-fight aggression because we’d gone a few rounds in the days leading up to Emmett’s first few fights.
“Get in the ring with him. Make sure it’s not just nerves. Worked for you.”
“And risk injuring the headline fighter days before the main event? You trying to get me kneecapped?”