Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
He exhales. “The entire state of Mississippi will tear him apart piece by piece if he screws with their hometown Magnolia boy.”
A muscle flexes in my jaw. Yeah, I’m a hometown boy with nothing but the clothes on my back.
Kai’s face is impassive as he studies me from across the ring. Big, mean, and full of vitriol, he’s one of the most formidable offensive players in the country. He stalks over to us, his eyes low as they take in every facet of my physique.
He stops in front of me and just stands there, a curl to his lip. “Never seen you without all the padding,” he tells me, a sly tone to his voice. “Not impressed.”
I shrug. “Impressive is when I kick your ass back to Oxford.”
He tosses his head back and lets loose with a booming laugh before quickly sobering and leveling me with a cold stare. “You’re going back to Waylon in a body bag. I’ve been doing this a long time, and you’re the perfect little pretty boy for me to toss around today.” He flexes his arms, bending his elbows and flexing his muscles in a strong man-style showoff as he does a little pirouette in front of me. “You can’t beat this, pretty boy. I’m gonna kill you.” There’s a wild glint to his eyes, and part of me believes he wants to.
I force a shrug, playing it cool. He’s trying to rile me up, and I can’t let him. “We beat you on the field this year, Kai, and I’m going to beat you in that ring.” I tap my head. “See, you may have those big steroid muscles going on, but I’m smarter.”
He sneers at me as he gets up in my face. Someone from the crowd gasps as we catch the attention of the betters.
I arch a brow, not flinching. “Scary. Now fuck off and wait for the bell to ring.”
He barks out that bellowing laugh, flips around, and stomps away.
I study him, trying to figure out what his strengths and weaknesses are. He has me on size, but that could be an advantage if I’m faster.
I stretch out and begin my routine of small punches. I flick my eyes over to Ryker, who has a deep scowl on his face. “I got this, Mama Ryker. Just be here when I’m done.”
He lets out a long exhalation as he studies me, his hand sliding over his jaw. “Always, man. I’m not going anywhere until this shit is done.”
Kai is killing me.
I take a punch straight to the jaw and it sends me reeling. I hit the ground on my ass and blink up at the chandelier, the bright lights competing with the birds that are flying around my head.
Get up, I hear Ryker say.
I look over at him with one eye because the other is completely shut from a hit I took in the last round. Blood runs down and clouds my vision as I swipe at it.
Kai is standing over me and delivers a kick straight to my ribcage.
I choke out a gasp and focus. Fuck. I’m drifting, my mind wandering because I’ve been hit one too many times.
I scramble up and dart away from Kai’s massive legs to rest against the ropes. He approaches with his gloves up, his mouthpiece filled with saliva mixed with blood. I’ve gotten in a couple of good hits to his wide face, but it’s like banging my hand against concrete.
His fist connects with my hip and I stumble back again.
Ryker is yelling at me from the sidelines, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. The crowd cheers and shakes their fists, some for me and some for Kai. Loud rock music blares from the speakers, and all the lights are out except for the spotlight that’s narrowed in on the ring.
Panting through the mouthpiece, I bounce around on the ropes, moving away from Kai. God dammit. I need a fucking minute to get myself together.
Raven.
Pineview.
Fifty thousand dollars.
I shake myself off and roll my neck, barely pausing before I rush at him, my first strike clipping his shoulder, not the chest like I wanted, but the hit has enough force that he stumbles a bit. He barrels back at me, his legs maneuvering a roundhouse kick that plants right into my side.
He bounces away. “Second-degree black belt, asshole. Anything goes in this fight—didn’t you know that?”
I narrow my good eye at him, my fists curling. “Mississippi boys learn how to fight for real in their fucking sleep. Karate isn’t going to help you.”
I wipe sweat out of my eyes, square off again, and eye him, looking for chinks in his armor. He’s proficient in MMA, but boxing is where my strengths lie, and that’s what I focus on.
Bobbing around him, my fists are up as I dart sideways, moving in and out, teasing him then popping just out of reach. I land a small right uppercut to his jaw, and he comes right back at me with a quick two-handed jab. I block it with my forearms and retaliate with an uppercut to his gut.