Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?” I ask, not getting in, standing in the open door.
“Yeah.” I lift up to kiss him, but his hand grips my hip, preventing me from going up on my tiptoes to try and press my mouth to his. “Not right now.” I swear it feels as though I took a punch to the damn gut. I try to mask my hurt, but it must show. “Josie, it’s not you, it's me.”
“You did not just say that.” I shake my head with a huff of a laugh. Mick’s face remains serious and intense. He looks every inch of a man right now.
“I’m not in control. If I kiss you right now—” He glances towards the diner, where I can see people inside.
“All right.” I turn to get in, but he pulls me back, his mouth crushing down onto mine. The kiss is hard and possessive, revealing the raw side of himself that he tries to conceal from me. It takes my breath away. “Now, in.” He gives my ass a squeeze. I just nod and slip into the passenger seat.
With how on edge Mick is, I think I’ll wait to tell him my worries over the police running my name in their system. What might pop up for the psycho who is sending me creepy messages? Some of these online weirdos are quite adept at tracking things down.
Mick hops into the driver's seat, taking off back toward Vegas. His hand once again returns to my thigh. I’m starting to wonder if I should be more worried for the internet creep's safety than my own. If he shows up, who the hell knows what Mick might do.
Chapter Nineteen
MICK
“Ihad one rule. No boobs. No booze.”
“Technically, that’s two,” O.P. says.
I have to bite down hard not to bust out laughing. Pedro’s glare is cold enough to freeze water. O.P. grimaces and says, “You’re on your own, kid.”
“You lied to me. You ran off to LA and you almost killed a kid in a parking lot. Do you know what that does for your professional career?”
“No, sir.”
“It ruins it. Before you even get started. You can’t have a criminal record and fight at the MGM.”
I want to say they started it, but the police didn’t really buy that story, and I don’t think Pedro will either. It’s better to stay silent and take my lumps. Pedro will shout at me, make me run or lift some ungodly amount until I’m puking my guts out, and then we’ll get back to the work of making me into a champion.
“I’m not going to have a criminal record. It was self-defense.”
“Do you know why I have a no boobs rule? It’s because women are a distraction. No one gets to be a champ when they’re pussymatized. All you will be doing is running after that girl. She breaks a nail, you have to cut training short to get her a file. She’s hungry, she’s thirsty, she’s bored, and she’s always going to call you.”
“Josie’s not like that. She’s got her own life. She doesn’t want to control mine, and she understands my goals.”
Pedro stares at me for a long time as silence stretches out between us like a rubber band. Then it snaps.
“Get out.”
There’s the order. “How far do you want me to run?”
“Huh?” He gapes at me.
“For punishm—or training. How far? Or should it be for time? Like an hour or two?” Two hours of running is a lot for me. I’ve got a big body, not a runner’s body.
“Get out. Clean out your locker and go home. I’m done with you.”
I blink and then shake my head because I’m sure I’m not hearing right. “Done? With me?”
“Yeah, Mick. I have rules. You didn’t keep them. And you lied to me. Why should I be wasting my time on you? Get out.” He jerks his thumb toward the door.
He’s not serious. He can’t be serious. I want to argue with him, tell him I was defending my girl and that she’s not a distraction, but he’s not going to listen. Not today, but I’m not quitting so I don’t go and clean out my locker. Instead, I go for a run. I run for two hours and sweat off my anger at him, at the assholes from the restaurant, the cops who tried to arrest me.
I return to the gym, but the door’s locked. I kick the door until Dee sticks his head out. He clicks his tongue and shoots me a sympathetic look. “Go home, Mick. Pedro’s not going to let you in today. Eventually you can come back and be one of us, but he’ll never give you that personal training again.”
“Let me in and spar.”
“No can do. You’re too good, and I have to look pretty for the weekend. I’ve got a sweet mama coming over and I can’t be looking all busted and shit.” He slams the door shut.