Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I gritted out and ran a hand over my short dark hair, tugging at the clipped strands as annoyance over my own self-control moved through me.
Although I’d never told Bryn how I felt about her—that she was mine, only mine—there was no doubt she knew. I made no secret that I was protective of her, keeping little assholes away who came sniffing around. And they came around the house, trying to flirt, trying to act all fucking smooth.
No. Just fucking no.
I didn’t even want to think about them trying that shit when I wasn’t around. That had my hackles rising.
I watched Bryn constantly when she was near, always needing her in my line of vision when we were close.
Hell, I’d followed her to school on more than one occasion just to make sure she got there okay. She didn’t know that, but if she asked, I wouldn’t lie.
She was mine, and I made no apologies about that.
Bryn belonged to me the moment I saw her. Nothing and no one else existed for me but her. She was the sun, and I happily fucking orbited around her.
That was also something she didn’t know about... the lengths I’d go, this fatal proprietary feeling I had for her. But she would. Soon enough. Tonight.
I was done waiting, done trying not to gouge out motherfuckers’ eyes who even glanced in her direction, or shoving my fists through their mouths if they spoke to her. Hell, if I thought they were even thinking about her, I’d get locked up for killing an asshole.
I ran a hand over my jaw and exhaled again, opening my eyes and staring at the all but dilapidated ceiling. I couldn’t help but be like this—feel this way for her. She was my drug of choice... my only drug of choice.
I heard them announce the fighters, so I pushed away from the wall and bounced on the balls of my feet. When I went out there, it was a fucking struggle not to seek her out. That was all I wanted to do. But if I searched for her, focused on her, nothing else would matter. Not the fight, not the win. Nothing. I’d be by her in the next second.
Fucking show time.
I walked to the door and gripped the handle, waiting a heartbeat for the announcer to call my name. And then I went out there, intent on knocking this fucking out and claiming my ultimate prize.
Bryn.
3
Bryn
“You motherfuckers ready to get your depraved and violence-driven whistles wet?”
I lifted my hands to cup over my ears as the people in the room roared out after the announcer made his speech. I couldn’t see him, only the large speakers set up around the room.
“Yeah,” the announcer said again, his voice booming and echoing off the walls. “I knew you sick fuckers were ready to see all the blood that’s gonna spill tonight.”
The crowd was going wild. They pushed and shoved. It was like a living ocean with waves moving forward and retreating. Back and forth.
“I know who you came here to see, know all you perverts want to see that big motherfucker who takes down his opponents as if they’re annoying fucking flies.”
My body positively zinged with energy at that. He hadn’t even said his name, but everyone knew who the announcer spoke about.
I knew.
And because my body knew it too, I became pliant, wet, and warm, ready for Oli.
I was vaguely aware of the announcer talking again, but I couldn’t hear anything aside from the buzz in my ears. My focus was scanning the back doors, knowing that’s where the fighters hung out until they were called forth.
One door opened first, and my heart raced, but it immediately stilled when I noticed it wasn’t Oli. The guy who walked out was big and toned, but he was so small compared to Oli that I almost felt bad. He’d get his ass handed to him fast tonight.
The endorphins pumped through me fast and strong. I was jittery and anxious, nervous and excited.
I watched the fighter make his way toward the ring. He was shirtless, with a lean, muscled abdomen. His head was downcast, his light-brown hair hanging over his forehead and kind of blocking his eyes. I was so disinterested in him I started searching the back doors again. He wasn’t why I was here. He wasn’t who I came to see. No one else mattered but one person.
Oli.
Oli.
Oli.
His name was on repeat in my head.
And then the second door opened, and I swore the atmosphere in the room changed, became even more charged, which seemed impossible for how alive it was before.
I saw him emerge from the room, his huge, corded body at ease, calm. It was like he walked to his job at an office or something for how unconcerned he was right now. His head was lowered, and he paid no attention to anyone. He never did. It was like they didn’t exist.