Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
He leans down and in a low voice says, “Hell yeah, I’m back. As long as they don’t stash me in that fuckin’ hotel again when we’re done, I’ll stick around.”
I rear back and stare at him, a frown creasing my forehead. “What?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know that?” Bear Trap says. “Total media blackout until after my episode aired.” He shoots a death glare at Camera Guy Mike. “Fucking bullshit.”
“Hey, I just capture the footage,” Mike protests.
“I didn’t get to go home yet, so I’m guessing my dismissal hasn’t aired.” A sly smile curves Venom’s lips. “But at least they let Kelly come stay with me.”
Bear Trap grunts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and based on what came through the hotel’s thin walls last night, he’s desperately trying to impregnate her.”
Venom slowly swivels his head Bear Trap’s way. “The fuck you listening for, perv?”
My remaining doubts ease into gratitude for their presence. I burst out laughing and step between them. “I’m so glad you guys are back.” I lean sideways and stare into the hallway. “Woolly didn’t come with you?”
“Nah, man. He had enough,” Venom says. “Soon as they said he could bounce, he was gone like Tigger the Tiger.”
“Thanks for coming back.” I pat Bear Trap’s shoulder. “You’ve been gone for a while. I thought you would’ve forgotten all about me.”
“How could I forget you?” His voice and posture vibrate with enthusiasm.
We spend a few minutes catching up but it’s awkward with the cameras guys circling us like hungry turkey vultures hoping to pick our carcasses clean.
Underhill’s been a good coach but having my fellow fighters back to support me means a lot more.
“Let’s get this done, Stonewall!” Venom pulls Bear Trap and me in for a bowed-head huddle. Something I’m sure the cameras are enjoying since they zoom in close.
“Something, something profound, something meaningful something encouragement,” Venom mutters.
I snort-laugh at his nonsensical mumbling for the camera. The corner of his mouth quirks but he doesn’t open his eyes.
Venom lifts his arm from my back, ending our huddle.
“You’ve got this, Stonewall!” Bear Trap knocks his fist against my shoulder.
Venom pats the top of my head. “I can’t wait to see you twist that pink-mohawked motherfucker like a pretzel.”
Three days. I’m given three days to train with my former housemates. That’s it.
Technically, I’ve been training since I got here.
I’m beyond ready.
The show delivers several pairs of purple-and-gold fitted compression shorts a few days before the final fight.
On fight day, though, Venom shows up in the gym where I’m trying to work on some breathing exercises with a purple satin robe.
I squint at it. “The fuck is that?”
“For you. Paul says you get to make a big entrance, with pyro and everything.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I roll my eyes and take the robe from his hands. “I’m gonna look like a freaky-ass cult leader wearing this.”
He presses his palms together and bows. “Ah, mighty Stonewall. We pray for you to kick Naptime into the next universe.”
“Shut up.” I whap him with the robe. “Where’s Bear Trap at?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Coach comes in and gives me a few last-minute pointers. Then the cameras arrive. Like a good little fighter, I put on a show of sparring with Venom.
“Still quick on your feet,” he praises. I swear, Venom’s been a better coach than the actual coach. “Your grappling is even better than when you kicked my ass.”
A shade of guilt falls over me, but he doesn’t say it with any animosity. He almost seems proud. “Thanks.”
“You’ve got this.”
“No, I mean it.” I motion him closer. “Thank you.”
He rests his hands on my shoulders and squeezes. “Clear your mind. Don’t be afraid to adapt or change your strategy, okay? Be fluid.”
“Like water,” I agree.
“That’s it.”
“Let’s roll.” Venom holds out the shiny purple robe to me.
Fuck it. I slip it on and pull it around myself.
Bear Trap meets us in the hallway. I stop and take in his purple sweatshirt embroidered with a big, gold crown on the front. Same shade of purple as my shiny robe.
He grins at me. “Wanted to make it clear who I was rooting for.”
“Thanks.” I reach out and hug him quickly. “Any advice?”
Everyone else seems to have wisdom to share.
“Well, he knows you’re a good grappler. He’ll probably try to land some punishing body shots as early as possible. So be nimble.”
“Nah, Stonewall’s a damn good striker too,” Venom says.
“Aw, guys, you’re making me blush.” I duck my head and laugh.
“All right, enough jerking each other off.” Underhill claps his hands. “Let’s move.”
“Yes, sir.” Bear Trap raises his hand in a salute that ends with his middle finger in the air.
Underhill shakes his head and mutters to himself.
I walk behind the others, trying to center myself and clear my head. In the van, I take the seat all the way in the back and close my eyes. The others seem to respect my need for distance. Their combined chatter fades into the rest of the noise—the grind of the van’s engine, the rumble from the road.