Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
“What if I don’t?”
“Then we’ll figure it out,” I cry. My hands shake and I lay them on my lap. My thoughts start to separate, boil down to the basics, and I realize the fundamental problem with this whole thing. Is it selfish? Probably.
But still.
“I can’t lose you, too,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.
“Hey,” he says, walking over to the side of the bed. He sits on the edge and kisses me gently. “What did I tell you last night?”
I can’t speak, so he answers himself.
“That I’ll never walk away from you again.”
“But—”
“No buts, Jules. I’m going to be fine. This is the first time in my life that I’m fighting for something real, for something that matters. I’m doing this.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“I’m never leaving you.”
I don’t trust him and not because it’s him this time. But because I’ve heard that before and been left even though they didn’t want to leave me. Sometimes it isn’t your choice. Sometimes fate has different plans. And Crew fighting seems to be taunting fate and its devilish ways. How would I make it? How would Ever take it?
Ever . . .
“Crew, about last night . . .” My throat starts to burn. I don’t know how to navigate whatever this is between us now. What does he mean when he says he won’t walk away? I’m also not sure what’s best for Ever right now.
“Last night was the best night I’ve ever had,” he says simply. His reply makes me grin. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not gonna like where your head is at today?”
I shrug, tugging the blanket back up around me again. “I don’t know what, if anything, this changes between us.”
“It changes everything,” he says matter-of-factly.
“How?”
“What do you mean, ‘How?’”
“I don’t know how to do this, whatever this even is. I don’t want Ever confused. I don’t want her having to deal with anything else in her already-disrupted life.”
“Let’s get a couple of things straight. This,” he says, motioning between us, “is you and me together. It’s you and me tackling this fucking world as a team. This,” he says, pointing at himself, “is me not giving two fucks what you say about it. I gave you the option to stop last night and you didn’t take it. Now you deal with me.”
His lips part into a small grin, but I know he’s not joking. I’m semi-relieved that he’s not.
“I can see how you want things to move slowly for Everleigh and that’s fine. I get it. She’s dealing with enough change right now. But just so you know,” he says, leaning in and kissing me again before standing up, “you and I aren’t up for negotiation. You’ll have to make it work.” He winks before heading to the door. “I’ll be back this afternoon sometime. You gonna be okay?”
“I don’t like you fighting, Crew. I really don’t like this. I want to know exactly what’s going on. I want the details. I want to know everything.”
“Later,” he says, turning the handle. “It’s really nothing for you to worry about.”
“How can you say that?”
He shrugs. “I just did.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
CREW
My sweat streaks the canvas of the ring. My opponent, Victor, is sitting across from me, catching his breath, too. We’ve been training for hours and the one thing I’ve found out is this: my cardio isn’t what I thought it was. I forgot how long five minutes can feel.
Victor groans as he stands and slips between the ropes. He disappears into the locker room. He’s young, mid-twenties. His forte is striking and he’s damn good at it. I’m sure he thought what every striker thinks when they told him he was going in with a wrestler. Regardless, he left the ring having taken more blows than I did.
My entire body aches. Sal’s game plan for this fight is quick and hard—there’s no time to baby my body into peak performance. I gotta get it as good as I can in just a quarter of the time it normally takes to prepare for a fight. It’s not much, but it’s all I got to work with.
Sal comes up beside me and rests his hands on the top rope. “Not bad today, kid. Your body still has muscle memory, thank God.”
“As many years as I did this, it better.”
“I need ya to head to the camp tomorrow.”
I dip my head. Camp is an hour outside of the city, an acre of country that the gym owns. Most training-style camps are held there exclusively. There’s even a small dormitory set up so you don’t have to leave. It’s the perfect place to get in shape. No phones, trails to run, wood to chop, bales of hay to toss. Sal is very old school with his methods, but they work. “Be there around noon. We’ll be there ’til dark at least.” He shakes his head. “I wish we had more time.”