Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
The crowd starts roaring, beating their feet and their hands. I don’t let myself think about how Brad’s reacting out there; I don’t let myself think about his pain. Maybe he’s crying, but Cain’s pulled this stunt, and now I have to deal with the consequences.
“If you look at that photo and you think you see a fighter taking advantage of a woman, you’re wrong. The truth is, I fell in love with Mary Allen almost two months ago. We’re going to have a family together—a baby. I’m going to do what my old man never could. I’m going to stand by my family, and if this prick thinks he can shame me for that, he’ll feel more than shame on the night of the fight. He’ll feel his teeth breaking and his nose caving in. For my family!”
I beat my chest with the mic, sending an echo all around the arena. I’m about to turn and walk away—I need to find Brad—when Cain starts laughing into the mic. “She’s a bit on the big side for my tastes, but I guess you like them with a bit of meat, aye, Rust?”
I turn, my fists clenched so tight, my whole body trembling. There’s a war drum pounding inside me. Primal. Hurt this man. Tear out his throat. Kill him for ever daring to bring my woman into this.
“And you knocked her up,” he laughs again. “See, ladies and gents? All these years, he’s been playing the saint. Look at him. His best friend’s sister!”
“Shut your mouth. Don’t you ever talk about her,” I growl, not into the mic, but so only he can hear.
He puts his mic down and yells over the noise of the crowd. “After I’m done with you, maybe I’ll give her a good whooping, too.”
I almost explode again. Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision, a blackout threatening, my instincts telling me to go into pure war mode, pure destruction. I stop and practice what I’ve been doing in training: breathe slowly and use all this anger to fuel the fight.
“You think these mind games are going to help you,” I yell over at him, “but it’s just going to make it worse for you, you bastard. Before, I was going to beat you. Now, I’m going to humiliate you for ever dreaming you could say something like that about my woman and get away with it.”
I turn, walking away, promising myself that, no matter what, I’m knocking his ass out cold. I don’t care about the wrestling. I’m going to hurt him. I’m going to break him.
I walk off stage, though the conference isn’t technically over. It doesn’t matter to me now. I need to find Brad and Mary and fix this.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
MARY
“Brad, wait.” I follow him into the parking lot as he bursts out of the fire escape door, angrier than I’ve ever seen him. His posture is like he’s looking for a fight. I jog after him, standing between him and the rental car. “Just wait a second.”
“Is all of that true?” Brad demands, his eyes glistening like he might cry, looking so similar to Dad that it reminds me of when he told me about the heart attack. It’s like it always circles back in families. “The baby? He’s in love with… Since when? The trip? When he left early?”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“That explains the tattoo, then,” he says.
“You know about that?”
“You were wearing a tank top, and the strap slipped. You quickly covered it up. You didn’t think I’d noticed. After that, no more tank tops, but I saw it. I figured you’d tell me in your own time.”
“I’m sorry, Brad.”
“Is it true?” he asks. “Are you really pregnant?”
“Yes,” I tell him, wiping angrily at my cheeks when I feel the tears falling. I’m not allowed to cry right now. It’s not fair. Brad is such a good big brother. He always hates it when I cry. “Rust wanted to tell you right after it happened. You have to know that, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you hating me.”
“Hating you?” Brad says, then looks up when he hears people coming, spilling out of the arena. “Get in the car. We can’t hang around here. We’ll get mobbed, but get in the back and be quiet. I can’t even look at you right now.”
His words sting, but I have little choice. Crowds of people are spilling from the main entrance. If even a couple of them spot us, they’ll run over here, their cameras out, ready to get their few minutes of fame. I get into the back seat. My phone vibrates.
When I take it out, Brad says, “Is that him?”
There’s something angry and suggestive in his tone. I’ve been around Brad enough to read his tone. He’s not really asking me if it’s Rust. What he’s saying is, I don’t want to know. I need space to think. I put my phone facedown on the seat. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter right now.”