Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Then what?” he asked.
“I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
“You sure do, Lotto.”
I rocked my hips into his again and smirked. “And if you need another reminder of who is in charge. I’ll gladly give it to you.”
Chapter
Twenty
FRANKIE
Ithrew my duffel bag next to my back tire and punched my rear window, pretending it was the head of the Circuit.
That fucker. I had a bone to pick with his bald ass and curly mustache.
We’d driven all the way to fucking Spokane for our next match, only to get a call five minutes before the fight was about to start.
Suspended pending decision. While the suits in charge of this farce discussed our future with the Circuit, we couldn’t step in the ring and had to forfeit our match. They had to make sure “Lucien’s funds weren’t tainted” and that we were clear for a new sponsor.
What a crock of bullshit.
How long did it take to make a damn decision? It had been about a week since Lucien dropped out and Troy refused to sponsor us. A week of waffling on self-sponsorship. Of not knowing if we’d be waving dildos on live streams or working for another criminal. Mustache man Mustgrave Billows at the Circuit hadn’t taken my advice too kindly. Then again, I probably shouldn’t have told the organizer to “shove your money-laundering scheme and felon sponsors up your fat ass and make a decision already.”
Ari said we’d be lucky to be in the Circuit anymore after that.
But did it really take that long to make a fucking decision?
I tapped my first on my window a few times. Was anything ever going to go our way?
“Hey now, what did that glass ever do to you?”
I bristled. I knew that voice—not personally, but from annoying radio ads and local commercials. Just my luck.
I turned to the man of the hour. Scotty Green, our last hope for sponsorship, lifted a hand and waved it at me as he approached. He looked the part of a mechanic. Long, greasy hair in a ponytail, country-boy overalls with grease stains, a towel with his shop’s logo dangling from his waving hand. Tattoos covered every inch of his skin, from his knuckles to his neck.
The fuck was he doing here?
“Long way from Seattle,” I croaked and turned back to my car. I already had a headache. I didn’t need to deal with another.
“Came to see my possible sponsor fight.” Scotty leaned an elbow against my trunk. “Too bad it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, too fucking bad.”
“Heard you been callin’ around, asking the other two about workin’ together.”
I set my arm on the hood of my car. “Word travels fast.”
“Especially when money’s involved. Looks like I’m your last resort.”
His sharp smile made me want to vomit. So did the truth in his words. Since the Circuit heads were taking their sweet-ass time deciding what to do with us, Scotty was likely the only way we could keep going. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. His head was already big enough, that bobble head bitch.
“Could always drop out. Try again next year.”
“You really think the Circuit will let your gym back?” He played with the towel, making sure to flash his logo my way. “Without a sponsor, you can kiss your remaining chances goodbye. That’s where I come in.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Us local shops should stick together. Band together to stick it to the man.”
“Right.”
“All you gotta do is rep my brand.”
“Sure.”
Scotty sneered. “You gonna keep being a little bitch or hear me out?”
“What’s there to hear out?” I clenched my teeth to keep from lashing out further. I’d already fucked up when speaking with the Circuit earlier, but I couldn’t help but ask, “How about you talk about your rap sheet first? Get your funds by selling stolen car parts?”
“Water under the bridge. I’m a changed man. On a different path.” His grin widened. “Looking to help the lessers.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“I call it like I see it.” Scotty pushed up and handed out the towel. “Sign with me, and you’ll be back atop the leaderboard in no time.” He shrugged. “Or don’t and see where your ass lands. Up to you.”
I stared at the towel with a frown. “Why are you coming to me?” Everyone else was still inside, around here somewhere. Lotto was the one who dealt with shit like this, not me.
“You’re the smartest man out of your little group.”
“So, the others turned your ass down?” His lips puckered and told me everything. I snorted, “So I’m your last resort, huh?”
“You help me, I’ll help you.”
I didn’t want to agree, but what other choice did we have? This was the easiest road back into the ring, and only a month remained. We needed every fight left to claw our way up to the top. The odds were stacked against us and getting worse with every missed fight.