Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Bridget looks from me to Abbie and starts to giggle. “Since when has Josh been cage-fighting?” she asks Will. “This is ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe six months.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He likes it I suppose.” He smiles.
“What, he likes bashing the shit out of people?” I frown.
Cameron and Will laugh. “Yes, exactly.” They keep shuffling up the row to our seats while checking the numbers on the tickets.
I stand still. “I don’t think I can stay,” I whisper to Abbie. I feel like I am going to be sick.
She shakes her head. “Just stay for a bit and then I will come with you.”
“OK, deal.” In quick succession I scull my drink and head to the bar for something stronger. I stand in line at the bar and take in my surroundings. There are massive screens around the perimeter and two bars fully stocked with all the trimmings.
The crowd is eclectic, from age eighteen and up. I notice more women seem to be lingering at the bar, probably escaping the brutality of this horrible place. I hear the crowd roar and my eyes are drawn to the big screen to see two men in capes walk into the fighting arena. They remove their capes, looking like bodybuilders or something. Jeez. I look away from the screen, suddenly panicked at what I am about to witness, and the crowd goes wild again.
My eyes are once again drawn back to the screen, my heart racing. The two men touch fists and then start to push each other around, inciting the other to make the first move. One man is of European descent, maybe Italian or something, and the other is bald but very Anglo Saxon, maybe English, but it’s hard to tell. Shit, this is hard to watch, but I find I can’t look away. These men are huge and aggressive, and they are fighting in a frigging cage in front of about ten thousand people. Every now and then they get too rough and the referee steps in. They do seem pretty evenly skilled. I see what Cam means; it is sort of kickboxing. Although every now and then they connect and wrestle to the ground. I find I’m holding my breath. They would have to be hurting each other. I can almost feel the hits myself. I wince as a punch connects. I can’t work it out, from what place deep inside does a person get the anger to get off on this shit? The adrenaline in their systems must be through the roof. How in the hell has Josh strayed so far from the man I knew? He does this, he does this for fun.
I run my hands through my hair as this information sinks in. I honestly don’t know him anymore. I haven’t a frigging clue who in the hell he is. He isn’t the smart, witty, surfie guy I fell in love with. He’s morphed into a smoking, stripper-loving, cage- fighting bad boy. Who, unfortunately, I find totally fascinating and not to mention utterly gorgeous. There is definitely nothing left of my Josh though, my beautiful gentle Josh. The thought saddens me deep to my bones. I’m grieving for a man that no longer exists. A man who for reasons beyond my control I can no longer reach.
It is with a heavy heart and a clear mind that I buy the drinks and head back to our seats. Perhaps this is a good thing, the realization of the current events. I suppose that in all honesty it is definitely better for both of us that we never hook up again. We are related after all. I just wish I didn’t have this visceral attraction to him, it’s becoming embarrassing, and damn hard to control. On my return I am surprised to see Abbie and Bridget standing and cheering with the boys. Oh no, they are getting into it, and Abbie is wolf-whistling. They are going for Mr. Italy and he seems to be coming out on top. A few more rounds and finally the ref steps in and announces Mr. Italy the victor. The crowd goes wild. Abbie and Bridget are jumping up and down on their seats. They are so annoying. I am sitting, head down, playing on my phone. I could not be more distracted if I tried. After the fight is over there is a ten-minute break until the next one. Cam sits back with his arm over the backs of the chairs. The others are all standing.
“Tash, are you OK?” He smiles behind everyone’s legs. I nod. Though at the moment I really don’t think I am. The dam in my throat is threatening to burst. It’s all too much—how much more can I take? He holds out his hand to me and I grab it. He squeezes it in a reassuring gesture.