Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
It’s all bullshit. It’s for entertainment. As long as I’m beating someone’s ass in the cage, nothing else matters. Now, if I lose, that will be something for the press to gobble up. They’ll ask the dumbest question, and I don’t think playing nice will be in the picture for me. That’s why I have to win. I can’t afford to look stupid.
I’ve been fighting professionally in MMA for four years and I haven’t lost yet. I don’t plan on losing anytime during my career. But, like Grandma Marie always said, never say never.
I go straight back to my hotel after the interview and ten minute press conference. I ride up the elevator, surprised I’m not fucking drained.
These long nights are common. I don’t sleep as much as I used to. In fact, since Grandma Marie died, I haven’t had a full night’s rest.
I wish she were here now. I wish she could see me doing something that could have provided for both of us. No bills to worry about and definitely no need for Flex anymore.
Yeah, my twisted, stupid father. Now, that’s a story to fucking tell. I haven’t talked to him since I left Fox River. He’s not allowed at my fights. He’s not allowed near me. Period.
He has been calling at least once a month, probably begging for money.
I heard he’s been telling the fighters at the gym that I owe him money for not showing up for the ones he scheduled for me back then.
Fucking pig. He’ll never change, and that’s a damn shame.
I meet up to my door and slide the key in. But it’s as I walk in that I hear the TV is on. I step forward, spotting Jenny sitting on the middle of the bed with a tray of food in front of her.
On it, waffles, eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. I close the door behind me and then fold my arms, smirking at her.
“Oh… um… I ordered room service,” she utters with a bashful grin. “I hope you don’t mind.” She winces, obviously in preparation for a smart remark from me. She has me all wrong.
“Not at all.” I walk in her direction, looking at the TV. She’s watching music videos. “You can order whatever you want as long as you’re here. I’m surprised you’re still around, to be honest.”
“I am too.” She looks around. “I think last night’s sleep was the best I’ve had in ages.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to sleep like I want to. Terrible insomnia and some anxiety, but this bed is so damn comfy. I never want to move from it.” She grins, revealing her pearly white teeth as she pats the bed. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“Anytime, Jenny.”
She fiddles with her fork, shuffling her eggs around. “I just—well… I can’t believe where you are now, Drake. Like… wow.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… well, only a few years ago, you were struggling with what to do next. And now look at you. I’m just wondering how I never saw or heard what you were doing before coming to Vegas.”
“What in the hell were you doing in Yale? You have TV, don’t you?”
She shrugs. “My roommate and I agreed we didn’t need cable. As long as we had Wi-Fi we were fine. That’s what they make streaming services for. Netflix was all I watched. Marathon after marathon of whatever shows I want.” She winks.
I laugh. “What did you do with your time outside of that?”
“Homework. Projects. Finals… and a lot of singing.”
“Singing?” I look at her, surprised to hear that. “You still love to sing?”
“And write songs from time to time,” she adds before biting into her waffle.
“You’ll have to let me hear something.”
Her head shakes. “I don’t think you want to hear the songs I’ve come up with lately.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because most of them are about you… and not in the good way.”
I rub my jaw, but I don’t pull my gaze away. “Well, then I deserve to hear them.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I deserve to listen to what I put you through. You probably hate my fucking guts now.”
She releases a heavy sigh as she chews slowly. “I don’t hate you, Drake. I could never hate you.”
I’m surprised to hear that, too. “With the way you acted when you first talked to me again in the locker room—”
“I don’t hate you. I swear.” She forces a smile. “I was just terrified to face you. I mean here I am, doing absolutely nothing with my life, and here you are. You’ve transformed into someone untouchable. Someone way bigger than the Drake Davenport I knew back in Fox River.”
“I’m still me. Trust me. Nothing’s changed. More people just know me as Doomsday now.”
She nods, tossing her hair. “Is this…” She hesitates for a moment, looking up at me before pulling her line of vision away. “Is this why you didn’t show up that night in Fox River?” she asks, and her voice is really faint, almost like she never even wanted to ask. “Because of fighting?”