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)
He screams and tries to pull back. His hand is limp, the bones that normally hold it straight now disjointed.
My left arm flies up under his chin. I take a fistful of his sweatshirt and jerk him across my body. His green sneakers pass by my eyes as he flies a good five feet in the air, slamming into a pub table against the other wall. The weight of his body causes the table to disintegrate and he crashes through it, napkin dispensers and advertisements caving in on top of him. Movement from his friend catches my attention. His eyes are wide, badass to scared-shitless in an instant. He’s moving backwards slowly, glancing around for an exit.
The mug still in my hand, I set it down, then watch my next opponent back against a stool. As his legs touch the fabric, his eyes go even wider, realizing that there is no escape. Not tonight. Not without being royally fucked up, anyway.
I pull back like I’m gonna punch him in the face and he does what every guy does that’s watched too much fighting on TV. He hunkers to his right. Instead of punching him, I yank him towards me. His face is met with my elbow. It slams against him, driving his nose into this skull. I feel the bones cave and splinter under the force.
His head knocks to the side, and whole teeth and pieces of others fly from his mouth, rattling down the bar like someone just rolled dice.
I release his shirt, his eyes about ready to bulge out of his head. He stumbles against the stool. His hands are shaking as they grasp at his already-swelling and bloodied mouth.
My senses come back in full force, the silence in the room deafening. I can smell the fear on the guy across from me, the panic in the air as the scattered patrons watch with bated breath. I’ve been in this position dozens of times and there’s nothing like it.
I do a quick scan of the room. Jordyn is standing in the doorway to the kitchen with her hand over her mouth. Various people are standing around, mouths open. Will is still sitting in his chair, calmly sipping his beer. Our eyes meet and he chuckles, completely amused.
“Yahtzee,” Will says, breaking the silence. I shake my head and he laughs, standing up. He walks over to the first guy, who’s lifting his head, trying to make sense of what’s going on. In one swift movement, Will’s boot meets his face. His head falls back against the floor. Will looks at me and shrugs. “Just needed to be sure.”
I turn back to the Toothless Wonder. His arms are still out to his sides, the same position they were in after I hit him. He starts to fall forward. I hook my arms under his and catch him before he completely lands against me.
“Was it worth it?” I ask, holding him up. He gurgles his answer, blood trickling down the side of his face. “You came in my fucking bar and scared my favorite bartender. That was a fuckup.” His eyes grow wider, the gurgling picking up pace. I grin. “I think you need to learn a lesson.”
He starts to yell but it never has a chance to escape his lips. The top of my head drives into his skull once, twice, three times, before I let him go. He melts to the floor.
The bar goes wild. People start shouting and clapping. Jordyn collapses against the wall. I just stand in the middle of the chaos and try to get the adrenaline coursing through my veins to slow down.
Will grabs my shoulder and laughs. “That was more entertainment that I expected to get tonight.”
I shrug.
“You’d probably have managed even if I hadn’t jumped in. But I couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t want you to look like a pussy in front of your fan club.” He laughs, nodding to Adam and Dane.
“You’re such a fuckup, Will.”
He roars with laughter and heads over to Adam and Dane. They have a cell phone aimed at the guy on the floor.
“Dude, you just got knocked the fuck out by Crew Fucking Gentry! You’re gonna be famous,” Adam exclaims.
Dane laughs. “I can’t believe it. We finally got to see him fight. He’s better than I even thought.”
“That was epic. I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Adam says and turns to look at me with a look of amazement on his face. “You’re the man!”
ELEVEN
JULIA
I line up the paint pots across the paper towel covering the center of the kitchen table. The top of the table is still a bit sticky from this morning’s pancakes, but I don’t really care. My mind is too preoccupied to worry, for once, about spilled syrup.
Tomorrow is the day of reckoning. It will make me or break me.