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)
“Stop it,” I yell. “Let me go.”
Cameron shakes his head. “Just give him a minute.” I sit back down and put my head in my hands with my heart rate thumping in my ears. How can they watch him get hurt like this?
“What if that maniac kills him?” I scream at Ben. “Aren’t you his frigging bodyguard?” He smiles and shakes his head and Adrian is now standing on his seat yelling at the ring.
“Finish him off, finish him off.” Good grief—finish him off. Now I have heard it all. I grab Adrian’s shirt and yank him off the chair so fast he nearly falls over.
“Shut up,” I yell. The crowd screams again, and my eyes flick back to the ring. To my horror Josh has a bleeding nose and is going berserk on this guy. He punches him, his head snaps back at the contact, and then follows through with another knee. Blood is on both of their faces and I don’t know whose blood is whose. The blond guy seems to be losing it and they start to really let loose on each other and the ref steps in and grabs the blond guy to stop the fight, obviously because of the blood. Blondie pushes the poor ref, and he falls down. The crowd all stand and go wild. He then turns his attention back to Joshua as he kicks him hard in the stomach.
I stand. “Oh my god, get down there,” I scream at Ben and Cameron. This isn’t entertainment anymore. They are actually fighting for real. Ben and Cameron stand and start to run down the stairs toward the ring. An abundance of people are now down there, trying to break them up. I see Josh’s trainers in the ring. I can’t see or hear a thing because everyone in the arena is going ballistic, jumping up and down. Is this place a sick frigging joke? Abbie now has her hands over her eyes and Bridget is trying her best to calm me down before I start to hyperventilate. Josh runs and tackles the blond guy to the ground and starts to repeatedly punch him in the head. Suddenly there is a crowd rush in the corner of the audience to the left of the ring and everybody screams again. Holy shit, there is a fight in the crowd.
“What in the hell is going on?” Bridget screams. My eyes go back to the ring and I see Josh and the blond guy surrounded by about fifteen men trying to break them away from each other. They manage the task and I look down to see Joshua being held back by his arms, the look on his face murderous as he glares at his opponent. A cold chill runs down my spine, he looks evil. Completely evil. He is covered in blood and is still trying to get free to try and continue killing this other man with his bare hands, who I might add looks more than happy to repay the favor. He spits blood onto the ground. Who is this man? Definitely not the polished rich boy I know. Do I even know him at all? This is the part of his personality that I cannot reconcile. The fight in the crowd continues and I see Ben climb beneath the ropes into the ring. Joshua looks at him and starts yelling. I see Ben nod; he then turns and sprints back up the stairs toward us. Joshua and blond idiot are led out of the ring and backstage, both being held tightly with their arms behind their backs to prevent them from attacking each other again. I sit down and cover my face with my hands.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
“Fuck. That was intense,” Adrian murmurs.
“You think,” Bridget yells back.
“See why I hate this,” I snap. “Over my dead body is he doing this again.” Adrian, Abbie and Bridget all nod. This is not a sport. This is thuggery at its lowest point. Ben walks along the row of seats and back to us.
“What did Joshua say to you down there?” I ask. He doesn’t answer and looks at Adrian and shrugs his shoulders.
“What did he say?” I repeat.
He looks annoyed at my question. “He went off at me for leaving you alone.” What? This man is un-freaking-believable. He’s covered in blood and fighting a suspected psychopath in front of twenty thousand people but is worried about me sitting in the frigging grandstand without protection.
“Now I’ve heard it all,” I snap.
Adrian raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Me too.”
An hour and three cocktails later we are waiting outside the exit door of the fighter’s locker rooms. Cameron never came back from the ring so I suspect that he stayed with Joshua. Ben is hanging with us but is not drinking at all, obviously on duty. Adrian and the girls are far beyond tipsy; they are downright drunk. I, however, have sobered up considerably since witnessing Rocky Balboa on the rampage.