Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
He cut off the angry words of his father ringing in his head, and got to work. He took the dogs out for a walk one final time, before closing the kennel.
Wanda was still with him, but instead of going back to his apartment, he drove out of town. He kept driving, heading toward the secure warehouse location that had been texted to him earlier. Grant didn’t always respond to these texts. It was rare for him to do so. Bull had no idea what he did. Nor did the club. Why did it matter? They had pushed him to the side, so their thoughts no longer mattered.
He parked his car and left Wanda in the back seat. He locked the doors and headed into the warehouse.
Grant heard the commotion the moment he entered the building. He didn’t know how the man, Pierce, ran the show or how he was able to get rich people to pay money to watch men pummel each other. It wasn’t something he’d pay money to see. This anger wasn’t good. He had to get it out, and the only way he’d been able to do that over the past few years was to come to these events. It was rare for him to do so, but it also stopped him from going to Bull and beating the shit out of him. Not because he was his prez, but because he was his brother. And at times, he fucking hated his brother. Bull was an asshole.
Pierce spotted him the moment he entered the warehouse and moved toward him. Pierce was a large man, heavily inked, but also dressed in an expensive suit. Grant stayed perfectly still as Pierce approached him.
“You want in on the action?”
“I want the next fight. Your biggest fighter, and I don’t want him to hold back.”
“No one holds back here, Grant.”
“Good.” Because that’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to fight. To feel the burn.
Grant removed his leather cut as he stood at the edge of the fighting ring. He handed the useless leather cut to Pierce and waited.
The fight that was happening when he entered finished a couple of minutes later. The men shook hands as if they were best friends. Pierce liked to put on a show as well.
“All right, all right, ladies and gentlemen. I promised you a spectacle and today you are going to get one. Tonight, we have one of a kind. He’s a small-town boy, but he’s got fists of steel, and he’s looking to do some damage tonight. I give you guys the fucking Eagle!”
His named changed all the time. Pierce never remembered what he called his fighters. It was fucking laughable.
“And tonight, he’s going to be checking on our champion, our steed, our fucking gold box. Let’s hear it for Monster.”
Grant watched as a large, heavily muscled man entered the ring. He was huge and looked like he could take a beating, which was all Grant wanted. Cracking his knuckles, he stepped up close. Pierce was firing up the crowd, getting them to spend money on placing their bets. Grant stared at his opponent and hoped by the end of it, it would hurt.
“You’re a fucking disappointment.”
“Get out of my fucking face.”
“If I wanted a fucking pussy, I’d have brought a woman back.”
“What are you, Grant, you’re a fucking loser. A waste of time. Do you think I want a son who loves fatties? You’re going to be a laughingstock.”
He heard the words running through his head.
“Bull will get rid of you. You’re a pain in the ass and no one wants you around. You’re useless and Bull will see it. All of them will see it, and then you will have nothing. You’re just like your old man.”
Hands clenched into fists, and he struck out at Monster. It wasn’t his fucking name, but Grant didn’t care. He was so focused on the shit inside his head that he didn’t see the blows coming. Grant was able to block them, getting the upper hand.
Everything faded away.
All he could focus on was the man in front of him. As he did so, Monster changed, looking like Bull, and for a second he hesitated. He hated his brother and loved his brother with equal measure. Then he turned, becoming the scared face of his father. And that angered him. He never told Bull how bad it got. He never told anyone of the beatings he endured while his father was trying to retrain his mind to be normal.
Grant attacked the man in front of him, relishing the blows that struck him. Back then, he’d not hit back. He had never thought to hit back. Feeling his dad’s fists, he had thought it was a good thing, that his father was showing him love and affection. But it wasn’t. He’d been the punching bag for his dad, because he’d been too much of a coward to take on Bull. Even back then, Bull had been bigger, older, more terrifying. Grant hadn’t seen it until it was too late. Everything he had known had been a fucking lie and there was nothing he could do about it.