Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
This was what I’d known coming in. They thought we were pretty boys. We were famous. We were wealthy. We were civilians.
Yes, we were all that, but in our heart of hearts, we were like them. And as I looked over to where Nate was standing, I knew another truth. Logan and I were not like him. We had these monsters inside of us, and mine had been hiding. The moment I committed to the NFL, I tucked that beast away. I locked him up and tossed the key. My years of playing football had been some of the best in my life.
I had my children. Dinners with my colleagues. Fancy fundraisers. We’d been to a few movie premieres. To the White House. Played in the Super Bowl. Won a couple rings. I had lived life, and one could argue that I’d lived life to the fullest.
We’d been normal.
The difference between Nate and Logan and me was the life I had before my dad killed himself, that life would’ve made Nate content. Being normal. He would’ve been at peace. Happy.
But for Logan and me, that life was our mask. It’s what was expected of us. So we went the normal route. I did it because I loved playing football, but I also did it because I didn’t want to work in my father’s company. Taking that road would’ve led here a lot sooner. In this warehouse full of criminal bikers, at a fighting ring where my brother was dominating a guy twenty pounds bigger than him, and I was buzzing with anticipation. This felt altogether too comfortable.
I’d barely kept myself in control growing up, and now that I was back in Fallen Crest, here I was anyway. A part of me loved this. My soul thirsted for this, and Logan was the same. I could see the sick delight on his face.
His opponent had gotten a few hits in. Blood streamed down the front of Logan’s face, but his eyes were alive. They were dancing.
I glanced back to Nate, wondering what he saw when he looked at my brother.
I knew they had their own dynamic.
Stripes came over to me. “You could’ve told me he was a ringer.”
I grinned at him, not hiding it. “A ringer? My brother’s a lawyer.”
He still glared. “You know what I mean.”
“Not my fault you didn’t do your homework. There’s a documentary about us.”
He scoffed, but I caught a hint of a grin before he left again, ambling over to some of the other bikers.
“What’d he want?” Nate asked, reappearing at my side.
I told him.
Nate snorted. “He should’ve done his research.”
I searched Nate for derision in his face or in his voice, but there wasn’t any. He was tense, on guard, but he wasn’t judging us, not the way he had earlier.
“You’re okay with this now?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
A wariness came over Nate’s face, and he seemed to be choosing his words. “I…I hate this shit. This…” He waved toward Logan, nodding at the rest of the warehouse. “I think you’re better than this. I think we’re better than this. But I see your point. Logan needed this. I can see that now. You were right to bring him here.” He hesitated. “And whatever other reason you’re doing this for, I’m sure it’s valid.”
I waited to see if there was more.
After a moment, he gave a short laugh. “Being a dad now, I can understand why my parents pulled me out of here.” His eyes sparkled, until he saw me.
I wasn’t amused.
His laughter fell away. He cleared his throat. “I was referring to you being a bad influence on me, so they sent me to that school.”
“I remember.” I still wasn’t amused.
He frowned, looking away.
Stripes stalked back over. “Your boy is playing with him. That shit’s going to get old real fucking fast.”
I shrugged. “What do you want me to do about it?” I gestured to the ring. “Get another guy in there and get that one out. And if Logan starts playing with that one, do it again. I paid for this.”
He huffed. “Yeah, we can do that. We’ll consider this one a win for your boy.” He whistled sharply and motioned. “Get in there. Core, you’re out.”
“What?” the guy started protesting.
“He’s playin—” Stripes had his hand in the air.
Wham!
Stripes stopped talking because Logan rounded on the guy and hit him so hard in the face the guy’s entire body flew in the air. When he landed, no one was surprised that he was knocked out.
Logan stood in the ring, heaving, blood and sweat streaked over his entire body. After a moment he came to the edge. “I want to go again.”
Stripes gave in. “Roadie, it’s your turn. Let’s see if you stay pretty for all those girls.”
Some of the bikers laughed, whistling as the next guy climbed in. He eyed Logan with a bit more wariness than the first guy.