Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
I knocked up your daughter, Ryke.
Not sure though. Could be Akara’s since we probably both fucked her that night. Surprise.
You’re gonna be a grandpa.
I might be brazen enough to say shit I shouldn’t say to Ryke, but no way am I telling him that. I’d never announce Sulli’s pregnancy without Sulli. That’s a shitbag move. And I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a shitbag.
I watch his search continue. “No problem.”
A bracelet is the least of our fuckin’ worries. The throbbing in my temple increases, and I squint from the bright fluorescent lights. Fuck. I reach into my pocket and pull out some pain meds. Quickly, I pop a couple. No water, but I make do.
“Fucking A,” Ryke curses.
“Bro,” Lo warns.
“I know. I know,” Ryke growls at Lo and then looks to me. “I don’t think I have it.” As soon as he says those words, guilt and worry stretches across his face. “I must’ve left it in my jacket back at the hotel.”
“Can we call someone to pick it up?” Lo asks him, trying to problem solve for his brother.
I catch movement at the pool. “I don’t think there’s time.”
Swimmers emerge from the ready room. Crowds burst into applause, excited for the heats to start. Sulli’s sister and cousins spring up, cheering and waving pompoms and signs. Janie whistles loudly with her Aunt Daisy.
Noises echo throughout the stadium.
It pricks my ears. I’m barely blinking.
Canvassing the audience with a narrowed gaze until I land back on the pool.
Swimmers swing their arms back and forth and slowly approach the starting blocks. Everyone loitering on the stairs are rushing to their seats.
Everyone but me.
I want back down to the pool.
Near the ready room exit, I spot Akara standing stoically at a colorful wall—blues, pinks, and yellows blend together and Los Angeles Olympics with the year are printed in big white letters behind him. Press bleachers are only a few meters to his three o’clock, and large lenses are aimed at the water and ten lanes. But only eight swimmers will fill the lanes.
Officials cup their hands behind their backs and are scattered around the pool, tasked to judge the competitors.
I subconsciously touch my lanyard and badge that says security.
The fact that I can watch my girlfriend compete from the poolside is a blessing and a gift only granted to her closest bodyguards. And I’m not trying to completely waste this perk tonight.
But if I were a better boyfriend, I’d have the bracelet for her to kiss—for at least one heat. Knowing I’m about to reach her empty-handed is a gut-punch.
Sulli is shaking out her arms. Swim cap on, she wears a Team USA knee-length, bodyskin swimsuit. She said she doesn’t care about the bracelet, but Sulli is superstitious—and I’m praying this won’t fuck her concentration.
“It’s alright.” Loren’s words hang in the air, and for a dumb moment, I think they’re meant for me. His hand is on Ryke’s shoulder, comforting his brother. “She’s going to win without an ugly bracelet.”
Ryke shoots him a look. “Daisy made it for her.”
“Still stand by what I said.” Lo flashes a dry smile.
I need to be with Akara. “Thanks for your help,” I tell Ryke quickly. Before he can say anything, I rush down the stairs. Skipping a few.
“Slut!” some prick yells.
I immediately stop dead.
Awkward chatter melds with the normal commotion, and I see Connor and Lo restraining Ryke from barreling down the stairs towards a lower row.
Where is this prick?
“Sullivan’s a SLUT!”
Found him. He has his hands cupped around his mouth. A shit-eating grin. He can’t be older than sixteen, seventeen. His friends snicker, but the people around him drill nastier looks.
Comms crackle in my ear. “Price to Banks…ignore hecklers. Keep moving.”
I don’t work for Price.
But we’re all supposed to work together at the Summer Games. Teamwork. It might as well be the fire burning the Olympic torch, and I’d be an idiot to snuff it out.
I keep moving.
“Sluuuuut!”
I grit my teeth. He’s not loud enough to disturb the swimmers, but people shift uncomfortably in his section of the stands.
“She takes two dicks up the butt! Sluuut—”
“Hey!”
I whip my head back and upward. Ryke isn’t the first one to yell.
It was Sulli’s sister.
Winona Meadows hurries out of her row. Faster than Ryke can stop her. “Nona!” he warns. Greer shifts quickly out of his row. Attempting to keep pace with Winona.
Ryke is right behind Greer.
Like a bullet, Winona whizzes fast into the stairs between the sections. I’m further down. Watching as she descends and barrels towards this teenager. “You think you’re so cool?! You think you’re so funny?!”
He’s laughing.
I see hell in slow-motion. The girl—the girl with the high-bun who was recording me—she sticks her foot into the aisle. No other bodyguard has this vantage but me.
“WINONA!” I yell at the top of my lungs. Thinking she’ll stop.