Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Was Sherryl to blame for his drug addiction? No. But she’d convinced him that he could trust, confide in, and count on her. And then she’d shit all over him.
“Speaking of your brother … I always intended to dump him, you know,” said Sherryl. “The plan was to hurt you through him. And it worked.”
Fury blazed through Casey. Sherryl had faked caring for him just as surely as she’d faked being a friend to Casey. “You didn’t expect to really grow to care for him, though, did you?” Just as Preston hadn’t expected to care for Mallory. The difference was that Preston had stayed with Mallory and built something with her. Sherryl had walked away from Miles.
“Your brother’s a nice guy and a sweet fuck, but he’s not ‘mate’ material. I told him that right before I tossed his latent ass out of my home. Hey, it’s not nice to snarl. Save that for the duel. I suppose we should begin that now.”
“Works for me.”
“I can see that you think you have this in the bag,” said Sherryl, a smirk playing around the edges of her mouth. “But since joining my new pack, I’ve been put through enforcer training. I’m faster and stronger than I used to be.”
“How awesome for you.”
Sherryl twisted her mouth. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you … do you have to work hard at being a hoe, or does it just come naturally to you?”
Oh, she thought she could get Casey to rush at her in anger? How dumb. “I’d probably find that insulting if I cared about your opinion but, yeah, I just don’t.”
“Your problem is that you think you’re—”
Casey snapped out her fist and punched the bitch hard in the jaw, making Sherryl’s head snap to the side. “Yep, that felt as good as I thought it would.” Casey exploded into action. She went at Sherryl from each angle with her fists, knees, feet, and elbows. She fought with everything in her—always did. It was just her way.
She put raw power behind every strike and mercilessly targeted every weak spot. She didn’t want to fight Sherryl, didn’t want to merely neutralize her. She wanted to make her hurt. Badly.
Having sparred with her in the past, Casey had gotten a good sense of her strength. Sherryl hadn’t been lying when she said that she was stronger and faster now. Hell, yeah, she’d learned some good moves. She’d also learned some dirty moves, and she didn’t hesitate to use them.
Fists flew at Casey’s temples, jaw, and nose. Feet kicked out at her knees, thighs, and sides. But Casey was always in motion, making herself a difficult target.
Casey sharply weaved and ducked, but she didn’t evade every blow. Some connected, and there was some serious power behind them. Worse, the bitch repeatedly targeted Casey’s recently healed arm—punched, kicked, and yanked at it, making it throb like a motherfucker.
The spectators were loud as they cheered, booed, and egged on whoever they were supporting, overriding Sherryl’s curses and snarls.
A palm strike to the solar plexus sent Casey’s breath whooshing out of her lungs. Growling, she thrust her claws into Sherryl’s breast, smiling grimly as the female hissed through her teeth.
Casey didn’t give her a chance to retaliate; she went in hard and fast, inflicting maximum pain and damage. Sherryl was careful to defend her vulnerable areas—particularly her head, neck, and face. But she wasn’t careful enough. Bruises and scratches soon marred her gaunt face, which delighted Casey’s mink.
Pain rippled through her body as a fist crashed into her ribs almost hard enough to break bone. She might have doubled over if that reflex hadn’t long ago been trained out of her. Instead, she swiped out her claws, carving into Sherryl’s chest, tearing open her jersey.
“Bitch,” hissed Sherryl.
“You think? Your dad used to call me ‘sweet’ when dry humping my leg.”
Sherryl’s eyes narrowed into slits of fury. She charged and tried grappling Casey to take her to the ground. That move failed, so the bitch lashed out with her claws, and a burning heat blazed along the side of Casey’s face.
Sherryl inhaled sharply and gave her a smile of mock sympathy. “Ooh, sweetie, that looks sore. We can stop if you need your mate to kiss it better.”
Ignoring the blood trickling down her face, Casey smiled. “Bless your little gangrene heart.” She went at Sherryl again. Fought hard, fast, and smart, making each strike count.
A hard jab of an elbow to Casey’s throat sent pain slicing through her and stole her breath. But she didn’t ease up. She swung her hips and snapped out her leg, ramming the heel of her shoe into Sherryl’s thigh, who spat a harsh curse.
Sherryl went to grab her ankle but failed—Casey had predicted the move and was able to pull her leg back in time. Snarling in fury, Sherryl lunged again, slashing and striking. Casey dodged, ducked, and jerked backwards to evade each move, but claws stabbed deep into her side and twisted. Son of a bitch. Then Sherryl punched her in the tit and, fuck, that hurt so much it almost brought tears to her eyes.