Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“You focus, yes, Rust?” Marquis roars in my ear over the deafening mayhem of the crowd.
I holler back, “He insulted my woman at the press conference. He threatened her. I’m taking his goddamn head off.”
“Fight smart.”
“His head is coming off.”
Nobody talks like that about my woman. Cain thinks he’s getting into my head, and he’s right, but it won’t end well for him. Speaking about my Mary with anything other than respect is a surefire way to get an ass whopping.
As the challenger, I’m forced to wait in the cage as Cain walks out to his country song, singing along. Soon, it’s time for the ref to call us to the center of the cage. Nothing else exists now, just this man, this target. He’s lucky the photos didn’t show my woman’s body.
“Last chance to apologize,” I tell Cain as the ref checks our gloves.
“For what?”
“Insulting my future wife.”
Cain laughs, flashing his USA flag mouthpiece. “She’ll be sorry she met your bum ass when you’re facedown on the canvas.”
“Okay, Cain. Okay.”
We go to opposite ends of the cage. Cain is standing almost in a wrestler’s stance, making his intentions clear. He thinks he’s going to grab me like last time, but last time, I didn’t have my woman. I didn’t have my child. There’s no better way to motivate a man, a warrior.
“Fight!”
I bounce out, acting like I’m going to start slow, and then I explosively feint a takedown. It catches him off guard, and he drops his hands. I flurry forward, a classic one-two, putting all my power into it, all the rage and primal savagery. I put the storm into the punch. I put the future into it.
When I try to hit him again, the ref pulls me away—no damn way. Holy shit. He’s out cold. The first two punches I threw. He’s on his back, the doctors rushing to him.
I run around the cage with pure adrenaline. Marquis runs in, throwing his arms around me. “How did you do that, you wizard?” he roars in my ear. “You genius! Yes, Rust, yes!”
“Where is she?” I yell, scaling the cage, ignoring the security. I’m grinning from ear to ear as I find my woman in the crowd, standing next to Brad. The cameras follow me as I clamber over the barrier and then sweep her into my arms.
She grabs onto me as I stare down at her, passion making my heart thunder. “That was for you,” I tell her. “For our baby, too. I-I was supposed to do this in the cage during the interview, but I just love you too much, Mary.”
When I kneel, she gasps so cutely, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes are sparkling with her tears, with the future and love. “I love you too.”
“Mary Allen…” I look up at Brad, and he grins, handing me the ring box. I take it and open it, showing the large, beautiful diamond, elegant, just like my woman. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she screams excitedly.
I cheer and slip the ring onto her finger, jumping to my feet and pulling her into my arms. She pulls herself close to me, kissing me. I want to sink into it badly, but I only kiss her briefly, not wanting the world to watch my woman like this. She claws onto my arm, then leans up and yells in my ear over the noise of the thunderously applauding crowd. “I think you should go get your belt.”
“It’s nothing compared to this,” I say, lifting her hand and kissing the ring.
“This is your big moment.” She nudges me stubbornly. “Go.”
I kiss her on the cheek, then climb back over the barrier as everybody claps. Turning, I look through the cage holes, first at my beautiful Mary, then at Brad. He’s grinning like usual, and I can tell he means it. Somehow, he’s forgiven us. He’s a better man than me. He’s my rock. My best friend. Still.
I’m the luckiest man alive.
EPILOGUE
BRAD
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
I didn’t need more proof that Brad and Mary were serious about their relationship. I’ve seen it over the past months, watched them together, the little looks, the evident love. I was the best man at the wedding two months after Rust proposed. I’d never seen so much emotion in him, never thought that the cold, stony-eyed Rust could feel that much.
He’s proved me wrong, and this proves me wrong again. I am holding my niece, little Nessa, Ness for short, because Mary wanted to honor Vanessa, our mother, but she wanted little Ness to be her own person. As I hold her, my eyes stinging with tears of love, Mary and Rust watch me. Even now, they still have that vague feeling of suspicion, like they think I will suddenly change my mind.
The truth is, though, I can’t think of anybody better for my sister. She has just the right amount of maturity, and he’s just the right amount of stunted. His childhood forced him to close off, but she’s opened him up. He’s like a new man. As he sits at her bedside, his hand in hers, they look like nothing but husband and wife. It fits in a way I never would’ve guessed before.