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Untamed (A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance)(192)

By:Emilia Kincade


“That was always part of the agreement.”

“Well you make sure none of your fucking boys get their grubby hands on her.”

I’m breathing quick now, rage-filled at the thought.

“Don’t worry, Pierce. We’re professionals. But you get one thing straight. The only reason we’re here is because you didn’t finish the fight. The only reason, and I mean the only fucking reason, that Mogilovich is even considering doing a second round, is because he’s a greedy little fucking bastard, and double-or-nothing on a handicapped fighter was too good to pass up.

“Now, I have to front the extra fifty mil out of my own pocket for the little group of partners we’ve got. If you don’t win, you will die. Anton will break your fucking back and leave you here to rot. Nobody will ever find your stinking carcass until it’s nothing but bones after the rats are done with you. They won’t even be able to tell your identity by your dental records because I’ll have Micky here stomp your teeth out of your lifeless fucking mouth, and I will fucking keep them on a necklace, and then I’ll go find your mother, Penny’s father, and whoever the fuck else you have that you care about, and I’ll show them your teeth before I do the same to them. You fucking got that, you fucking cunt?”

I give Fallon a bland look. “Done barking yet?”

Fallon grows flustered. His face goes beet-red. “And your little fucking girlfriend? If you lose, she goes to work for Mogilovich. I’m sure you know what that means.”

I clench my jaw.

He just shrugs. “You reap what you sow. Maybe next time you’ll be a little smarter before crossing somebody like me.”

I spit on the floor, and wipe my nose with a finger. “Where’s the fucking tape?”

He grins, and claps at Micky the medic. He pulls out a roll of tape from his jacket pocket and chucks it at me.

“You got her into this, mate,” Fallon says. “It’s up to you to get her out.”

I start taping up my wrists, making sure they are tight, making sure I minimize all risk to sprain them.

“I’ll get her out,” I say quietly. “And then I’ll fucking break your leg.”

“What’s that, mate?” Fallon says, stepping closer. “Didn’t quite hear you.”

“I’ll… break… your… leg,” I tell him.

“Will you, boy?”

“Bet on it.”

“Come on, mate,” Fallon says, gesturing for me to get up. “It’s time.”

“I need water.”

“You need water?”

“You want a good fight?” I growl. “Hydrate me. Give me something salty to eat, and get me something sweet to drink. If you don’t I’ll cramp up. I’ve been sweating all night.”

“Something salty?” he echoes dumbly.

“Water retention!” I bark. “Gradients… Glucose and sodium. Didn’t you go to fucking school?”

“We’re not exactly near a corner shop, Pierce.”

“We came here in a fucking limousine!” I yell. “You dumb fuck, there’s a bar in the limo!”

Fallon grins, and looks at Micky who promptly runs off. He returns with a pack of peanuts, some candy, an energy drink, and a bottle of water.

“Drink the energy drink,” Fallon says.

“Fuck that,” I tell him. “I don’t need caffeine or yohimbine or whatever the fuck is in there messing with my timing.”

“He’s right, boss,” Micky says. “Might not actually be the best idea.”

“But it’s got, what are they called, electrolytes, right?”

“No fucking caffeine!” I shout, glaring at him. He puts up his hands, as if to say, ‘alright’.

I tear open the pack of peanuts and shove them all into my mouth. I suck the salt off them before spitting the peanuts out, one by one, until the last few that I chew up and eat.

“What a waste,” Fallon grumbles.

Next it’s the candy. They’re the cola-bottle type with sugar stuck on the outside. Perfect. I do the same, suck the sugar off, and then take a big gulp of water and swish it around my mouth. It’ll absorb into my blood stream quicker if it’s dissolved in water.

I drain the rest of the bottle, and hope that it’s enough. The salt and sugar should help me keep water in my tissue, rather than my bladder. The water will regulate my body temperature, lubricate my joints, keep me from cramping.

“So where are we?” I ask. “Judging by the drive, and the roads, I’d say we went west.”

“You’ll find out after you win this fight.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me, Fallon, and I’m injured. You might just lose twice as much.”