Page 103 of Doomsday Love


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I turn, heading toward to elevator for the hotel rooms. She catches up to me again. “Just think about it.” Her voice is desperate. I’ve never heard her like this before. Not on my behalf.

I look her over. Everything about her is begging me to do this… but I can’t.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why? Because you know you’ve probably hated him for false reasons for years?”

“No. Because it doesn’t make things better. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean I have to see him. I don’t want to get lost in his lies again. All he did was feed me bullshit when we were in Fox River.” I scratch the top of my head. “Look, I’m not going, Kylie. And I mean it… so just stop trying, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow morning or something. Have fun at the fight.”

Kylie stops walking, but I keep going until I reach the elevator. I can feel her defeat, but I don’t care.

I walk into the large box with the rest of the guests that were waiting and ride up to floor fifteen.

During it all, though, Drake is on my mind. And in each hallway is a fucking poster board with his face on it.

It’s like he’s haunting me—taunting me. Telling me only one thing.

I can’t resist him.

I need to see him.

I need answers.

But I don’t want to go to that fight. I don’t want to cave after finally getting my shit together. I don’t want to fall like I did before. Not for him.

Not for Doomsday.

Chapter 25

Jenny

“Hey?” Shane glues himself to me from behind. His body is uncomfortably hot, as well as the breath that trickles past my ear. “What’s up with you today?”

I drop my hairbrush, inhaling before exhaling. “Nothing’s up with me. I’m fine.” I’m lying.

“What was all that shit down in the casino—you staring at that poster like a crazy person?” He releases me and then steps back.

I turn to look at him. “It was nothing.”

He scans me up and down with thorough eyes, and I’m so glad when he shrugs it off. “Whatever you say. So, listen. Remember when I told you we have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah…?”

He smirks. “Well, I have a few friends that hooked me up with some tickets to a fight tonight. It’s a huge fight—heavyweights. Good entertainment for us. Also good enough to get us in the mood for a little hostile sex later on.”

My eye twitches, and fortunately for me his back has already turned. My heart drops and falls right out of my ass.

“A fight?” I ask, almost breathless. I try to remain open, formal. I fail. I know exactly which fight he’s speaking of.

Shane looks over his shoulder at me with a tilted brow as he adjusts his collar. “Yes. A fight. It will be fun. You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to go,” I state rapidly, rushing after him.

He looks down at me like I’m from another planet.

“I mean, I’d rather stay here in the hotel like you wanted. Have some drinks. Chill out.” My smile is complacent as I back my outburst up.

He steps forward, tilting my chin so our eyes can meet. “Jenny, I already have the tickets. I placed a bet on the fight. We’re going and that’s that.”

I drop my head when he releases my chin.

“So get dressed,” he continues. “And look nice. There will be famous people there.” He fixes his tie as he looks into the mirror. “When they see me they need to know that the woman I’m with is just as sexy.”

I turn around, hurrying into the bathroom. Smug bastard.

I shut the door behind me and then press my back against it. I hope the seats he has are far, far away from the stage so that he can’t see me.

And I hope Kylie doesn’t catch me there. I’ll look like a complete fool if I show up when I flat out denied her request in the casino.

* * *

Great.

Just. Motherfucking. Great!

Front row.

Of course. Of course it’s front row!

Why would Shane settle for anything less?

My heart gallops in my chest with each step we take closer to our seats. My eyes move frantically across the stadium.

It’s starting to fill up with bodies, and soon it will be filled with the presence of a familiar man that I know is going to dominate this place.

Shane holds me snug to his side as he walks down the aisle. When we make it to the front row, he goes down eight seats and then sits. I sit right beside him, and as I look up, I can’t help but stare at the cage.

It’s shiny and black. Clean. The mats, I’m sure, are just as clean—if not cleaner. I remember the time at the Dirty Dawg Pit.

Man. It was nothing like this. Those guys were animals. Shaking and rattling the cage. Growling and punching and kicking. It was daunting for a girl like me to witness. I’d never seen a fight before. It was my first time being a part of the experience.

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