Wildcard (Stacked Deck Book 1) by Emilia Finn

Wildcard (Stacked Deck Book 1) by Emilia Finn

Author:Emilia Finn [Finn, Emilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beelieve Publishing, Pty Ltd
Published: 2020-04-09T16:00:00+00:00


At the end of a sweaty sixty minutes, I stand by my bag, chugging icy cold water, and grinning. A good session will make even the grumpiest person smile, and Reid turned it up tonight. For my benefit, maybe. Or perhaps that’s a typical class, but when I got to spar with Kyle Baker, and his grin grew when he realized the new girl could fight, I preened under the brothers’ silent praise.

I’m a peacock, just like my uncle. I’m a showoff, though I know I shouldn’t be.

My father has tried to teach me humility the way he tried to teach his brothers, but sometimes people just aren’t inclined to be quiet.

“Good session.” Reid stops beside me with his own sweaty hair and water bottle. He was running the class, but he wasn’t just standing around and shouting orders. He was one of us, teaching and learning, ordering and performing. “You like legs?”

I shrug and give no shits when water dribbles along my chin and onto my chest. “I like it all, but tonight we stood, so I used my legs.”

“You prefer legs over fists?”

“Who doesn’t? Legs stretch further and keep my head out of reach. I prefer not getting knocked the fuck out.”

Chuckling, he waits for me to toss my bottle into my bag and pull my pants and sneakers on. “Ever been knocked out in competition?”

I shake my head. “Not unconscious. I’ve gotten a TKO, because the bitch disabled my leg.” I tie one shoe and begin on the other. “But I haven’t been sent to sleep. I’m too fast for that.” I stand tall when I’m done, and swing my bag over my shoulder. “You?”

He snorts and walks toward the stairs beside me. “A few times, but our competition isn’t like yours. We have… uh… less rules.”

I roll my eyes and head out of the oppressive heat of a bunker and fifty people working out, and head up the stairs to the cold. “So basically, you’re baboons that like to whale on each other?”

“Well, that’s a little rude,” he teases. “But yeah, pretty much. We just like to compete, so we do.”

“Do you hook up with other gyms and fight? Like an interclub type thing?”

“One or two, but it’s not something we’ve been able to organize yet. Mostly we’re doing the baboon thing, and have plans to go bigger someday.”

“Which is why you want to talk to my family?” I watch him from the corner of my eyes as we step out of the tunnel of stairs and onto the grass of the park. “You think they can help you?”

He shrugs. “I think they know organized competition, so maybe they could mentor us in a way, so we can get it up and running.”

“I doubt they will.” I dig my hands into my pockets and slow my steps under the billion stars high above. To anyone else standing in this park, the cold breeze that tickles the ends of my hair and the sweaty strands that stick to my neck is just that; cold.



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