Spencer: Bad Boy MMA Cage Fighter : Bad Boy Fights The Fight Of His Life For His Girl! (An MMA Fight by P.T. Macias (distant reading TXT) 📕

“Okay, let's wrap it up,” Rock yells, clapping his hands, looking at the clock. He walks out of the cage and down towards the lockers. X walks out of the cage, shrugging.

I stop, taking a few steps back, staring at my training partner Ash. We're standing in the cage for a few, trying to regain our breaths.

“I’m so done,” I gasp, rotating my shoulders, closing my eyes. I inhale profoundly and exhale trying to get my tense muscles to relax.

Fuck! My entire body is one huge throbbing ache.

“Hey, let’s go to the club,” Ash says, grabbing his towel. He wipes the sweat off his face. He looks at me, raising his eyebrows, clearly waiting for my agreement.

“Yeah, okay, let’s go,” I say, nodding. I walk towards the door of the octagon cage. Ash follows me out; we walk over to the bench to grab our water bottles.

I’m so fucking thirsty, I gulp down my water, and then I pour an ounce of water over my face to cool off. I then wipe my face with the towel.

“Let’s hurry up because I want to grab something to eat before we go,” Ash says, smirking, turns striding off towards the shower.

“Right,” I agree, nodding. I walk after Ash, thinking about my fight in a few months. I feel confident and ready.

Two

Dior

Oh my god, I’m running late! That’s all I need because I know my Father will make a stink about my tardiness.

I hate this with a passion because I would love to drive my car, have the freedom that any other girl has, and not have these apes lurking at my back everywhere I go.

It’s for my safety, Father says. But I feel like I’m actually living in a gilded cage, and I hate it.

“Hurry up, Alfred, I’m late,” I say to the driver inhaling deeply and reaching deep for patience. I close my eyes, trying to control my heartbeat, taking deep breaths to control the nerves.

I don’t know why meeting with my Father always gets me all worked up.

“Yes, Ms. Dior,” says Alfred, nodding.

Alfred glances over at the other guard, Peter, that’s seating in the front passenger seat. He raises his right eyebrow in warning to remain quiet.

A few minutes later, the SUV stops in the reserved parking space. I pushed back my hair, turning to grab my cute red leather Gucci purse. The passenger rear door opens, and Peter waits for me to exit.

“Ms. Dior,” Peter says, stepping back, extending his hand to assist me. I slide to the edge of the black leather back seat of the black SUV.

I hold onto the guard’s hand sliding one leg out of the door, placing my foot onto the concrete walkway. My hair falls over my face as I look down, pushing my other leg putting my other foot on the concrete. The guard releases my hand, and closing the door, stands next to me.

“Ms. Dior, Mr. Ford is waiting,” Peter says, nodding.

I nod, pulling down my dress, adjusting it around my thighs. I really think my dress is really cute; it has ruffle cap sleeves with a V-neck in a dark red scuba crepe material. I adjust my black knee-high suede boots with five-inch heels.

These boots are definitely my favorite!

I adjust my hair before walking onto the sidewalk. I roll my shoulders and straighten my back as I walk towards the huge building belonging to my Father.

Father wants to talk to me, and I hate this. Every time that he requests to meet at his office, it’s always about something that he wants me to do or have someone do for me.

Yeah, yeah, I’m spoiled, but sometimes I would love to be just like any other girl. I’m always on a schedule, but it’s my Father’s schedule. I have dreams and goals that I would like to fulfill. So, I’m left continuously waiting for the opportunity to start, because at this moment I can’t do what I really want to do, and that’s to help children.

I did work hard to earn my nursing degree, but Father doesn’t want me to work. He wants me to marry and have children as if it’s easy to find a good man. They all want only one thing, and it’s not happening. I’m not going to be any man’s toy. I deserve a faithful, loving husband.

So that’s why I broke it off with Roger. He has tons of women following him around, so I know he’s not going to change. I don’t care who he thinks he is.

Sure, he’s a Capo, but I only gave him a chance because Father wants me to marry Roger to strengthen the organization, but it’s not a good idea; in fact, it’s the worst. I don’t want my man to have anything to do with this organization.

I enter the building staring straight ahead, walking down the hall to the elevator. I stop to wait for the elevator looking at my perfect manicured fingernails. Finally, the elevator door opens, and I walk inside, sighing.

Thank God it’s empty, so I don’t have to engage in any small talk.

I push the button, crossing my arms, looking up, watching the numbers climb. The elevator stops on the top floor, the doors slide open. I walk out into the vast foyer, taking off my dark glasses. I flip my hair over my shoulder, walking towards the receptionist, smiling.

“Hey Nancy, how are you? I believe that my Father is expecting me,” I say, resting my slim, right hand on the countertop.

“Hi, Ms. Dior. I’m doing great, thanks for asking. That’s correct, Mr. Ford is expecting you. Go right ahead,” Nancy says smiling, holding her pen.

“Awesome, thanks, Nancy,” I say, nodding.