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) 📕

job since he’s the security manager, and that’s why he’s willing to allow me to get a fill-in,” Ethan says, chuckling, looking a hell of a lot better.

“Fuck, it sounds sweet. I’m glad I can help out, and it’s also helping me out. Give me the address where I need to report to,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Awesome, you’ll be reporting with my buddy Ryan. I’ll let him know that you will call him later to get the deets from him. I’ll text you his number. How is this helping you,” Ethan says, smiling, pulling his cell from his hoodie pocket?

“I really need some money until my fight,” I say, running my hand through my hair.

“Right, I’m glad that this will help you out. Thanks,” Ethan, says beaming as he texts me the information.

“Okay, I’ll call Ryan soon as I’m done. Talk to you later; X and Ash are waiting for me,” I say, nodding walking away to the cage area to get my hands wrapped.

“Hey, you ready?” X says, cracking his neck, his thick neck muscles flex.

“Yeah,” I say, extending my arms out to get my hands taped.

“I think that sparring practice has helped sharpen your skills. I think that you stand a chance to win the fight,” X says, nodding. He looks at me, sliding the mitts on.

“Hell, yes, I’m so glad to hear that from you, X. I really need to win, so I’m giving it my all,” I say, smirking.

“Right, well, don’t worry because I know you will win. I’m looking forward to your fight in Vegas; come on, let’s get started,” X says, walking into the cage.

“Seriously, you’re going to be there?” I say, grinning.

“Hell yes, the entire team will be there, even Carlos,” X says, nodding.

“Awesome,” I say, walking behind X.

I step into the cage staring at Ash’s stone face as we bump fists. We start to spar, to throw some punches.

“Spencer, Ash, you need to engage,” X says, shaking his head.

Four

Spencer

Hell, this job is a little strange for me, the boss wants me in a black suit, white shirt, all of this just to guard a child. It fucking doesn’t make any sense. In fact, I think that it’s so damn absurd, but whatever.

I need the money.

The Dude Ryan wants me there at six in the morning, so I need to get going; I can’t fucking be late.

I walk out of my apartment complex, taking quick long strides down the walkway to get to my older Honda parked in the back of the parking lot. I pull the door sliding into the car, folding my big body to fit in the little space behind the steering wheel.

Fuck, it’s a tight squeeze!

I turn the car on, looking around checking that it’s clear, I pull out of the parking lot, onto the street. I make a right turn, merging onto the freeway. I drive as fast as I can, down twelve miles taking the exit, coming to a stop at the red light.

Fuck!

I look around for the building; okay, that’s the building over there.

I drive down the street, making a turn to enter the Plaza’s parking garage. I drive up to the tenth floor to meet Ryan Low, the security manager. I drive into the parking space next to the elevator, turning the car off. I exit the car walking towards the elevator as instructed, looking around the parking garage for the door.

Yeah, this seems to be the place.

I knock on the door, staring at the Plaza Security decal, waiting. The door opens, the Dude tilts his head, indicating for me to enter.

“Hey dude, you must be Spencer,” Ryan says, nodding, looking at me with dark, piercing eyes. He’s a tall, muscular man wearing a black suit with a white shirt and tie.

Yeah, the same fucking uniform that I’m wearing.

Isn’t this sweet, the Bobbsey Twins.

“Hi, yeah, I’m Spencer,” I say, looking at him, shaking his hand.

“Fantastic, come on in. I’m Ryan,” Ryan says, nodding walks into the office.

I follow him inside, down the long hallway, walking into the conference room.

“I’m glad that you’re punctual because I want to review your job description and tell you all about your charge. Mr. Ford wants his child protected at all costs, but the issue is that the child is difficult to handle,” Ryan says, chuckling.

“What do you mean? A child shouldn’t be difficult to babysit,” I say, grinning.

“Yeah, this one is, and she’s feisty. Have a seat, let me give you all the important deets on her,” Ryan says, shaking his head wryly.

I nod, taking a seat next to Ryan to look at the laptop, ready for the details. I listen carefully to every word he’s saying.

“This is the child, Dior Ford, she’s twenty-two years old, spoiled rotten, Daddy’s darling, and very challenging. You will need to be her shadow; you will protect her at all costs. The reason is her ex has threatened to kill her because she broke it off. Ford wants her protected until the bastard is taken out,” Ryan says, staring at me, trying to get a measure on me.

Of course, I stare back, stone-faced.

Oh, fuck!

She’s not a child!

Why the fuck didn’t Ethan mention this?

It’s a significant fact.

Damn!

She’s beautiful and sexy.

What the fuck am I getting into?

She sounds like a crazy bitch.

Crap!

“Right, taken out? Who is Mr. Ford,” I ask, rubbing my neck, nodding?

“Ford is the Boss, which means that he’s high up in the organization of the mafia,” Ryan says, looking closely at me for my reaction.

What the fuck am I getting into?

Shit, it really doesn’t matter.

I need the money.

It’s all good; this is only temporary.

“Okay, I can handle this,” I say, nodding.