Kicker (DS Fight Club Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

with a wink.
    Dear Lord, save me from a matchmaking trainer.
    Tig stepped out the side door into the cool night air and called his mother back.
    “How’d you do, sweetheart?”
    “I won, Mama. And I got Fight of the Night, too.”
    Hattie Mashburn gasped. “Trevor, that’s wonderful. Oh, honey.”
    “Yeah, it’s pretty great. There’s a good bonus that coming with the Fight of the Night thing, too.”
    Hattie stayed silent on the other end of the line.
    “I don’t know when I get the check, but it’ll be pretty soon. I’m going to come down there and talk to the bank, Mama.”
    “Trevor, honey, that is not your responsibility. . . .”
    “No, but I’m going to make it my responsibility. What are you going to do if you lose the farm? Where will you live?”
    More silence.
    “Mama, everything will work out.”
    “There’s another balloon payment due, Trevor.”
    “What?”
    “Floyd took out another mortgage to cover seed and payment. . . .”
    “The year after the flooding . . .”
    “Yes.”
    “And it’s due now.”
    “Yes.”
    Tig leaned his head on his arm and squeezed his eyes shut. Dammit, Floyd.
    “I’m still going to talk to the bank.”
    “Trevor . . .”
    “Mama . . .”
    Hattie sighed. “You’re such a good boy, you know that?”
    Tig huffed a laugh. “I’m almost thirty years old, Mama.”
    “You’re still my baby boy. Go celebrate. I’ll see you next week, okay?”
    “Okay, Mama. I love you.”
    “I love you, too, Trevor.”
    Tig turned his back to the brick wall and leaned his head back in resignation. He could not win for losing.
    His phone buzzed again. He fully expected for it to be his mother, apologizing, but it wasn’t.
    Fight night tomorrow. Same time, location.
    You in, Kicker?
    Tig looked at the message, quickly responded, and went back into the pub.

“Man, it seems like I was just doing this,” Ryan muttered as he taped up Tig’s hands. At Tig’s unusual silence, he looked at his friend. “You okay, Tig?”
    “I don’t know. This is weird. The whole feel of this night is weird.”
    Ryan nodded in agreement.
    “Tig . . .”
    “I’m fighting, and then I’m getting my cut, and I’m getting the hell outta here. Something’s off.”
    “You drive the truck?”
    “Yeah, I did. I almost got hit on my bike last time—scared the shit outta me.”
    “Hey, Goody, you finish taping up your girlfriend?”
    Tig saw Ryan’s jaw clench.
    “Ryan. Not. Worth it,” Tig murmured out of the side of his mouth.
    Ryan exhaled and nodded. “Gimme five, Carter, and then I’ll service your mom.” Ryan rolled his eyes but grinned when he saw Carter scowl.
    “Fuck you, Goody. I’m sending the next fighter over to you.”
    “Sure.”
    “That guy’s an ass,” Tig muttered.
    “That guy’s always been an ass, but he’s worse since he’s taken over his old man’s construction business.”
    Tig looked around the half-empty construction yard. It did not seem like anything had moved or changed in the past two years. But then, it probably hadn’t since Carter seemed to be more interested in holding illegal fights on the grounds than actually getting construction contracts.
    Ryan put one last layer of tape around Tig’s wrists. “Feel good?”
    Tig nodded. “Thanks, Goody. I mean it.”
    Ryan patted Tig on the shoulder. “I know it.”
    “Oh, hell no. He’s not wrapping me, Carter. I want another cutman.”
    Tig’s head snapped up. Holy fuck .
    Damon Pierce, heavyweight brawler and all-around jerk, stood and glared at Ryan, who met his ferocious gaze.
    Carter rolled his eyes. “Goody, you gotta problem with Pierce here?”
    “Yeah, I gotta huge fucking problem with Pierce, but I’ll wrap him just like I do anyone else.”
    Carter held his hands up. “What do you say, Pierce? He wraps, or you don’t fight. That’s the deal.”
    Pierce grudgingly agreed and took Tig’s place on a small table.
    Tig watched Ryan carefully wrap Pierce’s hands, taking as much