Kim Crawford Kickin It Novels & Stories

Carter says winking at me I kick him under the table ,he swears under his breath asshole. Later that day I see the guys off the kids have left Kaylee is in her room I think I walk up to my bedroom ready to shower the day away my wife is coming home in two hours I want to cook her a nice dinner ,run her a bubble bath with her favourite glass of wine then ravage her.

Chapter POV: Miller (Rival) The rhythmic, aggressive squeak of sneakers on the hardwood was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. Every time Kai Jameson took a shot, the sound echoed through the Crestwood gym like a taunt. He moved with a reckless, natural grace that made my skin crawl. It wasn’t just that he was the star; it was that he didn’t even seem to try.

I flinched at the sound of footsteps, eyes straining to open. Then came Bryson Schubert's voice—freshly arrived and ice-cold. It hit me like a slap. "Mr. Schubert, are you sure? Your fiancée's always been frail. She might not survive losing a kidney." That was his assistant. Kidney? Whose? Before I could even think, Bryson stepped closer, voice like frost. "We've come this far for that kidney. Hurry—Lily can't wait."

I continued to kick and scream until my throat and lungs were sore. I aimed my knee as hard as I could from the bed between his legs, and it hit its target as he cried out and released his grip. The other one lunged at me as I tried to make a run for it. I heard a noise and felt the electricity course through me. He had a tazer and he hit my neck with it. My whole body contracted, and I fell limp in his arms. He took the opportunity to throw me back onto the bed. Within seconds I was cable tied to the bed by my wrists.

He says in a small plea. I shake my head, unwilling to keep silent. I’m furious and if the entire world doesn’t hear it, William McQueen II will. “No, I won’t shut me up. You are to hear the truth. The Karen you knew is dead, this one is the new me and screw your opini–”

Everyone jumps to their feet as he books it the remainder of the distance to score the first six points of the day. Our box is losing their shit, everyone celebrating and screaming and chugging beer, glad to finally be off zero points. The kicker for the team is an incredibly short and skinny kid named Kendrick Pepper. He jogs onto the field, and after the sound dies down just a smidge, he runs and kicks the ball, a perfect punt through the yellow posts. More celebrating occurs, and, as expected, after the kick replay, the cameras filmed our intense freakout and reactions to the first score. We laugh and point.

The memory of him clinging to my clothes while struggling to breathe came back to me. He was swollen all over, and his face had turned purple. He kept repeating, "I want to live, Eva! I want to see you and Caesar get married. I want to see you start a family!" I called Caesar over and over, but he never picked up. All I could do was beg Joey to hold on while I hugged him in my arms in painful despair, telling him that his brother-in-law would be coming to save him. However, Joey did not make it. He died in pain from organ failure as he was unable to have the surgery to replace his kidney.

I said to him, and he only smiled at me. Kiran was called for his fight first, and I had to smile at the hush that went over the crowd when he was introduced as K, previous US Champion, and still holding the record for the most wins. Wild cheers erupted as the announcer, Kyle, finished, and Kiran took his shirt off. He still looked good, and I could see that in plenty of the groupies’ eyes as they watched him.

fierce? Hayes, on the other hand, was laughing. "That's more like it." He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He rolled his shoulders. "I'd hate to let you have all the fun." Then he charged into the fight. He grabbed one of the men from behind and pulled him backward. The man stumbled. Hayes kicked the back of his knee and he dropped instantly. Hayes grinned. "Too slow." Nova glanced at him. "Don't get in my way."

Every single time, I had been the one groveling for her forgiveness. But not this time. Never again. When Celine saw that I wasn't falling over myself to apologize and that I simply walked right past her instead, she froze for a solid three seconds. Then she grabbed my wrist, her face full of disbelief. "You're really holding a grudge over that?" she snapped. Just because Tristan Whitfield wanted to know how long I could hold my breath, she had kicked me straight into the pool. If someone there hadn't known CPR, I might not have made it. And she boiled all of that down to me holding a grudge.