Chapter 60 #4
Then she smiles. Not at me. At him. “Laing… what are you waiting for?” Like she wants him to win.
I fucking lose it. I launch off the mat like a missile. Tackle Mortal Kombat into the side of the ring. He tries to throw me off. Too late, I grab his shoulders and drive my knee into his stomach. My elbow slams into his temple.
“She’s not yours,” I growl. “She’ll never fucking be yours.”
“You sure about that?”
He headbutts me. I taste blood again. The rest is a blur.
We trade savage blows. My knuckles are torn open.
His cheek is split and his left eye is starting to swell.
My ribs burn like fire. His shoulders are dragging.
By the time the bell rings, we’re both soaked in sweat and blood, breathing like bulls, but neither one of us down.
DING.
Bella’s still in his corner. Laughing. Smiling. Like this is a fucking game. She presses the towel to Laing’s chest, whispers something that makes him grin, and my jaw locks so tight it aches.
Rez leans on the ropes beside me, all calm steel. “He’s quick,” he says, voice low. “Don’t give him the rhythm. Make him chase you.”
I spit blood, drag in a breath that burns. Across the ring, Laing rolls his shoulders, loose and cocky, that smirk just begging me to lose it.
Rez slaps my arm once, sharp. “You’ve got the reach. Use it. Watch that left knee. It twitches before he swings. You catch that, he’s yours.”
I nod once, eyes fixed on the bastard across from me.
DING.
Laing doesn’t charge this time. No, the fuck-face is calm and loose. His stance drops, low and fluid, and then—bam—some freaky jiu-jitsu shit.
He wraps low, flips me. I hit the mat hard, breath punched out of my lung. It’s the same damn move that Bella used on me in bed.
This fucker taught her that.
“You bastard.” I grit out as the fury takes over. I snap. I fight with every ounce of rage in my bloodstream. Wild. Barbaric. Blow after blow. Elbow, hook, uppercut, anything that makes Laing bleed.
But the asshole just smiles, bleeding through his teeth.
“She’s always liked it rough,” he hisses, blood slick on his tongue. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Barinov. I’m surprised a Russian nobody like you could even satisfy her.”
Something inside me detonates. I explode into him. Fist to face.
CRACK.
His nose breaks beneath my knuckles with a wet, brutal snap. Blood pours instantly, running down his lips like war paint.
Bella slams her palms against the mat. “Come on, Laing!”
She’s shouting for him. For fucking Dragon-Dick! The crowd erupts, but all I see is red, and I’m not just talking about Mortal Kombat’s nose. Laing stumbles back, blinking through blood, and I charge again.
Left hook. Right elbow. Knee to ribs. No rhythm. No technique at this point. Just rage.
DING.
We’re in our corners, blood in my mouth and fire in my veins, when I see her. Bella. Walking across the ring like she owns it, because at this point every goddamn inch of this fucking Pit belongs to her now.
Knox’s voice crackles over the speakers. “Uh, Bella… what do you think you’re doing?”
She just waves him off, keeping her steel eyes locked on me. “Nothing, Knox. I just need to have a little chat with my boyfriend.”
Laing laughs at the world boyfriend. Asshole.
She steps into my corner, face inches from mine, and suddenly everything fades. There’s only her. My girl. My fucking queen.
Her voice drops soft and low as she sits down on my lap, taking the towel from Rez and wiping blood off me.
“Hey, baby.” Knox must have turned off her mic because her voice isn’t flowing through the speakers anymore.
“Hey,” I rasp, throat raw. “You here to finally take my side?”
She smiles. “Baby, I’m always on your side. Just a show remember, we had to sell it. Donor Fight and all. And it’s been one hell of a show, Lex. You’re doing great.”
My chest heaves. “But?”
“But,” she whispers, brushing her lips across my cheek running a finger down my chest stopping right at the top of my shorts, “I think I’m done with the show now. I’ve seen enough.”
I blink. “What?”
She leans in, straddling my lap like there’s not hundreds of people watching us. “I’m ready to go home now. To our home. You earned it, Lex.”
My heart stops. I grab her waist, pulling her in forehead to forehead. “Just give me one more second, malyshka,” I growl. “Then we go home.”
“Make it quick, Barinov.” She kisses my nose. Light. Sweet. Final. And then she turns, walking back toward him.
DING.
I don’t wait. I fucking launch. One left hook to the jaw that makes Laing stagger. He tries to pivot but I’m already on him. A savage right. A few knees to the ribs. And then one brutal shot to the temple.
He drops. Cold. Bloody. Unmoving.
The Pit erupts.
Bella jumps into the ring before Knox can even speak. She grabs my hand and throws it in the air. I barely hear the crowd. I pick her up, wrap her legs around my waist, and claim her mouth right there in front of everyone.
“Mine.”
Laing pushes himself up on one elbow, blood streaking his face as he stands. He glances at Bella, then at me, and holds out his hand. I hesitate. Tighten my grip on her.
Bella nods once. A silent thank you. He nods back. Just once. I shake his hand and then he walks away without a word.
I turn my eyes back to my girl. Her arms are locked around my shoulders. Her face still flushed. I kiss her again, slower this time. “Let’s go home, baby.”
@LucaWasHere
Nice match, Lexie. Such brutal flair.
But victory’s cheap when she isn’t aware.
Had to taste her past to stoke your flame.
Kissed her ghost just to earn your name.
You swing for blood when she draws the crowd.
But tell me, Lexie, you proud or just loud?
She cracked her smile to rattle the night,
While you stood tall on borrowed fright.
Predictable. Soft beneath the bark.
You only shine when the room goes dark.
You think she’s yours? You think she chose?
But you’re just the thorn not the fucking rose.
So heed this warning, laced in spite,
Let her move in, and I’ll snuff out your light.
You let her settle or let her taste your name,
And I’ll paint the walls with what’s left of your shame.
The game is changing. I’m realigning my path.
But don’t mistake silence for mercy or wrath.
Bow out, Lexie. Go home. Stay smart.
Before I tear your little kingdom apart.
@BarinovUnhinged
Cute verse, Luca. Real bold of you.
But you rhyme like a bitch, and we both know it’s true.
You stalk. You whine. You beg for a taste.
But I’ve already claimed what you’ll never replace.
You talk big shit through a goddamn screen.
But I’m the storm. You’re the roach between.
So send another poem. Send a prayer.
But know this, coward, I’ll always be there.