AEDAN
I straightened up, groaning at the pain in my stomach. And saw Sylvie begin to circle me, dodging and weaving. At first, I was relieved. She’d started to fight. Hopefully now she could get some good hits in and—
I realized she wasn’t punching. She was just dancing around me, making it look good.
Giving me a target.
She wasn’t doing it for her own benefit; she was doing it for mine. I saw Rick looming nearby, gun drawn, and got the message: I had to hit her, and she was trying to lure me into it.
I lifted my fists...but I couldn’t. Sparring had been hard enough but actually hitting her, bare knuckle? I’d never raised my hands to a woman in my life.
“You have to,” mouthed Sylvie over the crowd. I could see tears in her eyes.
Behind her, Rick raised the gun. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot both of us, if we didn’t give him what he wanted.
I drew back one fist—and saw Sylvie flinch and brace herself. Oh, Jesus, no! I couldn’t do it if she did that! Christ, she was terrified. What am I doing? Even death would be better than this.
My death. But not if Rick killed Sylvie too.
To save her, I had to hurt her.
I did it fast, before she had too much time to be scared. I swung fast and got her right in the mouth. Her head whipped to the side and she cried out...and the crowd roared even louder. Jesus, the sick bastards!
When she looked at me again, her lip was split open and blood was dripping onto her tank top.
I’d picked the place where it would look the worst, to appease Rick, but where there’d hopefully be no lasting damage.
So I was ready for the blood. What I wasn’t ready for was the look on her face—the momentary shock and then the deep betrayal.
The look that no man should ever, ever see.
I looked at her in horror. Then I lunged at her and pulled her into a clinch, gasping in her ear so that she’d hear me over the crowd. “I’m sorry!”
And then the bell went for the end of the round and Rick’s goons were dragging us apart.