Chapter 7 #3
But not more skill than I have. I speed up.
I take a hit to my side so I can land a stunner on Gregory’s gut, dropping him with a wheeze.
He didn’t have his abs tensed properly, or he’d have been able to withstand that, just like I have so many times before.
Spinning, I grab Leonard and flip him over my shoulder, landing him on the mat with a dramatic bang!
The crowd freaks out about that one, their cheers an odd mix of nerves and impressed enthusiasm.
With a second to myself, I glance at Young-gi. And once I see what’s going on, my smile grows. My bloodlust surges. Because Young-gi is fucking with him.
He’s playing around with Brian, startling him, faking him out, dancing around him, cornering him, getting in his head. The steel in Young-gi’s expression surprises me, because he so rarely expresses anything, but I can tell that he wants to do this; he wants to take out his anger on Brian.
Why Brian? Then I remember the library. Duh, I told Young-gi that Brian called his precious niece a fat, prudish bitch. If I were Young-gi, I’d want to take a pound of flesh out of Brian’s hide, too.
“Fuck you, bastard,” Gregory manages to wheeze as he and his brother get on their feet. We’ve still got over a minute on the clock. I smirk at them, give them a little ‘come hither’ motion with my glove. They lunge as one, both gunning for my face because fuck the rules, I guess.
I slip under Gregory’s sloppy tackle entirely, jamming my shoulder into his gut to lift him with a squat like I’m deadlifting, and slam him down again onto his stomach.
He grunts, and I laugh. Leonard takes the opportunity to get a hit on my cheek but I turn with it so it won’t do too much harm. It stings a bit, but I’ve had worse.
“He hit his face!” Lexie’s voice cries from the crowd but I don’t let it distract me. Instead, I let my anger take over and I tackle him to the ground, pinning him and trapping his arms at his sides. I hold my fist menacingly over his unprotected face, and now I’m the one jeering at him.
“Tap out?” I ask him sweetly.
Leonard struggles, but he’s stuck. I look up at Young-gi, and the edges of my smile wobble into something a little dreamy when I see that he’s got Brian pinned against the ropes, looking so terrified I wouldn’t be surprised if he pissed his shorts.
He’s wheezing and has one glove protectively on his gut, standing crooked, and I realize that Young-gi definitely got a few good hits in.
Too bad he left Brian’s face alone. I really want that smirk gone for good.
The timer starts beeping, counting down from ten as we near the end of the match.
Brian gets a fire under his ass and makes a last-ditch attempt to get a hit in, but Young-gi swings out of the way, sweeps Brian’s feet out from under him, and buries him on the mat.
He kneels next to Brian, and as the crowd of onlookers makes ‘ooooh’ sounds, he says something low enough that it won’t carry out of the ring.
“If you keep causing trouble in my house, I’ll remove you,” Young-gi says. Icy, dangerous.
Oh shit. Logically, I know Young-gi means he’ll kick Brian out, but the undertone is promising a shallow grave. I shiver, kind of liking that.
“Keep my niece’s name out of your mouth unless you’re paying her respect,” Young-gi finishes. “And stop acting like such a child.”
Child. Usually, it’s just a word. I don’t have a lot of triggers like that. But in my current mood, with my dreams last night still bugging me, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Even though it isn’t directed at me, I flinch.
Leonard takes advantage of my sudden slack muscles, writhing around until I limply slide off him. He mutters some curses at me, climbing to his feet, but I pay him no attention.
“I’m the only one that loves you, my precious little child.
This is what people in love do to each other.
This is how lovers touch each other. Isn’t it nice?
” He’s making me uncomfortable. He’s too close, he’s touching me and I want him to stop but then something happens in my body, and I’m too startled to say that I don’t like it.
“See this?” He points at the part of my body that is responding, the part he’s touching, the part that hasn’t ever been hard before but suddenly is. “This means you love me too; that you like it. This means that you want me.”
A brutal impact followed by a blinding pain in my bruised spine makes me choke on a scream, silencing it with a clenched jaw.
My back arches instinctively and my head swims. I feel the throb on my bruises where someone just hit me, but I don’t let myself wallow in the pain before I’m on my feet, trying to protect my weak spot by backing up …
into Young-gi. He takes my elbow to steady me for a second, and I don’t flinch away.
I’ll analyze that later.
“Cheap shot! Cheater!” Lexie is howling, pointing her dainty finger while Kira gasps and runs to my side of the ring. “Gregory hit him after the match!”
“I didn’t know the time was up,” Gregory protests, not at all convincing but going for it anyway.
I’m holding my breath and I’m starting to get dizzy, so I let it out in hissing little spurts, like one of those arm inflating thingies that measures blood pressure at the pharmacy. Hiss, hiss, hisssss the air out so I can try and inhale without screaming.
“Hey, what! Where–wait!” Gregory’s stuttered protests get my attention, and I watch in stunned silence as Young-gi drags both brothers to the ropes and pushes them up and over.
“Get out,” Young-gi orders, stern and biting and scary. “Before I decide to call your parents and let them know you’ve upset me.”
That, apparently, is a terrifying threat because not just Gregory and Leonard leave, but every single person there except for Kira and Lexie. Brian pauses at the door and sends us all a look dripping with vitriol and hatred, and the darkness in his eyes lets me know this isn’t over, then he leaves.
The girls beckon me over to them, so I take my gloves off and leave the ring. Just hopping to the ground hurts, now. Bastard hit me good.
“Tommy, are you okay?!” Kira asks, tears in her eyes. “Your poor back! What happened? Why is it bruised? I can’t believe he’d hit you like that, oh Tommy, I’m so sorry!”
“I’m alright,” I kiss her head and pat her like her uncle does. “There there, darling.”
She huffs a laugh and brushes my hand away, only to change her mind and grab my hand in hers, looking at me earnestly. “Tommy, I’m sorry that happened. We can call a nurse–”
I laugh at that, and pull her into an affectionate, probably-too-sweaty hug. “You’re too cute,” I giggle. “A nurse? What, am I five? I’ll be fine, I don’t need–”
“I have a kit,” Young-gi’s voice interrupts me.
Kira, Lexie and I turn to see him straddling a long bench with a big red first aid case beside his foot.
He looks at me, and just like that he’s got me on a hook.
His face says ‘don’t fucking test me right now’, his eyes say ‘I won’t repeat myself, so you’d better do as you’re told the first time’. I look away quickly.
But his stern voice is saying things, too. One word.
“Sit.”
I swallow hard, hearing the echo of our night in the library in my head.
“Let Mr. Sokolov take care of you,” Lexie insists, pushing me over toward him none-too-gently, then grabbing Kira. “We’ll go make you a breakfast plate, I’m sure you’re starving!”
“But I want to–” Kira tries.
Lexie hisses something into her ear that has Kira blushing as they leave, hustling up the stairs and out of sight. I sigh, but give in to the inevitable. Without any argument, I march to Young-gi like he’s about to execute me, and plant my butt on the bench in front of him, my back facing him.
“You got an ice pack in there or something?” I ask, not liking how charged the silence is.
“Bruise cream,” he says.
“There’s a cream for bruises?” I ask, then bite my tongue. I’m feeling too much like myself right now, but I need to be Tommy Claremont. Tommy Claremont probably knows about things like this.
“Mm.” Young-gi doesn’t seem suspicious, but when I hear a lid being twisted off a jar, I glance over my shoulder.
When I see him dip his fingers into some white balm, I suddenly realize that he plans on rubbing cream all over my back.
I whip my face back around to the front, staring without seeing at the bench in front of me, every piece of me anticipating his touch.
Suddenly, I’m all for getting bruise cream. The wait feels like forever, but also like it takes no time at all. Before I know it, he’s touching me. Young-gi is touching me.
Oh shit. I freeze. His fingers are warm, the cream cool. He starts between my shoulders in a long swipe that spans my back: slow, deliberate strokes with such soft pressure that it doesn’t hurt at all. It just feels… nice.
It shouldn’t get to me, but it does. Something about being handled like this, like I’m delicate, like I need this, like I deserve it, like he wants to do this for me, like this is what happens when I get hurt while he’s around, like I just get taken care of…
His touch is gentle and efficient. It doesn’t linger, doesn’t tease. But goddamn, I wish he would. I wish he would tease me, and linger, and slide his hands around to my front and maybe play with my pecs and my nipples a little bit–
Stop. I inhale long and slow, trying to keep my head clear and empty. Zen. Zen. Think zen thoughts.
I don’t actually need this. I don’t actually need someone to put cream on my boo-boos like I’m a baby. Like I'm a child. I was a child once already, and I sure as shit didn’t enjoy being one.
I don’t need anything.