11. Dan
DAN
For the first time, I was having second thoughts. I’d seen many iterations of Lincoln Bellingham’s anger, but this time, it was different. He looked murderous, ready to kill me without a second thought.
“If I die, tell my mum I died a hero,” I instructed Neo. He laughed, which was rude. How was he even able to breathe properly, let alone laugh, with the waves of suffocating hatred coming from the middle of the ring?
Lifting my hands, he examined my wrapped knuckles. “You’re good to go. Get in there and give the people what they want.”
“For me to die? Can I use my knuckleduster to give me a fighting chance?” I shot him a hopeful look as I dug my mouthguard case out of my back pocket and fitted my mouthguard.
“You know the rules. No weapons, unless the other party agrees to it in advance.”
Well, there was no way Lincoln was gonna agree to that. Even so… I patted my pocket, feeling the reassuringly solid metal weight beneath the fabric. Given his murderous rage, it was best to be prepared for all eventualities.
Bare-chested, with my sweatpants riding low on my hips, I flexed my muscles for the appreciation of the crowd.
Someone didn’t appreciate my display, and that person’s name began with an L and ended in “bellend Bellingham.” His voice rose over the noise of the crowd in a challenging roar.
“Stop wasting time. Come and fight me, you fucking coward!”
One thing I was not was a coward, and him calling me one was a guaranteed way to piss me off. That, and the fact that he’d just had his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat, doing his own time-wasting.
His girlfriend. My jaw clenched. My friend Liana had told me about the rumour that she’d heard from Enzo’s sister, Vesper, but I’d brushed it off.
Yeah, I’d seen him coming out of what I now knew was Kimberly’s bedroom, the morning after the night that would never be mentioned again.
And yeah, Vesper was one of Kimberly’s housemates, so she was in the know, but even so, I hadn’t believed it.
Bellingham tying himself to one person? It was unimaginable.
He slept with just as many women as I did, if not more.
Except it wasn’t unimaginable now, was it? I had real, physical proof, and it made me unreasonably angry.
My gaze slid to him, taking in the way he was practically vibrating out of his skin with rage.
Yeah, he was probably pissed off about the rumour I’d sweet-talked Maisie into spreading, but I had just as much reason to be pissed off as he was.
And I was nowhere near murder-rage levels.
Not even on irreversibly maim levels. More like mess-him-up-and-make-him-bleed levels.
Which told me Kimberly meant a lot more to him than I’d originally realised.
Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
Instead of doing his bidding and facing him in the centre of the fight zone—because the day I did his bidding would be a cold day in hell—I jogged around the edge of the ring, high-fiving and fist-bumping Cranham students.
When I’d completed a circuit, I knew I couldn’t stall any longer, so I sauntered into the marked area, coming to a stop opposite my enemy.
His hazel eyes were dark and thunderous, flashing with fire. Or maybe lightning was a more appropriate analogy. His lip was curled, and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Hate radiated from his pores.
I mustered up every bit of my confidence, aware of all the eyes on us, and I smiled. He bared his teeth at me.
“Hmm.” I stepped closer, the crackle of murderous rage emanating from him making goosebumps pop all over my skin. Making a show of rubbing my hands together, I flicked my gaze up and down his shifting muscles. “Looks like you’re ready to unleash the beast. This should be fun.”
“You are the most pathetic fucking excuse for a human being I have ever met,” he snarled, hate dripping from every word. “I’m gonna make you regret ever being born.”
Like a switch flipped, familiar rage swelled inside me, and I got right up in his face, shoving my chest into his. “You’ll regret ever fucking crossing me.”
He pushed back against me, his body vibrating with tension.
The second Neo gave the signal, we lunged for each other. I hit him with a punch in his unprotected left side, then followed it straight up with an uppercut, my fist striking the underside of his jaw. He swore at me, countering with a savage jab to my ribs that I wasn’t quick enough to evade.
After that, we exchanged glancing blows and kicks, neither of us managing to get in a serious hit. He came for me, and we grappled with each other, raining blows on each other’s sides and backs, until I managed to get my legs tangled with his, almost toppling us both to the ground.
We righted ourselves, both panting for breath, and I immediately switched it up, hitting him with a double jab-kick combo. He staggered backwards, and I went with him, smashing my fist into his face.
Two things happened in quick succession.
His lip started bleeding, and I realised he wasn’t wearing a mouthguard. My brain was still processing that when his own fist came straight for my face. Stars exploded across my vision, my head snapping back with the force of the blow.
“You fucking wanker!” I shouted, swiping at the blood pouring from my nose. “You’re gonna pay for that!”
“Wrong.” His hand rose, metal gleaming in his palm, and all of a sudden, a loud whistle sounded, and Neo was pushing between us.
He snatched the pathetically small knife out of Lincoln’s hand and then passed me a bunch of wadded-up tissues.
“For your nose,” he muttered before turning back to Lincoln. “You broke the rules. Weapons are only allowed if both opponents agree beforehand. The fight is forfeit.” Stepping back, he pocketed the knife. “You can have this back when you learn how to play by the rules.”
Lincoln bared his teeth at Neo, but he seemed to remember where he was because he didn’t attempt to argue. Good. He thought he could play dirty and get away with it? Not here. Not with me. And not with that toothpick masquerading as a weapon, either.
Holding the wad of tissue to my nose, I reached up with my free hand, yanking my mouthguard out and throwing it to the ground.
“This isn’t over,” I snarled, my chest heaving.
We were both sweating and breathing heavily, but I knew he was about as ready to back down as I was. “I’m not fucking done with you.”
His eyes darkened even further. “I’m not fucking done with you, either.”
“You’re both done for tonight,” Neo said. He took the tissues from me, gently prodding my nose. “The bleeding’s stopped, and nothing’s broken. Go and get some rest.”
I nodded, but when he’d returned to the edge of the ring of spectators, out of earshot, I met Lincoln’s hard gaze.
“We finish this tonight.” Turning my back on him, I stalked out of the fight area, the crowds parting for me.
I knew he would follow, and I had to trust that he had enough honour to hold off attacking me until we were out of sight.
The problem was that we were too conspicuous here. There were too many people around. That only left one place. The hockey house. All my housemates were here at the fight, which meant we’d have privacy.
As I walked, I unwrapped my hands, letting the tape fall to the ground, and then discreetly slipped my brass knuckles on.
“Where are we going?”
I ignored Lincoln’s question, picking up the pace.
Something immediately caught my eye as the hockey house came into view, and I stopped dead in the middle of the deserted country road next to the exterior prison wall.
Bellingham must’ve forgotten about the concept of personal space because he ran straight into my back with a grunt, his hands flying out to land on my arms as he steadied himself.
I stumbled, twisting away from him. “Watch where you’re fucking going.
” Before he could aggravate me with more pointless words, I slapped my palm over his mouth.
“I wanted to finish this at the house, because I thought everyone was at the fight. But the kitchen light’s on, which means someone’s home, so we can’t fight there. ”
Ripping my palm away, he shoved at my chest, hard, sending me flying into the wall. “Fine. Here’s good.”
My skin scraped against the rough stone, and I hissed, the sting joining the bruising already inflicted on my back. Then Lincoln was all up in my face, his hand wrapping around my throat in a tight, punishing grip.
I stilled, unwanted memories burning through my mind. His grip tightened, digging into my skin, and I gasped. “Can’t. Breathe.”
“Good.” He increased the pressure, and I did the only thing I could think of.
I drew back my hand and punched him with my brass knuckles.
The pressure was instantly gone as he flew back with a cry of outrage. Hopefully, there was some pain in there too. I wanted him to hurt.
I only had time to take one gulp of air before he was coming at me again. Too bad for him, my recovery time was fast, maybe even on the superhuman scale. So I was prepared, spinning and twisting, pressing him face-first into the wall and wrenching his arms behind his back to hold him immobile.
“Fucking hate you,” I snarled into his ear.
“Fucking mutual.” He bucked his body, swinging his leg backwards and catching me right in the shin. In the ensuing struggle, I lost my grip on him, our bodies too slick with sweat to get a proper hold as we grappled with each other, neither of us able to gain the upper hand.
Until he did. Somehow, he managed to pin me to the wall with his body weight, his thigh braced between mine and his fingers wrapped around my neck as our chests mashed together. Again. This position was becoming nightmarishly familiar.
I brought up my hand, pressing my brass knuckles against his throat. “Don’t even think about trying to strangle me again. Do you know what would happen if I punched your windpipe with this?”
He swallowed against the metal, leaning into the pressure. “Your little toy doesn’t scare me.”
“No? It should.” I dragged it over his skin, and his breath stuttered. Yeah, that was what I thought. Fucking liar.
His tongue swiped across his lips. “Explain,” he rasped.
“Explain what? I didn’t come out here to talk.”
“I want to know what the hell you thought you were doing, spreading that rumour. Why were you using Kimberly to get to me? Don’t bring other people into our shit.”
“Not everything is about you, Bellingham.” Leaning in, I pressed my mouth to his ear, ignoring the shiver coming from his body.
I honestly might have hallucinated it. This fucking knobhead made my senses go haywire.
“I’ll let you into a little secret. I was doing a favour for a friend, and her opponent was just a bonus.
How was I supposed to know your girlfriend would be so easily convinced? ”
His hand moved from my throat to grip my jaw, yanking my head back. Our eyes met, and my stomach jolted. “She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” he ground out.
“Liar.” My lips skimmed over his as I formed the word. I wished I’d imagined it. But no, it was my turn for my breath to stutter at the shock of his touch. Drawing back out of the danger zone, but with our faces still way too close and his breath hot on my skin, I inhaled sharply.
Then I immediately wished I hadn’t, because every single one of my senses was filled with Lincoln Bellingham.
Oh, fuck. “I saw you kissing her,” I bit out, rage filling me all over again at the vivid memory.
“She took me by surprise.” His thigh shifted, generating friction that had me biting down on my tongue, a gasp escaping from my mouth despite my efforts to silence myself.
Holding his gaze, I managed to speak again, savagely ignoring the heat of his hard muscle against my throbbing dick. “I had her first.”
“You said that before.” His mouth was too close again. “Don’t even fucking think about trying to give me another—”
“Shut up,” I growled. “That’s never happening again.”
“Why bring up the fact you had her first again? I don’t give a shit who you stick your dick into.” His grip on my jaw tightened, his fingernails raking over my skin. “Want to know what I think?”
“No.” In retaliation, I pressed my brass knuckles into his throat. “I told you to shut up.”
“I think you care who I fuck. I think you can’t stand the thought of me having anyone you’ve had. I think it twists your mind, knowing that they’re interested in me, not you.”
My heart pounded against his chest, and I could feel his hammering too. I inhaled again, getting another lungful of him, and it was abruptly all too much.
A single word forced itself from my throat, dragged from the depths of my fucking soul. One word that condemned me to my doom.
“Please.”