Chapter 3 #2
I’m mildly surprised when neither of them reaches for a weapon, despite the start of the fight. Instead, the woman lunges forward and sends the man into retreat. He reaches for her, clearly more interested in close combat, but she dodges his hands at every move.
She slowly pushes him back, and I realize what she’s doing when they end up against the cage wall. He doesn’t have the space to draw his longer blade from his back. She’s taken away one of his options.
He finally grabs her, shifting his weight as if he’s going to flip them and pin her to the chain-link fencing. It would give him a lot of advantages.
Only he doesn’t realize she didn’t move because she was too busy reaching forward.
She rips one of his smaller blades from its sheath on his chest, and as he steps, she jams the knife into the soft spot above his knee.
She combines that with a kick, her weight already shifted back because of his hold on her, and he drops to the injured knee.
I shift forward, my interest only growing. I’ve seen plenty of violence, but never have I been so enraptured before. Watching the way she works through this is fascinating.
The man wraps an arm around her waist as he drops, using his weight to shift forward and slam her back into the mat. But she’s already rolling before he can pin her. She’s back on her feet, gaining space that she needs.
He rips a new blade free as he pushes back up to standing, no longer content to let her take the lead. He rushes her, and to my surprise, she doesn’t leap out of the way. Instead, she takes the brunt of his hit, slamming to the mat.
She shifts before they even fully land, getting her knee up against his shoulder and rolling. It flips them and allows her to wrap those long legs around his neck while she twists his wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon.
Tossing it away, I notice that she’s managed to cost him two of his blades without even drawing her own. But his strength makes up for the lack of weapons when he grips her thigh and sits up, only to slam back down.
The force is enough to loosen her hold, and he shifts on top of her, landing blow after blow to her ribs. She looks pinned now, unable to fight off his weight.
Until she stops protecting her face, instead dropping a hand down to twist the blade above his knee. Shoving his leg back, he collapses as she rolls them again. But it’s clear she’s pissed now, given the way her eyes blaze, and she rips the knife from his leg.
Immediately, blood starts to gush, and I have no doubt that he won’t be able to put any weight on it. But the woman ensures that when she reaches behind her and slices the back of his other heel, severing the tendon. Before he can recover, she’s back on her feet and out of his reach.
Blood is soaking the mat now, and the audience is screaming. There seems to be equal support for the fighters as many shout for him to get up. But I can see the tremble in his muscles from here. He made a mistake the second he let her take the lead, and now he’s paying for it.
Still, he tries to follow her, relying on his upper body strength to push himself upright and pull out the last knife from the sheath across his chest. He flips it, pinching the tip, and flicks his wrist.
It’s good. I’ll give him that. Most people wouldn’t have been able to dodge it given how fast he moved and how accurate his aim is.
But the woman steps out of the way before it fully leaves his hand like she knew he would do it. Like she anticipated it being his last resort.
She rushes him before he can even process that he missed, leaping at the last second to wrap her leg around his throat and flipping him forward so that he’s locked in a chokehold between her thighs.
His hands struggle to pull her off of him, caught in her grip, but she leans forward, grabbing the handle of the last weapon—the longer blade strapped to his back.
“You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you?” She rips it out as he sputters, too weak from the blood loss to pry her off of him. Fuck, the sultry tone of her voice makes me wish she were threatening me instead. “I didn’t think so.”
She rolls to the side, giving him the breath he desperately needed. He sucks in two greedy gasps before he’s choking all over again. But this time, it’s because she plunged the blade straight into his throat.
She steps back, admiring her handiwork with a soft look of pride on her face. And fuck, I’ve never seen anything hotter.
I’m impressed by the entire match. Her blades never even left her sheaths. It’s clear why she’s so damn good—she’s strategic as hell.
Unlike the start of the fight, she spins toward the crowd, taking a dramatic bow and giving them a wave. When they scream in excitement, a grin pulls at her lips.
Then, she turns toward the smaller group of interior spectators, doing another bow. As she straightens, her eyes land on me—and they don’t move.
Our gazes stay locked as she stands, everyone still screaming around us. I know she must recognize me, but she doesn’t cower or look awestruck—which is a common reaction here at the cages where people love the blood and violence I am so frequently bathed in.
Instead, those lips curl up more, and she blows me a fucking kiss, like I’m an adoring fan. Like I’m lucky to be in her presence.
Then she turns on her heel, stalking off toward the door that leads out of the cage, her dark curls swinging behind her. And I sit stunned as I stare after her, feeling shaken down to my core.
* * *
Two weeks later…
Lochlan’s shoulder shoves mine, shaking me out of my thoughts. When I cut my eyes at him, he raises a brow.
It’s only then I realize that the weapons manager and Jude are both staring at me, too. Which means I missed something when I stopped listening.
“What?” I ask, not giving a fuck if they know I’m bored out of my mind.
Ever since we decided we were coming down the mountain, I’d been tempted to tell Jude I was going to the cages.
After the last fight I watched, I’ve known better than to chase after a woman that was clearly nothing but trouble.
Full of fire and spirit that I’d love to let burn me, even if it was a bad idea.
Unfortunately, I’ve been trained a little too hard to make logical decisions, and I suppose—logically—the woman is no good for me. She’s cunning. Probably unpredictable. And someone that I shouldn’t be getting close to.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve thought about her nonstop. Even though I forced myself to leave after her match and never asked Jude to find out her name. I thought I could put her out of my mind, but she’s been there, eating away at my sanity.
I’m not sure I even want to stay sane if it means I have to keep away from her.
She’s gorgeous and violent, a perfect storm. Given that little kiss she blew me, I bet she’d have a sick sense of humor—my favorite.
And every part of me has been dying to find out.
“You good with the shipment?” Jude leans in to ask, clearly noticing I missed the question being repeated.
I just give him a nod, knowing if there was a problem, he or Lochlan would have caught it. Instead, I’m rethinking my stance of heading across the city. Maybe I should get my hands a little bloody, find a new high to ride.
“I’ll get these boxed up,” Lochlan says as he glances over at me. I can tell he’s trying to subtly ask me what the fuck my problem is.
I lean in so only he can hear me. “I need to check on something. I’ll take Jude. Get the other two to help you.” I nod toward the guards at the back of the room.
“You need to check on something without me?” Lochlan’s tone is disbelieving, his accent heavy as he says each word slowly.
“I’m not going to be stuck here watching you box shite up, now am I?” I raise my brows with a tilt to my lips. It’s our way to fuck with one another, but I’m also being serious about the mind-numbing activity.
Lochlan rolls his head to the side, pouting. “You’re going to have fun without me?”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I am.” I straighten, looking over at Jude, who is definitely finding amusement in the interaction. “Let’s go, Jude.”
“Behind you, boss.” But his tone is far too teasing. He even plays up the slight accent he’s picked up from working with us for so long, just to poke Lochlan farther.
He glares at the both of us. “If you aren’t back in time, I’ll find my own entertainment.”
“Well, no one wants that, Lo.” I hear Jude chuckle behind me as we exit the room. “I’ll be back in time to babysit you.”
I glance back to see his nostrils flare, and I know it is killing him not to call me an arsehole. But he’ll have to bite his tongue until we are back at the compound. Then the little shite can provoke me all he wants.
Jude waits until we are in the car for him to finally ask, “Where are we off to?” He looks slightly suspicious since I haven’t cleared anything with him yet.
I don’t look in his direction. “The cages.”
He doesn’t respond, nor does he start to drive. Instead, he waits me out.
I sigh as I drag my gaze up to meet his in the mirror. “Say it.”
“You understand what time it is, yeah?”
“Jude?” He raises a brow. “Just drive me there.”
I half-expect him to push further, but he doesn’t. Like Rohan, Jude often watches something play out instead of asking too many questions. It makes him damn good at his job, and sometimes, unnerving.
That’s the problem with surrounding myself with people who are always assessing everything I do. They’re annoyingly cunning, and sometimes, it bites me in the arse.
Jude is silent as he drives to the back entrance of the cages. Since the sun is still up, no matches are going on right now, but I’m not interested in watching a fight. Instead, I’m going to pull the information on her fight and decide what to do with it later.
I could ask Jude to find it for me, but I’d rather keep this to myself. As long as I can, anyway.
The people in my life have an annoying habit of not allowing me any secrets.
“I’m going in alone,” I say as soon as he stops the car.