18. Chapter Eighteen #2
This happened a few more times until Jae finally escaped the man’s hold.
Jae taunted the man again, and he staggered forward like a wild, angry animal.
Jae gripped him by the shoulders and swung around, using all his energy to push the man backwards.
They struggled, seemingly at a standstill, then the crowd erupted in cheers again.
They’d been so close to the edge; the man hadn’t even realized he was about to step over the rope until it was too late. He was still holding onto Jae when he realized his mistake. He shoved him away and swung.
Jae was too enamored by the cheering crowd to notice the man’s lack of sportsmanship. He took the blow to his jaw, and a wave of concern swept through the crowd before it turned to angry jeering.
The man was ushered out of the arena before he could strike Jae again, and Eli turned to find Grace.
Her lips were turned down in a frown, her brows pinched together in distress.
Beside her, Ellen spoke animatedly to someone at the edge of the stage.
Even from a distance, he could see her brows furrow and her eyes squint.
Taking care of business, he assumed. The man wouldn’t get away without repercussions.
As if she felt his gaze, Grace turned to Eli and forced a smile for him.
He subtly shook his head, sending a silent message. You don’t need to pretend for me.
She never had to hide her fears or her doubts with him. She didn’t have to be the epitome of perfection that her mother and everyone else in this town expected her to be. It was okay to have flaws and insecurities. It was okay to be sad or frustrated. It was okay to be human.
Her forced smile straightened into something resembling acceptance. Then her mother returned to take a seat beside her and motioned for the competition to continue.
Eli’s turn was next. Diane called him forward along with his match, Dom. Ah—that was the man’s name.
Loosening his limbs one last time, Eli entered the ring and Dom followed shortly behind him. They squared up.
Someone shouted, “Go!”
Dom was calculated with his movements, circling Eli, advancing when he could and retreating when he had to. Eli silently cursed the fact that he wasn’t reckless like the last suitor. Just his luck that he’d be paired up with one of the few competent fighters.
Dom wasn’t arrogant like Trevor, either. His face was hardened to stone, no mockery or taunting. His eyes were narrowed as he focused all his attention on Eli. It would be hard to exploit any weaknesses.
They continued in a delicate dance around the ring, neither making the first move. The crowd began to chant as their patience grew thin.
“Tackle him!”
“Get on with it!”
For these people, the Rite was a show. A form of entertainment. They didn’t understand how much was on the line for Eli. He refused to be careless with his chance to earn his place beside Grace.
But their calls had some effect on Dom. His eyes moved from Eli to the crowd and back again. Then he did it again. The third time, Eli was ready. He struck hard and fast, dealing a blow to his opponent’s jaw. Dom groaned, but his attention snapped back to Eli before he could land a second punch.
Dom spat blood into the dirt. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving his right side exposed. Eli didn’t have time to second guess himself. He took the opening and plowed into Dom, tackling him to the ground.
The sudden assault took Dom by surprise, and Eli knew he had to make each second count.
He dug his forearm into Dom’s throat, restricting his airway until his cheeks turned red.
With his other hand, he pinned Dom’s left arm to the ground and kneeled on his right arm.
Though he twisted with all his might, Dom wasn’t able to slide out from Eli’s hold.
He thrashed and bucked his hips, almost unseating Eli, but he was prepared for it.
With each wild movement, Eli adjusted and ensured that he remained on top.
Dom didn’t give up, though. Sweat formed on Eli’s brow, and he began to wonder if Dom would ever tap out.
Let him struggle, he thought. The more he wore himself out in the first fight, the less energy he’d have for the next one.
Eli was still in a position of power and exerting much less energy than Dom.
Eventually, Dom’s face turned from red to purple. What would happen if he passed out? Would he really allow that to happen before tapping out? Perhaps Eli had underestimated him.
Dom’s eyes went wide, bulging out of his head. He gave Eli a manic look and Eli almost felt sorry for him, wondering if he should pull back before he lost consciousness. Instead, he dug his forearm into Dom’s throat even harder, and finally, Dom patted the ground beside them.
Eli heard someone yell for them to cease and immediately fell back. Dom choked and sputtered, massaging his neck and glaring daggers at Eli. Ordinarily Eli hated violence, but he wouldn’t apologize for doing whatever it took to win.
Rising to his feet, he took a few deep breaths and used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. His arms ached, but it was a dull throb, nothing he couldn’t handle. He quickly shook them out and readied himself for the second fight.
If he could win this one, it would be over.
Dom moved slowly as he rose from the ground. He turned to face Eli, dragging his legs and breathing heavily. Eli’s confidence soared, thrilled that the first match had taken so much out of him. He could feel it—the win was almost his.