Chapter 15 Champion
Chapter Fifteen
CHAMPION
Istepped onto the carpet and raised my hand to wave, flash bulbs going off all around me. The media coverage was thick. I made sure my smile was, too.
“Death-Hammer, is it true what they say about your wife? Did she really get food poisoning in Japan?”
I smiled.
“Death-Hammer, did you and your wife split? You’re not wearing your ring.”
Still smiling.
“Death-Hammer, are you with Jezebel now?”
I turned and helped said monster out of the back of the black sedan. We were doing understated tonight. Pinkie said a limo wasn’t in the budget. Jezebel flashed a shark smile at the reporter who had asked that last question.
“Shall I kill him?” she murmured out of the side of her mouth.
“You’d have to kill all of them. It might discourage them from supporting the games.”
“Pity.” She walked ahead of me, clearly not with me, even if I had done the chivalrous thing and helped her out of the car. Who said chivalry was dead? I smiled as I walked slowly, taking the time to autograph some t-shirts and other promo material.
I smiled, signed, let people take photos with me, ignoring questions and small talk.
Nothing mattered except making it through this fight, and taking my trophy and bruises home to show Kitten.
I didn’t even know where home was. I didn’t try too hard because I respected her.
Also, Flowers was the right person for her to ask if she wanted to disappear out of my life permanently.
I moved up the steps and into the main lobby of the casino that was hosting this season’s first fight. Horse was my contender, so we’d make it look good.
I hadn’t seen Kitten for a week. Six days of work, settling the House of Beasts, and getting everything finalized for the season, too much work, not enough time, but somehow I still managed to miss her every second of every day.
Nothing else mattered. If I knew where she was, I wouldn’t have been able to focus until I saw her, made sure she…
Well, she was suffering worse than any psychopath could torture her.
I’d asked her to live, and she was trying.
The guilt ate at me like rats in a pantry.
I finally made it to the green room, and there was Dirk on his computer, checking cams, eating licorice, like the world wasn’t ending at any moment.
“I have clothes in the car waiting to take you the second the last bell rings. Flowers sent it, so it could have a car bomb.”
“Good, good,” I muttered, yanking off my jacket and draping it over the chair. “Can’t cut it short or I’ll be disqualified and not win,” I muttered. That was mostly to my beast, who was as anxious to get to the prize as I was.
“Jezebel said that she’s likely been unconscious this whole time. You haven’t been missing anything.”
I stopped, turned my head slowly, and glared at him. “I’ve been missing my wife breathe. I’ve missed hearing her heart beat. I missed watched her sleep.”
He gave me a concerned look. “Right. I forget how psychotic you are until you say something like that. Are you in danger of killing Horse? I guess we’ll see.”
I scowled at him. “I’m not killing anyone. That would disqualify me.”
“Ah. That’s what you meant by ‘cutting it short,’ killing him. Yep, you’d definitely be disqualified and lose the prize.”
I glowered at him. Not winning was unthinkable. I had to see Kitten or…I’d take a deep breath and exist. I’d do my work. This anxiety that was eating me up was nothing compared to her pain. She wanted me to suffer like this, so that’s how I’d take it. And be grateful that she’d asked for anything.
I paced that room, knowing that I’d dressed too early. The opening fights were still going. I should be watching Daniel kill his opponent, but I couldn’t do anything so civilized. I needed my wife. Whatever she could give me, even if it was nothing but pain.
Finally, the bell rang, and it was my turn to enter the ring.
“Remember, don’t get disqualified,” Dirk called after me.
“Obviously,” Jezebel said, falling in beside me. “Are you in control? Good. Trix would be sad if she didn’t have anyone to rail against on girl’s night.”
I walked towards the ring, ducking under the ropes, trying to act invested without showing my unhealthy fixation.
“Death-Hammer! Kill him!” came from the crowd.
I raised my hand and people screamed.
Horse ducked under the ropes and got his share of cheers. He smiled blindingly at Trix, where she sat close enough to see him bleed. They were wasting time. If I had someone I wanted as much as Horse wanted Trix, I wouldn’t waste a second.
Speaking of, the bell rang and I was on him.
He was ready, like he knew how frustrated I was.
He kept a strong defense while I beat on him, then came back with his own when I left him an opening.
We were professionals. We could fight for the audience even when we’d rather rip the world apart until it hurt as much as we did.
He fought harder than I expected, like he was respecting my strength, holding his own until the bell rang and we broke apart. I went to get water, and there was Jezebel to give it to me.
“You’re fighting pretty, sugar. Two more rounds.”
I nodded and then stepped back into it. During the second round, I heard a laugh that had me looking past Horse, distracted when I saw DuPre standing in the aisle, eating popcorn with a smirk on his face that said that he knew where my wife was, that she was his, that I would never see her again.
Horse’s right uppercut came out of nowhere, sending me sprawling.
And that was the second bell. I rolled to my feet, shaking it off. No. If he had her, he wouldn’t be at my match. He was here to mess with me. He didn’t know where she was, and he didn’t have a car waiting the second the bell rang.
“Sorry about that,” Horse mumbled through his mouth guard.
I shook my head. He shouldn’t apologize for doing well. We circled, aware of those watching us, of the stakes. He wanted to look good for Trix, and I didn’t care about looking good at all. The only thing I cared about was in a hospital bed somewhere, suffering in silence.
I smiled at him. We were almost done, and I could finally go home.
I longed for her and home so much, my whole body ached with it.
I had more energy for that last round, and I used it, focusing on technique, working the mat, and using this chance to stretch my capacity.
He matched me until the very last second when I feinted right then slammed him with my left hook.
He fell back as the bell rang, and I was out.
I raised my hand not waiting for the ref, then ducked under the rope and started jogging towards home.
I was almost to the door when a gun report sounded at the same time something tore through my chest. I broke into a run, my mind feeling the pull of those with guns aimed at me.
I pushed their aim off almost automatically while the beast engaging in case any other bullets hit.
I wasn’t stopping to see who was shooting at me, to take care of them. Jezebel and Dirk would handle it.
I hit the hall and ran faster, blood pumping along with my arms. When I got to the side door, I had a good streak of blood soaking my yellow shorts. Good thing I had an extra change of clothes in the car.
Outside, there were guys waiting. Flower’s men. The lead took one look at me, and then they swallowed me, guns out, around me while I jogged to the car.
I slid in the backseat and bumped into Flowers before I backed off. “Sorry about that. There was supposed to be clothing in here?”
He frowned at my bullet wound. “You need to get out the bullet.”
I waved a hand. “Sure. We’re going to a hospital. Roger’s great with bullets.”
He sighed heavily. “If she sees that, she’ll worry about you.”
I shrugged. Ow. That bullet did not feel good. Better than not seeing my wife, though. “How long’s the drive?”
“Thirty-five minutes.”
“Do you want to pull out the bullet now? I should be healed by the time we get there if you’re quick.”
He pulled out a knife and smiled slowly.
I swallowed hard while he brought it close to my skin. I’d been stabbed by his poisoned blades twice, but I didn’t move. He cut into my chest then pulled out the bullet with a pair of long tweezers, doing the job as slick as my silk shorts.
“You missed your calling as a surgeon.”
“Actually, I didn’t. In my other life, I’m quite the renowned neurosurgeon.”
I stared at him, rubbing my chest and feeling weird. “Huh. So you’ve been helping with Kitten’s medical issues?”
“I paint with her when she’s awake. She makes two strokes to my two hundred, but it slows her heart rate, helps her relax.”
I nodded. “That’s good. Not really her medical issues, though.”
“I’m on the team for her health plan. She doesn’t need brain surgery.”
“Right.”
“One of her ankles didn’t heal properly after she broke it when she was a child. I’m not that sort of doctor, either. I do more precision work.”
“Brains.”
He smiled at me again. “That’s right. Instead of going to school and learning something useful, you went straight to street fighting. If you were a woman, you’d probably be a prostitute.”
“No doubt. I am currently selling my body to the public as a point of marketing.”
“Well, one must pay for one’s health care some way.”
I smiled at him. He was almost funny. “One must. You said you want to fight. I don’t trust you to punch anyone in public, not until we see what that serum enhancer did to you. But a rooftop brawl, private betters, it could be lucrative and enjoyable.”
“How would your wife feel about you prostituting her father?”
“I have no idea, but I can’t wait to ask her.
Last thing she said she wanted was a theme park.
That’s right, I forgot to get Pinkie to make me a theme song.
” I leaned on my knees, close enough that I could read his eyes.
They were as cold and calculating as you’d expect a brain surgeon’s eyes to be. “How is she?”