Chapter 42
Dash
“ I should have seen it coming,” says every future dead man.
My next heartbeat pounds through me with a vicious fury. Lucky for me, I ’ m not dead, so I get another chance.
Jared. Fucking Jared! He steps out into the fighting pit with a smart-ass smirk I want to carve slowly off his face.
Lying fucking Jared is my opponent! The ballet dancer.
“ Surprise.” Jared purrs. “ Do you know your father arranged your marriage to Mila when you were only six years old?” He lets out a whistle. “My dad told me one evening. I haven’t told anyone that, not even him .” He sneers.
How does he know that? Is it true?
And who is he referring to?
“ And I thought my dad was fucked up.” Jared chuckles. “ That gave me a lot of time to get exactly where I needed to be.” He steps closer, the smile vanishing from his face in a chilling manner. I want to rush him, but I hold my ground. “ Soon, I ’ m going to have everything I want. Your future.” He tilts his head, looking at me as if I ’ m a dead creature.
“ You ’ re not actually a ballet dancer.” I try to sound more annoyed and not furious.
“ Oh, I am.” He flexes his fingers. “ I mean, I had to become one in order to get close to Mila, to get into this school, to taste what was promised to you . You see, it plagued me. How do I become someone important enough to get close to you? Then I realized I had to remain a nobody. Fly under the radar and get close to Mila. She would get me closer to you, eventually. And look, she did.”
“ So I played my part, did everything that was asked of me.” Jared nods. “ I set my sights on Mila. She ’ s such a pretty thing to look at. I ’ ve spent years watching her, dancing with her. I know her every move, Dash. I know her better than you ever will. She ’ s mine.”
“ A contract says otherwise.” I gloat, maintaining this facade of slight annoyance so he doesn ’ t see how much his words are truly affecting me.
“ Your father killed my father!” Jared roars, losing his patience. His tongue swipes over his salivating teeth.
The crowd breaks out in a hushed whisper. At least they can ’ t hear our every word. I don ’ t want the dirty details getting back to Mila. I don't want her to live a life fearing everyone is a monster, even if it ’ s true. Mila can't handle that shade of gray, so I ’ m determined to shield it from her.
“ He ’ s killed many fathers. Most deserve it.” I reply coldly.
Jared ’ s jaw twitches.
I have the feeling Jared knows his dad fucked up, but he ’ s dead set on revenge.
“ So what did your loser father do to provoke mine?”
“ Nothing!”
I scoff, treating Jared like an idiot. “ Marcus King doesn ’ t waste time on nothing.”
Jared clenches his fists, the muscles in his arms tightening as his chest rises and falls with heavy, ragged breaths. His jaw locks, and his eyes darken with growing fury.
“ I’m guessing your dad got caught doing something he shouldn ’ t have.” I provoke, knowing I just hit the nail on the head.
“ My father was nothing but a worker who had a gun put to his head. He was forced to spy.”
“ He should have gone to my father and told him the truth. Your dad picked the wrong side and suffered for it, and now you will, too.” I take a purposeful step to my right as I begin circling him. Enough talking.
Desperation clouds his eyes as he mirrors my movements. The crowd inches closer, and students lean their upper bodies over the chalk line, eager to see the fight begin.
Jared ’ s eyes lift with pride. “ I tasted her. I know the sounds she makes when she starts to get wet. I know how her body reacts when—”
I interrupt him as my steps become firmer; my thighs tighten as I prepare to attack. “ Not like I do. She never let you sink your cock into her. She let me.” I smirk. However, on the inside, I ’ m disgusted with myself. I don ’ t want to use my time with Mila as fuel to this fire, but the outcome is a fast spiral into madness and loss of control from him. That's what I need.
His delightful smile falls down a fraction.
“ I will. I ’ m going to have her every single night.”
I pause, my feet digging into the dirt. “ Not even in your nightmares,” I respond with a cold malice that my father possesses.
Even if I die here, I know Cillian and Dante will never let Mila near Jared. I know she will be safe and protected.
“ Who said anything about asking? I ’ ll take her, regardless. The more fight, the better.” Jared ’ s eyes spark alive with a dark and twisted cruelty that I will never allow to even look upon Mila.
My vision narrows and turns into shades of darkness. The thought of Jared forcing himself upon Mila is like an ax swinging, then slicing through a simple thread. All my restraints vanish.
Poof.
I attack, heels digging into the dirt as I lunge towards him. I know as soon as I act, I made a mistake.
Don ’ t care.
I commit fully, even though I ’ ve handed Jared the upper hand. He ’ s faster, stepping to the side with ease. The sounds of his laughter are the last thing I hear clearly. Before I can recover, his hands clamp down on my shoulders like iron. Hands that would destroy Mila if I fail. With a swift motion, he swings me toward the ground.
The world tilts as I fall, dirt rushing up to meet me. The crowd roars with cheers and gasps, creating an intoxicating cocktail I ’ m forced to swallow down. But just before I hit, his foot slams into my ribs. Pain explodes in my side, and the breath is violently ripped from my lungs. The air escapes me in a wheezing gasp, my body paralyzed for a moment. It feels eerily familiar—like the bone-crunching agony when I broke my leg.
My vision blurs, and I fight to stay conscious as my lungs try to fill with air again. The taste of copper sharp on my tongue.
A heavy weight presses down on my torso as Jared straddles me and punches me twice. If I hadn ’ t turned my face at the last second, he would have broken my nose. I ’ ve been in this position before. Cillian forced me to practice it. We all knew my opponent would try to get me down on the ground. I jerk my hips up, bucking Jared off balance, and then I free myself as I tuck and roll.
I see students cheering, yet all I perceive is that familiar buzzing blocking out any other distractions.
I waste no time because I have not one second to spare. I push myself up, the dirt grinding painfully deep under my fingernails.
Mila.
If you lose, he will have her.
Mila.
I land a punch.
Jared wipes the blood from his mouth and laughs darkly. “ I know the sounds she makes when you kiss her. She made those sounds for me.” He tips his head back slightly as if he ’ s at ease and on a beach vacation. “ I dream about those sounds.” His eyes darken. “ I can ’ t wait to hear them again.”
I can play this game.
“ I can ’ t wait to hear them, too. I will, Jared. I ’ ll be the only man to hear them.” I flex my fingers, pumping blood into them. “ You won ’ t live to see the sun. You ’ ll never see Mila smile again; you ’ ll never hear her laugh. You won't hear, taste, or touch. You will feel absolutely nothing because soon you will be nothing.”
Jared ’ s fist swings toward me, a blur of force. I duck just in time, feeling the air from his punch brush past my ear. My own sweat drips into my eyes, blurring my vision for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest as I retaliate, swinging low in a desperate attempt to bury my fist in his ribs hard enough to break his heart.
The moment my fist slams into his side, pain radiates through my knuckles like fire, but I don ’ t stop. My mind blanks, focused on one thing—bringing him down. I drive my fist into him again. Then again. The sound of my fists pounding against flesh echoes in the chaos, and I land four fast, brutal punches. My body moves on instinct, unrelenting, fueled by the need to feel one of his ribs crack beneath my knuckles.
I won ’ t stop until I hear it. Until I feel his body break.
Mila ’ s face flashes in my vision. It ’ s like she ’ s a breath of life awakening something truly feral and monstrous inside of me. My next inhale is sharp and pained, as if I ’ m a newborn, never having truly breathed in the purpose of life before.
That ’ s when it all clicks. What the true meaning of love is. It is a purpose, like a godly being, that gives me strength yet threatens to damn me all at once.
Love is the most forgiving thing I ’ ve ever encountered. Love forgets because it needs to in order to survive. Love endures so it can continue to grow. My love is the reason why I feel, and it ’ s those tidal waves of opposing emotions that don ’ t allow me to utter the words back to Mila.
Jared lunges for me. I turn slowly and purposefully, but I barely escape him. It was worth it because as I glance at Mila. She doesn ’ t notice. That panicked look of fear in her eyes pumps more adrenaline into my blood.
If I don ’ t kill this fucker, he will kill Mila slowly.
With a swift, calculated move, I drive my heel into Jared ’ s ankle. The force is brutal, and his balance wavers. He stumbles, tripping over his own feet. The moment I hear the unnatural twist of bone, I know I ’ ve got him. His ankle buckles beneath him, sending him crashing toward the ground.
But I don ’ t wait for him to fall. I lunge forward, adrenaline surging through me. Just as his body teeters in midair, I leap, twisting with precision. My foot cuts through the air, and I drive it straight into his jaw with a sickening crack. The impact sends his head snapping to the side, his neck twisting violently. His eyes glaze over, rolling back as he collapses, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
For a moment, the world holds its breath. The crowd is silent, stunned by the force of the blow. Then, as if on cue, a murmur spreads through them, growing louder. Their eyes are fixed on Jared ’ s body, but his chest rises—barely, but enough. He ’ s still breathing.
The crowd erupts, roaring for more, their bloodlust ignited by the sight of life still clinging to him.
“ Is your opponent unmoving, Dash King?”One of the conductors ask.
Clearly fucker.
I know what they want. They want me to make a decision. To hold life in my hands then either allow it to live or snuff it out.
I wish I had the strength not to look at Mila. I can see that her body would have fallen to the ground if it wasn't for Dante, still grasping her, forcing her upright. The look in her wide, hazel eyes is that of a plea that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
It’s her pleas that I can never answer. I can never give Mila what she wants, but I can give her what she needs in order to live. She needs her enemies vanquished, and who better to do that than a soulless king. I could never let Jared live after this. A man out for revenge only ever has that taste on his tongue.
Mercy.
That’s what her lips are trying to tell me.
Killing him is the mercy, little fox.
I shake my head then turn toward Jared. I flex my fingers. I’ve never killed with my bare hands before, there is something disgustingly primal about it. As if in doing so will change the threads of my fate.
This is my life. Some moments are worthy of hanging on the wall, whereas others are patchwork quilts tossed aside into a moth-filled cabinet, slowly being chewed on until bare strings are left.
This, I flex my tingling fingers, is who I was raised to be.
There’s a classic question on the tip of my tongue, Chicken or the egg? What came first, the taste for violence or the need to survival?
I kick Jared. He doesn’t move except from my impact. He’s unconscious. I wish he were awake and wildly fighting. Killing him that way would make me feel better. I swing my leg over his hips, crouching down and then I stretch out my hands as I prepare to choke the life from him.
Finally I hear it, the roaring shouts, the panicked gasps from my fellow students. I don’t peel my eyes off of Jared yet somehow I can feel Cillian’s eyes widen with hope, his large shoulders expanding as he relaxes knowing I’m about to win. Knowing that fucker, he will want to eat his weight after this.
I sense Dante too but he’s not as relaxed as Cillian. His eyes are more stoic, ever pondering the fate that binds us all together.
I wonder what Titan and Damian, my cousins would think of me now. Maybe they are doing the same thing but somewhere else.
I grab Jared’s neck, his skin is hot and slick from the fight, a mixture of sweat and blood coats the tips of my fingers. He makes no reaction. I feel the faint pulse under my index finger. One finger with the tip of a life on it.
Then I squeeze, his face reddens as I begin to choke the will power from his heart. A part of me feels like I’m sacrificing a little piece of affection Mila and I hold for one another. She will hate me after this.