FORTY FOUR
P oison strode into the office the following morning, the fluorescent lights overhead doing little to lift the fog of fatigue that clung to her. The faint hum of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation created a backdrop that felt both familiar and distant. She moved through the cubicles, her presence commanding subtle nods and whispers from her coworkers.
Each step echoed the rhythm of her heart, a constant reminder of the night she couldn’t shake from her mind. Scorpion’s touch, his voice, the raw intensity of their connection—every detail replayed in vivid clarity. She could still feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his hands as they claimed her, the way his eyes bore into her soul, stripping away every layer of defense she’d built.
“Morning, Miss Sloan,” a voice interrupted her reverie. She looked up to see Sarah, her assistant, offering a tentative smile.
“Morning, Sarah,” Poison replied, forcing a smile. She had no energy for small talk. Her thoughts were too tangled, too chaotic.
In her office, she sank into the chair, the cool leather welcomed to the warmth she felt whenever she thought of Scorpion. She turned on her computer, the screen’s glow pulling her momentarily back to the present. But even as she scanned her emails, her mind drifted.
The night with Scorpion was more than just physical. It was a collision of their worlds, a merging of pain, desire, and something deeper. She could still hear his growl, feel the way he moved inside her, how his presence filled every void she never knew existed. Her skin tingled with the memory, a phantom touch that lingered.
Though Reaper’s confession haunted her as much as the night with Scorpion. He said that she wasn’t supposed to have been at the ring, that she shouldn’t have seen him kill her brother, but she had seen him do it, the cold, calculated murder masked by his claim that her brother stood in the way of them being together. His intense eyes, once a constant presence, now only reminded her of betrayal. His love, tainted by such a monstrous act, was a burden she wasn’t ready to bear.
She tried to focus on her work, but her thoughts kept slipping back to Scorpion. The way he held her, the way he made her feel seen, understood, desired. It was a dangerous connection, one that threatened to unravel everything she had fought to build.
Closing her eyes, she tired to focus her thoughts on her work, but her phone vibrated a few times in a row and the screen on her watched displayed Scorpion’s name. She unlocked her phone, and read through the seven messages that had come through, while smiling like an idiot at her phone.
I miss you
I miss your smile
I miss your smell
I miss your mouth
I miss your taste
I miss your moans in my ear
She struggled to keep the heat from scorching her cheeks and pooling between her legs.
As the day wore on, she struggled to keep her focus. Reports and emails blurred together, her mind a haze of conflicting emotions. She needed clarity, but all she found was chaos.
By the time the office emptied out, she was no closer to finding answers. She sat back, staring at the darkened sky outside her window. The city lights blinked
like distant stars.
She thought of Scorpion, of Reaper, of the path she was on. Her heart ached with the weight of it all, the uncertainty, the fear.
Poison gathered her things and headed toward the parking lot, the cool night air a welcome relief against her heated skin. Her thoughts were still tangled when she saw him—Scorpion, leaning casually against his bike with his hands in his pockets, his eyes lighting up as she approached.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” she teased.
“From you?” he beamed. “Never.”
She managed a smile in return, the sight of him easing some of the tension that had gripped her all day. “Doesn’t that make me feel special?”
His smile widened, and he reached out, pulling her close. “Well, that you definitely are.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until stars danced at the corners of her vision.
They stood like that for a moment, the world reducing to just the two of them. The parking lot was almost deserted when they strolled to her bike, but her heart stuttered when she saw a familiar figure leaning against her bike.
Reaper.
The moment Scorpion saw him, he immediately shoved her behind him in a defensive position.
“Young love,” Reaper sneered, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.
“What do you want?” Scorpion demanded, stepping forward. He towered over Reaper by at least five inches, his presence radiating protective fury.
“She already told you she didn’t want you,” he added, pulling her closer to his side.
The gesture was both possessive and comforting.
Gunnar and Dennis appeared out of thin air, flanking them. How did she not notice them before?
“Oh, I’m not here for her,” Reaper scoffed, flicking some invisible dust from his jacket with an air of nonchalance. “I came here to set a challenge.”
“She’s not going to fight you,” Scorpion fumed, his voice a low growl.
“Like I said,” Reaper continued, undeterred. “I’m not here for her. I came to challenge you.” He emphasized his point by poking Scorpion in the chest, a gesture he slapped away with a snarl.
“Just say when and where,” he growled, his jaw clenched tight.
Horrified, she had to step in.
“Scorpion, no!” she pleaded, stepping between them. “You can’t. Please don’t accept it.”
But her words fell on deaf ears.
“Two weeks from today,” Reaper declared as if she were invisible. “Just you and me. A death match. Let them,” He nodded to Gunnar and Dennis. “be witness as declared by underground laws.”
All the air escaped from Poison’s lungs. Scorpion couldn’t accept this challenge. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—but he did.
“Phillip! He’s not worth it,” she begged again. “Let’s just go, please?”
“Are you going to allow your little whore to decide for you? Are you that scared?” Reaper sneered, his lips curling into a sinister smile.
Poison turned to Scorpion, trying desperately to get his attention away from Reaper, but it was no use.
“It’s on,” Scorpion growled, his voice low and lethal. “I accept your challenge.”
Poison turned to Reaper, intent on making him leave, but he caught her off guard. “Great!” Reaper beamed and, without any warning, kissed her.
The shock froze her, and by the time she regained her senses, Reaper had already walked away. Scorpion was the first to react, lunging forward, but Dennis and Gunnar held him back, their grips firm.
“Let go of me!” Scorpion bellowed, his voice vicious. “I’ll kill him!”
“The challenge is set,” Gunnar hissed. “It’s no use. Let him go.”
“Get off me!” he yelled again, struggling against their restraints.
“Gun is right, Scor,” Dennis said. “You can’t break the two-week treaty.”
Poison placed her palms on Scorpion’s iron chest, trying to calm him. “Phillip, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation.
Scorpion thrashed for a bit, bloodlust blazing in his eyes. Once Reaper was out of sight, the two men released him. The moment their hands were off him, he sprinted after Reaper, rage propelling him forward.
Poison stood there, her heart pounding, fear and worry knotting her stomach. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. And the worst part was, she had no idea how to stop the impending storm that was about to break over their heads.
For the rest of the evening, Poison never saw or heard from Scorpion. She tried looking for him at his place, but he wasn’t there, so she found herself at The Grave Bar. To her surprise, Gunnar and Dennis were playing pool as she walked in.
“What are you two doing here?” she asked, walking over to them.
“It’s not a bad place,” Gunnar answered and his eyes flicking to Cat behind the bar didn’t go unnoticed. “We like it here.”
“I bet you do, but seeing as I have you here now, have you seen Scorpion?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.
Gunnar looked up from his game, raising an eyebrow. “Poison, do we have to do this again? You start by saying ‘hello’ first.”
She sighed, impatience gnawing at her. “Hello. Have you seen Scorpion?”
“I haven’t seen him,” Dennis said with a frown, missing his shot. “We thought he’d be with you.”
The guys stopped playing and joined her by the bar, behind which Cat stood.
“I haven’t seen him since he ran off. Why?” Gunnar questioned.
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” she admitted, her voice betraying her anxiety.
She sat down on one of the barstools, and the guys followed her, flanking her as their pool game was forgotten. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
“You think he caught up with Reaper?” Dennis asked.
“I hope not. Will you guys help me look for him?” she begged, her eyes pleading with Gunnar and Dennis.
They nodded, understanding the urgency in her voice. If Scorpion had caught up to Reaper, who knew what could happen? The thought of losing him to another senseless fight made her stomach churn.
“We’ll go to the ring,” Gunnar offered, his tone resolute.
“Thanks, guys,” she sighed, relief washing over her. “Call me if you find him?”
“Will do,” Dennis assured her.
They set off looking for Phillip, determination in their steps. Poison watched them go, her heart heavy with dread.
“Good luck!” Cat cried as they walked out of the door.
Poison stayed behind, her thoughts a chaotic whirl. She couldn’t lose Scorpion—not like this. Her mind kept drifting back to last night, the connection they shared, the promise of something deeper. But now, everything was overshadowed by the looming threat of Reaper.
She paced the bar, her phone clutched in her hand, waiting for any news. Every minute felt like an eternity, each second stretching out in agonizing uncertainty.
The memory of Scorpion’s touch, his voice, the way he made her feel alive—everything hung in the balance. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not when they had just begun to find each other.
“Please be safe,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar as she took a seat again.
Sitting idly, waiting for Gunnar and Dennis to call her with news, wasn’t something she could tolerate any longer. She sprang from her seat, waving goodbye to Cat. She had to find Scorpion herself. She grabbed her helmet and headed for her bike.
She drove around town, her mind racing as fast as her wheels. Every corner she turned held a flicker of hope and a shadow of fear. She had no clear destination, just the burning need to find him. Passing the paneled glass wall of a gym, something clicked. The gym where she and Scorpion had trained. That had to be it.
She made her way to the other side of town, heart pounding as she approached the familiar entrance. At the gate, a man in uniform greeted her and opened the gates without hesitation. She drove in just as a man who looked quite familiar got into the driver’s seat of a town car. A man that looked a lot like Damian, Yamatochi’s driver. But before she could get a good look, the car took off.
She parked her bike and rushed into the gym, her eyes scanning for any sign of Scorpion. The rhythmic clang of weights and the faint scent of sweat and effort guided her to the back of the gym.
There he was, covered in sweat and lifting weights, a fierce concentration etched on his face. The sight of him, safe and alive, brought a wave of relief that threatened to buckle her knees.
“Shouldn’t you take a break?” she asked, walking around his bench and shadowing him until he finished his set.
Scorpion placed the weights back on the rails, his gaze lifting to meet hers. She handed him a towel, her hands trembling slightly.
“Phillip,” she started, looking down at him with worry all over her face. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I really should be training,” he said gruffly. “I’m going to kill him!”
His eyes glared with the same vicious fire that she saw in the ring when they fought.
“Phillip,” she began again, miserably.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and she saw the fire going out in him. “And I’m sorry for running away, but I just snapped when that low-life kissed you.”
She bent down and took his hands in hers. “Just promise me one thing,” she begged, her voice soft yet insistent.
When he looked at her inquiringly, she continued, “Promise me that you won’t fight Reaper alone. Or rather, promise me that you won’t fight him without me.”
“I can’t!” Scorpion roared, springing to his feet. “I’m not letting you fight against him! I don’t want you to get hurt or, worse, killed! You know the rules. If interfere in any way, they’ll have your head for it.”
“We stand a better chance together!” she argued, her voice rising with desperation.
“It is against our laws,” he stated flatly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. She knew that that was the end of the discussion.
With a sigh, Scorpion gathered his things. “Let’s get out of here.”
He took her hand, the simple gesture filling her with a fragile sense of security.