The whistle cuts the air and the fight begins.
Pike darts forward immediately and aims his thick fist for Freddy’s face. Freddy slides to the side to dodge, but Pike still strikes his ear, knocking him completely off balance. He tumbles to the floor and I look away before Pike’s foot stomps down on his chest.
“You’re not going to throw up, are you?” Amy asks me.
I shake my head, but I keep my eyes on the ground. “I don’t think so,” I lie.
She pats me on the back. “I remember feeling queasy at my first fights, too. It passed. Now, I just get so turned on, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You’re a very strange person…” I joke.
“Oh, please…” She licks her lips. “Don’t act like you’re immune to this.”
I flash back to the night in the barn and I remember how satisfying it felt to feel my fist connect with Tobias’ chest. My entire body quivered after that. His power and strength were almost too much for me. It overwhelmed all other senses, leaving me broken and confused, but intrigued to the core.
My eyes flick back to the ring just as Freddy performs a solid jump kick against Pike’s chest, sending him stumbling back against the ropes. He bounces off of them and uses the momentum to send a vicious uppercut into Freddy’s gut. I can hear the wind escaping his lungs from all the way over here. The screaming horde jumps up and down as Freddy falls to the floor and doesn’t get back up. Pike takes great delight in grabbing his hand off the mat and watching it drop back down without resistance.
Freddy is out cold.
Lillian steps into the ring and calls the match in Pike the Punisher’s favor. “That’s how we fight in St. Louis!” she cries, proud and happy.
I turn away again as a few people step up to drag Freddy’s limp body out of the ring.
“He’ll be fine,” Amy assures me with a friendly, soothing voice. Her eyes tell me another story. These fights are kept secret for a reason. I imagine a world of no holds barred violence results in many fighters that retire from the sport a little too early.
The four remaining fighters step into the ring and Lillian takes her time revealing who will go next, teasing the crowd with her perfect stage presence as she pokes them one-by-one.
“Next… from our districts down south…” She puckers her lips and stops in front of Tobias. He stares back at her with fixed, green eyes. “Tobias…” Her hands climbs his bare body and she raises her fingers to his face, letting them hover just above the skin of his cheek, “the Untouchable…”
The crowd screams for her, daring her to touch him, but she drops her hand without ever making contact.
Lillian laughs and moves on to the next fighter in line. “And Marcus the Menace!” she grins and reaches out to squeeze the man’s sizable biceps. She purrs to herself and throws up her hands. “Let’s start this before I explode!”
Tobias eyes Marcus as he drifts over to his corner. I wish I knew him well enough to know what he was thinking behind his dark and rough expressions. Knowing would probably make me feel a little less terrified right now.
Lillian blows the whistle again and my heart skips a beat.
I stare at Tobias, preparing for him to strike, but he doesn’t move from his corner. He lurks there in his fighting pose, calmly bouncing on his toes as his eyes watch Marcus shift towards him.
“What’s he doing?” I ask out loud.
“Classic Tobias…” Amy grins. “He never throws the first punch.”
I remember the bruises splattered across his abdomen and nausea washes over me again. Marcus is huge — much larger than Burt the Brute was. If Tobias leans into the punches like he did last time, he may not get back up again.
Marcus pulls back his fist and my eyes clench shut just before it reaches Tobias’ face.
The screaming crowd erupts in thunderous applause and I force my eyes open to see what’s happened. Tobias dodged the attack and somehow managed to bring Marcus to his knees. He grips Marcus’ arm and twists it back to keep Marcus in a painful hold. I take a quick step forward, entranced by the sudden turn of events.
“See?” Amy teases me. “I told you you’re not immune to this...”
I keep my focus on Tobias, completely taken in by him and the darkness in his eyes. They suddenly flick in my direction, drawn to me as much as mine are to his, and turn soft for the slightest of moments as he recognizes my face across the room.
Then, Marcus strikes.
He turns quickly, taking Tobias completely off guard and slamming him down against the mat. A few faces in the crowd spin around in my direction, each of them wondering what it was that broke Tobias the Untouchable’s attentions. I ignore them and watch as Tobias takes great effort in blocking his face from Marcus’ crushing blows. It doesn’t seem to bother Marcus much, as he quickly jumps to his feet and connects a few swift kicks with Tobias’ kidneys.
Tobias rolls away from him and bounces off the floor. This time, he keeps his eyes forward, locked on the target in front of him and raises his hands up to protect his face. Marcus rushes forward and lands three quick swings against Tobias’ red ribs. He lets it happen and draws Marcus closer to sweep his legs out from under him. Marcus lurches back, but doesn’t fall until Tobias doubles around and lands a perfect roundhouse kick across his chin.
Marcus’ head hits the floor and the crowd screams with delight.
My body wretches from its frozen state and I force my lungs to take in fresh air.
Lillian climbs into the ring and kneels down to check on Marcus. “My god!” she cries out with a smile. “Two in a row, completely knocked cold!”
The audience laughs and slowly begins to chant Tobias’ name. He turns around and finds my face again before jumping out of the ring and taking fast strides in my direction.
“Good job, Toby!” Amy says to him.
Tobias ignores her and walks straight at me with fierce eyes. His sweaty chest heaves up and down as he stares down at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He lingers above me with the same heat in his eyes I saw that night in the barn when he told me to leave. Every instinct of mine tells me to step away from him, but I can’t find the will to move. I stare back at him with wide eyes, teetering on the edge of fear and excitement.
Finally, he turns away and heads straight for the locker rooms at the far side of the gym without speaking.
“Wow…” Amy breathes.
“What?” I ask, my lips trembling.
“Just… wow,” she says again. She lays her hand on my shoulder and squeezes once as Lillian blows the whistle for the third and final fight to begin.
“Yeah…” I whisper, my cheeks on fire. “Wow.”
“Hey, Amy!”
A man charges out of the crowd. I recognize him from the last fight. Burt the Brute, the fighter Tobias took down in under thirty seconds. “Burt!” She smiles at him to welcome his embrace, but her smile quickly disappears as he digs his grip into her. “And you’re hurting me.”
“What the hell was that earlier with you and Pike?” he growls.
“That,” she answers, “was business.”
“Looked a little too pleasing to be business to me—”
“Burt…” she mutters with a hushed tone. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re nothing but a two-timing who—”
“Burt.” She interrupts him with a firm voice. “You really don’t want to do this here.” She looks over his shoulder and he turns around. I follow his gaze and notice the eyes of the crowd zeroing in on them. A few of them take warning steps towards Burt, each one of them curling their hands into fists.
Burt releases her arm and stands up straight. “I guess we’ll just settle this later tonight then,” he says, breathing into her face.
“That would be wise.”
He spins on his feet and walks back into the crowd to watch the fight. Amy nods at the crowd and brushes her hand through the air to signal that everything is fine. The onlooke
rs turn back around.
“Amy…” I say. “Are you okay?”
She gives me a confident nod. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
I take a step towards her. “Did he do that to your face?” I ask.
She looks at me with wide eyes. “I don’t think we know each other well enough to have that conversation, Claire,” she says.
I close my mouth and look back towards the fight just as one of the fighters crumbles to the floor. The remaining fighter throws up his thick hands in victory and Lillian cries out in applause.
“Danny the Devil from Springfield,” she addresses him. “You lucky bastard!”
The audience laughs with her and calls Danny’s name over and over again.
“Looks like the night is over, y’all!” Lillian says as she playfully wipes fake tears from her eyes. “But don’t you worry. Next week is our final elimination round! There’s just three fighters left! Will Pike remain our Alpha for another year? Or will someone new claim his title?”
The room trembles as their screams echo into the night.
Chapter 7
Promise Me Again
I walk up the long and dark driveway, flinching at every little sound nature makes to scare me. For some reason, wandering down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere terrifies me a lot more than the streets of Chicago in the middle of the night.
Maybe it has something to do with where I’m going and who I’ll face when I get there.
I reach the quiet farmhouse and hesitate outside on the porch. My blood still pounds in my ears, filling my head with a steady drumbeat. Every time I close my eyes, I see Tobias towering above me. I’ll admit, I’m scared to face him again. There was a subtle rage behind his eyes tonight, one that I can’t ignore. The thumping in my ears becomes louder until I realize that it’s not in my head at all.
I step over to the barn and slide the door open.
The thumping stops and Tobias immediately abandons the punching bag to turn on me. “What the hell were you thinking?” he seethes.
I slide the door closed behind me and fight my eyes from looking down at his bare torso. “I wanted to watch you fight again.”
“I told you not to.”
“No,” I say. “You told me not to steal Charlie’s truck again—”
“You know what I meant, Claire,” he says. “You’re gonna get us both caught if you keep sneaking out like this.”
“So you’re just worried about your little secret identity then?”
He pauses and turns away from me. “How did you get up there?” he asks.
“Amy gave me a ride.”
“When did you two become friends?”
I smirk. “When did you two become lovers?”
He furrows his brow. “What?”
I lean back against the door. “She said the two of you have spent time together.”
His lips twitch. “She’s exaggerating.”
“How so?” I ask.
He brings his hand to his face and he rubs a bit of sweat off his brow. “Amy is an hour of my life I’ll never get back,” he says with amusement.
“Sounds special.”
“It wasn’t.”
“What happened?” He stares back at me with tight lips. “Hey, I told you about Rick…”
Tobias chews on his lip for a moment. “It was right after my first fight. We got a few drinks, she gave me a hand-job, and then she passed out on her couch. I left right after.”
“You’re kidding,” I chuckle.
He shakes his head and grips his wrist to massage it in silence.
“So you two never…?” I let the question linger.
“No.”
“She makes it sound like you did.”
“Amy has a thing for fighters.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I scoff and cross my arms. “Looks like she has things going with quite a few of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pike was flirting with her earlier,” I recall, “and Burt didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“What exactly did you see, Claire?” Tobias asks, his voice steady as a rock.
I shift on my toes. “He grabbed her arm — I don’t know, it happened pretty quickly. I did ask her if he’s the one that bruised up her face, but she wouldn’t say. She said she could handle it.” His eyes linger on the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.”
I furrow my brow, wanting to question him more, but I decide against it. The fresh bruises along his abdomen draw my eyes south. “You okay?” I ask him. “That guy seemed really strong…”
“Yeah,” he says. I’m fine.”
“Got a little scary there for a second,” I say.
“I had it under control.”
“I don’t mean the fight.”
He looks at me and flexes his jaw. “I wasn’t expecting you to be there,” he mutters.
“You seemed…” I pause, “angry with me.”
“I was.”
“Like you were going to hit me—”
“I’d never hit you, Claire,” he says quickly.
“Are you still angry now?”
He takes a long, deep breath. “No,” he finally says.
I nod slowly. “Why not?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“No.”
He smiles and steps a little closer to me. “I have more important things to worry about than you.”
I blink. “Ouch?”
“It’s not meant to be an insult,” he says. “It’s just the truth.”
My body trembles against the wooden door. Feeling unwanted has become a familiar feeling to me these last few weeks. My mother didn’t want to put up with me anymore. My stepfather sure as hell wanted to see me gone and jumped at the first opportunity he had to get rid of me. Charlie’s pretty good at not showing it, but I get the feeling he’d rather not have me around either. And now, it’s Tobias’ turn to reject me. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised.
Rick really is the only one that wants me around at all.
“I should get inside,” I mutter. “Congratulations on your win.”
He reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Claire—”
I pause with my fingertips on the handle. “What?” I ask with my eyes down.
“Look at me.”
Hesitation takes hold of my chest. “I have to get some sleep—”
He reaches out and grabs my other wrist to draw me forward. “Claire, I would never hit you,” he says. I look up into his deep, green eyes. “I want you to know that.”
His voice sends shivers down my spine. “Okay…” I whisper. He slowly drops my wrist, but I let them linger between us.
“Goodnight,” he says.
I leave the barn and walk silently back to the house.
***
I raise the pitchfork above my head and set it back where it belongs on the wall. That’s Charlie’s number one rule, after all. Put everything back where you found it.
The barn is hot and muggy. The sun blazes in the summer sky, so warm I can barely stand it, but I don’t want to take a break. It’s just after noon and I’m not even close to being done with my chores. Let’s just say the memory of Tobias’ eyes drilling down into mine has left me feeling rather distracted the last few days.
I turn to leave, but I catch sight of the punching bag in the corner once again.
My feet carry me over to it. I reach out and push the leather shell with my fingers. It floats back and forth slightly but quickly comes to a stop. I ball my hands into fists, stopping for a moment to make sure my thumbs aren’t on the inside. I twist into a fighting stance, just like Tobias taught me, and throw a single, solid punch into the bag.
“Protect your face.”
I drop my hands and spin around to see Tobias standing in the barn doorway. “Hey—!” I gasp.
He nods and steps over to his
motorbike. “Been practicing?” he asks as he reaches into his pocket for his keys.
“Not really, no,” I answer. He grips the handlebars and starts to push the bike out of the barn. I follow slowly behind him. “Going out?” I ask. “It’s a little early in the day for you, isn’t it?”
“I have an errand to run,” he mutters as he throws a leg over the seat and sits down.
I smile and put a bad southern drawl on my voice. “Where you going? Down to the sock hop with Sally May?”
He chuckles. “Your knowledge of small town life is really outdated.”
“Enlighten me then.”
“Well, for starters,” he says, “we don’t do sock hops during the summer.”
“Uh-huh,” I nod.
“And Sally May is kind of a bitch.”
I laugh. “I stand corrected.” I bite my lip. “Where else do you run off to at night?”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Well, you’re gone like every night. Fights only happen once a week. You have a girlfriend or something?”
His lips curl and he leans in closer to speak at a whisper. “You know, I actually do work at the automobile factory across town.”
“No shit?”
“A few nights a week,” he nods. “It’s called having a cover.”
“You really do take this whole secret identity thing seriously, don’t you?” I joke.
He stares back at me and offers a quick smile. It’s strange to see him in broad daylight like this. He appears brighter and warmer, almost like an entirely different person. “Here,” he says as he reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a silver device with a pair of small ear-bud headphones wrapped around it.
“What’s this?” I ask as he hands it to me.
“My old music player,” he says. “Found it stashed away in a drawer. I thought you might get some use out of it.”
I inspect the device, noticing the small scratches on its face. “Old being the key word,” I joke. “What is this, a generation 2?”
“Hey, if you don’t want it—”
Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance Page 24
