A pained oof leaves him, but he soon recovers, and he kicks me once again, this time, in the stomach. I’m propelled backward, only to be pushed back into the “ring” by eager bystanders who won’t be satisfied until one of us is dead.
Jacko punches me in the temple, the nose, and then the chin. He tries to connect with my ribs, but I jump back with a smirk. Blood splashes onto the concrete from my nose, but the crowd can’t see me bleed, thanks to the bandana over my face.
He spits, a splatter of red staining the floor. He’s hurt. The sight is truly beautiful to a fiend like me. I make quick eye contact with Kong who is watching on behind the crowd. He is a tall motherfucker, so he stands out, but when I see his victorious smirk, thinking he’s won because of me…I am possessed with a fury that wants to kill anyone who stands in my way.
Jacko comes at me with a roar, but I use my anger to deliver a combination of punches that sends Jacko staggering backward. I charge forward, hitting any part of his body I can, because with each strike, it takes me closer and closer to seeing Kong dead.
I punch Jacko in the face, knocking out two teeth, and when he sags forward, I deliver an uppercut that sends him soaring through the air. He lands on his back with a thud, and before he can get back up, I dive on top of him, pinning him to the floor as I punch him in the face over and over again.
His head lolls, but I don’t stop. The soft flesh feels like heaven beneath my fists. He stops struggling, hinting he’s out cold, but I still don’t stop. All I can think about is Damian. How he was humiliated, beaten, and bruised for no reason. He died because four motherfuckers decided to play God.
I don’t care who I have to use and abuse to get what I want, and when I lock eyes with Kong, all I want is to see him pay.
With one final blow, I connect with Jacko’s face before coming to a breathless, slow stand. My body is trembling as adrenaline courses through me. Jacko is not getting up anytime soon, which sends the crowd wild. Someone pats me on the back, but I nudge them away, ready to break their fucking hand.
I look down at my clenched, unsteady fists, and the once white tape is now stained a bright red. This is all I know to survive—blood and pain.
“Fuck!” Kong screams to be heard over the manic crowd as he rushes toward me. “You’re one scary ass motherfucker.”
He doesn’t know the half of it.
“Here.” He digs into his pocket and discreetly shoves a wad of cash into my palm. “There’s more where that came from. I’ll call you. The bookies are going to love you.”
I don’t bother sticking around because this first step is enough for now. Kong merely sees me as dollar signs. He bets on the right horse, and I make him rich. Little does he know he’s betting on the wrong horse.
Pocketing the cash, I push my way through the crowd, on the lookout for Jaws, but then a young woman in fancy jewels steps in my path, blocking me. Her red lips tip into a slanted grin, and she whispers into my ear, “Let’s fuck.”
Her candidness catches me by surprise, and I can’t deny the win has left me pumped and ready to blow off some steam. She looks like a rich daddy’s girl who lost her way home, so I toy with the idea. There are no empty promises. We both know what this is.
But I’m not her puppet or a blow-up toy for her to get her rocks off with. And besides, she does nothing to appease this throbbing in my cock because it craves someone else.
Just as I’m about to decline, a flash of pink catches my eye.
Focusing ahead, I see the back of a woman as she shoves her way through the crowd. She has on a cotton candy-colored wig cut in a bob. I don’t know why, but her urgency has alarm bells ringing, and without thought, I chase after her—the predator in me relishes the chase.
When the masses see me coming, they part quickly. They’ve seen me fight. They don’t fancy getting caught in the crossfire. For her, however, no one moves, which allows me to catch up to her quickly. She is almost at the staircase, causing me to hasten my steps. She can’t get away.
But when some asshole tries to congratulate me, blocking my path, he allows the scared little lamb to slip away. I push him aside, continuing the chase, before this woman slips through my fingers. She takes two steps at a time, and all I can see is that she’s wearing sunglasses too big for her face.
She’s clearly trying to disguise her appearance, and the fact she’s running from me has me wondering why. The mystery has the adrenaline surging through me, and it doesn’t take long until I’m following closely behind her.
She fumbles with the handle but, eventually, bursts through the door, almost knocking into the two dickheads manning the entrance to the floor. They try to grab her but fumble because she’s lithe and graceful like a…dancer.
Holy mother of fuck.
I’m hot on her heels, every part of me throbbing in need. She takes a left, which is the wrong fucking way. The hunter in me savors her mishap, and when she sees the corridor is a dead end, she yanks open the closest door and dives for the safety of a room.
She frantically tries to close the door, but I’m too fucking fast and grip the edge, pushing it open. She stumbles back with the force, almost falling onto her ass. I slam the door shut, trapping us both. When she realizes she’s ambushed, she spins, turning her back to me.
Her small shoulders rise and fall quickly as she gulps in lungsful of air. We’re both in disguise, both hiding who we really are. I need to see her to ensure she’s real. With three quickened strides, I’m across the room, gripping her upper arm.
She violently shakes me off, refusing to turn around.
“Why are you here?” I snarl, but my question remains unanswered. Her silence enrages me all the more. “Answer me!”
“Fuck you!” she replies fiercely.
She doesn’t want to play. Well, too bad, because I do—if only she knew just how badly I want to play with her.
She refuses to face me, so with no choice, I tug off her wig. When a cascade of soft brown hair tumbles down her back and the smell of cherry blossoms assaults me, I curse the day our paths crossed.
Her hands frantically attempt to cover her hair, but it’s too late. I know who she is, so now the question is, what will I do?
“Did you follow me?” I ask to her back, which pisses me off as she still refuses to face me. “This will not end well for you if you keep ignoring me. Answer my question.”
Silence.
I am splattered in blood, my face shielded by a menacing skeleton bandana, and she is still not afraid of me. Her courage is so fucking potent, I can’t breathe.
“Turn around,” I demand, and the tremble to her shoulders gives me a shot of the most intoxicating drug. “What do you want from me?”
Even though she won’t answer, it doesn’t deter me from asking her questions.
“Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? Make me understand what you want because I can only offer you pain!” I exclaim, my bloody fists a confirmation of this.
This silent treatment is feeding my demons; they demand I make her pay.
“Fine, have it your way then. Maybe I’ll go find someone who does want to talk to me.”
It’s a trigger for her and works like a fucking charm.
She swivels around so forcefully, a breath catches in my throat. I watch as she rips off her sunglasses, exposing those savage green eyes. She gives me one fucking second to process what I see before she storms over to me and rips off my face shield.