Survivor (First to Fight #2)(55)

I change tactics. “What the hell did I ever do to you? Why me?”

Damian scrubs a hand over his face, stops pacing, and then changes directions. “Fucking Jack. On his high f*cking horse. He thought he was hot shit. Him and his daddy. They didn’t give two shits about me.”

“Jack did, he was your friend.”

“He wasn’t shit,” he shouts, spit flying. “Perfect family, perfect life. Took away some of that perfect, didn’t I? Stole it right from under his nose.” He refocuses on me, his smile a chilling evil I’d only seen once before in my life. “Right from under his nose.”

“You are a sick son of a bitch,” I say.

His smile falls. “You better rethink the way you’re talking to me, bitch. I’m the one with the knife here, so I’m making the rules. If you don’t remember how this goes, I can give you a reminder.”

“Oh, trust me, I remember plenty. I remember what a pathetic limp-dick loser you were. Couldn’t get a woman unless you forced one. And even then you weren’t worth the time I wasted trying to forget you.”

Blood mottles his already bloated face and he strides across the ring to backhand me with the hand wielding the knife. My eyes cross and my ears ring, but the satisfaction of seeing him fumble knows no parallel.

“That all you got, *? Need to feel big and bad so you prey on women? Taking something doesn’t mean you earned it. Doesn’t make it yours. You didn’t get anything from me. The only person who mattered, who matters is Jack and no amount of your pinkie dick or cheap shots will ever change that.”

I spit out the blood pooling in my mouth on the floor by his dusty boots, letting the disgust show plainly on my face.

“You liked it,” he said, the horror turning his face white.

“I threw up for days trying to get the taste of you out of my mouth. I couldn’t take enough showers could make me feel clean. If I could bleach my brain to forget that night and everything about you, I would do it in a second.”

When he doesn’t have a word to say, I smirk in triumph.

He roars. “You’re a f*cking liar, I know you came.”

“A vibrator and a couple batteries can do the same thing, that doesn’t make them a good lay.”

“You f*cking bitch,” he says and raises the knife up.

I take a deep breath. At least, I took away the power he had over me. At least, I didn’t give him that.

And thank God Jack isn’t here.

Closing my eyes, I wait for the strike to come.

Then the doors open and the object of my thoughts strides through.





Present



NOTHING WILL EVER come close to the bone-deep fear that courses through me when I open the door and find Damian with a knife pointed at Sofie’s bared body.

No bomb or threat of war can compare, and I’ve seen my fair share of them both.

“You made it,” Damian says, his attention and the arc of the knife switching to me as I step into the gym.

That’s right. Keep it pointed at me, you mother f*cker.

“Don’t hurt her,” I say, holding my hands in the air and sliding along the outer wall to keep his focus on my ever-changing movement, instead of on my girl.

Damian cocks his head, considering, then replaces the gag on Sofie’s mouth. “So glad you could make it. I thought the text message was a little too obvious for you, but I was in a hurry. You should see this, after all. Besides, it felt like a reunion.” He motions with the gun and Sofie jerks against her restraints. “Keep your hands above your head and get up here in the ring. It’s a shame we never got to fight before now, but we both know who would have won, don’t we?”

I do as he says, keeping my eyes trained on the hand holding the knife. Sofie struggles in my periphery, her pleading voice hampered by the gag. I circle around the wall until I get to the far side where the practice rings are located. Ducking under the ropes, I inch around the ring, his beady eyes following me until he says, “Stop there.”

“Do whatever you want to me,” I tell him. “Just let Sofie go.”

“No,” he says, eyes wild. “I don’t think I will. She’s a part of this.”

“You don’t need her. Whatever you want to do, whatever you have planned, you can do it to me.”

“Sorry,” Damian says. “You’re not exactly my type, but there is a reason I brought you.” He nods to the corner of the ring, opposite Sofie. “Go stand over there.”

I move to the other side of the ring with jerky movements. “You’ve got me here, obviously this is about me. Untie her and we can do whatever you want.”

“She’s not yours,” he says. Spit sprays from his lips. “She’s mine.”

Sofie renews her struggles against her restraints. Tears spill down her cheeks and she forces her head back and forth trying to work the gag off her mouth. Damian presses a finger to her lips. “Quiet, sweetheart.” He looks at me and I want to pummel the smug look off of his f*cking face.

“What are you talking about?”

“She came for me…or didn’t she tell you? She liked what I did to her.”

My eyes flash to hers as recognition dawns. By now she’s sobbing outright against the gag, her limbs sawing back and forth against her restraints to find a point of weakness.