chapter 11

ABIGEAL

BARELY A month ago I was earnestly flipping through newspapers looking for a job that wouldn’t bore me out of my mind. That wouldn’t under stimulate me. Now here I was sitting on a guy’s back and pulling his leg backwards until he rapidly tapped the mat. I guess I got what I wanted.

I got up and went to stand by the edge of the mat beside Abel while the guy lay on the mat panting before he got up and limped away, his head hung in defeat. “Girl, is there anything you aren’t good at?” Abel whispered.

“Cooking.” I deadpanned.

“Now that cheers me up, because I make a mean pecan pie.”

“I do love pecan pie.”

“Wait till you taste mine.” Abel said. The next match was called and Christa and another woman stepped onto the mat.

“You know the rules. No weapons, no foul play. Good luck.” Warren drawled and the girls started to circle each other. Christa immediately went on attack, forcing the other woman to put her hands up. It didn’t look like she was slowing down anytime soon, leaving her opponent no space to attack.

That is, until the girl dropped suddenly and kicked out at Christa’s knees so she stumbled back. Quickly the girl went on offense and drove Christa back to the other side of the mat, but Christa blocked her attacks effortlessly.

The fight ended quickly when Christa grabbed her opponent’s dominant hand, twisted it behind her back and kicked the back of her knees until she fell to the ground. The girl tapped out quickly and Christa walked to the edge of the mat, flicking her purple streaked hair out of her eyes.

She had barely broken a sweat.

The matches went on until there were just four of us left: me, Abel, Christa and another guy named Matteo.

“That brings us to the end of stage four. You may now re-”

“I don’t think they are done yet” a voice said from above.

We all looked up to see Jordan Alonso in one of his impeccable suits standing in the gallery above. We locked eyes briefly before his gaze flicked to Warren. I suppressed a shiver.

“Pardon, Sir?”

“Miss Santi, Miss Starr, take the mat. After that, Mr Manuel and Mr Abel.” Jordan said, locking eyes with me again. Something in those dark depths made me think he was doing this deliberately.

I faced Christa on the mat. She smiled at me menacingly. “Christmas came early this year.”

I said nothing and got into position, circling when she did and trying to assess her body language. From her brief fight earlier I’d gotten a general idea of her fighting style, but I needed more.

Which is why I let her make her move first, driving me to the edge of the mat and trying to make me lose my balance. I stood my ground though and when I’d had enough I started to fight back.

We went down on the mat grappling together. It was becoming less of a match and more of a street fight, the way she seemed determined to murder me. She landed a glancing blow on my face and pain exploded in my cheek bone. I returned the favor, punching her square in the face so hard I heard the cartilage in her nose crunch.

She yelled in pain and we both got up and circled again. This time all hint of playfulness had disappeared from her eyes, replaced by hot fury. Good. That meant she won’t think as clearly.

As predicted, she charged at me like a bull in a rodeo and I dropped down, flooring her with one sweep of my feet. She struggled beneath me, then did the unthinkable and yanked at my hair.

“Fuck no.”

I pulled my hand back and slapped her hard enough that her head snapped to the side, but the throbbing pain in my scalp still remained. It was time to end this before it devolved into a petty catfight.

I grabbed her arm and twisted it. “Do you forfeit?”

“Fuck you.” She spat, gritting her teeth against the pain.

“Sorry, but you’re not my type.” I continued to twist her arm until I heard it snap. She let out a piercing scream but still didn’t tap out, so I moved on to digging my knee into her lower back.

“That’s enough.” Jordan’s voice rang in the air and I got off from her, the red slowly clearing from my vision. As the bloodlust faded, I noticed everyone staring at me with something akin to fear.

Feeling the sudden charge in the air, I looked up and found that somewhere during my fight, my target had shown up next to Jordan. But he wasn’t looking like he wanted to run from me. He smirked at me and gave me an undetectable nod.

Christa was helped up from the mat, and when she turned to face me I winced at the mess on her face. “This isn’t over bitch.” She spat blood at my feet just before she was led away.

“You, lady, are scary. I don’t know whether to run from you or hide behind you.” Abel laughed as he faced Matteo on a new mat-the other one had to be replaced- and started circling.

It seemed like Abel and Matteo were evenly matched as Jordan called it a tie. For the first time since I met him Abel looked slightly annoyed as we were escorted to the clinic

“You good?” I asked.

The question must’ve caught him off-guard, because he stared at me for a moment then shook his head before answering. “Evenly matched, my ass. I would’ve beat him if we’d been given more time.”

“Don’t be so sure, brother.” Matteo said from my other side, his accented voice also carrying hints of annoyance.

“I almost had you on that mat and you know it.” Abel countered.

“Ah, but have you considered that I was only letting you think you had me?”

Abel tried to sidestep me to get up in Matteo’s face. “Rematch, then. Right here, right now.”

This was probably a good time to step in. “Hey, hey. While I’m absolutely thrilled to be crushed by the might of your egos and drowned in testosterone, I also have a really bad headache and would like some peace and quiet so if you guys could punch each other’s lights out another time, that would be great.”

After a brief period of silence, they both relented and we resumed walking. “Drowning in testosterone? Really?” Abel asked.

“What? In another moment the both of you would have whipped out your dicks to measure. Fucking peacocks.” I muttered, rubbing my temple.

My comment drew laughter from everyone, which surprised me. I never made anyone laugh. Ever.

“So.” Abel leaned over to talk to one of our escorts. “What’s the next challenge going to be? More fighting? Do we have to pass through a ring of fire? Do a blood sacrifice? Dance naked in the moonlight?”

The escort’s lips twitched but she didn’t laugh. “As entertaining as that sounds, none of the above. The next stage is supervised by Mr. Alonso and Mr. Daniels, for whose sake this whole thing was organized.”

Great. Despite my plans to avoid him, I was going to be directly under Jordan Alonso’s thumb. And it seemed like he was out to get me in particular. But it didn’t matter. I had a lot riding on this, and I was determined to see it through to the end.