‘Kick this guy’s ass and send him home,’ Reuben said.
I think I really need to have a talk with him about the extent of my capabilities.
“I don’t need to,” I practically wheeze. “My dead are always with me.”
Olsen clicks his teeth, “Tell you what? I hear there are two kids running around that you’re really fond of.”
I remain quiet. I expect anger. Fury. But even my thoughts are becoming quieter. Except for the pulse of my blood in my ears, there isn’t a sliver of the emotion I’ve learned over the past 1,355 days.
It’s as though I’ve reverted to the thing I was before becoming Christian.
“I see the girl around a lot,” he continues. “Helping with the chores, cleaning the house. If you leave before sunset, I promise her first time won’t be violent.”
Evie.
I see her face for a moment. Her shy smile and the small container with the pink bow.
“I can be a gentle guy.” The asshole’s still going. “Slow. Mindful. Just imagining how tight she’ll be when I break her in.” He grins but still I remain quiet, focusing on reeling in the pain.
“Even better, if you leave right now, I’ll let you use her after I’m done, when she’s pumped full. You look like the kind of man who would get off on sloppy seconds.”
He stands for a moment to watch me, waiting. But there isn’t a single thing I can offer him.
“Not even that can rile you up, huh?” He puts his hands back in his pockets. “You’re a tough man, driving a hard bargain.” He starts to walk around me slowly, like a vulture. “I’ll throw in the bitch that always comes here to visit you. The one with the skeleton tattoo.”
I close my eyes.
“I’m impressed you’re so active, letting Reuben fuck you then turning around to fuck that doll. You get the best of both worlds by swinging both ways.”
The pain has finally lessened into something bearable and I prop myself up on one knee.
“I don’t mind using her hole until it starts to bleed. If you kiss my shoe, I’ll let you watch.”
I open my eyes to meet his, and the indifference on my face creates a crease between his brows.
“Are you done?” At least I no longer sound like I’m on the brink of death.
“I’m running out of material honestly,” he tilts his head. “Your reactions are all boring.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” I rise to my feet, ignoring the way the world tilts. “Lead the way, Mr. Veteran. You want your match, right?”
He grins, “Perfect.”
Word about the match must have spread like wildfire, because Xavier and Tobias are already there. Xavier’s nervousness is practically dripping off him as he paces, and Tobias twirls his favourite dagger in his hand, absentmindedly. Xavier runs up to me the moment he spots me, ignoring Olsen completely.
“That bastard hit you?” He looks positively livid, “Before the match?”
Inside voices, please, the bastard’s right next to us.
Tobias also passes Olsen by completely and Olsen snorts before walking away, towards the ring.
Tobias grabs my shirt to raise it up and both he and Xavier go stiff at the giant bruise forming where Olsen hit me.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I lie.
“You don’t have to do this now,” Tobias’ expression is stormy. “It’ll set the match back, but it can still be held after you heal up.”
“Thanks.” I put my hand over his to put my shirt back down. “But I think I can handle him.”
