Enoch unzips his jacket and hands it to Nash. He starts to stretch out and limber up, and the rest of the guys all back up to give them space. Knox pulls off his jacket and his t-shirt. He bends over to remove his shoes, and I take my time studying the muscles in his back. They flex as he straightens up and hands everything to Bastien.
Nerves flutter through me. I worry that letting them do this could just make it worse. Instead of working this anger out of their systems, it could just give them a taste for each other’s blood and make them even more hungry for it. Well, fuck it. It’s a risk I’m willing to take because I’m at a loss at this point for what else to do. Talking doesn’t seem to work. Rationalizing doesn’t seem to work. The competition and anger is too deeply rooted.
“No permanently disfiguring each other in any way. No biting, no junk punches, no eye gouges, no hair pulling. If your opponent taps out, you will back the fuck off. When the fighting is over, you will move on and stop living in the past. Understood?” I bark at them.
Knox and Enoch both nod as they stare angrily at one another.
“Begin,” I announce.
Knox and Enoch both just stand there for a minute, sizing each other up. Knox is half a head taller and bulkier than Enoch, but Enoch doesn’t look fazed by that at all. They both start simultaneously circling one another. They look like predators trying to convince the other one that they’re the prey. I can practically feel the hate and anger wafting off of them. It feels heavy and oppressive, and I just hope to fuck they can both purge it.
They charge each other at the same time, their movements a blur. It’s brutal and beautiful, the way they hit and dodge and look for an opening all while setting a punishing pace with their fists. Enoch gets a hold of Knox. He picks him up and body slams him to the ground. The other guys wince andooh, but I watch Knox’s calculating face as he yanks Enoch’s legs out from under him. They grapple, both pressing for the upper hand.
Enoch tries to push Knox off of him with his legs. It forces Knox back, but then he dives over Enoch’s outstretched legs and nails him in the face with a right hook. It’s such a graceful move I didn’t expect from my big beefy Knox, and I smile and file it away to try out in the future. The hit opens a cut on Enoch’s cheek, but the two continue to go at it like the blood doesn’t matter.
Enoch lands a few knees amidst the flurry of punches, and I’m surprised that all of the guys on the sidelines aren’t shouting their support or guidance. Everyone is just watching tensely. Taking this seriously. Waiting for the outcome. Knox bellows out in pain and grabs his side. The sound of him hurting sparks something in me that I have to hold back. It makes it way fucking harder for me to see the violence in a disconnected, analytical way. I find myself glaring at Enoch for a second before I shake it off and remind myself why we’re here. Why things have come to this.
Enoch tries for another shot at Knox’s ribs, but Knox spins and nails him with an elbow to the head. Enoch stumbles, the hit making him unsteady on his feet. Knox sees the opening and pounces. He charges Enoch, tackling him to the ground, both of them landing hits to each other’s faces. A cut opens up above Knox’s eye, but he has the upper hand and clearly won’t be distracted by the blood now dripping into his socket. I step in when Enoch stops throwing hits and instead attempts to shield his head from Knox’s onslaught.
The fight is over. Knox won.
I tap on Knox, but he doesn’t stop his attack. The guys rush over and help to pull him off of Enoch. But what I see in Knox’s face drops a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I check on Enoch, hoping that maybe Knox just needs a minute to snap out of battle mode. To let the hate and rage go.
Enoch sits up and swears. He’s pissed off, but he stands up, brushes himself off and looks at me. His gaze is filled with frustration, but there’s resignation and acceptance there too. I nod at him, and he wipes blood from his face and turns around and heads in the direction of the tents. Relief bubbles up inside of me as I watch him go.
This bullshit can finally be over now.
That thought turns to stone and sinks into oblivion inside of me as I turn back to Knox. He’s watching Enoch walk away like he’s still hunting him. This fight changed things for Enoch; it clearly didnotchange things for Knox. Anger and frustration flare inside of me. I approach my Chosen and watch them congratulate Knox and pump him up over what just went down.
“Anyone else want to fight?” I ask tersely.
Kallan, Becket, and Nash are still standing off to the side, and I look from them to my Chosen. They all shake their heads.
“Sure?” I press. “Because this will be your last chance to air any grievances with each other using your fists,” I inform them all again.
No one steps forward.
“Good,” I declare. “My turn then.”
5
“What?” Bastien and some of the others ask as I strip out of my coat and shirt revealing the sports bra I’m wearing underneath.
“What are you doing?” Becket asks me as I kick off my shoes and push my jeans down my hips. I flex my toes against the frosty grass and start hopping in place to get my blood flowing and my body warmed up.
My movement pulls Knox’s focus back to me, and he gives me a confused look. “What do you meanyourturn?” Bastien demands again, but my gaze is locked on Knox.
“What? You think you guys are the only ones with issues? The only ones so pissed off that you need to fight it out?” I ask.
I square off toward Knox, welcoming all the rage and fight I still see in his face.
“Vinna, don’t do this,” Sabin starts, and my glare snaps to him.
“This is between me and Knox. Stay the fuck out of it.”
Sabin jerks back like I’ve just slapped him across the face, but it’s not my words that hit him so hard, it’s the pain I know he can see in my eyes. His forest green gaze bounces back and forth between my seafoam green stare. Then he takes a conciliatory step back. Sabin backing off seems to confuse the others. I wait to see who else’s objections will need to be dealt with, but everyone stays quiet, unease floating in the air.
“I’m not going to fight you, Killer. You already know how I feel about that.” I roll my eyes at Knox’s declaration and step into a fighting stance.
